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#Max should have turned on Adam months ago then we could have moved onto something new but nooooooooooooooooooo
whysamwhy123 · 7 months
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Any unpopular opinions?
(Sleepover Sunday, I guess, because I'm only getting to this now, whoops!) ALL I HAVE ARE UNPOPULAR OPINIONS, LOL. Seriously, I'm lucky I only have, like, seven followers because otherwise I'd be chased off this website with torches and pitchforks. I'll try to give a mildly spicy one and not to be too much of a bitch...we'll see...
Toni Storm's current character/gimmick is A THOUSAND times more creative and original than anything any man on that roster has done in YEARS. And the fact that she's not on this PPV card is a fucking travesty. But I'm not surprised because TK hates women, and wrestling fans simply do not show up for women's wrestling the same way they do for boring white guys doing the most generic, tired, old Heel 101 bullshit 🙂🙂🙂
Ah, fuck it, one more because I bitch about this every week anyways - that Nigel wanker on Collision is one of the worst commentators I've ever heard. He's so annoying! He spends more time putting himself over than the talent in the ring (literally the opposite of a commentator's job) and he clearly has no respect for the women because as soon as a women's match starts, he immediately starts talking about unrelated male wrestlers. Or just himself! And that's when he's not making pervy comments about them - dude makes JR sound like a feminist icon by comparison. I am uncooly judging everyone on here who thirsts over him. Come on, people, standards! Y'all gonna start thirsting over the Qanon moron next?
#Thanks for sending this in - sorry for going off and being a huge bitch!#*swirls my brandy glass from up here on my high horse* Why I could NEVER thirst over any random shitty white man in his forties! Poohoohoo!#*grumbles under my breath*#No I merely thirst over 20-something fuckboys who look like they have to call their moms on the phone every night without fail#So I really shouldn't judge but I am anyway *shrugs*#*looks both ways* OK is everyone gone? No one still paying attention?#Then a BONUS SUPER SPICY SUPER UNPOPULAR OPINION APPEARS! Read at your own risk...#Better Than You Bay Bay is some of the lamest shit I've ever seen#I already found both of those characters relentlessly uninteresting and/or stale but now they're so watered down it's UNBEARABLE#It drives me crazy how much TV time is dominated by this one thing#AND IT SIMPLY WILL NOT END!!#Max should have turned on Adam months ago then we could have moved onto something new but nooooooooooooooooooo#This thing has to DRAG ON FOREVER while the women can't get more than 30 seconds to cut a promo#Also it sucks how they took Maria out of the Kingdom just for this storyline#Because TK didn't want a GIIIIIIIRL getting her gross COOTIES all over his precious bro-tastic manfeels story#And everyone's eating this shit up with a spoon#Because nothing drives fandom crazier than two mediocre white dudes queerbaiting 🙂🙂🙂#....but like I respect other people's opinions if they enjoy it power to them! Good for y'all- at least someone's eating well#But I will never understand and I'll ALWAYS wish that a women's storyline could get half as much love and attention#....please don't hate me for this!#Is this my personal Gripebomb? LOL#*CM Punk voice* Contrary to popular belief I'm a very nice guy...
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tomiokai · 4 years
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More Than Friends || Spencer Reid
Masterlist
{not my gif}
A/N: Half wrote this one and typed the rest, so enjoy my pain and tears, cause my hand cramped after this lmao. THIS FIC IS NOT COMPLETE IT IS A DEAD FIC SO JUST WARNING YOU BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO READ. At the ending I will explain what was supposed to happen. 
(Edit Disclaimer) I’m so sorry I thought I put this here but, yes I know this is a Girl In Red song, but I really liked this song and I wanted to do a take on this song because I love the lyrics and the meaning of it. Also I am bi so I know what I’m doing lmao. ;)
Summary: This is a songfic to the song ‘I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend’ pretty self-explanatory. Listen to the song, the fic will make a lot more sense, and it’s a great song. The only thing is, replace ‘Hannah’ in the song to ‘Spencer’. (Unedited)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader
Category: Angst. Songfic. 
Warnings: None:
Word Count: 1.9k
-
“I don’t want to be your friend, I wanna kiss your lip. I want to kiss you until I lose my breath.”
-
As the elevator closed with Maxine and Spencer in it I felt my heart drop. 
I knew from the very start Spencer and Maxine were dating but seeing them together in an elevator sharing their first kiss just hits differently.
Heavy tears streamed down my face as I stood there, body frozen. No matter what I did not a single muscle in my body moved, the only movement was the tears from my eyes sliding down my cheeks and onto the maroon dress shirt I wore staining the soft fabric. 
Ever since the first day I joined the BAU I had fallen for Spencer, 13 years ago. I was a little late to the team but that didn’t change a thing about how the team treated me. For years I have wanted to tell Spencer that I loved him, but every time the time was not right. Then Maeve happened and my hopes of telling Spencer I loved him passed away with Maeve. He was never going to love me the way he loved her. After that, I never had the courage to tell him how I really felt. Yet again I was too late, he has Maxine now, and he genuinely seemed happier with her than usual. My mind was never going to let me live down the fact that maybe that Spencer and I could’ve been if I had just talked to him before he met Maxine. What could have been. 
“Hey Y/n you okay?” Instantly snapping out of my daze, my hand shot up to my face and wiped the tears away. Putting on the best possible smile I could manage I turned around to meet face to face with Luke. 
“Luke! Hey! Yeah, I’m good,” I laughed, brushing it off. 
“Y/n even if I wasn’t a profiler I could tell you’re upset and you’ve been crying, hiding it with laughter isn’t helping,” Luke stated walking up to stand beside me.
“It’s nothing really,” I reassured. 
“I know you hate talking about your emotions Y/n but if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m your guy,” Luke said patting my shoulder. 
“Don’t worry about me Luke, if I ever needed anything you’re my speed dial,” I laughed for real this time. 
 “Alright, well I’m heading home. Don’t stay too long,” Luke says before disappearing into the elevator. 
For a moment I almost wanted to chase after Luke and tell him everything but he wouldn’t have understood how I felt. 
Quickly making my way into the bullpen, I went straight to my desk. Everyone had cleared out by then leaving an empty space for me. I had a phone call to make and I had to do it quickly. 
-
“Are you sure you would like to do this?” Security asked.
“Yes. After I’m in I would like you to leave the perimeter, you can stand guard, but you can’t listen in.” I spoke clearly with authority in my voice. 
“Yes ma’am,” Security said, leaving the room. I waited for a few minutes to make sure security was out and away for good. 
Making sure no one was behind me I opened the door to the room and slipped in. sitting down across from the women I needed to talk to I sighed and crossed my arms. 
“Tell me what it’s like,” I breathed. 
“What’s what like?” The women asked. 
“Don’t play games,” I snapped. 
“I’m not playing any games Agent Y/l/n,” The woman lied. 
“I may be no Spencer Reid but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’re trying to manipulate the situation to your fitting, Catherine Adam,” I stated, hissing the last part. 
“The world needs more women like us,” Cat laughs. 
Choosing to ignore the obvious insult I rolled my eyes at her.
“From the moment I walked in here you already knew what I wanted,” I said, slamming my hands onto the steel table that separated us. 
“You’re right Y/n. I do know what you want,” Cat says eyes darkening. “Let’s play a game!” She piped up, her whole demeanour changing real fast. 
“No games!” I immediately said. “I’m not Spencer, Cat. I’m not so easy to manipulate and plus you don’t have any hostages that will make me play.”
“Oh that’s too bad, the game was going to be fun,” Cat sighed sarcastically. 
“Any game from you is NOT fun,” I responded, emphasizing the ‘not’. 
“Fine, you got me,” Cat said, playing with her hair.
“Now I’m going to ask you again. What was it like?” I deadpanned. 
“What a pity, you’re just like me Y/n. We both want Spencer’s love,” Cat stalled. \
“I am not like you!” I hissed leaning forward. 
Cat followed in suit and also hissed, “We are exactly the same.” 
Leaning back in my seat, giving up on Cat, I proposed something different. “You’re right Cat, we are the same,” I said glancing at Cat who wore a smug grin. “And that’s why I'm willing to sign papers to move your death sentence to a life sentence and if they don’t approve of that I’ll push your death day back as far as I can.”
“How do I know you’re not lying to me,” Cat asked. 
“You can read men Cat and I bet you can read women too, so you tell me,” I shot back.
Cat studied me, my face, my breathing, and my body language. “You’re not lying,” Cat breathed in disbelief. 
“So tell me and I’ll sign,” I offered one last time. I was desperate to feel what it was like to be something to Spencer. 
Cat stares at me, disbelief written all over her face. A sly smile crawled onto her lips. “What do you want to know about Y/n, how he talks to me? How he touches me?” She asked, biting her lips. 
Anyone could tell I visibly stiffened uncomfortably. 
“Or how he kisses me feverishly or are you into some rough play, do you want me to tell you about how he throws me against walls, and chokes me roughly while whispering death threats to me?” Cat whispered, poison lacing her words. 
She was straight up playing me now. 
Slamming my hand onto the table yet again I yelled, “You know what it feels like to be rejected by Spencer Reid, Catherine. You know how I feel!”
“I know how that feels, but you don’t Y/n,” Cat bitterly says leaning back into her chair. 
“I might as well know,” I laughed, tears spilling out my eyes, mixed emotions filling my body. 
Loud laughter filled the closed air. Looking over at Cat I groaned in frustration for letting my emotions show and letting my vulnerability get the better of me. 
“Tsk, Tsk Y/n, you of all people should know men are shit,” Cat says, suddenly dead serious. 
“What are you talking about?” I asked calmly, but really I was panicking on the inside.
“Now don’t play dumb with me Y/n. I know all about you. We are EXACTLY the same.” She growls. 
Standing up abruptly I pointed a finger at the Cat and hissed, “Deals off Cat,”. My face felt steaming hot, God there was probably steam coming out of both my ears. 
Cat sighed a very heavy sigh and closed her eyes. 
“By the way Catherine, we are not the same and we never will be,” I say before slamming the door closed. 
First thought that came to mind, ‘well that went as expected.’
-
6 Months Later:
“Can you believe someone actually signed the papers for Cat Adams life sentence?” Emily asked, throwing down files on Cat Adams.
Spencer immediately perked up, “Wait who signed it?” He asked, but more like shouted. 
“We don’t know It’s classified information way beyond Federal level,” Emily answered. 
“If Penelope were here she would have already had the files pulled out,” Matt stated. 
Guilt dissolved me completely by then. Knowing fully well I was the one who signed them even after I broke off the deal. Something had ignited in me that day, something that just made me sign them. I had absolutely no reason to but I did, I was surprised they even let them pass through. 
