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look-at-the-soul · 8 months

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The Photoshoot - Part 47

Cillian Murphy x OC

Series Master list: Part 1 (2014), Part 2 (2015)

I’ve to start this part by saying I’m surprised how this chapter got written by itself-and no, I’m not talking about AI-, what I mean is I had the idea súper clear from the beginning, the dialogue flew or slipped out of my fingers as I typed like a maniac 🤭 and I know it’s because of how much I love this story and all the journey I as a writer have been with them, the ups and downs, the turns… I cried and laughed so much and it fills my heart in a way that anything else can’t.

To the families/people going through adoption, I hope you get those papers, from the bottom of my heart. Last but not least, @forbidden-forest-witch thank YOU for the niece inspiration 🥰💕

Word count: 3,368

⚠️ Extra fluff

Cillian flopped on the couch with a groan, after loading the car to its maximum capacity with all the things Yael bought for their visit to the orphanage. Scout jumped next to him exhausted from following them inside and outside.

“What are you doing?” His wife called from the kitchen, getting closer she decided to join them on the couch, by sitting on Cillian’s lap.

“Taking a break.” He chuckled and her whole world lit.

“Lee-Anne sent me money to buy a few snacks for the children and Jenna bought them boxes of orange and apple juice.” Yael explained running her fingers through his locks. “God, I’m going to miss these.”

Cillian closed his eyes, giving into the relaxing feeling her fingers were providing him.

“They did? That’s very, very thoughtful.” He opened one of his eyes a little, if she continued doing that he’d be sleeping in less than five minutes.

“Yes, and your sisters donated loads of new toys, can you believe they still have the tags attached?” Her eyes sparkled in excitement.

“Mhmm.”

“You’re not even listening to me.” Yael half complained attempting to get up, but Cillian’s arms wrapped around her waist firmly to stop her.

“‘Course I’m.” He rubbed his nose against the crook of her neck, taking in her fragrance.

“Oh there it is… the Tommy Shelby voice.” Yael leaned back to look at her husband, he had a gushing expression as he cupped her face.

“No it’s not.” Cillian debated.

“ I can totally see it, don’t try to hide it.”

She saw him tilting his head and doing his signature pout.

“Staaaawp.” She giggled, the more she looked at him, the more evident it was.

In a fluent motion, Cillian pinned her beneath his body.

“And now you’re going to tell me you don’t like it?” Cillian raised his eyebrow.

Yael bit her lower lip, her eyes sparkling. “Actually… I love it.”

“I’m sure those kids will be so happy with all the things you bought for them.” Cillian admitted leaning down and kissing all over her jaw.

“Don’t you think it’s too much?” Yael asked tentatively, doubting for an instance.

Cillian’s hands cupped her face gently. “Not at all,” he held his weight above her and went back for another kiss, “why do I have a feeling that this isn’t the first time you’re getting involved in a project like this?” A soft smile spread on his lips and his blue orbs were shining just like hers.

“I feel like this is my call, you know? Just like when I chose to study photography…”

A tender smile grew on his lips while he ran his hand up and down her thigh.

“You know I support you fully on this, right?”

Instead of answering her husband with words, Yael choose to give him kiss after kiss, a small peck on the corner of his lips, smooches sounds filled the living room, Cillian felt Yael smiling and his hand cupped her cheek as she moved back. She’d be forever grateful for having him by her side not only during the difficult times, but also to see the growing in different aspects of their lives.

She ran her hands over his shoulders, feeling his biceps. A content sigh slipped from her lips.

“I’m really excited about this.”

Cillian smiled widely at her happiness, it was literally oozing from every pore reflecting beautifully in her eyes and features.

“There’s so much to do, these kids they don’t have someone who looks out for them, wh-what if they need shoes? Or glasses to see? A doctor if they get sick?”

Cillian was mesmerized by the passion in her voice, she was so humble and genuine, so it wasn’t really a surprise to see how her engagement was enveloping him as well.

“We’ve plenty of time to see what else they might need at the orphanage, we should get going though.” He gave her then a playful slap on her bum. “So you’re not going to spend our budget on spa days and shopping huh?”

“Nope, I’m going to buy loads of things for the orphanages.” Yael accepted the coat Cillian was holding for her and after letting Scout know they’d be later, she linked her arm with his.

“More than one?” Cillian added a dramatic look but didn’t hide the grin that turned the corner of his lips upwards. “Are you sure you don’t want a spa day? I’m sure it’s cheaper.”

Yael laughed feeling her cheeks burning. “Don’t worry I’m planning on doing a professional photo shoot in a few weeks to raise funds.”

As Cillian drove, he placed his hand on her thigh. “How so?”

“People like accountants, nurses, anyone basically will have the chance to get their picture taken professionally to use it for their resume it’s a quick session I’m thinking twenty-thirty minutes, one after another and then sending the digital images so they can upload their resume or web page. So from the price I’ll only take the money to rent the office and the rest I’ll donate it equally to two or three orphanages.”

“I love this and I love you. This speaks volumes about you and your heart.” He felt more than proud of the way Yael decided to turn things around. Instead of becoming anger and resentful for not being able to have children biologically or the slow process she was looking for a way to help.

“We’re touched by your generosity Mr. and Mrs. Murphy.” The responsible of the orphanage thanked them as they finished unloading the truck of their vehicle.

“We’ve family and friends involved in this, although they couldn’t join us unfortunately.” Yael explained.

“That’s lovely, having the community support and share a little bit of what they have with the children has a huge impact.” She motioned them to join the children in the patio of the house, volunteers helped them organize the children in a line. “Kids, we’ve visitors today, Mr. and Mrs. Murphy and I heard they brought snacks over!”

A loud round of cheering took them by surprise, bringing Yael to the edge of tearing at the happy smiles they got in response after a loud thank you the kids shouted in chorus.

“Do you like it Shioban?” Yael crouched down at the little girl’s height as she handed her a stuffed animal.

“I love it! Thanks!”

Ages varied just as personalities, it was a shock at first to be surrounded by so many kids, but they all were so well behaved, listened carefully to the instructions and remained in silence when an adult was talking, sharing excited glances at the boy or girl standing next to them.

Yael and Cillian explained they brought over books to read, a few chairs, toys and game boards they would be giving the responsible of the place to take to the reading room they had, they also brought a few first aid kit, plastic glasses and some clothes. The happiness in the children’s faces hit them deep, touching every fiber of their bodies.

“That was the last one,” Cillian sighed surprised by all the energy he felt the kids had been taking from him, they were so demanding, asking loads of questions, shouting over to get whatever they had in their hands.

“Shall we give them their snacks? That should keep them busy for a while.” Suggested the orphanage’s director.

Cillian nodded touching the head of a girl who was already in line. “How about you go and take your place at the table sweetie? I’ll bring your lunch in a minute.”

The girl nodded and stormed to take her place.

Later on when they left the orphanage, Yael felt something else, it was a bittersweet feeling. For leaving so soon and for thinking that she wasn’t doing enough.

Before they left, Cillian was gifted with a couple of drawings and Yael had a few colorful bracelets made by the girls. They both promised they’d go back soon and invite their family and friends.

“Did you see that little boy, Jax playing with the ball we gave him?” Yael beamed once in the car, touched by the memory of the kid running to give her a hug and then storm to play.

