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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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You’re Family Now

Rated G - CW: Past abuse referenced. Other than that, it's a fluff factory :) - Word Count: 2380

Remy and Emile stop by for a little wedding planning while Logan is babysitting for Roman and Janus. Logan and Emile get to learn just how much the have in common. This story takes place in between Chapters 14: Want and Chapter 15: Joy in What Might Have Been. Other related stories: Remy & Emile and Happily Ever After. Written for TSS AUgust Day 12: Family

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“Yes, Janus, I am absolutely certain… Mm-hm… Yes. Yes, Joy is perfectly content. And if she gets bored with me, Remy and Emile are coming over in a half an hour… Mm-hm, I remember, yes… Please… please enjoy your afternoon with Roman…” Logan swallowed back a chuckle at the anxiety in his ordinarily suave best friend’s voice. “Yes, yes, Joy is fine. Now go have fun… Yes, I am hanging up the phone now… yes… mm-hmm… yes…” Logan finally laughed, “Goodbye, Jan. See you at 7.”

Logan ended the call with one hand and looked down at Joy nestled in his other arm. “Your Papa is worried about you, little one.” Joy cooed around her fingers stuck in her mouth. Logan grinned, making the sign for yes and nodding, “Yes, that is exactly what I said! Do you think your Papa and Daddy will like a picture to show them you are safe?” Joy cooed again, swapping her fingers for her thumb. “That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me.”

Opening up his camera app, Logan snapped a few pictures of Joy and sent them off to Janus and Roman, along with a note, I am turning off my phone now, so do not call. Enjoy your date and we will see you at 7. “All right, then, I think we have Papa and Daddy sorted out. How about we have a little tummy time…”

---

A half an hour later, the front door opened and Remy stuck his head through, “Dad? We’re here…”

“Hello you two, come on in… we are in the living room.” Logan called from his spot on the carpet. Remy and Emile came in, kicking off their shoes and laughed.

"We?" Remy asked from the hall. "Oh, good, I was afraid Uncle Janus was going to back out at the last second again. The way they were going, Joy would be in college before they went out without her."

Laughing lightly, Emile called out as he entered, "Hello, Mr. Sanders!" He immediately dropped to the floor when he saw Joy. "Well look how big you've gotten…"

“I’m not sure who’s having more fun with that squish toy, Dad,” Remy chuckled, watching Logan and Joy laying on their stomachs on the floor, as his dad bounced a brightly colored toy in front of her, enticing her to lift her head and grab at it. Logan nudged it a little closer and she grasped it, pulling it toward her mouth.

“You got it!” Logan cheered, twisting to sit in front of Joy, making the ASL sign for applause. Noting the copious amount of drool dripping down her chin, he made the sign for eat, “Are you hungry, Joy? Do you want to eat?” Looking up at the boys, he added, "Are you you two hungry?" Emile shook his head.

"Oh, we're fine… we met Emile's parents for lunch after religious school got out," Remy answered, making faces at Joy.

Emile tilted his head, watching his soon-to-be father-in-law. “I'm curious, Mr. Sanders… Does Joy understand your signs? We use some ASL with the kids at Temple, but I didn’t know babies this young could learn it.”

“Infants and toddlers have a greater understanding of symbolic language than their oral control can support.” Logan stood, then picked up Joy, walking with vRemy and Emile to the kitchen to prepare her bottle. “By teaching them basic signs, they can engage additional learning pathways and, in my experience with the boys, at least, communicate simple ideas and needs long before they are able to form the words.”

Logan laughed, “I could almost literally go on about this all day. You two are not here for an impromptu lecture on early childhood development, though. Remy, would you get my computer from my room, please?” Remy nodded and sprinted up the stairs. “Emile, did you bring the checklist from TBT?”

“I’ve got it right here, Mr. Sanders!” He patted his shoulder bag then clapped his hands together, grinning, “Time for a planning party!”

---

Remy, Emile, and Logan, with Joy in his lap, were gathered around the coffee table in the living room. The table was covered with checklists, sample menus from three separate caterers, notepads, laptops, and the large planning binder Emile and Logan had started the weekend after Remy and Emile’s—unexpectedly joint—proposal.

The bespectacled pair had been working their way through Emile’s checklist for two and a half hours. Remy had long since tapped out. “You two lost me when you got into the foot traffic debate.” Emile blushed but grinned when Remy kissed his cheek. “How about I play with Joy while you two… do this,” he smiled, waving his hands over the library’s worth of material spread across the table.

Eventually, Joy had grown fussy and Logan took her back, resting her head on his right shoulder, rocking her back and forth while he made notes with his other hand. She was asleep within minutes. Remy shook his head, stretching out on the couch and watching his dad and his fiancee revel in their logistical planning element. “Dad skills, man. Dad skills…” his last word dissolved in a yawn.

Logan caught Emile’s eye and they both fought back knowing laughter, each sufficiently familiar with Remy to know that he was not far behind Joy in joining the land of the dreaming. After a few more minutes, Remy’s breathing had slowed to a steady, quiet rhythm, his face relaxing into a blissful cherubic expression. He shivered in his sleep and Logan started to rise to find a blanket.

Emile waved him off, “Please let me, Mr. Sanders.” He followed Logan’s gaze and pointed to a door near the hallway. “Blankets are in there?”

Logan nodded, tilting his head. “You are quite observant, Emile.”

Emile was back in a moment with a plush knit blanket. Logan watched Emile’s face as he opened it up and covered Remy, taking extra care not to wake him. The softness in Emile’s expression as he tugged at one corner of the blanket, making sure Remy was completely covered and comfortable, spread a warm fuzziness through Logan’s chest.

Emile looked up, grinning at Logan and whispering, “They’re both so cute when they sleep.”

Logan looked down at Roman and Janus’ sleeping child in his arms and rubbed her back. He leaned in closer, sniffing the sweet baby smell of her wispy hair. He smiled, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “It… It has been a long time since the boys were this small…” He chuckled, looking at Remy, noting his adult son’s five o’clock shadow. “Boys,” he repeated, shaking his head.

It hadn’t escaped Logan’s notice that holding Joy felt so very different from holding his own sons when they were this age. He harbored no doubt that he loved this little girl, blood or not. If nothing else, his extended family was walking, talking, loving proof of the—correct—adage that the blood of the covenant is thicker than the waters of the womb. He’d lay down his life for this child, just as he would for his own.

But he couldn’t simply ignore the lack of tension he’d felt that he had always associated with the boys when they were infants. At the time, he had thought it was his own natural reaction to being charged with the care of such a tiny, vulnerable little being. But now, holding Joy, that anxious undercurrent was gone and all he felt was bliss.

Logan' heart jumped into his throat when he realized why.

When his sons were babies, Logan had always been a little bit... afraid. Even when Remy was just an infant, Logan had already learned by experience how important it was for the peace of the household to steer clear of her moods. It had kept him cautious and guarded in his words and behavior, and drove him to take Remy on long outings to the park or the Seattle U campus whenever possible, just to get out of the house. By the time Patton was born… Logan shook his head slightly, halting his spiraling thoughts.

Emile noticed the change in Logan’s face from across the room.

“Mr. Sanders?” He stepped closer to where his soon-to-be father-in-law sat. “Are you alright?”

Logan reached up with one hand, touching his cheek. His fingers came away wet with tears. He fished in his pocket for a tissue and hastily wiped his face dry. “Yes, yes, of course, Emile,” he shook his head, schooling his face into a more careful mask. “Yes, and please… I apologize.”