“Guys I have an announcement to make,” Spencer said standing up and walking over to the font of the room. Everyone’s chair all spun to face the front simultaneously to listen to Spencer. 
“I’m not going to stall so… Max and I are engaged, and everyone here is invited to the wedding!” Spencer said with a cheer. 
My attention flew to Spencer. Never have I ever thought Spencer would take things so quickly with Maxine.
Everyone instantly stood up from where they sat and ran up to Spencer and engulfed Spencer in a hug and congratulated him while I sat in my seat in complete disbelief. 
People swarmed around Spencer, completely blocking my view from him. My vision blurred as I stared at the group huddle. On instinct, I fled my seat and out of the room never looking back, not caring if anyone saw me. 
Pulling out my phone I texted Emily and told her I felt sick and needed a day off, as I stormed off towards the garage to leave this place. I didn’t know exactly where I was going but I just drove. In the end, I ended up at home. I spent the rest of my day in bed wondering about Spencer and answering the occasional texts from the team asking me if I was alright. I wasn’t but they didn’t need to know that. 
For the few weeks I had avoided Spencer, every time he would try to talk to me, the air would get tense and I would always come up with an excuse to get away before the conversation went too deep. Luke kept an eye on me the whole time, it was as if he knew what was up, but he didn’t say anything. 
A/N: THIS IS WHERE I STOPPED WRITING OOPSIES. So I’ll just tell you what was supposed to happen. Y/n was supposed to confront Spencer at his engagement and tell him she loved him, and the verses “I don’t want to be your friend, I wanna kiss your lip. I want to kiss you until I lose my breath.” was supposed to happen, and basically Spencer has to reject her and on the wedding day Reader gets a phone call from Cat, offering her a deal but she rejects it and Reader moves away to the UK and yeah know BLAH BLAH BLAH and years later she comes back and discovers Spencer was murdered and she has to solve the case and in the end Cat did it. Yeah so that’s what happened could’ve been a sick story but I lost interest and couldn’t write it at all so sorry about that. Don't be too mad at me. 
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letterboxd · 4 years
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Ghibli Goes Digital.
We celebrate the explosion in Studio Ghibli activity on Letterboxd with Michael Leader and Jake Cunningham from the Ghibliotheque podcast.
LISTEN NOW: David Jenkins (Little White Lies), Tasha Robinson (Polygon) and Adam Kempenaar (Filmspotting) nominate their most magical Studio Ghibli moments in this new episode of The Letterboxd Show.
For all the ways that the coronavirus pandemic has dramatically altered the film industry, one coincidence that’s worked out extremely well for Studio Ghibli fans old and new is the roll-out of 21 of the famed studio’s films on streaming services.
It started in February for Netflix subscribers outside Japan and North America. Then in late May, HBO Max launched in the US with the Ghibli films as part of its offering. Finally, Canada got its turn with twenty titles available on Netflix right now, and The Wind Rises coming on August 1. For film lovers sheltering in place, the timing is as soothing as a nap on a Totoro’s belly; as wondrous as a Takahata sunset.
株式会社スタジオジブリ (Studio Ghibli) was founded in 1985 by directors Isao Takahata and Hayao Miyazaki, and producer Toshio Suzuki, upon the success of Miyazaki-san’s 1984 feature, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind. Huge acclaim, an Academy Award, and growing fandom followed, but the studio has long shied away from making its catalog available for digital consumption, preferring the films to occupy a larger canvas.
And then, all of a sudden, Suzuki-san announced the digital streaming plan—starting with the whole catalog being made available to own (via download) last December. “We’ve listened to our fans,” Suzuki-san said at the time. “In this day and age, there are various great ways a film can reach audiences.” This turn of events has been a very big deal—both for long-time fans and Ghibli newbies—and we’ve run the numbers to prove it:
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The above chart shows the daily number of entries logged on Letterboxd for each of the Ghibli films, and clearly depicts the February, March, April and late May spikes as groups of titles were released to the two aforementioned streaming platforms (and mini spikes coinciding with weekend watches).
The Ghibli films included in the streaming deals stretch over four decades of the studio’s output, and include big-hitters like the Oscar-winning Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke, Howl’s Moving Castle and the whole-family favorite My Neighbor Totoro. All of those films appear in the Official Letterboxd Top 250; Totoro and Kiki’s Delivery Service also made it onto a list of Letterboxd members’ top twenty favorite comfort films in a recent survey.
To get a sense of what this all means, we went to Letterboxd members Jake Cunningham and Michael Leader, hosts of Ghibliotheque, a podcast dedicated to the studio’s filmography, about the Netflix deal (“none of us could quite believe it when it happened”) and the clues Ghibli films offer us for how to have adventures inside our own homes.
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Earlier in the pandemic, when we were all figuring out how to stay home, you hosted a joyous My Neighbor Totoro watch-along. What is it about the fuzzy, mythical creatures that feels so helpful right now? Michael Leader: In some ways, the world’s mum is in hospital right now. We’re all working from home. There’s the bit halfway through the film where the dad is trying to get on with his work in the study, and [his daughter] Mei is coming up and putting little flowers on his desk. That’s what everyone is doing right now, is trying to get on with their work whilst their kids are milling about, full of imagination and adventures.
With Totoro, I go back to a guest we had on the show, Helen McCarthy, who wrote the book about Miyazaki. And she described Totoro as something like “kindness and acceptance made furry”, and that’s really what it is. The idea of this creature being there for you, coming out of the surroundings that you live in, allowing you to not only come into a new space that you’re maybe scared of going into, but also dealing with tricky situations that you’re in.
You’re both deeply embedded in the London film scene, but the dynamic of your Ghibliotheque podcast is that Michael is the long-time Ghibliophile, while Jake is the novice. How did that come about? Jake Cunningham: Michael and I actually work together, and it came up that I hadn’t seen any of the films and then it happened to come up that Michael was one of the UK experts of these films and was having a go at me for never having watched any. This was the perfect opportunity to work on something with each other, and my ignorance has finally paid off, because all I need to do is watch the film and then I get this amazing history lesson.
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Jake Cunningham with his ‘Only Yesterday’ poster, and with Michael Leader at the Ghibli Museum.
ML: It was really fun for me, because by that point—this is nearly two years ago now—I’d been writing about Ghibli on and off for almost a decade. There aren’t really many outlets to write about anime, Ghibli and animation in particular, in the monthly film magazines. Jake is the novice we can take through the library and invite people to join us on that journey. We have listeners who are so engaged, sending us comments every week. They had no idea how deep the rabbit hole goes.
That’s something that was personally for me quite important about the show. We want to show that this is one of the few studios that has ten five-star films. They had this amazing streak from the late 80s through the 2000s, just innovating on every film at the highest level, with multiple voices working in their own different worlds. We’ve really managed to show this whole world and invite people into it.
What did you make of the Netlix flex, and the subsequent explosion in Letterboxd activity around Ghibli films? JC: The graph is amazing! I was expecting a boost but not so big. They must be very happy with how well the deal has done for them. I think it’s a good place for Ghibli for sure. I want so many other people to be in the position that I was in two years ago. It is a whole world of pleasure to delve into for audiences.
I did think it was so funny that they spent fifteen years going “We’re never going to be streaming, this is never going to happen, stop asking us”, and then out of nowhere the announcement that they’re going to be online in two weeks! I think none of us could quite believe it when it happened, but what it’s meant is people are going back to the start of the podcast and listening along, because they can finally watch the films that they hadn’t seen before.
And it’s so exciting that people might watch Totoro, or Spirited Away, or Howl’s Moving Castle, these bigger tentpole releases, and that’s going to change their algorithm and they’re going to get presented with Isao Takahata’s My Neighbors the Yamadas or Tomomi Mochizuki’s Ocean Waves. The under-appreciated Ghiblis are suddenly going to get dragged out again.
ML: I’m really excited about it. It’s an interesting thing: it shines a light on what I think is more of a fandom problem, where something becomes rarified or scarce or special to a certain subculture, and that becomes part of its appeal. Sort of ‘Oh, Miyazaki doesn’t believe in streaming, he will never sell out’, and going on about how Netflix somehow cheapens it—but really they are completely accessible films that should be available in a mass market.
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Also, and this is something we wanted to tease out in the podcast, they are business savvy. They’re not crazy geniuses who live in wooden shacks in the middle of nowhere. They’re a real company that needs to keep the lights on. There are so many ways to speculate on what this deal means. I think on the one hand they were happy because in the Japanese market they sell enough merchandise, they have a real home entertainment churn going, that they never really needed to do an international release.
There’s a really good book just out by Steve Alpert, who was their first international division lead. He was hired in the 90s to sort out their penetration into western Europe and America. Before the 90s, there were a couple of home entertainment releases and small theatrical runs, but they suddenly saw the business benefits in going global. In some ways I’m very happy for it because it’s a business deal that makes these films more available. They’ll always be special because they’re great films.
JC: The films streaming is extremely exciting, but something that’s gone under the radar a bit is that all of the music is now on Spotify. There are some of Ghibli’s shorts that you can only watch in the museum in Japan, but the scores for those films are now on Spotify, and everything is there. After having the melodies of some of these stuck in my head for months and months, you can finally actually go and deal with the earworm once and for all.
Is it possible for you to sum up for us the thematic essence of Ghibli films, and make a case for why Letterboxd members should introduce their children to the catalog? For me, in the context of the pandemic, it’s the corn on the window-sill in My Neighbor Totoro: the idea of presence despite distance; connection through gesture; the significance of nature. JC: It’s a lot to do with leaving things in an ambiguous space. Having kids watch things where there’s not a binary answer to everything. The studio moved away from the earlier films where a villain is a villain. In Spirited Away and Howl’s Moving Castle, it’s less clear what a ‘bad person’ is and what a ‘good person’ is. I think it’s important that kids are gonna see that. Even with something like Kiki’s Delivery Service, on the surface it’s one of their simpler films. Kiki goes on an amazing journey and she meets amazing people, and at the end, she learns about who she is and what she can do. I think in a Western kids’ film that would be the end note. But there’s that note at the end of the film where she says that she still feels sad, and she still feels homesick, but that’s okay and that’s part of being alive.
ML: I think Miyazaki’s real magic touch across his films is that he’s able to really look at the world through children’s eyes. I’m not the first person to say that. It tends to be one of the first things that people say about him. The magical things about My Neighbor Totoro are when they’re just walking through the house, cleaning the house, cooking together. And for Kiki, when she gets her own [apartment], sweeps up and cooks herself pancakes. It is just as much about the magic of the everyday, about the world that you can see around you, within the four walls of the home.