Cillian kissed her temple, still fighting the lump in his throat after such emotional moment at the orphanage they visited.

Learning the background stories of some of the children left them heartbroken as it was very mixed, some had been taken away due to violence or their parents passing away, others were left because they couldn’t cover the kid’s expenses. But either way it was hard to digest.

“If I could, I’d adopt them all.” Yael admitted, her voice sounded shaky.

“I know you would, love.” Cillian gave her hand a firm squeeze. “Now how about we grab a coffee before your photoshoot?”

Adjusting on her seat, Yael nodded and leant onto his shoulder as her husband drove. His comfort and support meant to her a lot more than words could express.

****

Sometimes her photo sessions got longer than expected, so Yael arrived home past seven o’clock. Tired but pleased by the way the photos turned out.

Noticing a vehicle in her driveway, she stepped inside greeted by Scout and the loud tap of his tail, wiggling from side to side. Kissing the top of his head, she caressed the muzzle gently noticing the voices coming from the kitchen.

“Hey Orla, hello Sienna!” Yael greeted them going for a quick peck on the lips from her husband. “What’s the matter?”

She focused on her niece’s puffy eyes.

“Someone thought it was a funny idea to stick gum on Sienna’s hair, we had to cut it to get rid of it… I tried ice, well everything.” Orla shared with a sad expression.

“What’s the problem with these children?! Are you alright baby girl?” She went to give the girl a hug.

“She wanted to see you.” Orla smiled.

“Oh! Yes of course do you wanna have dinner?” Yael looked at her husband they didn’t know yet what they’d do but she was sure they’d figure something out.

“I wish, but I can’t… there’s a phone call I need to take with other parents.”

“Mama can I stay here?” Sienna asked.

“No darling, they’re probably busy-”

Yael looked at Cillian and he knew immediately what she was about to suggest.

“She can stay tonight, if you want of course.”

Orla had been on the edge all day, emotions right at the surface so having someone taking over mommy duty for one night sounded wonderful.

“Pleaseeeee.” Sienna asked with big puppy eyes.

“Are you sure this is alright?” She looked at her brother, finding a nod as answer. “Fine, but be a good girl, okay?”

“Okay!” Sienna clapped excitedly and jumped from the kitchen island to tackle Scout.

“We can drive her tomorrow morning.” Yael offered with a genuine smile.

Orla was still torn, but relieved at the same time. “Do you need anything?”

“Please just go, don’t be noisy.” Cillian waved at her, making Yael giggle.

“Grand, I’ll see you tomorrow kiddo.” Orla kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Enjoy the sleepover.”

“We can watch a movie, would you like that?” Yael felt a rush of love spread through her body as her niece gave a little jump. “Help me find the popcorn first.”

“Tell me what’s going on… Orla? What’s the problem?”

His sister looked down, he knew her so damn well.

“I’m pregnant and we didn’t even planned for it.” She confessed worriedly.

Cillian’s features softened and hugged his sister. “Congratulations! But why are you acting like this?”

Orla let out a low sob, she was so emotional. “Because you guys have trouble starting a family and it kind of feels wrong.”

“Hey non of that, I’m so happy for you and you should enjoy it as well, it’s a wonderful news!”

“But I’m worried about Yael I don’t want to make her feel bad like I’m rubbing it in her face.”

“Stop worrying about that, yes we wish it was us every time we hear about a baby, but it doesn’t mean she won’t be happy for you.” He kissed his sister on the cheek. “Now take a deep breath and text me when you get home, love you.”

“Thank you, for everything.” She wiped her eyes and shouted goodbye to her daughter and sister in law.

Of course it was a bittersweet sweet feeling for both of them, but they were stronger than this and there was no chance to take it personally.

“Did you pick a movie yet?” Yael asked as she joined her niece in the TV room upstairs, already changed into a decent pajama top and bottom because she regularly wore Cillian’s clothes to sleep.

Placing the tray of snacks in the middle, Sienna had a look of surprise.

“I love your braid!” Sienna beamed pointing at her aunt’s hairstyle.

“Thanks, if I don’t braid it the following morning it will be a mess.” She chuckled. “Do you want me to braid yours?”

“Yes! Please.”

After a few minutes she came back from the master bedroom with a box full of hair ties, a comb and a brush, finding Cillian eating the popcorn.

“I hope you’re leaving some for us, mister.” Scout gave her a guilty look.

Cillian extended his hand to offer her a popcorn. One.

“Really?”

“I was showing you the one I’m eating.” He shoved it into his mouth and handed his wife the bowl with the rest with a smirk.

Internally melting at the sight of Yael brushing his niece’s hair. He simply knew she’d be the greatest mother one day.

Cillian was in awe at her abilities to move her hands as she braided Sienna’s hair, but at the same time he could see how careful she was.

“Okay drums roll please…” Yael handed Sienna a mirror so she could check herself and how the braids turned out. “It’s harder to make it to someone else ‘cause I need to think how to do in the opposite direction.”

“I don’t know how you do it.” He got comfortable at his wife’s lap now that she was free, resting his head on her thighs.

“I love it auntie!” Sienna expressed and Yael felt like her heart could explode.

So the three of them plus Scout snuggled closer to enjoy the rest of the film.

By the time the film was done, Sienna was sound asleep so quietly they got the remaining of their food downstairs. Cillian gave his wife a long look.

“Did she talk to you about the gum?”

“Yeah… guess it was harder than she showed, but luckily the piece of hair Orla cut can hide, she’s a fantastic kid I don’t understand why that girl is determined to bother Sienna.” She added while cleaning the top of the kitchen island. “I feel so bad for her, this human stupidity is getting out of hand.”

Cillian sighed, hands on his hips. “Hopefully the principal will take actions against that bully.”

“I know violence is not the way, but I swear some people need to see red from time to time.”

He couldn’t have said that better. “Let’s go upstairs now, we’ll clean that tomorrow.” He added grabbing his wife by the hips to guide her out of the kitchen.

Minutes later they went back into their TV room, and turning off the lights, Cillian and Yael went to lay down next to their niece and Scout. Whispering goodnight to each other, Yael snuggled into the crook of his neck, feeling his hands running up and down her back.

They both loved to feel that they were a safe place to Sienna, looking forward to be there for her as much as they could so in a near future when the teen age started their bond would be closer and stronger.

The following morning after having breakfast, Orla picked up Sienna from her brother’s house and Yael went to the suburbs for a photoshoot, her heart had been pounding from the first minute she let the couple who requested her photography services for their special occasion.

They had a gorgeous scenery, they oozed happiness and love for each other, but the reason behind their photoshoot it’s what touched Yael’s heart.

It was hard but not impossible to think this was a huge coincidence and she spent most of the session wiping her eyes. They were a lovely couple and the photos flew so easily. She was planning on edit those first thing once she got home to print and send the digital copies as soon as possible.

That’s why when Cillian offered to pick her up when the photoshoot was over, she agreed immediately, excited to see him.

“Wow, it’s safe to assume they didn’t give you loads of trouble with the poses?” He leaned in for a quick peck after seeing her big smile.

“You’re not going to believe this, but you can have a sneak peek.” Yael clicked a few times on her camera, scrolling through the images, stopping in one of her favorites.

“Can’t believe this.” His hand flew to his forehead in surprise and looked at his wife.