Emile touched his hand, “It’s okay, Mr. Sanders, I was just worried about you.”

“I am fine, truly.” Emile peered at Logan for another few moments before nodding. Logan tucked Joy closer to his shoulder and re-centered his attention on the notepad in front of him.

After he’d composed himself, Logan grasped for a new topic. His eye caught on the engagement ring on Emile's hand. “There is something I have wanted to say to you, Emile.” Emile knelt next to the coffee table, putting down the highlighter he’d been using, giving Logan his full attention. His shoulders relaxed a bit when Logan smiled at him.

“I am inexpressibly happy for both of you. It brings me a great deal of joy that Remy has you in his life. It would embarrass him to hear me say this, but…” Logan glanced quickly at his son, checking to be certain that he was still asleep. “I know that he loves you very much and…” Logan sighed, wincing a bit at his awkward phrasing. “Knowing that you two are about to be married… it makes me… hopeful." He shook his head lightly, marveling at the shy young man in front of him. "Remy is so very lucky to have you. You make him happy.”

Emile grinned, “I feel like I’m the lucky one, Mr. Sanders. Meeting Remy was… life-changing .” Emile looked at Remy as he spoke. “If I’d never met him or... Or if Remy hadn’t been so completely and perfectly… Remy…” His smile fell as he considered, for just a moment, what his life would be like now without Remy. He swallowed hard against the growing lump in his throat.

He looked at Logan for a moment before staring back at his hands, picking up the highlighter and twisting it between his fingers, “I… don’t know if Remy’s told you much, but… I was… I was engaged before Remy and I started dating.”

Logan saw an all-too-familiar haunted look in Emile’s eyes as they flashed over to meet his gaze before returning his attention to the highlighter in his hands.

“He would... Well, he was, um…” Emile bit at his lip, voice trailing off.

“He was abusive?” Logan asked quietly.

Emile’s eyes widened, and he stared down at his hands, twisting the cap on the highlighter. Emile nodded once, then quickly added, “Maybe abusive is too strong a word… he wasn’t…” Emile shook his head and licked his lips, breath caught in his throat, “He never actually hit me… he just…” he sighed, words failing him.

Carefully shifting Joy to his right arm, Logan leaned toward Emile and held out his left hand, palm up. His scar, while nearly decades old, was shiny and unmistakable close up. Emile froze, staring at Logan’s palm. “They very rarely do in the beginning.”

Emile suddenly remembered the first time Remy had talked about his parents. ‘My dad just... well... he got stuck in a bad... situation.’

Logan continued, “Emile, you were brave and lucky to have left when you did.”

Emile’s eyes started to fill with tears and when he looked up at Logan’s face, he saw he wasn’t alone. “Mr. Sanders… would it… would it be okay if I… I hugged you?”

Logan smiled, holding out his left arm in invitation, Joy still cradled against his chest and supported by his right. Emile sat next to Logan, wrapping his arms around him. Logan squeezed with his left arm.

Emile and Logan sat quietly together, long after both of their tears dried, just watching Remy and Joy sleeping. They didn’t speak, they didn’t plan, they simply basked in the serenity and contentment that fell down over them. It was a peace that they’d both been seeking for a long, long time.

Eventually, Joy started to wake. Logan gave Emile another squeeze and recovered his arm. “She likely needs changing… that’s a diaper cry.”

Emile grinned, “How can you tell?”

Logan shrugged, rising from the couch, “You just start to hear it.” Emile followed Logan to the other room. “Oh,” Logan craned his neck toward the living room, “Would you bring—” Emile held up Joy’s diaper bag. “Perfect. Thank you, Emile.”

Logan began to change her diaper, narrating for her what he was doing and using the signs for diaper, cold, wet, and dry, as he went.

“Um, Mr. Sanders…?”

“Mm-hm?,” Logan hummed, holding a clean diaper under his chin as he wrangled a very squirmy Joy.

“I know you’d prefer that I call you Logan, but, um…”

Gently shaking his head, Logan corrected him, “I would prefer that you call me whatever makes you feel most comfortable, Emile.” He smiled while he strapped the velcro tabs on the fresh diaper cover. “I simply do not want you to feel obligated to call me something formal.” He started snapping Joy’s sleeper closed. “You are part of the family now.”

Emile handed Logan a disinfecting wipe for his hands, fiddling with the lid on the dispenser. “Well, I was wondering… would it be alright with you if I called you… ‘Dad?’” Logan turned to face him, rocking Joy against his shoulder. Emile stammered, “I—I call my own father Abba, so it’s not like you're taking anything from him or…”

Logan smiled and whispered in a rough voice, “That would be perfectly acceptable to me, Emile.”

Emile nodded, calmed by Logan’s sanguine reaction.

“Here, would you like to hold her?” Logan asked, shifting his grip on Joy.

Emile grinned, “Oh, yes, please!” Reaching carefully, Emile cradled Joy’s head, wrapping her in a football hold and swinging her gently, laughing when she cooed in response. “Well, hello there, little one… Pretty sweet family we both lucked into, huh?”

---

@tsshipmonth2020 (a little late for day 12...)

taglist: @mavenmush @demon9980 @crossiantgay @psychedelicships @justmeandmygayships @ts-creator-boost (why not)

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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Remy & Emile, Chapter 7: Take My Hand

Word Count: 2196, Human AU, pre- and during Chapter 1 of Happily Ever After [ AO3 ] CW / Content Warning: Emotional manipulation, implied threats, property damage. There is a reproduction of the flyer from the previous chapter at the end of this chapter. May Flowers Event Day 17 Prompt: Irises for courage ---

When Emile returned to their room, Max was in the middle of packing. “Hello, Darling, come on in, just watch for those boxes.” Emile edged his way around a stack of flattened boxes poking out from behind the door. Max was standing in front of his closet, Emile’s duffel bag on the desk chair behind him. Emile looked around the room, putting his hands in his pockets to hide his fidgeting.

“Hi, Honey … I thought we were planning to stay until the end of the quarter.” He smiled at Max when he looked up from folding a pair of Emile’s slacks, adding them to the stack in front of him.

“Well, sure … I’m just packing away some of the extra things we don’t really use or have extras of in the meantime. The quarters run a little differently between our old school and Eastern.” Emile tried to hide his wince at the way Max described Western as their ‘old’ school. He was still optimistic that he could convince Max to allow him to stay at Western for two more years. “I’m taking summer quarter courses to make up for what I couldn’t get here, so we'll have just two days after this quarter ends to move out and get settled before my classes start at Eastern.

Emile nodded and gripped the strap of his book bag. He watched the frenetic way Max was folding one item of clothing after another. Max was too activated to have this conversation right now. Emile decided to try to broach the subject again after dinner. That was usually a calmer time, anyway. Maybe then he could go back through the what Max had packed and retrieve the clothing he would need for the last two weeks of class.

“If ... you do not mind too much, Honey,” Emile stepped a little closer to him, resting a hand on Max's forearm as he pushed down on the stacks of clothing in the open bag. “I have an assignment due tonight that I need to work on. I could go complete it at the library and then come back and help you after dinner.“

Max narrowed his eyes at Emile, “You should do your assignment here. Then we don’t have to worry about where to meet up later for dinner.”

"Of course, Honey." Emile nodded again, “Would it be alright to -,” he touched backrest of his desk chair, currently buried under the bag and several jackets and sweaters draped across it.

“Yeah, sure,” Max muttered without looking up. “Why don’t you get settled and I’ll move all this so you can sit.”