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JC: Now that you say that, I’m thinking about Ponyo, a key scene where the storm is hitting, and Sosuke and Ponyo and Sosuke’s mum just hunker down in their house and they have a generator going and they make instant ramen noodles, and the mum slips in little bits of ham. They also have some honey tea. Even though he’s a fantasy filmmaker, and he makes grand statements about geopolitical situations, these are the sequences now which will play most poignantly to people.
ML: Ghibli offers escapism, right now.
We got a glimpse of the next Ghibli film, Gorō Miyazaki’s fully-CG Aya and the Witch (see picture below), via the online version of the recent Annecy International Animated Film Festival. What are your thoughts? JC: Regarding the new images, I’m not as petrified as some fans have been. On the podcast I’ve mounted my defence for Gorō’s Tales From Earthsea, which is very much the black sheep of the family, and I don’t think I’d be doing him justice after that if I didn’t stand in his corner on this one as well. Until we see the style in motion, I think it’s unfair to judge, but it certainly is… different.
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Jake, are you now a true Ghibliophile, or are you still just following along with what Michael’s got you into? JC: I would say I am now. I could definitely bore people in conversations with production stories! A lot of people will, I’m sure, have seen a lot of the films, but doing the podcast is the only thing that would have made me watch all of them.
Michael, how proud are you of this achievement? ML: Turning Jake into a new Ghibiliofile is really something. When we went to Japan in November last year—we managed to find change down the back of the sofa, and take the team out and visit the museum, visit Studio Ponoc, who are the spin-off studio founded by veterans from Ghibli—the thing that made me most proud was seeing how excited the rest of the team were. I think just out of shot of Jake’s webcam is a poster of Only Yesterday that he bought in Japan. It’s the only thing he wanted to find, was an original 1991 poster of that. There’s a picture of Jake just absolutely beaming with this poster.
Related content
Our Letterboxd Show Ghibli Magic Moments episode, with Tasha Robinson, David Jenkins and Adam Kempenaar.
Little White Lies editor David Jenkins’ Letterboxd review of My Neighbor Totoro.
The Official Letterboxd Top 250
Letterboxd members’ favorite comfort films.
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blurry-fics · 4 years
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Chapter Three
Where Did We Go | Series Masterlist
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: 1874
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this chapter! :) (picture credit)
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“Ok, I’m off to my meetings. I shouldn’t be home any later than four, and feel free to text me if you need anything. I love you.”
Tyler bent over the back of the couch to give you a quick kiss before rushing off towards the door. You barely managed to get in an “I love you too” before it closed with a thud.
Your eyes lingered on the door for a moment, secretly hoping that Tyler would come straight back inside and announce that all of his meetings had been cancelled so he could spend the entire day with you. Two whole days with him hadn’t been even close to enough time together after the month you had spent apart, even though you had known that this moment was coming. The Emotional Roadshow was only three short weeks away and there always seemed to be more details that needed to be ironed out as it drew closer. It was a routine that you had become familiar with over the years.
Deciding that you might as well use your time alone to be productive, you headed upstairs to start folding some laundry. All of Tyler’s tour stuff had finally come through the wash and you were tired of looking at it piled in the corner of the room. At the very least, it would give you something to do for awhile and make Tyler happy whenever he ended up getting home. There was a reason he had been putting it off in the first place.
You switched on some music before piling all the clothes on the bed and starting to sort them into different piles. It was times like these that you really missed having Georgie around. Despite his rambunctious nature when he was younger, he always provided good company when you were feeling particularly lonely. Unfortunately, Tyler had been adamant that he didn’t want any animals in the house, so when the two of you finally moved in together, Georgie went to live with Carter and Marenna. It wasn’t the worst place in the world for him to be since they lived close, but you still often found yourself missing his company, especially since he had calmed down as he got older.
The folding went by quickly as soon as you got into the swing of things. Before you knew it, everything was separated by location and ready to be put into its proper spot. You decided to start with Tyler’s shirts, since that was easily the biggest pile. With a couple tucked under your arm, you headed into his closet and opened the drawer where he kept his shirts.
You sighed as you got a look at the condition of his t-shirts. There weren’t many that he had left behind, but the ones that he had were thrown all over the place, obviously never having been cleaned up after his last-minute packing frenzy. Deciding that it would be easier to start from scratch, you emptied out the drawer and shook out all the shirts so that they could be properly folded.
You had just barely started to fold the first shirt when something on the ground caught your eye. Tyler’s messy handwriting was all over the back of what appeared to be a card, although you couldn’t quite tell when it was half-buried in the shirts. Forgetting your task for the time being, you picked it up to get a closer look.
“You’re kidding,” you mumbled, your face slowly growing into a smile.
In your hand was a postcard from Columbus, Ohio, marked with the date that he had returned from his very first tour. It was the same postcard that he had claimed not to have because he thought you “wouldn’t want a postcard from the place you lived”. Curiosity quickly got the best of you and you flipped the card back over so that you could read whatever message he had left.
After all, his original intention had been to give it to you, right?
We’re finally back in Ohio. It feels like I’ve been away for a lifetime. I can’t wait to see you again and hear your voice. Man, I’ve missed your voice. And you.
I love you, Y/N. Sorry I never told you earlier.
You read it over a couple times, letting the words sink in even though you had already heard them a hundred times over. Tyler saying that he loved you - however that may be - never seemed to get old.
Once you were done looking over the postcard, you decided to tuck it back away where you had found it. Maybe you would talk to Tyler about it later and ask why he had chickened out at the last minute, although you were pretty sure you already knew the answer. The beginning of your relationship with Tyler was something that the two of you talked about often, and you were always remembering random stories and questions to tell the other; it wasn’t as hard for you to think about that time now that you knew it all had a happy ending. Still, you found yourself wondering how you had managed to get so lucky sometimes.
*     *     *
You watched as the clock turned to 5:15, still with no word from Tyler about when he would be home or why he was so late. The frustration and worry was really starting to set in, so you decided it was long past time that you did something about it. Grabbing your phone from the coffee table, you dialed Tyler’s number, confirmed that the call went through, and brought the phone to your ear. Your foot tapped nervously against the coffee table as you waited for it to start ringing.
The phone only rang once before it cut off and you got sent straight to voicemail. Relief about knowing that Tyler was at least ok washed over you, but it was quickly replaced with disappointment that you wouldn’t get a chance to talk to him. With a sigh, you tossed your phone down onto the couch and decided to try calling again in fifteen minutes if you didn’t hear anything from him. Thankfully, your phone vibrated a minute later.
Tyler: Lots of things going wrong, meetings are going to take awhile, will probably be home late. Don’t wait up for me. I love you
You clenched your jaw as you typed out a reply, trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. It was just one evening that you had to spend without Tyler, and it’s not like it was something you weren’t used to. It was better that they got things worked out now than having more meetings in the future, right?
Y/N: No worries, hope everything gets worked out. Thanks for letting me know. I love you too
Now that you had confirmation that Tyler wouldn’t be home in time to have dinner with you, you decided it was as good a time as any that you made some food for yourself. Once again, you found yourself turning on music to try and fill some of the emptiness of the house. A familiar sense of loneliness started to wash over you, but you pushed it away. You had known from the start that time away from Tyler was just how things went between you two.
Even if he was supposed to have a break.
Half an hour later, you were settled on the couch with a drink and the food that you had made for yourself. Tyler’s plate was wrapped in tinfoil and sitting in the fridge, waiting for him to have whenever he eventually got home. Part of you was still hoping that he would show up out of the blue in the next few minutes.
You opened up your favorite TV show on Netflix and picked up where you had left off the night before, sending another wave of loneliness over you. Everything about the night felt too much like Tyler was on tour again, even though in reality you knew he wasn't more than half an hour away.
That almost made it hurt worse.
You let yourself think about it a moment longer before pushing the thought from your brain and focusing on the TV show. Letting yourself mull over your loneliness was only going to make it that much more difficult. Besides, you had already survived a month without Tyler, what was one more night?
Your phone started ringing shortly after dinner. You practically lunged at it, hoping that it was Tyler finally calling you to let you know that he was on the way home. Although you had missed out on dinner together, there was still enough time for you to cuddle up during a movie and enjoy at least part of the evening together. Unfortunately, it was only Carter.
“Hello?” you answered, accidentally letting a little more disappointment slip into your tone than you had intended.
“Don’t sound so excited to talk to me,” he laughed.
“Sorry, Tyler’s meetings are running late and I haven’t seen him since this morning, so I thought it was him calling to let me know he was on his way home.”
“Yeah, too bad it’s just your dumb brother.”
“Shut up,” you laughed. “You’re not dumb and I’m glad you called. I actually meant to call you earlier today, but I got distracted and forgot.”
“Then it works out.” You could practically see Carter’s smile. “I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”
You kicked your feet back up onto the coffee table. “I’ve been better. How are your last minute wedding preparations?”
“Hectic. Marenna’s cousin called us the other day and started making demands about songs that we had to play, but the problem is that we sent the final playlist to the DJ a week ago.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes. You’d be surprised by how many crazy demands the guests try to make at our wedding.”
“I can only imagine,” you laughed. “Speaking of which, is there anything that I need to bring to entertain Max? Or do you have that handled?”
“We should have that handled, although I would make sure both you and Tyler are wearing clothes that are easy to move in. He just started learning how to run and he’s surprisingly hard to catch,” he laughed.
“Marenna was telling me about that the other day,” you joined his laughter. “I’ll make sure to pack a backup outfit in case I need it.”
“Good idea. Anyway, you said you’ve been better. What’s up?”
“Oh, you know, just frustrated that Tyler isn’t here. Like, obviously I knew he would have meetings because tour is coming up, but we only had two days together. I was hoping for a little more time.”
“Won’t you have time in the coming weeks?”
“Yeah, but you know how it is. No amount of time ever feels like it’s enough, especially when half of our time together is spent with Josh and a tour crew.”
“Just hang in there, Y/N. He’s only been back for a couple days, I’m sure things will start to balance out before long.”
You sighed, “I really hope you’re right.”
*     *     *     *     *
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The Misadventures of Prince Kim - chapter 51
51 chapters... I don’t even know anymore. But anyway, Merry Christmas, have a LOT of Kimax fluff.
Also on AO3 as always where you can read this 190k+ word mess from the beginning
Kim, with Max’s help, had finally managed to finish going through all the International Alliance paperwork that could be completed without Queen Sol here for the time being – and just in time for their one month anniversary! Max was already certain that Kim had been secretly planning something for it, despite it being a relatively small milestone. Unexpectedly, however, Kim’s plans for 14th March started off with something that was much more of a surprise.
“Max, you’ve gotta see this,” Alix said, barging into his room and grabbing the remote control to turn on the television.
“Good morning to you too.”
“Yeah, whatever. Look at this – this dork is on TV and he didn’t even tell me until like 10 minutes ago when I asked why there was a TV crew in the main hall!”