“I know! Thought the same, they’ve been in the process for a while, and the first time they picked a family at the last minute the biological parents called of the adoption papers and they were left with a broken heart. However… they tried again and this time they chose a little boy he’s seven-years old and they fell in love with him, like love at first sight.”

Without realizing Cillian’s hand was caressing Yael’s shoulders, touched by the story behind the photographs.

“They finally got green light from the judge to finalize the adoption and they’re heading to court next week to sign the papers. But they kept it very low key, she told me a lot of people tried to convince her this was a wrong idea.”

Sighing, Cillian thought about it for a second. “It’s always for the best to keep important things to yourself. Sadly people ruin plans if you share them beforehand.”

Yael wrapped her arms around his torso as they walked towards his car parked at the other side of the park.

“There are so many kids looking for a family… and parent looking for a kid.” Emotions taking over her. “But I also think…”

“Whot?”

The look she gave him sent chills all over his body. But in a good way.

“These kind of matches is just like love you know? There’s an instant connection.”

Brushing away a loose lock, he kissed the top of her head.

“Amen.”

Yael giggled, little by little she was getting more comfortable with the process, knowing that it was meant to be.

As they reached the car, his phone started ringing. When Cillian took a look at the screen his heart rate went up rapidly.

“It’s the social worker.”

Yael had an adrenaline rush. “Go! Answer it.”

As she helped him put it in speaker, her hands started shaking.

“Hello? Mr. Murphy?”

“Ya.”

“Just calling to let you know the home study has been approved,” the woman stated and they could t believe what they just heard, …”you can continue now with the interview process and-”

“Goodness! Is this real?”

“Yes Mrs. Murphy, my secretary will give you a call to tell you the date for the individual and joint interview.”

Their minds couldn’t process the rest of the phone call, everything was blurry.

Was that really happening?

“I’m sorry can you make sure it’s-” Yael’s hand flew to her mouth, her hands were shaking!

“The home study has been approved for Mr. and Mrs. Murphy…” she read part of the letter. “I’ll make sure to send the official papers to your house tomorrow morning.”

Thanking her and hanging up the phone, Cillian pulled Yael for a tight hug, not finding the right words to say, but feeling extremely blessed and relieved. This was a huge step in the process, so now they could focus on keeping their hopes high.

Next part

Tag list @lyarr24 @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @winchestergirl22 @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @forbidden-forest-witch @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @heidimoreton @thenattitude @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @queenshelby @ange-thoughts @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik @already-broken144 @alessioayla @paprikabadger @dolllol2405 @conversationpits @itsilvermorny @lafell @imichelle-l-rigby @yrli8 @cutecurly-hair @mrkdvidal1989 @cillspropertea @hyperfixationsonshuffle @sydneyyyya can’t tag @abbymcguire @shelundeadxxxx @elk96 @pono-pura-vida @lovemissyhoneybee @slimeantha (can’t tag) @kmc1989

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #cillianmurphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fiction #cillian murphy fan fiction #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy oc

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werewolfsister · 8 months

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THE ULTIMATE OCTOBER BUCKET LIST

Just in case you’re looking for something to do this spooky season, look no further! Please submit suggestions and additions if you have them 🎃

SEPTEMBER 1ST

Begin reading A Night in the Lonesome October, by Roger Zelazney

Choose an Inktober Challenge

OCTOBER 1st-31st

Put together a scary playlist, or check out a pre-made one! ( https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLKkteYcz3WqtSTWxrid5ioJMJGLZGsZnj&feature=shared )

Go to a haunted house

Have a festive fall drink—pumpkin spice latte, Halloween-inspired cocktail, apple cider?

Watch a scary movie—like Get Out, Psycho, or Hereditary

Watch a Halloween special— like It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!

Go to a Halloween/scary movie trivia night

Order a Halloween or fall themed mystery/subscription box

Bake Halloween cookies

Go on a ghost tour

Attend a dumb dinner

Buy your Halloween décor

Decorate the house

Compete in a costume contest

Buy Halloween candy

Pick your pumpkins

Carve your pumpkins

Burn a campfire

Tell scary stories

Read some scary stories—like H.P. Lovecraft, Steven King, or Anne Rice

Get lost in a corn maze

Visit a graveyard

Go apple picking

Visit a fall festival

Send old-timey Halloween postcards

Go on a hayride

Do a pumpkin-head photoshoot

Visit a Halloween attraction or theme park—like Halloweentown, OR; or Disneyland, CA

Take a walk to crunch fall leaves

Drive through town and play Halloween decoration bingo

Attend Oktoberfest

Listen to a horror podcast— like The Magnus Archives or Sherlock Holmes Radio Mysteries

Watch a spooky play—like the Rocky Horror Picture Show or Little Shop of Horrors

Watch some haunting cartoons—like Spooky Month or Villainous (Villanos)

Giant pumpkin regatta/race

Go to some Museum/Zoo Halloween events

Stay overnight in a haunted hotel—like the Skirvin Hotel, OK; or the Overlook Hotel, OR

Get the latest Pokemon Trick or Trade Halloween card packs

Visit a Hot Topic or other ghoulish store

Go ghost hunting

Vote in Katmai National Park’s Fat Bear Week! ( https://explore.org/fat-bear-week )

Go on a costumed bar crawl

Play a scary videogame—like Cry of Fear or Resident Evil

Play a scary boardgame—like the JAWS boardgame, Shaky Manor, or Betrayal at House on the Hill

Take a (respectful!) tombstone rubbing

Draw for Inktober

Do an old-timey lover’s Halloween premonition

Visit a creepy museum exhibit—like the Museum of Death, CA; or the Jack the Ripper Museum, London

Get a tarot reading or some palmistry

Attend a séance

Try out a Zombie Run or Zombies vs Humans

Enjoy Samhain traditions

Visit a spooky person’s grave—like Lovecraft’s in Providence, RI; or the Paris Catacombs, Paris

Go on a nighttime nature walk and spot some creepy critters—maybe an owl!

Do some history of Halloween research

Make fall themed crafts

Go on a labyrinth walk

Dress up your pets for a photoshoot or a pet parade

Play a trick on someone

Trick or treat!

Hand out candy!

NOVEMBER 1ST- 3RD

Halloween decorations clean up!

Eat your candy!

Celebrate Dias de los Muertos

Do some calavera painting

Put up an Ofrenda/altar

Enjoy a little ancestor remembrance

Walk in a Dias de los Muertos parade

Put up marigolds and other décor

Go to a church service

If you’re crazy, start putting up the Christmas decorations <.< (we all know you gotta wait until at least Thanksgiving!!!)

#Halloween #Halloween bucket list #October #October bucket list #October activities #Halloween activities #this isn’t what I usually post #but I hope it helps someone have the SPOOKIEST HALLOWEEN EVER!

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agentjazzy · 6 months

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Carmela Creeper Cereal was released by General Mills this year, supposedly caramel apple flavored, accompanied with monster shaped marshmallows

it was... okay.