“Thank you, Honey.” Emile turned to face his desk and opened his bag to take out his notebooks and laptop. As he pulled out the laptop, the folded leaflet from Project DVORA fluttered out and landed on the floor near Max’s feet. Emile’s eyes widened and he bent quickly to retrieve it. Max was faster.

“Oh, you dropped this, Darling. Pretty paper,” he murmured, opening the sheet and beginning to read.

Emile stood frozen in place. It felt like time was slowing down as he watched Max’s eyebrows slowly tighten, mouth drawing down into a scowl. He could see the muscles in Max’s jaw start to work as he ground his teeth, reading the entire leaflet.

Max got to the end, turning it over in his hands. He clenched his teeth and finally looked at Emile.

“Emile …,” Max’s voice was low and calm, almost whispering. Emile stood very still. He knew how to handle Max’s anger, and his tears, and his despondency. This was something different. Max held the leaflet up so he could see. “What the fuck is this, Emile?”

Emile pressed a smile onto his face and tried to force his muscles to relax. He lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Just a flyer a classmate picked up.” He licked his lips, clenching his toes in his shoes as his only outlet for the churning he felt in his stomach. “They saw the Hebrew and asked me about it.” His eyes darted around the room. He’d been fuzzy with the truth around Max before, but this was the biggest lie he’d ever told him.

Max raised an eyebrow. “ 'They' ?”

Damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn damn. He knows I’m lying.

“He," Max whispered.

Emile watched as Max’s eyes darkened. He looked at the leaflet again before balling it up and throwing it on the floor. “He, who, Emile?” Max stepped closer. “That little high schooler who’s been following you around? What’s his name? Renee?” Emile was silent, head bowed. “Huh?”

Emile just nodded. It was pointless to correct Max when he was this angry. He would apologize later and they could talk it out.

Max crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I get it. I really do. I almost feel bad for him.” Emile risked a quick glance up to check Max’s expression. His mouth was curved slightly in an approximation of a smile and his eyebrows were gently raised. The sharpness in his eyes, however, remained. “But, Darling,” Max reached for Emile’s left hand, stroking his palm and running his thumb over the ring on his finger. “Why would you let him try to poison what we have? He could never love you the way I do. No-one else could love you the way I do.” Max stepped closer, holding Emile’s hand in both of his, bending down to kiss his fingers. He tilted his head up, looking closely at Emile.

“Unless … unless, of course, you think you’d actually be better off without me." Emile stared back at Max, trying to keep eye contact and blinking rapidly. "Unless that's the real reason why you wanted to go do your homework at the library? So you could meet up with your little friend?” Max tightened his grip on Emile’s hand, pressing it against his own his chest. He narrowed his eyes, “No … no you’re not like that, right, Darling?” Emile shook his head rapidly, trying to smile but ending up with a just a trembling mouth. “That’s what I thought.” Max grinned, untangling one of his hands to stroke Emile's cheek.

Emile couldn’t control the tiny frightened twitch in his face when Max's hand touched him.

Max frowned at first, but then chuckled, keeping his hold on Emile's hands and snaking his other arm around his waist like an embrace. “You see, that’s the funny thing about people, Darling.” He shook his head and tsked lightly. “We’re all just a mess of chemicals and nerves underneath it all. No matter what you say, no matter what you promise, when you're lying to me, you will always have a tell. You just can’t help it.” He let go of Emile's hands and reached behind him, picking up his laptop from the desk. “And because you can’t help it, I’ll always be here to help you and to keep any temptations away.”

He met Emile’s eyes. “Where’s your phone, Darling?” Emile’s eyes flicked down to his hip before he could stop himself. Still holding the laptop, Max released Emile and shoved his hand into Emile’s pocket, grabbing his phone. He bent his head down and kissed Emile’s cheek, then turned and flung his computer and phone against the cinder block dorm room wall. Emile flinched, covering his head and face as shards of plastic and glass scattered around the room.

Max maintained his icy calm voice. “You will use my computer for your final assignments and I’ll go buy you a new phone. You'll have a new phone number that you will not share with anyone unless I say so.” He looked around at the debris littering the floor and the spare bed. “You should clean this up while I’m gone. Those broken bits could be dangerous.” Max lifted Emile's chin, kissing him on the mouth, then he turned and left, locking the door behind him.

Emile’s legs gave out and he sank down to the floor, shaking. He sat there stunned, for a minute or for ten, Emile wasn't sure. He could barely breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut, counting out his breaths like he used to teach his friends in high school. Gradually, he was able to slow his breathing enough to get all the way to eight on the exhale. He looked around the chaos of the room, at the empty boxes, and his half-packed bag, and the remains of his computer on the floor, thinking that the sparkling bits of glass could almost pass for glitter.

The shattered screen refracted the light streaming in from the window, drawing his eyes to the crumpled leaflet that lay just under the bed where Max had tossed it. Moving carefully to avoid the sharp bits on the floor, Emile crawled over and picked it up, smoothing it out on his lap. He traced the stylized irises printed in the corner of the page, and re-read the list, counting this time.

Twelve.

Twelve items out of a list of seventeen. You don't have to wait until he's hitting you before you decide to leave.

Finally, something broke loose in Emile and he started to sob. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand until he stopped. He carefully re-folded the flyer and put it in his pocket, then got to his feet. He started shoving his remaining clothes into his duffel bag. He grabbed his books from the shelf on his desk, and his shaving kit and toothbrush from the dresser. Max was a minimalist - to spite his own name - so Emile didn’t have a lot to pack. Most of his belongings were in storage at his parents' house.

Looking around the room for anything he might have missed, Emile pulled off his engagement ring and placed it on top of Max’s closed laptop on his desk. Then he picked up his book bag and duffel, and what was left of his shattered computer and phone, and opened the door. He poked his head out into the hallway, listening for the elevator or the heavy fire door at the staircase. No-one was around. Hands gripped tightly on his bags, he ran down to Remy’s door, knocking rapidly, praying he was inside.

Remy opened the door, eyes widening first when he saw Emile’s tears and then the bags in his hands. He opened the door completely, ushering Emile inside. “Em! Come in, come in.”

Emile rushed through the doorway and Remy closed and locked it behind him. Emile leaned against the closed door and cried.

…

Remy led Emile all the way inside his room, gently tapping his hands where he kept an iron grip on his bags. “It’s ok to put these down now, Emile.” He nodded and placed the bags in a corner of the room. Remy grabbed a box of tissues and pressed it into Emile’s hands. He gestured between a desk chair and his bed, “Where would you like to sit?” They were closer to the bed and Emile practically collapsed on it, hunching over himself, sobs wracking his body. Remy sat next to him, rubbing circles into his back. When his cries quieted, Remy asked, “Where is Max right now, Em?”

Emile shook his head, “I don’t really know. Off-campus, I think. Maybe downtown?” Emile pulled out his broken phone, “He went to go buy a new phone for me.”

Remy's brow furrowed and his jaw tightened. “Did he do this?” Emile nodded.

“My computer, too.”

“Emile,” Remy lowered his voice and spoke very carefully. “Did he … did he hurt you?”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Emile laughed, the sound brittle and high-pitched. “I am totally fine. I just left my boyfriend of four years. No, not my boyfriend, my fiancee …,” Emile crumpled, a fresh sob escaping his throat. He leaned into Remy, who wrapped his arms around him, shushing into his hair. “Oh, my God, what have I done?” He turned to Remy, eyes wild. “I don’t even have a place to live anymore. Max cancelled our room for next year and every dorm is wait listed ...”