She changed the channel to the news, sitting down beside him on the bed where there was a better view. Max looked up at the television to see the vaguely familiar face of one of the news reporters for this region of the continent.
“…and today we have a very special guest star on our show!” the news reporter was saying. “A foreign prince from a faraway country is here to tell us his exciting tale…”
Kim was going to be on TV? He was actually going to be on TV? Max leapt to his feet, a grin spreading over his face.
“This is fantastic! What a great idea! If Kim tells his story to the millions of viewers, they’ll be more sympathetic to his plight and there will be far more pressure on the International Alliance to accept his country – well as long as he doesn’t spill all the details of course, as that would be unwise, but I trust him to know what to–”
Alix shoved a pillow in his face. “Dude, shut up and listen!”
Max put the pillow aside and watched the screen. The reporter – Clara? – was still giving a rather rambling introduction, thought she finally seemed to be winding down. At last, she gestured to the side and announced, “A very warm welcome to our esteemed guest today, His Royal Highness Prince Kim of the distant kingdom of Lê Chiến!”
The camera cut to a wide shot to show that Kim was sitting in the armchair beside Clara’s. His hair was done immaculately, he wore an áo dài almost more dazzling than the one he’d lost in the lacrosse match to Adam, he sat back in the chair with his hands behind his head and one foot stretched out to rest on the little table in front of him, just giving off a sense of being at ease.
“Thank you for that super introduction, Clara. And hello Sahara region, thanks for tuning in!” He looked directly at the camera and winked, shooting a lazy finger gun as he did so.
Max found himself picking up the pillow again and clinging onto it without realizing. He had always found television appearances stressful, with so many things that could go wrong, so many ways for millions of people to get the wrong impression of you. But Kim didn’t appear to be nervous at all. Perhaps he didn’t quite know the scope of television, how much of an impact it could have… or perhaps he was just a natural at this.
“So, let’s get started with what the people want to know most,” Clara was saying now. “What’s keeping you away from home? Why so often do you visit other countries during your holidays from boarding school? There are suspicions that perhaps you don’t like your kingdom back home very much and prefer more tech-advanced nations – is this true?”
“My kingdom is awesome, actually. After all, I’m the one who’s gonna be running it someday, right?” He flashed a charming smile at the camera again. “But you’re right about me loving tech. Television? Aeroplanes? Portable phones? Modern automobiles? You bet I’ll be implementing that in my own kingdom as soon as I can.”
“Technology certainly is a wonder! But if that isn’t the reason that you haven’t returned home in such a long time, then what is?”
“Unfortunately it isn’t safe. There have been issues at the borders for way too long now, and as much as I want to go back, I can’t. Not that anyone would let me try – no one wants to see me in danger.” He ran a hand through his hair, which sprung right back into perfect formation as soon as his fingers had left it.
“So it’s an issue of security, I see. Any chances that will be fixed soon?”
“No idea. But hey – if anyone out there invents the teleporter, be sure to let me have a go with it and get back home in one piece!”
Every time Kim glanced at the camera with that charismatic smile of his, raising a playful eyebrow, or letting his teeth catch a glint of the light… oh, he knew what he was doing. He knew how attractive he was and he was using it. There was no way the viewers wouldn’t love this cheeky, handsome little prince who just needed a hand getting back home – and he was doing it on purpose!
Max rested his head on the pillow he was still clutching and just stared. Usually Kim would be a little too flustered to act quite so smooth with him, which was cute in its own right, but now Max could not tear his eyes away from Kim’s flawless responses, the confidence, the charisma, the beauty of it all. His sweetheart was a star.
The more political questions had ended now, and Clara began asking more about Kim as a person. This was right in his element – showing off about his athletic capabilities, how quick a runner he was, even mentioning that if his áo dài didn’t have sleeves then he would have flexed his arms for all those viewers who he knew were itching to see it.
“Wow, you really are quite something!” Clara said. “All the ladies in your kingdom must be quite taken with you.”
Kim chuckled. “Who isn’t?”
“So, does a handsome young man like you have a sweetheart?”
“Would I tell you if I did?”
“Only if it wasn’t a commoner!”
Or if it wasn’t a boy, Max thought to himself. While Kim did not keep his relationship with Max a secret while at school, where everyone already knew about Juleka and Rose or Chloé and Lila and hardly cared about yet another such couple, mentioning it directly on international television to millions of viewers was something else entirely.
“So how do you decide which countries you stay in during the holidays?” Clara asked now.
“Oh, well, it depends really. At school I made best friends with Alix – yeah that’s right, my best friend is Pharaoh Alix, and also her pet snake, so she lets me stay here whenever I need to. And Princess Marinette has been a close childhood friend of mine for many years now, so I’m allowed to visit her kingdom too. And as for Prince Max…”
Max’s heart skipped a beat. It seemed so odd to hear himself being talked about on TV by Kim of all people.
“…we’re very close. He keeps me company in the holidays, which I really appreciate. He’s a very sweet friend.”
Sweet friend? Max wanted to laugh. That was such an obvious way of putting it, and poor Kim had no idea he’d even done that. No doubt, by tomorrow everyone would have come to their own conclusions about what “sweet friend” really meant – and hopefully not disapproving!
“That’s very nice to hear!” Clara said, a surprisingly genuine smile on her face. “Prince Max is well-loved by his people for his wise, gentle ways. I’m sure they’re delighted to find out how close the two of you are, despite your differing kingdoms and personalities.”
That much was probably true. Max did indeed have a rather high approval rating back in his own country, and now that some of those citizens would be watching this interview, Kim’s popularity would probably begin rising too if his good looks and personality hadn’t already helped with that.
Oh Kim, he was always just so sweet!
The rest of the interview carried on without anything especially remarkable. Max was simply content to watch – maybe it was silly, maybe self-indulgent, but he really liked seeing Kim being so enchanting, practically flirting with the camera, really putting on the charms. All those winks, the finger guns, the cocky smile, the hand he ruffled through his pointy tuft of hair, the occasional blown kiss…
And it ended before he knew it. How long had that interview lasted? Max was rather bad at keeping track of time whenever Kim was involved, for some reason. But now Clara had said goodbye and moved onto the next news section.
“So how was that?” Alix asked, switching off the television again and poking Max in the arm. “Did he mess up on anything?”
Max sighed, still staring at the empty screen. “No. He was perfect.”
“Damn right he was. He called me his best friend! On international telly! Isn’t that awesome?”
“Yeah…”
“And he seemed to answer all the politics questions really well, though I’m probably not the best person to judge that. Right?”
“Mhm…”
She poked him again. “You’re not listening, are you?”
“Um, well, I was just–”
“Daydreaming about doing some scientific research with Kim, yeah, I know.”
Max could feel his face warming up. “I’m sorry. It’s just that today, 14th March, marks a whole month since Kim and I got together, and the thought is rather distracting.”
“A month, only? Feels like it’s been way longer than that already.”
“It’s the opposite for me.” Max leaned on the pillow again, his mind flowing with memories. “It feels like it’s flown by.”
“Well, if it really has been a month, then I guess you should go find Kim and–”
The door was suddenly flung open and Kim stood there, leaning over to catch his breath.
“Kim!” Max jumped up off the bed and threw the pillow aside. “We just watched your interview!”
“Awesome!” Kim said. “I literally just finished it, ran all the way here.”
“But why–”
Before Max could say another word, Kim had already crossed the room and scooped Max up into his arms. “Happy one month anniversary! I had to rush over here to hang out with you!”
Oh, that was just so sweet! Max put his arms around Kim’s neck and leaned into his chest, feeling right at home there like he always did these days. “Happy one month anniversary to you too, Kim. Though the word ‘anniversary’ really only applies to yearly celebrations, because of the prefix, which comes from the Latin… oh, never mind. We can call it an anniversary.”
“You’re so smart,” Kim whispered into his hair, holding him so close it was practically a hug. “And so cute. And the nicest person ever. I love you so much, you know that, right?”
“Can you guys go be mushy somewhere else?” Alix said, sounding bored. “Or I’ll leave if you want. Either’s fine.”
Kim put Max down, settling for holding his hand instead. “No, it’s alright, I have somewhere to take Max anyway. Somewhere super cool. Come on, sweetie! Let’s go!”
He ran off without even waiting for a reply, and Max let himself be pulled along by his adorable, hyperactive sweetheart. Most of the servants in the corridors didn’t care at this point – they probably all knew that Kim and Max were a couple anyway. Max wondered how long the rumours would take to get back to his kingdom, probably accelerated by the interview today.
Would it be worth it to publicly come out?
Well, that wasn’t something he needed to think about right now. At this moment, all that mattered was whatever Kim had planned for him.
They went up the swirling staircase in the centre of the north wing tower, all the way to the top, so tall that Max had to stop a few times to rest. Finally they made it and went through the door out onto the roof at the top.
Max had only been up here once before, several years ago, when he was visiting this kingdom with his parents, and Alix had sneaked out of a boring meeting with him and Nino – who had still been called “Nina” back then – and brought them up here to hide. It still looked the same, really. A view of the palace below them, with desert and mansions stretching off into the distance in one direction, and the city in the other.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Kim said, holding Max’s hand a little tighter as he leaned against the railings.
“It really is a stunning view.”
“But you know what’s even better? This!”
From out of his pockets Kim pulled a little piece of card and handed it to Max. On closer inspection it was not a card but a photograph. A photograph of Max.
“Remember this?” Kim continued, now putting an arm around him. “Last holidays I took this picture of you and it turned out really awesome! Well I want you to have it.”
“That’s very sweet, but you’re the one who took this photo, so perhaps you should be the one to keep it.”
“I already have a copy. One of the servants taught me how to use the photocopier, so I can have as many pictures of the cutest person in the world whenever I want.”
Cutest person in the world! Max was sure his heart was going to burst. Kim was always saying such lovely things to him all the time, how did he even do it? Did he know what an effect it had?
“And I got you flowers too,” Kim said, blushing slightly. “Not with me, but I’ll give them to you later. Actually now that I think about it, I probably should have gone to my room first and got those, rather than going straight to your room, but I just really wanted to see you…”
“You don’t need to give me flowers, it’s alright!”
“But I want to. You deserve it.”
“So anyway, about that interview!” Max said quickly, aware that he was rapidly becoming very flustered. “When did you even organize it?”
“Oh, that! I literally just thought about it last night. I realized doing a TV interview would make me look really cool and then everyone would like me and let my country in the International Alliance. So I went and asked Jalil, ‘cause he’s organized and knows about all this stuff, and he called the news crew and they happily agreed to interview me on short notice since I’m a prince and everything.”
“That was a very good idea, I must say.”