I LOVED the presentation, but I also thought that they could've gone harder with the caramel apple flavoring tbh

frankly, I thought the cereal bits looked more like little green ghosts than skulls, and alongside my Ghostbusters spoons from a Sonic Drive In promotion awhile back, it seemed a lot more fitting

so, as an excuse to show off my spoon collection + memorialize this Monster Cereal, here's a photoshoot I did last night before I tossed the remaining cereal I had left in the box (which was taking up valuable real estate in my cereal pantry, lol)

if you ignore the box, its very easy to pretend that it's Slimer's Ecto Cereal with Mini Puft Marshmallows

using your Officially Licensed Ghostbusters™ spoons, detect, capture, and eat the ghosts and save New York city! ... or something like that, lol

in fact, the glow-in-the-dark Slimer spoon matched perfectly, so much so that it isn't that hard to imagine it being a pack in cereal prize

I also LOVE how the green looks in these photos like YES you must EAT the ectoplasmic cereal sadly it also probably tastes like ectoplasm rip

feel free to eat it alongside the movies or cartoon tho, it's a very immersive experience

#the almond milk is expired bc i switched to lactose free milk and like that wayyyy better and forgot to finish it in time whoops #it worked out tho bc then i didn't feel bad for not eating another bowl of this cereal akshsgfhk #i DID eat half tho. alongside watching some episodes of real ghostbusters - i like it so far!#ghostbusters #the real ghostbusters #ghostbusters cereal #carmella creeper #general mills #general mills monster cereal #sonic drive in #jazzy keeps blogging til the blog ends

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mamichigo · 2 years

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shumika // fireworks

With a cursory glance at his wristwatch, Shu confirmed almost half an hour had passed since Kagehira left to find himself a snack. It wasn't often that Kagehira indulged in copious amounts of sugary sweets, always minding his form as Shu required him to do. However, it wasn't often that they got to enjoy a summer festival either, much less one with both of them together. Shu had caught a glimpse of Kagehira's sparkling eyes as he observed the stalls in the distance and, with a sigh, told him to hurry up and go already. He even forgot to limit the amount of snacks Kagehira was allowed to get.

Was he growing too soft, after all?

Shu shook his head, then tipped it back to see the faint twinkle of the distant stars. The fireworks were scheduled to begin in about ten minutes. They had secured a secluded spot on the grass to witness it only in each other's presence, but now that Shu sat alone atop the picnic blanket, he had second thoughts on coming here at all.

Mademoiselle gazed silently at him; she didn't have to speak for him to understand what she wanted to say.

"Yes, Mademoiselle, I'm feeling a little lonely."

Her hair was soft under the finger he used to fix one of her curls.

"I'm with you, Shu-kun."

"That's not the problem."

In truth, it had been a long wait for their reunion. He loved Paris, but some days the hours dragged and Kagehira slept on, hours ahead of himself. Shu couldn't bring himself to interrupt his rest. Before this, they only saw each other in a blur of photoshoots, airplane trips, and hurriedly putting together a new outfit. They never got to speak of more than work. Their hands never brushed for longer than was necessary to pass along a piece of fabric.

In the meantime, something fierce and hungry grew under his skin. Shu clenched his hands together, but it never got rid of the itch.

Where was Kagehira?

Just as he remembered the existence of his mobile device and considered using it, a panting figure ran in his direction, his hand waving in the air to get Shu's attention.

"Oshi-san, sorry I'm so late!" Kagehira was shouting, and Shu had to lower his head in embarrassment as someone stared at the two of them.

"Hmph, if you had taken even a second more to return, I would've left," Shu snapped, eyes averted, not entirely knowing how else to deal with the burning in his chest.

"Don't say that, Oshi-san!" Kagehira whined. He leaned down with his forearms against his knees, wheezing through every breath. "I didn't mean to, really. There were lotsa people, and I want t' get… Here."

He gave Shu a small box which, upon inspection, contained a simple platter of cut fruit, all fresh. A nice aroma wafted from inside the box.

"This is…?"

"Oshi-san barely ate anything fer breakfast, so I got this fer ya." Kagehira sat down next to Shu. "I washed and cut 'em myself, so ya don't have t' worry about anyone else touching yer food," he announced proudly.

Dumbfounded, Shu looked back down what was supposed to be his meal. There was even a fork inside for his use--a real, metal one, rather than the flimsy plastic things they'd give out at places like this. He could only imagine that Kagehira had to ask a few favors to get these for him. Embarrassingly, he realized his eyes stung a little; in the crook of his arm, Mademoiselle giggled.

"It's satisfactory," Shu blurted out haltingly. He chewed resolutely on a piece of apple. In the following silence, he worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Quieter, he added, "Thank you, Kagehira."

A bright smile bloomed on Kagehira's lips, and he crashed into his side while babbling something foolish. Just this once… Shu didn't mind.

"You fool, you almost missed the fireworks," he grumbled weakly, as the first spark went off in the sky.

Kagehira squeezed himself even closer so they could hear each other. The scent of candy wafted into his nose. If Shu focused, he could feel Kagehira's heart beating rapidly against his arm, despite the layers of their yukata between them.

"Did ya get lonely waitin' fer me? Just kiddin-"

"I did," he admitted, as quietly as he'd allow himself, taking a gamble on whether he'd be heard or not.

Kagehira froze for a second, then he moved to look properly at Shu.

"Ya missed me?" He asked, and Shu read the shape of it on his lips more than he heard the words.

"Every day," he mouthed back.

Above them, the fireworks were still going off. Their food laid forgotten on the blanket. Mademoiselle's eyes were conspicuously turned away from them. Shu swallowed around the lump in his throat, then choked on it when he saw Kagehira move closer.

The trembling of his hands finally stopped when they rested on Kagehira's shoulders, his eyes fluttering shut in anticipation. Although his heart burned a mark on his sternum, his mind had gone blissfully blank. Belatedly, distractedly, Shu thought that Kagehira's lips tasted like grape chapstick.

In that infinite moment held between them, Shu just barely opened his eyes: only enough for the fireworks to become a haze of blurred colors in his damp eyelashes.

That indescribable itch, the ache in his limbs, as they turned into a pleasant buzz along his skin, he realized.

What else could it be but desire? What else could it be but the deepest, purest form of love?

To the sound of the fireworks, Shu kissed Kagehira as a promise for eternity.

#shu itsuki #mika kagehira #shumika #enstars #drabbles #my writing

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bates--boy · 10 months

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A mug of coffee long forgotten, now cool with the cream clouding to the top; the television going on in the living room, some Swedish gritty crime drama that became boring around season seven; cats lounging on the bookshelf, where they watch their father pace the living room.

"Yeah, I got their email, I just don't know why they need the next one so soon--"

Someone on the other end cuts him off, and Peter presses the phone closer to his ear.

"We're not even anywhere near the deadline, why the fuck--"

Peter pauses again and runs his free hand over his fuzzy scalp as he listens.

"Well, as my agent, I would hope you can negotiate a fucking break for me. You know, after I had just finished pushing out that book."

The cats' tails twitch as the animals pick up on the little cues from their father: clenching jaw, eyes squeezing shut, foot tapping on the linoleum when he stops pacing long enough.

"--that's not even in the contract -- you know what? Fine, fuck it. I'll get right to it--"

More white noise from the phone, except Peter snatches it away from his ear to shout at the screen:

"I will get the fucking book out soon! Get off my fucking back!"