“It’s going to be ok, Emile, I promise. My roommate and I are getting a suite next year.” Remy smiled, “We’ll sneak you in. And we'll figure out how to deal with the last two weeks of the quarter.” Emile leaned against Remy again, face drawn. Remy could see that his adrenaline was starting to wear off and he was likely going to crash soon. He paused, taking a deep breath, “Listen, Em, we need to take care of some things, then you can lie down and take a nap, ok?” Emile nodded against his chest. “We are going to need some help. When Max comes back and sees that you're gone …” Emile sat up, jaw trembling. “Let’s call the RA and let him know what’s going on. Then maybe … maybe campus security, if… if that’s ok with you?”

“Ok,” Emile whispered, breathing shallowly.

“And then, do you want to use my phone to call your parents?” He nodded. Emile didn’t talk about his family a lot, but they seemed to get a long well and Remy knew they would get together sometimes after his classes at TBT. And then, once Emile was asleep, Remy would call his uncle to find out what else they needed to do.

@tsshipmonth2020

#remy & emile #day 17 prompt: irises for courage #remy sanders #emile patshki #remile #remile needed their own story to get the air time they desserved #there is a big difference between mostly fluff and all fluff #mostly fluff is slightly angsty #mayflowersevent

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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In case you've missed our dear Happily universe as much as I have, here's a little out-of-context bit from an upcoming (and over-due) short one-shot for AUgust's Family prompt called, You're Family Now:

Opening up his camera app, Logan snapped a few pictures of Joy and sent them off to Janus and Roman, along with a note, 'I am turning off my phone now, so do not call. Enjoy your date and we will see you at 7.'

#You're Family Now #Happily Ever After universe #post-Happily Ever After #in-between chapters 14 and 15 in What Might Have Been #Joy Remi Prince #Logan Sanders #Remy Sanders #Emile Patshki #Roman and Janus are off on a date‚ let them be‚ being a new parent is hard #Remile #background roceit #very very very background nascent intrulogical

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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Out-of-context text analysis for What Might Have Been: Chapter 15 (the last chapter!)

There is an actual spoiler that I had to blur ... it’s a truly fluffy spoiler!

Some of the other top phrases look a little questionable, so I will tackle those in the next round of edits.

#what might have been #remus prince #logan sanders #roman prince #janus prince née pater #remy sanders #emile patshki #intrulogical #roceit #remile #remile's going to need their own fic #shhh... Remus pls not yet #virgil sanders #patton sanders #post-happily ever after #real life is just not a fairy tale #but that doesn't mean you can't get a happily ever after after all

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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💔🎬🤨😊 (for the WIP ask game, if you’d like to share - but no pressure! ☺️)

💔 - heartbreaking line - from CBGB

Most of the truly heartbreaking lines are just kind of meh out of context. This one hints a bit at some of what's behind the curtain, though:

“If you know … if you weren’t in love with this man,” Patton finally admitted.

🎬 - last line I've written - also CBGB

"Sure thing, Kid."

🤨 - line that makes no sense out of context - from Do Us Any Harm

“None of this can actually be real.”

😊 - share a happy line - because I'm evil, I'm not saying WIP this line is from :)

“Well, I was wondering … would it be alright with you if I called you ‘Dad’?”

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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The Night Before

Word Count: 100, Human AU, post-Happily Ever After, during What Might Have Been - [ AO3 ] ---

“Couldn’t sleep, either?,” Remy murmured quietly as he saw Emile standing in front of the open refrigerator, holding his boutonniere for tomorrow’s ceremony.

“The baby’s breath isn’t too much against the red gladiolus, is it? I’m not so sure …,” Emile’s voice trailed off, bottom lip painfully caught between his teeth.

Remy grasped Emile’s hand, replacing the flowers and closing the refrigerator. “Babe, look at me.” Emile stared at the floor.

Remy cupped Emile’s cheek, tilting up his face, capturing his lips and pouring his love into their kiss.

“Babe, it will be perfect,” he whispered against Emile’s lips. “Just perfect.”

@tsshipmonth2020

#mayflowersevent #remy sanders #emile patshki #remile #remile is going to need their own fic to get the time their story deserves #remile is going to get their own fic to get the time their story deserves #post-happily ever after #during what might have been #day 8: baby's breath for affection #white for reverence

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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Oh, Remus! I have a sweet, fluffy idea for the next ten May Flowers events ... And it will be all about Remile 💕🖤! I'll show how they met and fell in love, and it will be this sweet, fluffy College AU with little ties to Happily Ever After and What Might Have Been ...

So you'll get to dive in to how Emile and Logan are kinda similar, huh?

Yes, exactly! I hinted at it in Happily and WMHB, but Remile really didn't get a lot of "airtime".

Oh, so you're going to give Remy the chance to save Emile from his father's fate, thereby, through transference, satisfying his deepest desire to save Logan the way he couldn't as a child?

What?! No! I mean, no, of course that wouldn't ...

/ head hanging, heavy sigh /

Ok, tell me more ...

I thought you'd never ask ...

But can we at least make it mostly fluffy?

Sure, whatever ...

Just remember what Miracle Max said ...

There's a big difference between mostly fluffy and all fluffy. Mostly fluffy is slightly angst-ridden. With all fluffy, well, with all fluffy there's usually only one thing you can do ...

Go make Roman your muse!

I'm pretty sure that's not the quote from The Princess Bride, Remus.

#talking with my muse #remile is going to need their own fic to get the time their story deserves #remile is getting their own fic #i swear to logic i won't let remus make this too angsty #remy sanders #emile patshki #Drs. Sanders-Patshki #spoilers #out of context spoiler #if i kin logan why is remus my muse?#cw flashing #tw flashing

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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Remy & Emile, Chapter 2: Sin

Prev - Sin - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Word Count: 1106, Human AU, pre- and during Chapter 1 of Happily Ever After [ AO3 ] May Flowers Event Day 12: Birds of Paradise for freedom.

CW/Content Warning: toxic relationship dynamics

HaMorah means the teacher in Hebrew and is commonly used as an honorific like Mr./Ms/Mx for teachers at Jewish day schools or Sunday schools. ---

Emile carefully closed the dorm room door behind him, locking it and putting his keys back in his pocket. His boyfriend, Max, was sitting at his desk, reading a book on Jungian analysis. He didn't look up when Emile entered.

“Hi, Honey, how has your day been going?,” Emile smiled gently in his direction, waiting for Max to look up from the textbook.

“Fine.”

Emile swallowed but kept his smile. “Hmm ... it sounds like maybe you had a rough day if it's only been fine,” Emile retrieved his water bottle from his bag and dribbled some into the soil of the flowering plant on his desk, watching Max out of the corner of his eye. “Would you like to talk about it?,” he asked, tightening the cap on the water bottle and returning it to its pocket. Max shrugged, attention fixed on the book in front of him.

“I understand, Honey.” Emile's hand twitched as he considered rubbing Max's back but he refrained when he noticed the tightness in the other's jaw and how his fingertips paled where he gripped his book. “If you need anything, I'll be right here.” Emile waited a moment for a response that never came. He nodded to himself and quietly put his books down on his desk, pulling out his chair and preparing to study. The new essay Professor Howard had assigned that day weighed on him and the sooner he started it, the better he would feel.

After about twenty minutes of outlining and preparing a list of sources to investigate for his paper, Emile heard Max sigh from his desk. Emile sat straight in his chair and swiveled to face him. “Do you need something, Honey?”