Kim ran his free hand through his hair, the action somehow looking even more attractive than usual considering he was still wearing that new áo dài, leaning back against the railings, the sun lighting up his face. “Thanks! So um… how was the interview? Did I do okay?”
“You were amazing!” Max turned to stand directly in front of Kim and took both his hands in his own. “Your answers to all the questions were absolutely spot on. And your demeanour in general was very…”
“Likeable?”
Hot was actually the word he had been thinking of, but he just nodded. “Yes. You were very likeable.”
“Awesome!”
“I’m sure the people of the region must love you. We’ll wait to read about it in tomorrow’s newspapers, I suppose. And…” Max looked down, smiling. “We’ll get to read about what everyone thinks of the phrase ‘sweet friend’.”
“Oh, that!” Kim’s voice had a note of uncertainty in it now. “Listen, I just – I didn’t know whether or not I should tell anyone about, like, us I guess! I mean, I wanted to, but I thought what if that’s a weird thing to say on TV? What if you get deposed or something? So I just said you were my friend and I hope that’s okay!”
“Of course that’s okay!”
“Thank goodness! And for the record, I still meant it, okay?” Kim gently held Max’s face in his hands, looking right in his eyes, his voice softening now. “You’re still my best friend. You can be both my sweetheart and my best friend at the same time, right?”
For a few seconds Max just stared up at him, unable to say a word. Kim’s face was very close to his own, and it was making him dizzy. Surely he should be used to it by now? It had been a month already! But no, his brain still took several seconds to process the fact that Kim was only a few centimetres away, and knowing him, was about to get even closer.
“Certainly,” Max managed to say finally. He willed his brain to work enough to say something else too, because Kim liked listening to him speak, didn’t he? “In fact, I would say that’s ideal. Anyone who is considered a sweetheart should be close enough to be a best friend too.”
“Yeah, you’re right. No wonder Chloé turned me down ages ago. I’d met her like twice.” Kim laughed and shook his head. “I was such an idiot back then. But I hope I’m better now. And hopefully the countries in the International Alliance think so.”
“I’m sure they do. How could they not? You’re wonderful!”
Gushing did not come as naturally to Max as it seemed to for Kim, but he made an effort now all the same. It was worth it to see the sparkle in Kim’s eyes, the lovestruck smile, the blushy glow on his cheeks, knowing he had made his sweetheart happy. And plus, it was true! Kim really was wonderful.
“I can’t argue with that,” Kim said, winking, before pulling Max’s face closer and kissing the tip of his nose. “So. What else should we do today, on our one month anniversary? I was thinking maybe a trip to the museum or something! You like museums, don’t you? It would be fun! And the city tower has a restaurant on the top floor so I could take you there in the evening for dinner and we could watch the sunset. And then we could come back and watch a movie or something. What do you think?”
A date that lasted the entire day? That was so sweet, it was almost too much! Max just buried his face in Kim’s chest, grinning stupidly. “That sounds very romantic…”
He felt Kim’s arms wrap around him. “Of course! Only the best for you. And let me know if you want anything else.”
“No, it sounds perfect.”
“Awesome! There’s only one problem, though. According to Alix, there��ll be paparazzi at the museum and probably the tower too, like there always is when we go into the city, so um… no kissing while we’re there.”
“Understandable.”
“So then maybe we should just…” Kim put a finger under Max’s chin and lifted his face back up to look at him. “…kiss now instead?”
That was the thing – Kim was always just so polite about it, always asking Max for kisses, so hesitant about it in a way that he never was about anything else. All it did was make Max fall even further in love with him. Not only was Kim a star, Kim was a star who was all his. And no amount of interviews or commoner admirers could ever change that.
Max went up on his tiptoes and leaned forwards, closing his eyes, putting his hands on Kim’s shoulders, half tempted to just take his glasses off just so this could be a little closer and last a little longer–
“Oh come on!”
They sprung apart and turned towards the doorway to see Alix standing there, a hang-glider strapped to her back and a helmet on her head, a very unimpressed expression on her face.
“What are you doing here?” Kim snapped.
“Hang-gliding, duh!”
“Well can you leave?”
“What? Why can’t you leave? I can’t hang-glide from anywhere else, whereas you two can easily go make out in one of your rooms, in fact, you can even do this magical thing there called locking the door so that no one can accidentally walk in on you–”
“But that’s not very romantic!”
“Kim, it’s alright,” Max said, trying not to laugh. “I know one of the guest rooms has a balcony, which I’m sure is very romantic too. We can have palace dates there and Alix can be sure to avoid it.”
“Okay, I guess…”
“Thanks,” Alix said. “And by the way, happy one month anniversary. I hope you guys have a great day.”
“Aww, thank you! We–”
“Now get out of my way. I have to go jump off this tower.”
Kim took Max’s hand again and together they went back down the tower steps, leaving Alix in peace to go illegally hang-gliding up at the top.
A date in the city… this was going to be so much fun. Maybe it wouldn’t feel particularly different from the rest of the times they spent together, or wouldn’t feel different from when they used to do similar things in the context of friendship. Especially when the paparazzi would probably be watching their every move.
But did that matter? What mattered was that Max was going to spend the whole day having fun with Kim, his sweetheart, and it was going to be wonderful.
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pedroscurls · 7 years
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Title: You’re Safe With Me
@sginger1995​ requested: Could you do a story where a new resident moves into max's building and she has an ex thats abusive that she had kids with and max starts acting like a dad for them and a husband for the new resident?
Character(s): Max and Reader Summary: Max didn’t expect for you, the new tenant, to be newly divorced with two young children. However, the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that you had taken him out of the walls and shown him a world that he always knew he could live.  Word Count: 2,465 Warning: Fluff! Mention of domestic abuse!!  Author’s Note: Ahh!!! I have been waiting so long to write this request. If anyone that knows me knows that Max is my #1 weakness (Denny coming in a close second). He is bae and one of my favorite characters that JDM has played. I know. Something must be wrong with me, right? Anyway, @sginger1995, thank you so so much for requesting this! I loved the idea behind it and I couldn’t wait to start writing! I hope you enjoy it! :-)
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(GIF Source: @jeffrey-daddy-morgan)
You were waiting for a sign from the universe to tell you to pack up and leave. The bruises and scars that covered your body was enough of a sign, but you never realized it until your ex-husband almost killed you. You two children were staying with your parents while you left to go to New York to find a new home.
The divorce was finalized. The restraining order had been issued. Though, the nightmares never ceased. You hoped New York would bring a positive change into your life and the lives of your two children.
Then, you saw it. There was an ad in the paper for a newly renovated apartment that had an amazing view. You hoped that it was in your budget.
You decided to check out the apartment spontaneously. Dressed in a casual loose, spaghetti strapped, pastel yellow dress, you hitched a cab and told the man the address of your potential new home.
After paying the driver the needed fee, plus tip, you exited the yellow car and looked up at the building. It was tiny and unlike the large building in the city of New York. However, when you turned around, your breath was taken away at the sight of the amazing view of the bridge. You knew your kids would love it.
Stepping into the building, you took the old-fashioned elevator to the designated floor. Once the elevators stopped, you opened the doors and stepped out. Glancing back at the paper in hand, you heard the sound of a machine cutting wood nearby. Deciding to follow the noise, your flip flops quietly padded against the hardwood floor.
You noticed the door was open and took that as an invite to step inside. You looked around; it was big and just the right size for you and your two children. The three large windows casted a natural light to illuminate the home, but not without admiring the view.
Suddenly, you were brought back to life when the noise ceased and you heard someone clearing their throat. Turning on your heel to face the person, you looked at him and noticed that he was wearing all white – white v-neck, white pants – and he was covered in saw dust.
Behind his rugged look, you noticed his beard that was tinged with specks of grey and his gentle brown eyes followed by the deep dimples that was hidden behind his facial hair.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I – Uh, I saw your ad in the paper and I wanted to check it out.”
“Well, as you can see, I’m not yet done renovating,” he smiled.
You blushed. You were desperate to have a fresh start and new life, and gaining a crush on a potential landlord was not the way to go about it. “I see that… Is the apartment not for rent, then?”
“No no, it is. I mean, if you don’t mind the sound of the train and the poor reception, then it’s yours.”
“Mine?” you were astonished. The man didn’t even ask for personal information.
He stepped forward. You noticed the height difference, but there was an aura about him that somehow made you feel safe. “I’m Max. I should probably start there,” he said, maintaining the gentle smile.
“I’m [Y/N]…”
“It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]. Like I said, the apartment is yours if you don’t mind those two downfalls, and of course, if you don’t mind allowing me to work.”
You smiled, “Just as long as you’re not doing it while I’m sleeping, we should be fine.”
“So, you’ll take it?” he asked.
“I don’t think it’s in my budget, to be honest. This is a beautiful apartment in a beautiful neighborhood with a beautiful view and –”
“Twenty-two hundred.”
You almost choked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Two thousand, two hundred for rent, including utilities.”
“You’re joking.”
“I can assure you that I’m not,” he chuckled.
“O – Okay… Then yes, I’ll take it.”
“Great. I’ll need more information later, but how about you and I go for a cup of coffee?” Max asked. He hadn’t expected anyone to see the ad in his paper – after all, no one read the newspaper anymore. Though, he was glad to see you walk through that door. You were like a godsend, especially since his life was beginning to spiral downwards.
“Oh, uh…” you mumbled.
Max’s face dropped. He knew he shouldn’t have risked it and put himself out there. He should have known that you just wanted an apartment and nothing else. “I understand –”
“You know what? Let’s go out for a cup of coffee. I’m new around here, so I’d love to have a tour guide.”
Max relaxed, smiling once more. “Great. Let me get ready and change into something much more decent. I’ll be quick.”
You decided to walk through the apartment, already imagining where the furniture would be set up. You knew that your two children would love the big space, and especially the view. You found yourself with your arms wrapped around your frame, staring out the large window.
You didn’t know how much time passed, but before you knew it, Max reappeared dressed in a white button-up shirt with dark brown pants. You smiled, and he extended an arm for you to take. Without hesitation, you looped your arm through his and followed him eagerly.
Meeting Max happened almost three months ago. Since then, your two children had moved in with you and you were going through a nasty custody battle with your ex-husband. Your children were eight and ten, both boys. Alex, the older one of the two, had your husband’s blue eyes while Adam, the youngest, had your brown ones. It was a good thing that both boys looked like you and nothing like their father.
“Mommy, are we going to the movies with Max tonight?” Adam asked, swinging his feet while sitting at the dining table. She was preparing dinner and both boys were seated and ready, waiting for their mother to place the food on the table.