"Peter, calm d--"

Peter presses the End Call button with a little more force than was necessary; it's luck that prevents the screen from cracking under his thumb. He shoots the phone into the couch cushions and locks his fingers behind his head. With his eyes closed, Peter takes a deep breath and thinks about the workload ahead. Choreography rehearsal, Pakiza's soccer game, music videos, album release, Hasan's hospital trips, magazine photoshoots. When he thinks about how he has to fit his book writing into it all, he feels the corners of his eyes prickle and go wet. He looks down at his phone. He thinks about logging into his author account, share the news that his series is going on hiatus for a few months, maybe half a year. He'll pay the penalty fees for breaking his contract; he doesn't care. Peter can let it eat a hole in his theatre profits. He just needs sleep. He just needs to breathe.

When he turns, a wink of light catches his eye. He follows it to the bookshelf. On the shelf below where the cats perch, the glass apple glimmers. It sits nice and perfect on the black velvet box with gold filigree, in which lies the neatly folded document of his and Sadaf's paternity test.

"...Right," Peter huffs, letting his arms fall to his side. He picks up the mug of coffee, takes a sip, and gags. "Ugh! Fuck!" Peter grunts. But even as he grimaces, he drains the mug, and goes to his computer.

He can make it work. He has to.

#ic #life thus far ( story )#droid noodles ( writing )

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fumikomiyasaki · 2 years

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🧸 with James x Carol, (stuffed apple) Pluck x Peko, (yellow rabbit) Kyosuke x Emma (brown fox) and Alto x April (black cat)

She stopped by in RSA as James gave her a text to meet her... knocking at the door to his room he handed her a box... opening it she found a small apple Plush with a pretty cute face causing her to gasp in awe and smile q bit red..

"I saw it and thought about you."

"It's so cute it fits me so well... thank you so much..." She quickly placed a kiss on his face and smiled...

"It will get a special place in my room."

Peko was done with recording as she found a box from Pluck among her stuff... inside was a adorable stuffed rabbit In Yellow which she quickly hugged and smiled at... for most of the day she kept it In her arms and walked around with it... she even used it as a requisite for a photoshoot...

She went by Pluck as well.

"Thank you Plucky for your little gift... I love it." She smiled at him brightly...

Emma was sceptical when she got a gift cause of the mail she got usually... but for one Kyosuke send it carefully crafted with some texts he made and a small brown fox plush he said Suzu recommended to him. She smiled at it softly reading through the text and placed it carefully on her bed... her face grew into a red and genuine smile...

"He always knows how to touch my heart... I need to thank him later." She patted the head of the plush and smiled.

Although it was a sweet gesture of Alto as she handed April a Plushy of a black Cat... Her face quickly got annoyed...

"I have to refuse this... I don't want anything to do with any cats... especially not black ones.... the symbol of bad luck but also..."

She held her arms as if in pain...

"Better you give this to someone who will like it more than me.... sorry.." She tried to walk away after this...

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland ocs #twst #disney twst #twistedwonderland #twistedwonderlandoc #twst ocs #twisted wonderland fanschool

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callmeblake · 11 months

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Close ups of Frank's leg tattoos from this set

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dzpenumbra · 10 months

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8/3/23

AGH I CAN'T STOP WORKING! I only have 3 more beads to go! I really wanted to get to bed early tonight because I'm really tired but... I just can't stop now, I'm so close. I already Brillo-prepped them too, so all I have to do is the final buff.

Alrighty, that only took about half an hour to wrap up. The beads are all done, they look great and they're all strung on a doubled piece of hemp for now. It was so long ago that I prepped these... I don't even really remember my plan. I think I was going to make this a knotted bead necklace, but I don't know if I wanted to add a clasp to it or have it be closed. I don't know if I have enough beads for that. I guess we'll see tomorrow.

Big day, lots of accomplishments. I woke up after about 5 hours of sleep, but got back to sleep pretty quickly, didn't even get out of bed. That was a relief. I had dreams about being with my ex, which was... difficult. And alien. But I shook that off and started my day. Yoga was nice today, I did some Factorio over first meal.

I went straight to work on my griptape to finish it off. I loved the vibe of listening to Heilung and painting on the floor, so I went with their live album. It's really good. All I had to do today was the highlights, and I knocked that out. Did a big photoshoot and... it's done!

Then I decided to relocate my suncatcher to a position where it can catch more light throughout the day. Where it was, it only really caught light between 5-7PM. I'm hoping this new spot will give it more light access. I had to run a string through an eye bolt mounted in the ceiling. That eye bolt was about 16 feet off the ground. So I took a big line of hemp twine and tied a rock to the end of it, and reached it over from my loft about 6 feet out to the eye bolt with one of my carved staves, and fed it into the hole with a second staff, the one I usually go walking with. It was a hell of a workout holding two oak branches by the hilt, trying to maneuver a rock through a 1" diameter hole like 5-6' away. But luckily, I picked a good rock. It fit snugly, but I got it through and it worked first try. So that's all rigged up and good to go, and super adjustable too.

Then I showered and headed out to the skatepark. When I got there, there were 6 people there. A group of 4 kids that looked college age, and two people closer to my age that looked like a couple. I did my usual thing, showing up on my hybrid board with the AirPods in, getting my trick board out of my backpack, finishing my apple and then off I went. It's weird going to the skatepark by myself when everyone else there is a group. For me, at least. And I'm actually starting to wonder... are my AirPods sending the wrong message?

Like... I keep my volume super low and transparency mode on for safety, if anyone wants to chat I can hear them clear as day. It's a really good habit to stay in, especially when riding on streets, so you can hear cars coming. But I'm kinda wondering... does me wearing headphones send the message "don't talk to me"? Because today was the first time someone talked to me, and I feel like it was almost a fluke? Meh, that's too harsh. It was entirely thanks to her, it was 100% the woman's initiative that made it happen.

This chick who... is most likely younger than me but somewhere around my age... was standing next to me when I was skating a low box. I was really bashful being one of the worst skaters at the park. I can talk all day about how skating is not a competition and it's just you trying to improve. And I bet most of the people at the park did not give a shit. But I was pretty self conscious, I often feel like I'm just gonna get in the way or something, it's... not helpful thinking. And you know, sometimes I have good days and I don't care at all... and some days I have days like today. But I pushed through it.

The woman was short, blond, very thin. Like... almost concerningly thin. And had a lot of tattoos, including a face tattoo. This wasn't the first time I saw a face tattoo in person, but the first time I saw a decent sized one, and on a female. And it was a new experience. I'll put it that way for now and elaborate in a minute. She complimented my grip tape and I said "thank you, I did it myself." And she seemed genuinely blown away, like she legit didn't believe me. And I was like, "yeah, I did," and then said, "I'm a professional artist." I really don't know why I keep adding in the word professional. From the second I got home I've been trying to convert kicking myself over that into... "it would make me feel more comfortable if I dropped the 'professional' part. I can just say I'm an artist, that's fine." It's always the little things that get you caught up, right?

She immediately asked if I had an Instagram. I was literally going to post my progress photos of making the grip tape before leaving, and I decided not to so I could get more skate time. She gave me her phone and had me add myself to her Instagram. The whole thing was just, so goddamn alien to me. Just having another human speak to me, let alone a female around my age, let alone a human in person in close proximity to me, and having an actual conversation... it was just... I got really "what do I do with my hands" pretty quick. But that was a cool moment, it meant a lot to me.