Max turned in his chair to face Emile. “I saw on the calendar that you’re still teaching at your church this Sunday.” Emile blinked away a grimace at the way he called Temple B'nai Torah 'church'. It doesn’t actually matter what Max calls it though, does it? “Sunday is my birthday. I thought you would want to spend the day with me."

Emile nodded, smiling. “Yes, and I am looking forward to spending the whole afternoon and evening with you so we can celebrate.” He tilted his head, trying to meet Max’s eyes. “Remember? I told you about my class when we started making your birthday plans a month or so ago." He shook his head. "I can’t just bail on them.” Max wouldn’t look at him. Emile bit at his lower lip, eyebrows knitting together. “We don’t have enough staff to have substitutes.”

Max turned back to his desk, shoulders hunched. "When you do this, it makes me think you don't love me enough to ever put me first.” Emile swallowed and got out of his chair, closing the distance between them. He stood behind Max and gently placed his hands on his shoulders. When Max didn’t shake him off or move away, Emile started to knead the tightness out of his muscles.

"As much as I would like to, I can't always put fun with you before my responsibilities." Emile carefully began, wincing when he felt Max's muscles tighten at his words. He worked out the new tension before continuing. "I made a commitment to TBT to teach this year. I can't just - "

Max sighed heavily. “Fine, fine, fine. It’s fine." Max turned, pulling Emile onto his lap and burying his face in the shorter man's chest. "It's fine, Darling. You’ll be home by 1:30, though? Right?”

Emile smiled again, stroking Max's hair. “Yes, of course, Honey.”

…

Sunday morning dawned clear and bright. Emile let his religious school class have a little extra time playing on the temple’s playground at break time. It had been a long winter and the recent mild days were a taste of the warmer weather soon to come. Emile pushed some of the smaller children on the swings, laughing when they squealed, begging to go higher. He joined the children in a game of tag that soon grew so chaotic that no-one knew who was 'It' anymore and they all simply ran around, chasing and trying to tag the person nearest to them. Sooner than either Emile or the students were ready, though, it was time to go back to the classroom and resume their lessons for the morning. As the students filed back inside, one of the little girls he'd helped with the swings handed him a flower crown. Emile grinned and wrote לפרוח, the Hebrew word for 'flower', on the board, wearing the crown for the rest of their lesson.

When class was over, Emile stood outside the temple with his students, supervising parent pick-up. By 11:45, all but one student’s parents had arrived. After a few more minutes of waiting, Emile knelt down to get to his student’s eye level. “Noa, do you know your dad's phone number?” Noa shook her head, tears starting to form in her eyes. “Oh, Noa, sweetie, it’s ok. Let’s go to the office and get HaMorah Deb to look up his phone number, ok?” Noa nodded and took Emile’s hand when he stood.

They had just reached the doors when Noa’s father came running up, “I’m here, I’m here!” Noa grinned, dropping Emile’s hand and running to her father. “I’m sorry I’m late, pumpkin!” He looked to Emile, “I’m sorry, HaMorah Emile.”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it, Joe. You got here just in time.” Addressing Noa, Emile added, “See you next week?”

She nodded solemnly, “Yes, HaMorah.”

Emile checked his watch and his face tightened. He had just over an hour and a half an hour to get back up to Bellingham and his dorm room. He waved to Joe and Noa and sprinted to his car, “Have a good week!”

…

At 1:33, Emile dashed into the dorm room, cheeks flushed and panting. There was an event at the Performing Arts Center next to their dorm hall and he’d had to park in the overflow lot on the other side of campus. Max stood, smiling brightly at Emile. “Ready to go?”

Emile grinned, “Yes, of course, let just water my flowers first -“ his voice died when he turned and saw that the stem of the Birds of Paradise plant his parents had given him for his birthday was broken, bright blue and yellow petals ripped and scattered on the floor. Emile turned to Max, gesturing to the plant, mouth opening to ask what had happened.

Max stood near the door, smile broadening and a glint in his eyes as they met Emile's. “It’s after 1:30, isn’t it?” He reached for Emile’s hand. “We’re going to have to hurry, Darling, if we want to make it to the movie on time.”

---

It might be obvious from the quality of his character, but if Emile was real, he would be spending a lot of time on this website right about now: https://decolonizepalestine.com/

@tsshipmonth2020

#remy & emile #emile patshki #remile #remile needed their own story to get the air time they desserved #there is a big difference between mostly fluff and all fluff #mostly fluff is slightly angsty #mayflowersevent

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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Out-of-context spoiler for the final chapter of Remy & Emile:

“Don’t they understand that these things take time? Why won’t they just wait until the environment can catch up?” Remy’s voice was tight. “They can’t just turn a dial and expect to undo years of damage. They need to give it time to heal.”

#remy & emile #remy sanders #emile patshki #remile #remile needed their own story to get the air time they desserved #out-of-context spoiler #there is a big difference between mostly fluff and all fluff #mostly fluff is slightly angsty

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

Text

Out-of-context text analysis spoiler for the penultimate chapter of Remy & Emile.

And then there are days when the text analysis seems pretty spot-on.

#remy & emile #remy sanders #emile patshki #remile #remile needed their own story to get the air time they desserved #<- you make *one* mistake #out-of-context text analysis spoiler #there is a big difference between mostly fluff and all fluff #mostly fluff is slightly angsty #hey at least cried or tears didn't break the top five ...

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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Remy & Emile, Chapter 4: Darling

Word Count: 1215, Human AU, pre- and during Chapter 1 of Happily Ever After [ AO3 ]

May Flowers Event Day 14 Prompt: Daisies for innocence

Emile chewed at the end of his pen, head tilted to the side, staring down at the blank page in front of him. The new religious school director had added two more weeks to next year’s school calendar and Emile needed to develop additional lesson plans for his third graders. He retrieved his laptop from his bag, pulling up the current curriculum, looking for gaps or shorter lessons that he could flesh out into broader, multi-session topics.

Reviewing the ten months of the new calendar, he realized that the expansion meant that they were guaranteed to meet during his favorite holiday, Tu B'shevat, 'Jewish Arbor Day.' Emile grinned as an idea brewed in his head. Sketching out the months, he pulled out the standalone Earth Day activity from April's plans. If he expanded it with more information about sustainable farming and a survey of the trees around the temple, he could craft at least one additional lesson and possibly two. Head down, Emile started writing, mapping out the new lessons.

Emile was so caught up in his work that he barely registered the noise at the door until Max rose from their bed and opened it.

“Oh, hello there. I’m Remy … I was looking for Emile. Do I have the right room?”

Emile stood at the sound of Remy's voice at the door, knocking over his chair. Max watched with narrowed eyes as Emile picked it up and joined him. Max stood with one arm resting on the door frame, the other holding the door open. Emile had to peer over Max’s arm to see Remy’s face.

“Hi, Emile. I - I hope I’m not disturbing you. I …,” he swallowed, eyes darting between Max and Emile. “I realized last week that we actually live on the same floor." A higher-pitched than normal chuckle escaped his lips. "I happened to see you go in your room the other day." Remy chewed his lip for a moment. "I hadn't really noticed until -" he gestured at his own hair, "- you know ... the pink. Your hair hasn't always been that color, has it?”

Emile blushed and shook his head, hand reaching up to cover the bright locks. “No, I dyed it just a couple of weeks ago … um, right before we met, actually.” Emile’s eyes widened, “Oh, I’m forgetting my manners. Remy, this is Max, my boyfriend. Max, this is Remy. We take Paleoecology together.”