“I don’t know, honey. Max has a lot of work to do,” you replied. In the three months that you met Max, it surprised you how well he was with both your boys. Every time they were together, you wondered if anything would transpire between the two of you. You wished he made a move, kissed you, admitted his feelings, but it never happened, so you stopped wishing for something that may never occur.
“He promised we’d watch the new movie that’s out though, mom,” Alex added.
Before you could reply, there was a knock at the door and both boys scrambled off their chairs to run to the door.
“Who is it?!” they both asked.
You laughed quietly to yourself, shaking your head. You knew it was Max, but it was still an adorable moment. You placed the spaghetti and garlic bread onto the table, grabbing four glasses and filling them with water.
“It’s Max,” he replied.
“It’s Max!” both boys exclaimed with excitement, struggling to unlock the door.
“Hold on, Max! We’re opening the door!”
You heard a chuckle from the other end of the door and decided to walk towards it. You watched with amusement and leaned against the wall with your arms crossed. You smiled to yourself and watched as both boys managed to unlock it without your help.
When they opened the door, Max stepped inside and hoisted the boys into his arms. He was dressed casually in a dark colored shirt and pants. He kissed both Alex and Adam’s heads before walking towards you.
“Hey,” he whispered.
“Hi. Dinner’s on the table,” you smiled.
“Mom made spaghetti,” Adam said.
“And garlic bread,” Alex added.
“That sounds incredibly delicious. Can you both sit at the table while I talk to your mom for a sec?” Max asked, setting both boys down onto their feet. They nodded and ran to the dining room, leaving you with Max in the hallway.
“What’s up?” you asked, furrowing a brow.
Max fidgeted. He pocketed his hands and lowered his gaze. You wondered what was on his mind, so you reached a hand out to touch his shoulder gently. “Max?”
“Do you – Um, want to grab dinner with me sometime? I know you’re dealing with a lot, but I don’t mind cooking for you for a change. We can even stay here,” he suggested.
You cleared your throat. You never thought this day would come. You couldn’t help the smile the lined your lips and the blush that appeared on your cheeks. “Really?” you asked.
“Is that surprising?”
“I just – Kind of always had a crush on you and waited for you to ask me out.” you rolled your eyes. “Wow. I sound like a teenager right now. I’m sorry. I’d love to have dinner with you, Max.”
Ever since you stepped into his life, Max hadn’t gone to his secret hallways. He didn’t even have the urge to spy on you when he heard the water running in the tub. He was waiting for the right moment to ask you out, and he was so glad that he had been so patient.
Max grinned and leaned down to kiss your cheek. You shut your eyes and rested a hand absently on his chest. Pulling back, you looked up at him and smiled with a pink hue tainting your cheeks.
“If we don’t eat with the boys now, they’re going to start without us. If they do that, my dining room will end up becoming a big mess,” you giggled.
Max chuckled, “You’re right. Plus, I promised them both a movie.”
“That you did. They’re both excited.”
Leading him back to the table, you noticed Alex and Adam chewing on each a slice of garlic bread. They looked up at you and grinned innocently.
“You boys are trouble,” you teased.
“But we love you,” Adam smiled.
“Mhm, he’s right. We do love you, mom.”
“Well, good, because I love you both very much too.” you kissed the crown of their heads and sat down next to Max.
Your youngest son, Adam, added, “And we love Max too!”
Alex grinned. “Mhm! We love you, Max!”
Max felt tears pool at his eyes. He had never known what it was like to be loved. His mother had died when he was young that he forgot what it felt like to have that bond with her. His grandfather, August, didn’t show him any affection while growing up, so love was long forgotten.
When you stepped into this apartment three months ago, Max didn’t realize how good of a decision it was to give you this place. Since then, you showed him a life that he always yearned to have for himself: a beautiful woman who could potentially become a wife and two loving children. A family.
Max spent almost every day with you and your boys that he had grown to love each and every one of you. However, the boys held a special place in Max’s heart.
“I love you guys too,” Max finally responded. “You two are the best. Do you know that?”
“Do you love my mommy too?” Adam asked, watching as you gave an ample amount of spaghetti onto his plate.
Max hesitated, glancing at you. “Your mother’s a great woman. I’d be stupid if I didn’t.”
You bit your lower lip, setting the plate down in front of Adam before preparing a plate for Alex as well. Both boys were aware of the abuse from your ex-husband, so they were never really close with their father. They spent nights crying to sleep because they heard your pleas followed by screams of pain.
Meeting Max and spending time with him showed both of your boys how a family should be like and they yearned for it. Max made you happy while their father made you cry. They were young, but they were smart enough to know that your happiness mattered more to them than you thought.
“Good, because I think my mommy loves you too,” Alex giggled, twirling his fork around the noodles.
Max glanced over at you and smiled, resting a hand on your thigh absently. You stiffened for a moment before relaxing, resting your own hand against his for a moment.
“All right, boys. Eat up, okay? Then, we’re going to go and watch a movie with Max,” you said.
“You’re coming?!” Alex grinned.
“Yes, of course. Besides, I want some popcorn and candy,” you smiled, poking his tummy.
The rest of you ate rather quickly. Max cracked a few jokes and the boys spent the entire time giggling. When they finished dinner, you told both boys to get ready and they sped to the bathroom eagerly.
You were cleaning the dishes when you felt Max wrap his arms hesitantly around you from behind. He placed soft kisses onto your shoulder and up to behind your ear, gently nibbling at your earlobe.
“Max…” you whimpered, causing him to push into you from behind.
“I’m sorry,” he bit his lower lip, pulling away. “We’re moving in all sorts of directions, aren’t we?”
You nodded placing the clean dishes into the dishwasher to dry. You turned around and wiped down the counter before walking to the table to clean as well. “It seems that we are, but I don’t mind one bit. The boys love you, Max, and whatever direction you and I decide to go in, they’ll always love you. I won’t take that away from them.”
Max bit his lower lip. “Really? What if we don’t work out?”
“Then we don’t. You mean a lot to them, okay? They never really had a strong male figure in their life. I’m certainly not going to take that away.”
“What about their father?”
“He was an abusive asshole who never showed them the time of day. I don’t understand why he wants custody of my boys.”
Max sighed. He had seen a few of her scars and the protectiveness that Max felt almost made him do drastic things to her ex-husband. “He wants to hurt you, that’s why.”
“I know he does, but when I win, he’s never going to see them again. I will make sure of that.”
Max nodded, hesitantly kissing your cheek. “Alex and Adam mean hell of a lot to me too. I’m not letting them go either.”
“Besides, we’re going work out,” you added.
Max smiled, “Oh yeah?”
“Definitely.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I’ve just got a good feeling about us,” you winked.
Alex and Adam ran back into the kitchen, both boys wrapping their arms around Max’s legs.
Max chuckled, looking into your eyes and nodding. “Yeah, I’ve got a good feeling about us too.”
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Prompt #176 - Charlie and Her Brother’s Memory
No prompt. 
I’ve had a bit of writer's block and couldn’t find the words for anything. This was a part of Charlie and Daddy’s Boy but I never wrote it because I didn’t want to tack a massive time jump like this onto the end of that story. But, it was the only words I could find in the past couple weeks and with my 2 year anniversary for clawen coming up on the 9th I felt like I had to post something. 
I’ll be pretty busy all week -- and probably for the next few weeks. I am still trying to find my rhythm from last trimester at Uni. Can’t seem to catch it. 
This prompt is kinda long and set when Charlie is 27. So, I know a lot of you won’t be 100% into reading this but I enjoyed seeing these girls at an older age -- and Ellie’s babies. So, I hope you will too. 
AO3 - Charlie and Elliot Index - Commission 
CHARLIE AND HER BROTHER’S MEMORY
Despite her stance on procreation Charlie Grady couldn’t help but adore the feeling of a baby in her arms. She was too close to her thirties and adamant that her life wasn’t slipping out from under her feet. Too many years passed as her sister graduated college, married the man of her dreams and added another two children to their pre-existing family of three. Elliot progressed in the game of life while Charlie continued to wielded guns in Indonesia. She only came home for family; if it was forced.
At an early age, Charlie’s parents instilled a deep respect for family life that was to be treasured above all else. No matter what was happening, they were there for one another. She broke that cardinal rule by being in another country moving from Indonesia to China and back again when her cause changed.
She was late to a party that happened six-months ago.
Charlie couldn’t put her finger on why she was nervous. Her hands twitched, fingers jumping as she reached into her bag for a cigarette. This was her family home, the place her parents raised her full of heartbreak and joy, memories almost spilling out of the roof. She lingered on the porch, lighting her cigarette and leaning on the banister as she tried to breathe. It had been a year — longer — since she had last come home, running away from responsibility and trying her best to not look back.
She’d missed the birth of her nephew, an event Charlie was happy to avoid until the all clear was granted her father finally insisting that she had to come home before her nieces and nephew were no longer recognisable to her. The last thing Charlie wanted was to be alien to her family members; especially the youngest ones.
Elliot knew she was home without Charlie needing to knock. She hadn’t even moved from the railing, three drags into her cigarette before the front door was pulled open, small blonde stepping through.
‘Hey,’ she always spoke on the same soft register their mother reached at bedtimes weaving in between rooms with books and promises of tomorrow. Little mouse, through and through. Elliot had grown into their mother, minus a few inches on her height, as she remained cool, calm, collected and in control no matter the circumstance. She taught fourth grade, mastering the ability to juggle her own three children and a class of twenty-five nine-year-olds. Charlie held a great respect for her in doing that, just as their mother swallowed her pride on Elliot not teaching High School or mastering quantum physics. It had long since become a reality for Claire Dearing that her daughter’s wouldn’t climb prestigious ladders. Instead, Elliot would do her part to help children learn and Charlie would — well, Charlie played with tigers on her hands and knees forming bonds beyond zoo enclosures, out in the wild to better understand them. She was Jane Goodall and David Attenborough rolled into one dangerous mix Claire struggled to hear about. No doubt, she was proud of her daughters regardless.
Charlie fluttered a smile in her sister’s direction, ignoring the scolding look Elliot passed towards the cigarette. There had been a time where she would have asked for a drag, long before either of them should have known where to get cigarettes, let alone have them in their possession. It was simple rebellion, born when they were young back when Charlie harboured a tattoo no one but Elliot knew about.
There was a baby in Elliot’s arms. Charlie didn’t miss that fact, her eyes drawn to the chubby pink baby clad in a blue striped onesie. She put out her cigarette, dropping it to the deck and stepping on it before kicking it off the side and into the grass. Elliot sighed with disapproval before she handed her son over. ‘I didn’t know you were coming home.’