However... yep, there's always a however... my anxiety was on the prowl today. And what I'm realizing... it's not a fun realization, but it's important. Some of the most important are the least fun, I'm starting to notice. Anxiety is... judgement. It kinda has to be, right? Like... anxiety is a defense mechanism put in place to keep you safe, right? So... what anxiety does is scan the information it's receiving and... forms a judgement of whether that is safe or a threat. Information = speaking in front of 1000 people. Anxiety = you might screw up, you might do bad, people will laugh, people will emotionally hurt you because of that. Reaction = piss yourself and avoid. So, anxiety functions as an intermediary step between information gathering and reaction. And it is quite literally a step where you are judging and categorizing info based on your past experiences.

So... what I saw was... a super thin girl, like gaunt-in-the-cheeks thin, with a face tattoo and... a big scar on her shoulder. And my anxiety reminded me that I'm in a city now. And flashed back to last summer when my highschool "best friend" told me vivid horror stories - I mean straight out of Trainspotting or Requiem for a Dream horror stories. And flashed back to the last person I met on the side of the road, who was obviously high as fuck. And I got anxious. I was afraid she was a meth head or something. I feel bad for making that snap judgement. And hell, maybe she is, who knows? But like... was it really fair of me to be cautious around her when she had given me no reason to be afraid?

I often feel like a dog that has been adopted from a shelter. Only... I haven't been adopted... I'm just sorta... out here. Alone. Trying to human, somehow. I'm always trying to keep myself safe, at all times. Wow, it's almost like I have PTSD or something, weird...

But yeah, I feel bad about being judgmental. And... despite her being around the same ability level as me... I tried to keep a little distance from her because she was there with a guy. The guy had a buzzed mohawk and was really good. Like... I'm always just in awe when I get to see talented skaters in real life, and I get so intimidated. I really hope to get over that some day. But it's just how things are for now. But I tried to keep my distance from the chick because... I didn't know if they were together and I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. I obviously have pure intentions and I'm just trying to make friends... but yeah. Anxiety can be very convincing.

So... I just kinda went back to skating, doing my thing. I got a lot more comfortable with the FS half cab. I'm really starting to understand it a bit more now. When I try to whip it around, it just does not work. But if I just sorta... pop and hop, and not worry so much about facing forward right away? It works pretty smoothly. But what completely made the trick for me was just facing backwards while I set up. That just made the trick possible.

I did some pretty long boardslides on an old railroad tie that was there. But that thing was sticky as hell, and I'm not brave enough to wax something at a skatepark, honestly. Not that I have wax... I got a bit more comfortable with my nosemanual position, but I'm still figuring it out. I did a few runs of ollie onto a small box and FS 180 off. So yeah, more practice. And I had a good time. I think I was there for a good hour and I was the last one to leave.

When I left, I passed by the couple who were waiting for a ride. The guy and I exchanged our first words saying "have a good one", as I rode by on my hybrid board like some kind of cyberpunk hippie. XD After all that intimidation and "not wanting to upset him", he seemed very nice. Then I was back in bliss-mode riding down the roads with tunes on, carving and cruising. That thing is so much fun to ride, I swear. My only complaint is that my back trucks might be a tad bit too loose, but it keeps me going at a slow pace so its not so bad. And then the couple passed by me again about 2 blocks down, and we all waved at each other. So that was a good vibe to end on.

So the whole like "I was being judgmental and distant and kinda anti-social" self-flagellation didn't really start until well after I got home. And I've been pretty good at keeping it productive. I think a good habit to get into is... instead of going "why did I do ____, that was dumb..." Let me give an example. Introducing myself as a professional artist. I was kicking myself because of that. I don't like it, but when my depression and my anxiety team up... I'm severely outmatched, so... sometimes I don't win. What I'd like to do is... instead of going "why did I introduce myself as a professional artist, I have under 100 followers and she can see that, that's embarrassing," I would like to try... "ooo saying 'professional artist' is a little difficult for me right now, maybe next time I can just say 'artist', that might feel a bit more comfortable." I think that's a much more gentle way of going about it, and it's actually actionable instead of just being harsh and self-disciplinary.

Self-discipline is fucking useless when you don't have context or a plan. It's just punishment for having experienced something. It's useless and harmful. The most important part of any uncomfortable moment like that is... integrating the lesson learned. Focusing on that, rather than dwelling on the mistake portion and laying into yourself, is a really good way to break self-abuse cycles. Not easy to do, but it does good.

So, for example... I was being harsh on myself for judging this chick. Specifically, for judging her because of her scars, which she obviously can't help. And... getting personal (but I mean duh, it's a journal...) - it kinda reminded me of an ex of mine that used to cut herself. And that... was a difficult memory. Let me be super clear here, that association of mine? That's not fair to her. But it's part of what happened for me. And my self-protective centers started screaming "be careful, be aware, you've seen this before, she might self-harm".

Welp. After I got home? I skimmed over her Instagram. And she had X-Rays from a broken collarbone. And I mean fucking shattered. And I just felt so fucking bad. And I was like... I mean, in hindsight, it's hard for me to even understand how I would jump to a conclusion that someone would cut or burn themselves in such a visible and odd location. But... trauma brain does weird shit, and swears it has the best intentions.

So... what I'm struggling to do is find a way to convert that... I mean, it's clear I'm still beating myself up over it and I still feel shameful. But that's not only not healthy, it doesn't lead anywhere. I just beat myself over it until that part of my brain is tired or moves on to something else. That's... not a great way to live life. So... I'd like to actually get a lesson out of this. And I think the lesson is to not judge quite so hastily. Not assume so much.

I think a huge part of that is isolation. A huge part is being alone and having to keep myself safe. And lately I've just been erring super on the side of caution. So... I'm giving myself forgiveness for this, it's been a struggle lately. And if I see her again, I guarantee she will have had zero idea any of that happened. She probably just thought "oh, he just wants to skate," and then went and skated herself.

I just so often feel so compelled to apologize to people for things like this. Because I have so many fears of the judgement of others myself, that I have to brute force through just to take the trash out sometimes. Judgement of my skin condition. Judgement of the unique combination of frankincense, nag champa and dragon's blood that I wear instead of deodorant. Judgement of me being 36 at a skatepark and struggling to ollie on a 8" box. Judgement of be having AirPods and a hybrid board. The things that some people (like me) would go "holy shit, that's really cool!" (remember, that's a judgement too...) That force has kept me in isolation for a long time. And the more that stuff like this happens? The more I realize that those judgmental anxiety fantasies? They live in my head. That hyper-judgmental force... lives inside of me.

It lives in other people, too. Sure. Don't get me wrong. The "former friend" I was talking to the other day was being super judgmental of entire demographics based merely on... a font. Which... ironically... was the exact demographic he was from... He was ripping on "fake blue collar" people, who don't even know how to use tools and shit... and I was just... it took everything in my power to not be like... "dude, I have met your parents and been to your childhood home that was in the suburbs! I've lived here way longer than you have and I've only lived here since I was 11!" And it started to hit me. And I bet this is like... a thing, you know? Projection... right?

To find something repulsive or terrifying in others, outside of ourselves... but it's really the repulsive or terrifying thing within us. And despite me often being compulsively compassionate, I often find myself being harshly judgmental. Not nearly as much as the past, and not even a fraction of a shadow of my parents... but it's there, and it showed its ugly face today. And honestly? I'm not sure how to manage it.