Max grinned broadly, reaching for Remy’s hand and pumping it up and down in a vigorous handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, Remy. You must be one of the Running Start high school kids.”

Remy cleared his throat, “No, not anymore at least. Officially I'm a Junior, but this is my first year at Western.” He pointed down the hallway, “I live at the end, the door with the 'Equal Rights Aren't Like Pie' stickers.”

Max nodded, peering down at Remy. “Well, you must be older than you look. I interrupted you, though, didn't I?” He draped his arm over Emile’s shoulders, drawing him close to his body. “You were saying about my little Emile’s hair?”

“Um, just that it made you more noticeable, Emile.” Remy shrugged, giving a little smile to his friend and avoiding looking back at Max’s face. Remy shoved his hands in his pockets. “I suddenly started seeing you everywhere,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Recency bias,” Max intoned.

Remy’s eyes shot over to the taller man. He raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Emile. Emile spoke first. “The Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon?,” he asked him.

“Sure, Darling,” he muttered, still staring at Remy with a smile. “It’s when you first learn about something and it makes an impression, so you start noticing it everywhere.” He looked down at Emile. “I told you the pink hair would be attention-getting.”

Emile stared at the floor, noting how Remy’s feet were slowly inching away from their door.

“Well, I should be going - Oh, right! I nearly forgot why I knocked.” Remy presented the book he was holding to Emile. “I came to return this.”

Emile looked up, mouth drawn down into a small frown. “Oh ... you don’t have to return it yet, I’ve already read it.” He nodded quickly, “You can finish it.”

Remy shrugged, “I did. I … stayed up last night reading.” He huffed out a small laugh. “I just couldn’t put it down.” He thumbed through the pages, revealing sticky notes scattered throughout the text. “I mean, ‘Trees are the earth’s endless effort to speak to the listening heaven’ ?! And the rights in the forest? 'You have the right to be present'!

"Oh, and the part with the protest?," Emile leaned closer, grinning and tapping at the book as Remy flipped through the pages. "What did you think about the police video? Or the part about how the original message of the Giving Tree backfired, making us expect trees - and people - to just give and give until - "

Max cleared his throat and tightened his grip on Emile's shoulders.

Remy's brow furrowed as his gaze lingered where Max's fingers were pressed against Emile's upper arm. "The book was quite good. I really appreciate you letting me borrow it, Emile.”

Emile's eyes remained focused on the book in Remy's hands, “I am glad you enjoyed it, Remy. I thought you might like the way it weaves emotion into the ecology." He cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "The Overstory really should be required reading in the environmental science program.”

Remy opened his mouth to respond but a shift in Max’s posture drew his attention and silenced his next thought. “Well, here,” Remy pressed the book back into his hands. Emile felt Max’s grip tighten once more around his shoulders. “Thanks again. I’d - “ Remy’s eyes darted back to Max. “- I should go. It was nice to meet you, Max.” He looked at Emile again, “See you in class tomorrow?”

Emile nodded as Max closed the door, murmuring, "See ya."

“Nice kid,” Max muttered darkly. “Maybe he’ll flirt less now that he knows you have a boyfriend.”

Emile shook his head, stroking Max’s shoulder, “Remy’s not flirting. He’s just friendly. And really smart. I get the impression he has trouble finding people to talk to about his ideas.”

“You always want to see the best in people, Emile, even when the truth is standing right in front you.” Max shook his head slowly, putting both arms around Emile’s shoulders. “I think maybe you don’t realize how few people are actually interested in friendship. Most are usually only trying to get you into bed.” Emile opened his mouth for a moment, retort at the ready, Remy’s not like that, but the ice in Max’s expression killed the words on his lips.

Emile returned Max’s embrace, still gripping the book tightly, before putting it back into his bag and returning to his lesson plans.

“Darling,” Max’s voice was low. Emile craned his neck to face him, smile ready. “Your little friend did actually prove my earlier point." Max raised his eyebrows at Emile. "I told you that you shouldn’t have dyed your hair pink. It just attracts the wrong kind of attention.” Max stood behind Emile's chair, stroking his shoulders and running fingers through his hair. “When you’re done with that, let’s go to Rudy’s and get your hair back to its real color, ok, Darling?”

@tsshipmonth2020

#mayflowersevent #day 14: daisies for innocense #remy sanders #emile patshki #remile #remile needed their own story to get the air time they desserved #there is a big difference between mostly fluff and all fluff #mostly fluff is slightly angsty

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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Remy & Emile, Chapter 3: Fools Rush In

Word Count: 1140, Human AU, pre- and during Chapter 1 of Happily Ever After [ AO3 ]

May Flowers Event day 13 prompt: Safflower for good luck

---

The day of his Paleoecology presentation, Remy planned his schedule carefully, allowing himself an extra hour in the lecture hall to prepare for that afternoon’s class. As soon as he opened the door, though, he realized he would need a new plan.

Emile was sitting in his usual seat in the front row. Remy's first thought was that they would need to negotiate for time to practice their presentations, but just before he called out his name, Remy realized the pink-haired man was crying.

Remy froze for a moment, torn between the competing desires to rush down and comfort Emile, finding out what he could do to help, and giving Emile privacy. Finally, fate - or, rather, the faulty pneumatic door hinge - decided for him, as a loud clicking from the mechanism captured Emile’s attention. He whipped his head around and up to the doors at the top level of the lecture hall.

Seeing Remy standing in the doorway, Emile quickly scrubbed away the tears on his face and called up to him, “Oh, hi, Remy … I, um, was just getting ready for my presentation.” His voice was shaky and Remy’s arms itched with the impulse to hug him. He sprinted down the aisle toward Emile's seat. “I am merely feeling a little nervous.” Emile looked down at his closed laptop on the flip-out desk in front of him. “I apologize,” he said at last.

“Emile ... You don’t have to apologize for crying.” Reaching the first row, Remy fumbled in his pockets for a packet of tissues. “Here,” he murmured, pressing the pack into Emile’s hands, frowning briefly when he felt how cold his fingers were. “May I sit with you?” Remy gestured back toward the door, “Or I can go ... if you’d rather be alone, I'd understand - “

Emile wouldn’t look up, but whispered, voice breaking, “Would - would you stay … if you don’t have somewhere more … more important to be, that is.”

Remy smiled softly, taking the seat next to him. “I can’t think of anywhere more important to be right now.”

Emile briefly glanced up at Remy and nodded his thanks. Opening the tissues, he pulled one out and scrubbed at his face again. His voice was still catching, words coming out in little gasps. “I - I don’t know what …,” Emile shook his head and closed his eyes, holding his breath as he tried to halt his tears “I don’t know why I’m crying. I don’t ... really have anything to be sad about.” Emile pushed his lips into a smile, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m - I’m just being a little oversensitive.”

Remy looked closely at the way Emile’s hands grasped at his own shirt and the stiffness in his smile.“You know, Emile, that’s the second time I’ve heard you call yourself oversensitive.” Remy said carefully. Emile shifted in his seat, pulling out a fresh tissue and twisting it in his hands. “My dad has always told me and my brothers that being sensitive is a strength.” Emile looked up at Remy, eyes wide in surprise. Remy bit at his cheek for a moment. “He's also said that anyone who calls you oversensitive is ... probably the one giving you something to be sensitive about." Remy leaned a little closer to whisper conspiratorially to Emile, winking, “And you can't let this get out - I've gotta keep up the pretense of generational rebellion. But ... I think my dad is right.”