‘Surprise?’ Charlie shrugged, accepting the heavy bundle of her six-month-old nephew. ‘Hey little buddy, I’m your Aunt Charlie.’ She introduced herself to the inquisitive eyed child, smiling down at his face despite feeling a tear pull apart in her heart. He was so much bigger, heavier, rounder in the cheeks but she saw something in her nephew’s eyes Charlie couldn’t deny. He looked like his dad, so much so, but there was a distant memory trying to grow through his features. ‘He looks like Max.’
She saw her sister drop to the chair on the porch, head in her hands as she sighed heavily. ‘Please don’t say that.’ Elliot grimaced, barely looking up at her sister and her son. Charlie shrugged again. He did. Same blond hair threatening to turn red and their mother’s green eyes. Their brother had been small when he died, barely developed his discerning features forever a mystery but Charlie swore she saw Max Grady in Louis Yates’ face.
‘He’d be twenty-one this year.’ She started, eyes lost in her nephew. Charlie should have been home, escorting her brother from one nightclub to the next as he legally got intoxicated. She should have been able to see him graduate from college or come home from travelling the world. He was supposed to be as grown as they were now, still squatting in their parents house because why would the baby boy want to leave the luxuries of home? Their loving mother would be handing him the moon in having his laundry done. Not that Charlie could remember a time her mother did the laundry beyond putting clothes away a paid cleaner had washed.
‘Stop it, Charlie.’ Elliot pleaded. ‘I don’t want to think about it.’
‘You don’t want to think about your brother?’ Charlie questioned, pushing buttons. She should have come earlier; to visit, to see her nephew immediately after he was born. To be honest, Charlie hid herself away as fast as she could when her sister told her she was pregnant with a third. Elliot elected to not find out the gender until the baby was born but the fact that it was a third child to a Grady woman did not bode well with Charlie and past events. Her aversion got worse when Toby sent her a birth announcement introducing Louis to the family. She stayed away as long as she could before her father told her she needed to make young memories with her nephew. He was six months old, well beyond the SIDS mark and that alone tried to comfort her.
Louis was in perfect health, hadn’t even so much as had the hiccups in his short life. It should have been soothing but Charlie was fearing for the worst. She likely wouldn’t rest on the matter until she was in her grave.
‘I don’t want to think about it because I barely remember him. There’s no use wasting my energy worrying about something that happened twenty-years ago.’ She saw Charlie recoil, something akin to disgust slipping across her face. ‘Louis is not Max. Can we please move on.’
Charlie shuffled her weight, holding the baby in one arm as she reached for the wallet in her back pocket. Expertly she flicked it open and shimmied something out of a sleeve before thrusting it in Elliot’s direction. The picture was old, twenty-years had passed it in the recesses of Charlie’s wallet, edges soft and slightly fraying, the colour faded. It had been folded at one point, crease right down the middle but that didn’t deviate from the subject at hand. Elliot’s heart clenched at the thought of her sister carrying this around for years, clinging on to God knew what in it’s memory.
The picture was simple, the memory blurred for Elliot but warm in hushed whispers and tight hugs with her family. She was only three at the time, unable to recall the picture being taken but there it was regardless. The whole Dearing-Grady family of five. It had been taken in the hospital, likely by their grandmother, Elliot tucked into her mother’s left side, Charlie on her right, Owen curled around them, his cheek pressed to the top of his wife’s head over Elliot’s shoulder. Max was in Charlie’s arms, four sets of eyes on him. It baffled Elliot momentarily as to why Charlie had this picture instead of the professional ones their mother had organised — fortunately — a week or two before Max left them. She spotted it without needing reference of the studio photos. It was all on Charlie. Even if she couldn’t remember it, the love in Charlie’s twenty-year-old expression was unmistakable. She would have laid down her life for that boy immediately if it was a matter of choice. She would have done the same for Elliot. Charlie, despite being absent and forcing aloof on her personality, was fiercely loyal. She had shown her sister that time and time again no matter how hard they fought. It had driven their mother crazy with constant bickering and at dire times, physical fighting only for Charlie or Elliot to turn on her when she tried to discipline one of them for causing an issue.
There was no winning with the Grady girls.
‘Charlie, why do you have this?’ Elliot asked, turning sad blue eyes on her sister. She could feel her heart breaking along with Charlie’s, with their parents at their time of tragedy. Elliot had lived her life knowing someone was following her with every milestone. She was near two years older than him at time of conception and yet everything she did felt like her parents were waiting for someone else to catch up. She tried her best to ignore it but at her highest times of achievement she felt it crawl up her spine. Even though she didn’t remember him and didn’t want to think about him at all; Max had never left Elliot.
Charlie shrugged, lifting her nephew closer to her face as she kissed his forehead before handing him back to her sister. ‘I know I’ve not been home for a while but even I know Mom and Dad started pulling out his pictures again.’ She wasn’t wrong, the studio photos they had taken, the family portrait of all five Dearing-Grady’s had taken place on the mantel piece for the first time. Never had that picture been up on a wall or sitting on a side table. They arrived too late to be cherished. Now, it seemed, old wounds were finally healing Owen and Claire ready to outwardly cherish the small time they had with their son. Louis grizzled in his mother’s arms, Elliot tearing her attention from her sister to assist in soothing him. ‘I stole it from Dad actually.’ Charlie was talking about the picture now back in her hands and she stroked the edges. ‘He had in in his wallet since the day it was taken. He almost had it a whole year before I pinched it. Max’s first birthday was hard on all of us, but I could see Dad panicked a little more than the rest. He lost the picture. I had it, he didn’t know, nor did he ask and I certainly wasn’t surrendering it. All of Max’s other pictures were in the garage or with Nana and I couldn’t just ask for one.’ She could have. They all knew it. Charlie would have been given the moon if it meant cracking the code to her baffling actions. She was moody and unpredictable, she was getting kicked out of school and put on the bench in her sports teams. She upped the anti on physical activity. She stopped swimming, started running until she puked, kept on with baseball but prioritised karate until she hit a few too many kids on purpose and called them weak. She begged her parents for ice skates and a place on the hockey team; rink and field. At eight years old she didn’t stop moving; if she did, Charlie thought she would drown. Her parents strategised it as a way to channel her aggression.
Elliot had been none the wiser, caught in her youth and draped in attention. When Max died, all their parents wanted was the baby that left them. Elliot was the next best replacement, still young and willing for a cuddle. Charlie went through the five stages of grief in an unpredictable order, never reaching acceptance and ending on anger but having passed through depression in her original isolation and denial stage. After a while, she didn’t want to be touched or spoken to; Elliot got all the attention as Charlie icily shrugged her parents away.
They had wondered what they did wrong, why Charlie hated them all the while Charlie thew her first into other people, or slammed them against walls because she didn’t know how to relate anymore. She was broken, always had been and always would. They had their good days, years even but it always came back to this bitter little girl who was screaming inside because she lost her brother.
‘I don’t think he knows I have it.’ Charlie continued, waving the picture at Elliot one last time before she slid it back into her wallet. ‘I want it to remain that way.’ She warned softly, replacing her wallet in her pocket and pulling out another cigarette.
Elliot shook her head, trying hard not to judge her sister’s bad habit as she rocked the baby in her arms, legs crossed, reclined in the porch chair. They’d spent too many summers out there, running in the sprinklers, or racing their bikes up and down the driveway and out onto the street when the coast was clear. It was a given, whenever Elliot turned her head that her mother was sitting on the porch, lemonade in hand, reading a book and watching them over the pages or that their father was tinkering in the garage, door wide open so he could race to their aid. It was almost strange sitting there as adults, knowing, for Elliot, that her two eldest children were inside running their grandparents ragged while she stepped out for fresh air. No one even knew Charlie had ascended on the porch just yet.
‘I just don’t get the use of hanging onto the past, Char. He’s gone. He wasn’t even here for that long.’ It didn’t stop them from avoiding their parents bedroom for weeks or skirting around the subject of baby boys for the rest of their lives.
Charlie turned away from her sister, watching the small flowerbed at her feet dance in a faint breeze. ‘C’mon, Ellie. Dad’s allowed to harbour angst but I’m not?’
‘Dad doesn’t harbour angst.’ Charlie cocked a brow, fingers flicking at her cigarette as she challenged her sister. She caught Elliot in a moment, the younger girl pausing as she cocked her head and bit her lip in thought. There was something there, Charlie knew it. ‘Maybe he still worries.’ Elliot knew he did. Thinking back, she saw how closely he hovered when Louis was born, how he barely left her house and Elliot elected to ignore the behaviour instead of putting it in the basket of ‘odd’.
‘He’s never going to stop. Dad’ll always worry about you, me, Nora, Grace, Louis, Mom and Max, especially Max. He’ll always be concerned that he’ll lose us when it’s his job to keep us safe.’
Elliot kissed her son’s head. ‘It’s not fair that he projects that worry onto us though. From the second I found out I was pregnant with Louis, I felt like all eyes were on me. I not only had to carry to term but I had to make sure he lived.’ Her eyes were on her son, not her sister as she stroked the baby’s chubby cheeks. She felt the weight of her whole family on her shoulders the second she missed her period. It was enough that Elliot agonised over telling her family and when her doctor confirmed it was a boy, Elliot was sick with worry and guilt. She didn’t remember the minute detail’s of Max’s face like Charlie did or the colour of his eyes. Their parents had put his baby pictures up along side hers, Charlie’s and that of their grandbabies but his face seemed foreign beside familiar faces. It didn’t mean that she wasn’t worried their genetic history would make a repeat event.
Charlie called it the Dearing-Grady family curse. Aside from Heather, everyone on both the Dearing side of the family and the Grady’s only had two children; typically of the same gender. Their aunt Karen had boys, so did their Uncle Travis. Their parents had two girls, so did Elliot. When a third baby was tried for it either didn’t happen or once conceived was miscarried. Elliot hated that Charlie would whisper like that, joining the dots at family events and pointing it out to whoever would listen. Elliot caught her one year, Charlie home for the holidays leaning into the shoulder of a friend she brought along, pointing to all the children and asking why each set of adults only settled on two. She was convinced it was the cosmos for some inexplicable reason. Elliot wished she would shut up.
She knew when she confirmed a third pregnancy that everyone would be wishing nothing went wrong. Elliot knew, too, that her father was practically praying for a grandson while simultaneously asking for a third granddaughter. They all knew he wanted someone to fill the Max shaped hole in his life but had grown so accustomed to having it there he didn’t want it to go away. Elliot lived nine months terrified that her body would betray her as her mother hovered close and her father dropped everything for the smallest of things. Her husband didn’t know. She wanted it that way, Elliot couldn’t bear having another person breathing down her neck or reaching out to her with shaking hands. It was Charlie who scared her the most. They had never been close but they were always there for each other. Charlie stopped answering her phone.