Because being judgmental? Profiling people? It can keep you alive. It can help you read a situation where, otherwise, you would've gotten mugged. But being in survival mode 24/7 is no way to live, and no way to build any form of relationship. Be it a partnership, a friendship, or even an acquaintanceship.

So yeah, a lot of thoughts today. But the big things of the day - finished the grip tape (phase one), finished the beads, strung the suncatcher, and posted a photo time-lapse of the grip tape to Instagram. With music I wrote in the spring, too. Finally found use for all those random riffs I write. Time lapses, social media videos.

So yeah, feeling a big sense of accomplishment. So... I'm going to actually let myself feel that for a minute because I'm realizing... I've kinda just been turning all of this into a life lesson and I haven't really taken time to celebrate victories here. I met two new people, and they could very well turn into new friends if they frequent the park and live nearby. I finished the mandala on my grip tape. I finished the beads. I did some circus act stringing a rig on my ceiling hook. I posted one of my art pieces in a public forum. I got a lot done, and I should really be proud of that.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

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digital-cameras-singapore · 2 years

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Turn Your iPhone Into This Alternative 3D ‘Camera’ for Portraits

Thinking outside of the box can often result in interesting creations being made. Here’s what happens when you repurpose an old iPhone for a glitchy photoshoot. YouTuber and creator Scott Yu-Jan is back once again with another creation that may just inspire many photographers out there. This time, Yu-Jan attempts to use Apple’s front-facing sensors in Face ID to make portraits of his…

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oswincoleman · 2 years

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Jenna Coleman advent calendar

4th of December

Jenna Coleman and Matt Smith in a promotional photoshoot for the 2012 Doctor Who Christmas special, "The Snowmen"

(How large was the apple box Jenna was standing on for taking this picture?)

#jenna coleman #jenna louise coleman #advent calendar #jenna coleman advent calendar #christmas #doctor who #clara oswald #matt smith #11th doctor #the snowmen #christmas special #doctor who christmas special #clara oswin oswald

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wistful-giselle · 2 years

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a midwinter diary ♡ (boxing day) :

my morning was spent in woodland, bleak with white december light. I passed a tree dense with stray offerings from the winter solstice - spiced apple slices and the face of the green man carved into clay. raindrops like pearls hung silent and perfect on bare branches and holly leaves.

december is a month for food, foremost. watching the nutcracker ballet on tv while baking a yule log (dusting on icing sugar to replicate snow), building a gingerbread house for it to fall to ruins within the hour, heating mulled wine on the stove - cauldron-like - with cinnamon sticks and orange slices. several trips to fortnum and mason’s to gather up sugared almonds and rose petals. chocolate coins for breakfast on christmas morning.

it is also a month for candlelight, always, until it gutters and the wax pools over onto tablecloth. for singing carols in medieval churches and pausing mid-song to listen to the sound swelling and echoing round the walls. for christmas markets and ice skating and haunting galleries - returning again for a painting you can’t forget.

I can no longer leave the house without my white earmuffs and cable knit wrist warmers. I dress in all white - a veritable snow angel - with pearls dripping from my eyes and neck and silver rings on every finger and a ribbon around my neck. uncannily, i match the antique victorian doll i found a few weeks ago. I covet her little cream boots and bloomers.

other lovely life details - tarot themed wrapping paper, gingerbread incense, a book on lover’s eyes, dinner parties, endless creative projects (magazines, photoshoots, editing…)... there is a well of melancholy within me that sighs, makes itself known, from time to time. I flicker in between light and shadow. I find comfort in the fact that i can always find beauty, regardless. ♡

#this was SO requested my lord... <3 #i missed writing these too... bully me about it more often~#diary #mine #christmas #winter

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years

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that makes four.

story page | talk to me + join the tag list

PART 4

Tristan had slapped his menu shut before you could even sit down. He’d been begging you to try a new place in Encino with him, you figured it was a good excuse to get Zoey out of the house and to let Maeve and CeCe duke it out in Shelli and Irv’s backyard instead of yours.

It was all work talk at first, he offered an update on a meeting you missed to drop off Maeve at a friend’s and Zoey sucked down a glass of wine promising to pump and dump before the night ended.

But now your plates were in front of you and you twirled spaghetti around your fork when she asked: “How’s your pool boy?” You stared up at her, unimpressed.

“He’s not my pool boy, and he’s fine.”

Tristan raised his eyebrows across the table. “Would you let Harry Styles be your pool boy?”

“Can we not talk about him like this, please?”

“Oh come on,” Tristan pulled a face. “If you’re not going to sleep with him at least let us fantasize.”

You must have twitched, a quick glance in Zoey’s direction or a quiver of your lip. Zoey leaned in and her voice was serious. “What was that?”

“What? Nothing.”

“What do you mean what was that?” Tristan asked.

“She made a weird face when you said that.”

“No I didn’t,” you defended. “I just don’t like talking about him in public, especially like this.”

“Bullshit,” Zoey laughed, leaned back in her chair. “What are you not telling us? Did you see him shirtless again?”

You let out a breath, wiped at your mouth and wondered if telling them would be the biggest mistake of your life. You couldn’t even get the words out before Zoey leaned in.

“You had sex with him?!” her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, Tristan’s fork clanked against his plate when his jaw dropped open.

You’d made it a whole week, almost. You pushed the thoughts down and brushed them under the metaphorical work rug. The body wash prototypes were in, you were booking models to do a photoshoot, video shoot, everything was getting lined up for the rollout in another few weeks. You didn’t have time to tell them about something silly and stupid and maybe a part of you didn’t want to fill them in because you were afraid they’d burst your bubble. It’ll never work out, what happens when his house is ready, he has a tour to go on.

“Be quiet,” you looked around and worried if anyone had overheard Tristan’s not-so-subtle name drop. “It’s not a big deal, okay? It’s not like it’s gonna be a regular thing.”

Tristan pulled his head back, offended by your words. “You had sex with him and you’re not going to make that a regular thing? Have you seen him?”

“Yes,” you made a face at Tristan. “I have seen him.”

“You are going to hit and quit Harry Styles?” Zoey leaned in and said his name much more quietly now.

“Well,” you dropped their gaze for a second, reluctant to be honest with them in fear of their reaction. “It’s happened once, and then we kissed once but CeCe came down, but she didn’t see anything. I’m just too old to be hooking up with a twenty-four year old.”

“Wait, okay, slow down. When did this happen?” Zoey asked.

“After my birthday dinner,” you shrugged. “We came home, had wine, the girls were out.”

“And when did you make out with him aside from that night?”

“The next night. And we didn’t make out, it was barely even open-mouthed.”

“Ew,” Tristan grimaced.

Zoey snapped to get your attention. “So twenty-four hours after you had sex, you kissed him?”

You made a face at her, unsure where she was going with it. You hadn’t been clocking or documenting your sexual encounters. “I don’t know, probably.”

“This is straight out of a trashy romance book written for middle aged women,” Tristan leaned back in his seat and took a pull from his glass of rosé. “I mean that in, like, a nice way.”

“Okay,” Zoey leaned forward. “So, nothing has happened since a week ago, then?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly. “Just those times. And I don’t think anything should happen again.”

They both groaned at the same time, Zoey’s shoulders sunk and she rolled her eyes. “You deserve to have sex with a hot guy.”