Remy's heart jumped at the sound of the little laugh his terrible joke drew from Emile’s lips.

Emile blinked, looking into Remy’s eyes for a moment before returning his focus to his hands and the tissue he was slowly shredding. Remy let Emile sit quietly for a few minutes before murmuring, “You don’t have to, if you don’t want, but ...,” Remy noticed Emile’s hands shaking, “Would you like to talk about it?”

Emile pinched his lips together, ripping the bits of tissue into smaller and smaller pieces and arranging them in rows. He shook his head. “I’m just nervous about the presentation today.”

“Would it help to practice?” Remy opened his arms, palms up. “I can be your audience … if that would help, of course.” Emile felt fresh tears come to his eyes and he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, you hardly know me.” Emile looked down at his hands again. “How do you know I’m not just some creep? Or how do I know that you aren't?” Emile clamped his lips shut after the last question, covering his mouth with his hand, eyes wide. He shook his head, “That came out all wrong, I’m sorry.”

Remy grinned, shaking his head and waving his hands in front of him as though to wipe away the need for an apology. “It’s ok.” He tilted his head, speaking slowly, “I'm being nice to you because ... I think you’re nice, and smart … and … it was really funny how you took down Professor Howard the other day.” Emile blushed. “Mostly, you just looked like you needed a friend.” Remy shrugged, a crooked smile on his face. "I could use one, too."

Emile bit his lip, staring at Remy, before nodding and opening his laptop. “Ok … tell me if you like it, but … um, it’s too late to really change anything, so … go easy on the criticism.”

Nodding and sitting back in his seat, Remy folded his hands on the desktop in front of him, mimicking perfect audience etiquette. Emile stood and started to open his presentation file, turning the laptop and placing it on the lectern so Remy could see. Remy grinned at Emile, admiring the flowers on his desktop screen. “Nice background, by the way.”

Emile turned the screen a bit, "Oh, right. Safflowers are supposed to bring good luck." He shook his head, blushing, "It's silly, I know, but, well ... if baseball players are allowed to be a little superstitious, and not change their socks or spit in the same spot or whatever ... Why can't college students have a little something, right?"

Remy laughed and gave Emile a thumbs up, "I can get behind that! You got this ... Good luck,” he winked.

Emile took a deep breath and began.

As he dove into the presentation, Remy watched as Emile’s entire being just … expanded. His smile grew more natural and his shoulders lowered. Emile’s stance changed, too - he moved smoothly as he spoke and Remy thought he even looked taller. Remy leaned forward in his seat and let himself be drawn in to Emile's animated features and gentle voice.

By the time Emile got to the last slide, which featured a smiling Photoshopped turtle with an 'Any Questions?' speech bubble, other students were starting to file into their seats, so he closed his laptop and hustled back to his own row. Remy grinned at Emile, “You’re gonna knock this out of the park!”

@tsshipmonth2020

#remy & emile #remy sanders #emile patshki #remile #remile needed their own story to get the air time they desserved #mayflowersevent #day 13 prompt: safflowers for good luck #there is a big difference between mostly fluff and all fluff #mostly fluff is slightly angsty

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edupunkn00b · 3 years

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Remy & Emile, Chapter 1: Wise Men

Word Count: 2266, Human AU, pre- and during Chapter 1 of Happily Ever After

[ AO3 ]

May Flowers Event Day 11: Sunflowers for longevity

---

Remy Sanders slouched further down into his seat in his Paleoecology class. The professor was droning on and on about the heat death of the Universe and how long we could expect the Earth to last when the Universe itself had grown cold. Remy chuckled under his breath, imagining that his father would have something to say about the flaw in Professor Howard’s logic. The Earth will have long been swallowed by the Sun by the time we reach the heat death of the Universe, Professor. He doodled another sunflower in the margin of his notebook. His musings were interrupted by a shy voice at the front of the room.

“Um, excuse me, Professor, but I am not certain that’s entirely accurate.” Remy sat up in his seat, craning his neck to see who in the lecture hall of over two hundred students had interrupted their professor to correct him. Remy couldn’t quite see who was speaking. The lecture hall was crowded, with every seat filled. Paleoecology was a required course for all Atmospheric and Environmental Science majors and was only offered once every two years, so the class was typically filled to the rafters.

It was unfortunate, because Professor Howard put very little effort into the course. He clearly hadn’t updated his material in decades. The syllabus for the class was a photocopy of a photocopy of a photocopy. There were places where the original due dates were listed as 1998, with the old year simply crossed out and re-written. There were also rumors that Professor Howard could be vindictive in his grading, where your position on the class curve was based not on scores but on how much the professor liked you. It was not unheard of for unsuspecting students to fail his class the first time.

All of this led to a very packed room. Despite his efforts, Remy could only see the top of the brave student’s head, a bright tuft of curly pink hair.

“Professor, while it is true that the Universe will likely meet its end in complete entropy, or, the so-called ‘Big Freeze’, in several trillion years, our own planet is expected to succumb to the expanding Sun sometime in the next five to seven billion years when our sun reaches its red giant stage, expanding beyond 1 AU and engulfing our planet in its corona.”

“Thank you, ah …,” Professor Howard checked the seating chart, squinting across the rows, “uh, Mr. Patshki. Now, as I was saying - “

“One more thing, sir,” Patshki’s voice was polite but insistent. Remy couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “While our planet will likely be destroyed in that time frame, there are other, more pressing threats to our existence.” Patshki was quiet for a moment and Remy could swear he’d paused for dramatic effect. “Human life on this planet is much more likely to meet its demise well within the next several millennia, through a combination of climate change and an electromagnetic pulse from the Sun similar to the 1849 Carrington Event.”

A tittering of laughter spread across the lecture hall as Patshki sat down, clearing his throat and muttering, “Thank you, sir,” and the professor returned to the lecture. Remy’s attention, however, was solely focused on the small tuft of pink hair he could just barely see through the rows of occupied seats.

—

At the end of class, Remy quickly packed his notebook and computer away and stood, eyes searching for that bright pink shade. He wanted to meet this guy, if for no other reason than to shake his hand for putting this overly-tenured and intellectually lazy professor in his place, even if it was just for a moment.

Remy frowned, about to give up, thinking he must have missed him leaving through another exit, when he finally spotted him waiting in a short line to speak with the professor. Remy made his way down the long aisle like a salmon moving upstream, snaking through the crowd of students trying to leave the hall. Finally, he made it to the lower level and adjusted his bag, looking for Patshki. When Remy spotted him, he stood frozen in place. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Patshki’s voice had been soft and shy, but his courage in correcting a tenured professor in the middle of a lecture drove Remy to expect someone a little … tougher looking.

The boy - Man, Remy corrected himself. We’re not kids anymore. The man was a little shorter than he was, with a wild crown of pink, curly hair. He wore a bright pink oxford shirt and pressed khakis, with pink Chucks and matching laces. Remy stood a bit behind him and waited - mostly - patiently while Patshki spoke with the professor, asking questions about the reading. The professor had stopped packing up his notes and talked with him, a bemused expression on his face.

“The text only briefly mentions the issues around scaling,” Patshki blinked rapidly, tilting his head. “What would you recommend we read to further investigate the best way to reconcile the gaps when applying the same spatial scale to both paleoecological and neoecological studies?”

“That’s an interesting question. It sounds like you’ve read Bennington - “

“And Badgely,” Patshki added, eyebrow raised.