Louis was born a week past his due date, happy with his delayed entry into the world. His height and weight were a little over average, his fingers and toes in place. He came home immediately to a house commandeered by her parents who took shifts spending the night and checking on him during the day like Toby or Elliot couldn’t manage. She liked the distraction of having them there, watching her dad play with her daughters like she remembered him playing with her. Their presence was suffocating with the reminder that a baby once died on their watch and they desperately didn’t want it to happen again.
Their visits dropped down and dwindled once he hit the safe mark of three-months-old. They were still around, still required Elliot to come over once a week for dinner, and all round offered to help whenever she needed it. She knew they wouldn’t rest, no matter how old Louis got. There was always going to be a threat on his young life because the cosmos hated them.
‘He’s beautiful, Ellie.’ Charlie offered. ‘He’s gonna be fine.’ She lent back against the porch railing, forearms braced. ‘All your babies are perfectly safe.’ She grinned, foot kicking her bag. There was no doubt that her sister had great kids, funny, kind, smart and loving. Charlie was itching to head inside and see them but Max kept her outside with Elliot.
The front door creaked the same familiar sound their father refused to oil. It was homely, remained as a reminder for their daughters sneaking out. ‘Charlie?’ Their mother’s voice was one of those sounds ingrained into their thoughts, never to be forgotten and distinctly something both girls felt they owned. Heads turned, wide eyes looking at their mother with a silent promise that they weren’t fighting. ‘I didn’t know you were coming home.’ Claire breathed, pulling the front door behind her as she moved for her eldest.
Charlie tried to hide her cigarette just short of dropping it when Claire plucked it from her hands without a word dropping it immediately to the porch and stepping on it. She hugged her daughter with a tight grip, squeezing Charlie’s arms before she stepped back to take her in.
‘Thought a visit was overdue.’ She shrugged, playing nonchalantly despite the warmth that filled her at the sight of her mother. Claire, so far as her daughters were concerned, was never changing. Her hairdresser kept most of the greys out of her red hair and her smile remained genuine in their direction. It had almost become disgusting how close their parents still were, Charlie and Elliot convinced they would never stop cringing when they kissed. ‘Hadn’t met Louis yet … and, um, I can’t quite get a braid right.’ She shrugged, arms rising behind her head to prove her arms were clumsy. Charlie’s smile grew, proper, wide, Charlie's-happy-smile.
Claire rolled her eyes. ‘Just know the assembly line you’re about to start the second you walk in there.’
‘The girls are here?’ She asked, unsure if it was just Elliot and Louis or if her nieces actually were inside occupying their parents with pleas for food and games. Claire nodded. Charlie’s grin widened. She knew exactly what kind of hell her father would be in for. Owen would have chosen a different word.
‘You’re a child.’ Elliot told her, chuckling with a gentle smile, telling her sister that her words weren’t malicious.
‘Ew,’ Charlie turned back to Elliot, ‘You’re a grown up’. She poked out her tongue.
She kissed her mother’s cheek, not missing the way Claire still smelled of vanilla, soaking Charlie in memories of tearful hugs and joyful Eskimo kisses. She moved inside like she was coming home from school, reclaiming the space that had missed her in a six hour period, or the weeks she would spend away at college, rolling into months between visits.
‘Aunt Charlie!’ Two little voices screeched, jumping up from the very place on the carpet she had played as a kid. They barrelled into her legs, five-year-old Nora with her Dearing green eyes and the dark hair they all denied knowing where it came from. It was Markus, through and through, but that name wasn’t to be uttered under any roof in relation to Nora, Elliot or Toby. Grace followed her sister, two-years-old with trademark Elliot blonde hair curling on her head as she looked at Charlie with curious brown eyes. She had no doubt the littlest girl didn’t remember her but was following her sister’s excitement for the thrill of it.
Instead of scooping them into her arms, she dropped into a crouch, letting Nora throw her arms around her neck while Grace touched tentative fingers to Charlie’s knee.
‘Hey Gracie, do you remember me?’ She asked, making sure to not touch without permission as Nora squeezed her fiercely, loudly exclaiming that her sister had to remember Aunt Charlie.
‘Charlie’s home!’ Owen boomed from around the corner, practically running into the room with a grin on his face wider than the rising sun. Grace moved for her grandfather, instantly hiding behind his legs as he bent in half, twisting his torso to pick her up. ‘It’s just Char —‘ He promised Grace, bouncing the girl on his hip. ‘— back from her Jane Goodall endeavours.’
‘Back?’ Claire scoffed behind Charlie, Louis on her hip, greedily slobbering on the Mother’s Day necklace Charlie and Elliot picked out when they were little girls. ‘Pretty sure you encouraged her love of the jungle and there’s no way Charlie’s leaving that.’ The eldest winked at her mother, chuckling as she shrugged an apology in her father’s direction. He had been the one to beg her to come home for just a little. ‘She just needs you to braid her hair then she’s on the next flight out.’ Claire teased, squeezing Charlie’s shoulder as Owen deflated with a playful pout.
Nora, at her aunt’s hip, piped up, eyes wide at the mention of braids. Five sets of female eyes were on Owen, three of them hopeful while the others looked on in amusement. ‘What do you say, Grace? Do we braid their hair?’ Owen asked the toddler, jostling the girl as Charlie and Nora looked up at him with pleading eyes.
Grace reminded her aunt too much of Elliot as a girl, quiet and reserved but capable of great destruction. At least it was nice to see a blonde haired child cling to their father for support rather than heading straight for Claire’s skirts. They watched Grace’s face, eyes trying to will her to move as the girl pressed her fist to her mouth in contemplation. It felt like years before she gave a gentle nod.
Nora rushed to the couch, throwing her hands against Charlie’s shoulder to gain momentum before she jumped, letting the cushions bounce around her. ‘I get to go first, don’t I, granddad?’ She turned her grandmother’s eyes on their weak father as Charlie clambered across the room to plop herself in front of the couch.
Charlie tilted her head back until it met the couch cushion beside her niece’s hip. ‘If I tell you where Nan hides all the good chocolate, can I go first?’ Charlie tried to bargain as Claire and Elliot scolded from their place in the doorway and with Louis on the play mat.
‘I don’t hide chocolate.’ Claire tried to defend herself with a pout. It had been years since both girls lived under the same roof, the older woman needing to hide her stash or else hormonal teenagers would get into it.
Owen hummed, putting Grace on her feet as he watched the girl wobble for a second before he looked to his wife. ‘I don’t know, babe. What about that spot —’  She cut him off with a glare. Maybe she was, just a block or two because her gluttonous husband had to watch his weight and also managed to tear through her favourites as if two teenagers were still there to scavenge for sweet things.
Nora easily took the trade, grinning mischievously in her grandmother’s direction as Charlie pinkie promised to deliver the goods. Owen clicked his tongue as he stepped around them, squishing himself beside Nora on the couch and behind Charlie, still sitting on the floor. ‘You don’t happen to have a brush and hair-tie in your back pocket?’ He asked Charlie, hands heavy on her shoulders as Nora volunteered to go find one in her sleepover kit.
For Charlie, it had not felt like she was home until her father leant down and wrapped his arms around her, cheek pressed to her head as he squeezed tight. Charlie wrapped her arms around his refusing to let go. ‘Hey, Charlie Bear.’ Owen kissed her temple, his grey stubble scratching her cheek with all the memories of bed time kisses and late night movies on the couch. His stubble reminded Charlie of listening to her mother shriek with suppressed laughter as their father rubbed his five-o’clock shadow on her face, or the time that Elliot screamed blue murder because he shaved, young mind unable to recognise him.
‘Hey, Daddy Bear.’ She didn’t realise how childish she would feel until the words left her mouth, vulnerable eyes searching the faces in the room for judgement but none came.
‘I have all my girls back.’ Owen grinned past Charlie’s ear, smiling at his wife who was sitting on the floor opposite, playing with their grandson in her lap. She watched him with a quirk on her lips, like they were still new parents, marvelling at their young girls growing up.
Claire grinned, the same sparkle in her eye that was always present when Owen spoke about Charlie or Elliot. ‘You know, I’m surprised she’s in one piece.’ Claire commented and Charlie forced a smile. Her mother didn’t approve of the whole co-living with tigers, Jane Goodall to the big cats thing Charlie had going on. She supported her but didn’t like knowing her daughter was likely to be killed on a feline whim. Charlie didn’t have the energy to fight about it, every time she looked at her mother holding the baby she saw Max over and over, mixed with the depression her parents wore for months. Charlie leant back into her father’s embrace, head turned slightly.
‘He looks like Max.’ She whispered quietly only for Owen to hear as she waited for his face to fall. It didn’t. Owen nodded as a small smile twitched at his lips. He admitted for Charlie’s ears only that he liked that. She knew they would talk later, over a shared beer when Toby showed up for dinner and had the small family started to shuffle out the door. Her mother would head upstairs to have a shower or change her clothes and Charlie would be able to talk.
He let her go when Nora returned, whole toiletries bag in her hand and two apricots, one of which she dropped on Charlie’s lap. Her heart strings pulled, warm and cold as she realised the little girls in that room had no idea when or how these came about. Nora was obsessed with the fruit tree in the backyard, Claire’s garden her favourite place to be when the weather was nice and she had no idea it’s true story. She thanked her niece with a small smile, watching as the girl bit into the fruit while Charlie held her tongue.
Owen started wordlessly, pulling on familiar red hair as he manipulated it between his fingers. He had only started when he stopped, hands still holding her hair in strands as he watched Claire pick up the fussing baby, sick of his sister pulling on his limbs. ‘Give me, Louis.’ Owen offered, Charlie practically hearing her father’s smirk as her mother looked at him in confusion. He was busy. ‘Never too early for a boy to learn how to braid.’ Claire gave in, settling the boy in her husband’s lap as Owen twisted his arms to keep the boy upright whilst still managing to do Charlie’s hair. He had practised at this and even though he hadn’t done it in a while everyone in the room trusted him. ‘And who knows, maybe he’ll drool in Charlie’s hair.’ He chuckled, holding on tight as Charlie tried to yank herself away. His daughter, the girl who lived with tigers, was scared of getting baby drool in her hair and if that wasn’t nearly the best thing Owen had learned about her then he was at a loss.
The group laughed, giggles pulled from Nora as Grace echoed the sound, Elliot grinning at her sister and father in the same motherly expression their mother maintained for two decades. She avoided this like it would give her the plague, scared to come home and face the empty holes of her family but every time she returned, Charlie felt the love bloom from them, filling her with warmth and contentment. She would sleep soundly in a bed for the first time since her nephew was born seeing that he was happy and noisy and full of life, helping her father pull her hair or wiggling in her mother’s lap. She would hold him again later, after dinner when he was sleepy and try to make amends with Max’s memory.
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