Professor Howard cleared his throat, “Yes, yes, she was a contributor to his work, as well.” He narrowed his eyes at Patshki, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You’re a Sophomore, aren’t you?” Emile nodded. “Are you TA’ing for any of your other classes?” Emile blinked at the sudden topic change. “My TA for my 100-level course just quit and I could use a replacement.”

Remy wanted to interrupt - a TA quitting more than half-way through the year with a tenured professor - even one as bad as this guy? That’s a red flag, my man. He looked closely at Patshki’s body language. He’d taken a half step backwards away from the professor. Good, he's going to say no.

“I’m not sure if it will work with my schedule,” the pink-haired man carefully replied, shaking his head slightly. “Can I get back to you?”

The professor tilted his head, “You’re planning to eventually apply to the graduate program in Earth and Space Sciences at UW, aren’t you?” Emile nodded slowly. “You will need a good recommendation to get in. I know several of the advisors in that program.”

“Well, I appreciate you considering me, but I have a recommendation from Professor Markovski already and -“

Professor Howard started to frown, pulling out his seating chart and grade book again, ready to make a mark.

“Professor, when does the class meet?” Remy interjected. Patshki turned to look at him, relief washing over his face. Remy swallowed, not sure what he expected to say when the professor responded.

“It’s a Monday-Wednesday class with a Thursday practical, at 2 and 4 PM,” the professor narrowed his eyes at Remy, lips pursed in annoyance at the interruption.

“Oh … you see,” he looked at Patshki, mouth gaping for a half-second when the man's chocolatey brown eyes locked on to his own. Remy took a breath before continuing, “We have a standing study group with Professor Chiang every Wednesday. There’s no way we can get out of it.” He risked a glance back at Patshki, nodding slightly. Come on, accept the save ...

“Right, sorry, Professor, I was afraid I was forgetting something like that.” Both men held their breath as the professor slowly unfolded his arms and shrugged.

“Very well. If you truly have a conflict, I suppose I will need to find another TA, then.” The professor squinted at Remy again, “Croft, did you have a question, as well?”

Remy’s eyebrows knit together. “Excuse me, Professor, but it’s actually Sanders now.” At least it will be in May when I can change it … His face relaxed when he saw Professor Howard update his chart. “But, no. No, sir, no questions from me. I was just going to walk with, um, my friend back to the library.”

Patshki nodded quickly, turning from the professor, “Right, right, we’re running late … Thank you, Professor. See you next week.” He turned away from the professor’s intimidating stare, wide eyes meeting Remy’s again. He mouthed, “Thank you!” and followed Remy back up the stairs and out of the the lecture hall.

As soon as the door closed, Patshki grabbed Remy’s arm, “Thank you so much! Professor Howard was starting to really creep me out.” Patshki leaned against the wall, putting his hands on his knees and bending over, breathing quickly and starting to wheeze.

“Hey … hey, um, you’re gonna be ok …,” Remy began, “What's your first name? I'm Remy."

Patshki gasped, “Em- Emile …”

Remy bit his lip, trying to remember anything from last year's mental health first aid class. Connect, ask … “It’s really nice to meet you, Emile. Can … can we go outside?”

Emile looked up at Remy, blinking rapidly. “Professor Howard will likely come out soon," Remy continued. "Can I help you?” Emile’s eyes grew wide and he nodded. Remy picked up Emile's bag and held out his arm for the other man to grasp and they made their way outside and a little distance from the entrance, sitting on a bench on the Quad.

Emile’s breathing started to calm as soon as they got outside. Remy realized he was counting quietly as he breathed. Remy sat silently, waiting with Emile until he was calm enough to speak again. After several more minutes, Remy could no longer hear any wheezing. He noticed Emile’s shoulders start to lower and he sat a little straighter. Finally, Emile turned to Remy and gave him a small smile. “Thank you - again. I … I hope I am not keeping you from your next class.”

Remy smiled back, “No, no, not at all. That was my last class of the day.” He patted Emile’s shoulder, “Feeling any better?”

Emile nodded, cheeks slightly pink. “I think perhaps I’m a little sleep deprived … blowing things out of proportion.” He shook his head. “I can be a little oversensitive sometimes …” Emile suddenly froze, eyes wide. “I - and I suppose I tend to overshare.” Emile reached for his bag where Remy had set it down by their feet. “I’m sorry … I - “

Remy brushed Emile’s arm, “Please wait, Emile … why are you sorry?” Emile turned, peering closely at Remy’s face and registering no anger or annoyance. “It’s a nice day and we’re sitting outside,” Remy shrugged gently and smiled. “I don’t see anything to be sorry about.” Emile tilted his head, considering Remy’s words. Slowly, he sat back down, relaxing against the back rest.

Remy looked closely at Emile. “Would you rather talk or just sit quietly and people watch?,” he winked, grinning widely.

“People watching sounds quite nice right about now, actually, if you do not mind?,” Remy nodded, leaning back and turning his attention to the students walking around the Quad.

They sat together for almost an hour, interrupted only by a quiet alarm chiming on Emile’s phone. “Oh, I need to get back to my dorm before, um …” his voice trailed off as he stood and picked up his bag again. “See you in class next week?”

Remy nodding, standing, “Yes, yes, definitely!” He opened his arms to hug Emile at the same time that Emile reached out to shake his hand. They both laughed and settled on a fist bump. “It really was nice to meet you, Emile.” Emile grinned and turned, walking quickly down the path toward the dorms. Remy watched for a few moments before retrieving his own bag and walking the opposite way down the path toward the library.

—

Next week in Paleoecology, after the TAs took attendance, Remy noticed that the seat next to Emile appeared vacant, so on the first break, he tucked his notebook and laptop under his arm and sprinted down the aisle. “Hi, Emile,” he began, grinning as his new friend looked up. “Say, um, do you mind if I sit next to you?” Emile blinked at him, lips parted, expression unreadable. Remy’s eyes widened and he shook his head, “Oh, you know, I’m sorry, I’m overstepping - “ he started to move back toward the aisle and his regular seat. “- I - I didn’t mean to be rude …,” Remy turned, ready to rush back up the steps, when Emile stood and reached for his arm.

“Remy, yes, please sit!,” he blurted out, his voice carrying a few rows away and drawing the attention of more than a few pairs of eyes. Emile flushed but gestured toward the empty seat next to him, nodding. He lowered his voice, “Please.”

Remy smiled and settled into the seat just as the professor called the class back from break.

The rest of class was uneventful, with both men drawn back into the lecture. The time passed quickly and before either were really aware of it, class was over. Remy packed his bag and stood, hands in his pockets. He grinned at Emile. “Are … are you busy? Maybe we could, um, work on our presentations together?”

Emile smiled, starting to nod, but then froze, eyes wide, when his phone began to ring, playing Chris Brown’s Go Crazy. “Actually, I - I apologize, I need to take this.”

“Oh, of course … see you later, then.” Remy waved and smiled, starting up the aisle.

Emile pressed the call button on his phone, “Hi, Honey, I am just getting out of class right now …”

As Remy started up the stairs, he very nearly managed to convince himself that he didn’t feel that twinge in his chest as he heard how Emile answered his call.

@tsshipmonth2020

#mayflowersevent #day 11: sunflowers for longevity #remy sanders #emile patshki #remile #remy & emile #remile needed their own story to get the air time they desserved #yes remy needs a shirt that says Talk Nerdy to Me and your point is?#angst is coming ...

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