“I never said I didn’t.”

“Even if he’s younger than you.”

“I don’t want to traumatize my children.”

“Well you don’t have to have sex in front of them,” Tristan made a goofy face and you waved him off.

Zoey snorted out a laugh but you ignored their immaturity.

“I mean that having Harry here is already probably confusing for them, right? Their dad leaves, their grandpa dies, now we have some stranger in our house and he’s playing with them in the backyard and--”

“Being more of a dad to them than Luke ever was?”

Zoey’s words brought a sigh out from between your lips. “Exactly.”

“Having a positive male role model is good for them,” Tristan said.

“Sure,” you nodded. “But what about when Harry moves out? He’ll just be another man that will leave them. They’ll be super fucked up.”

Tristan reached forward and took your hand in his. “Hey--it’s more about the fact that they have you and they have other people who love them. Who cares if their idea of a family isn’t the stereotypic, heterosexual norm?”

“I know,” you relented. “I just don’t want them to be poorly adjusted.”

“Okay, that sounds like something an obnoxious prep school guidance counselor would say to you,” Zoey eyed you with skepticism.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It was Maeve’s teacher.”

“Okay, fuck that teacher!” Tristan nodded. “Your kids are adjusting, and that’s because of how good of a mom you are to them. And mommy deserves a pool boy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if his words were worthy of an eye-roll. Zoey tried not to let wine drip from her nose after a snort escaped between sips.

“Not my pool boy!” You giggled.

“Which is good,” Tristan nodded, his tone completely serious. “That would be so cliché even Nora Roberts wouldn’t write it.”

Slumber parties always made you anxious. They were one of those things that made you question how on earth people trusted you to watch a group of children when sometimes, you still felt like one yourself.

Maeve’s 11th birthday party was no exception. Five other girls danced around your living room and CeCe sat at the counter while you iced cupcakes. Her little face was scrunched into a pout so intensely that it almost made you giggle.

“You alright?” You asked her, dish towel over your shoulder when she let out another sigh.

“Just wish I could play with them,” she held her palms towards the sky in exasperation, reaching for a container of sprinkles when you let out a laugh.

“You get to go for ice cream with Uncle Jeff, remember? You’re gonna go to the beach, too, I think.”

You’d been trying to bribe her all week: a new tutu, a new doll, anything she wanted just to make her give up and accept the fact that her older sister didn’t want her at her slumber party.

And you couldn’t blame either of them. Of course Maeve didn’t want her younger (and very loud, dramatic, and demanding) younger sister trailing behind all night. But, on the other hand, of course CeCe felt left out when she saw all of the older girls arrive with their sleeping bags and birthday gifts.

She sighed again, your conversation interrupted by a ringing from your cell phone on the counter beside her.

“Uncle Jeff?”

She was right, you reached for the phone and held it up with your shoulder, hoping the laughter from the living room wouldn’t travel it’s way into the speaker.

“Hi--are you here?”

“Y/N, I am so sorry to do this--”

“Oh god, Jeff, no!”

“I just got called into the office because one of my artists apparently just posted some stupid shit on the internet--isn’t there someone else who can hang out with CeCe? Where’s Tristan?”

“I don’t know where he is, but I doubt he’d be thrilled to play dress up or skip through a park.”

“Zoey?”

You could hear traffic through his line, his karma for backing out at the last minute was having to sit on the 405. “She has a ten-week-old infant, Jeffrey.”

“Well where’s Harry? Can’t he pitch in?”

You let out a groan, CeCe had taken to pouring sprinkles into her hand and lapping them up with her tongue.

Harry was upstairs, hiding away from the girl gang currently singing karaoke and sipping on juice boxes. He had the day off and had dipped out in the afternoon to meet a friend for lunch. You tried to mind your own business--he could come and go as he pleased and just because you had slept with him once didn’t give you the right to suddenly start asking questions about his plans.

But the universe pitied you, apparently, because right when you told Jeff you’d figure it out and hung up on him aggressively, Harry pranced down the stairs and headed for the fridge.

“How’s it going down here?” He reached for a juice box, crisp apple, and fumbled with the straw when he turned to face you.

“Everyone is alive and nothing is broken,” you scanned the counter, another batch of cupcakes still in the oven with 10 minutes to go.

With the straw now between his lips, he raised his eyebrows. “Bar’s that low, huh?”

“Well, your friend Jeffrey just bailed on watching CeCe and going for ice cream.”

She was blissfully unaware of the change of plans, still licking sprinkles out of her palm, but now swiveled around on the stool to watch the girls jump around in the other room.

“I can take her,” he shrugged nonchalantly, ran a hand through his hair when you stared at him for a second.

If traffic was Jeff’s karma, Harry must have been yours.

“Are you serious? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all,” he smiled. “CeCe? What do you say we do ice cream and pizza?”

She turned around at the sound of her name, her eyes lit up. “Pepperoni?” She asked.

“Of course,” Harry replied to her like it was a crazy question.

“Is Uncle Jeff coming?”

“He’s not,” You informed her, arms crossed over your chest. “You’re alright to go with Harry?”

You didn’t mean to make it awkward, but mom mode kicked in and you realized CeCe had never spent time alone with Harry except maybe in the backyard.

“Yeah!” She hopped down from the stool and grinned up at him. “Can I get a milkshake?”

Harry looked over to you and when you nodded, he held out his hand. “As many as you want.”

“That’s not what I said,” you called after him, watching as he led her over to the back door. He plucked his keys off the hook on the wall and smiled at you over his shoulder. “Please don’t be out late, text me when you get where you’re going!”

CeCe shouted a bye mommy!!!! before they disappeared into the driveway. A sudden raise in your pulse had you questioning what type of mother lets their 6-year-old get in the car with a pop star who’s probably hounded by paparazzi and maybe even doing cocaine on the weekends.

You picked up your phone and it rang four times before Zoey answered. “I need you to talk me off the ledge.”

“What ledge?”

The timer beeped and you gloved up to retrieve the rest of the cupcakes. “I’m apparently a psychopath because I just let Harry take CeCe for pizza and ice cream.”

You could tell she held back a laugh. “Why does that make you a psychopath?”

“Because he’s a stranger! What if he never comes back with her? What if he gets chased by paparazzi and CeCe is the next Princess Diana?!” The thought shuttered through your bones, a shiver down your spine when Zoey cleared her throat.

“Okay, so, as a mom, I totally get that. But I also think you’re freaking out too much.”

The cupcake tin rattled onto the granite. “How?!”

“He’s not a stranger, he’s been living with you guys for like, over a month now.”

You thought about it for a second. Two weeks turned into a few more, four weeks slipped by easily. What felt like it was going to be a blip on the radar now felt like a totally normal thing: dinners with him as the fourth seat and texts to him in the middle of the day asking if there was anything he was in the mood for.

“I just can’t believe I trust him enough to do that, I guess.”

“Y/N, he’s a good guy,” she laughed. “He likes your kids and he definitely likes you.”

“We’re not going there,” you said. “I have a house full of ten-year-olds and cupcakes to frost.”

“Okay, well, you’re not a psychopath. And there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for him.”

“Zoey! You are starting to sound like the psychopath!”

“I’m alright with that,” laughter through the phone when you told her you had to go. Love you, see you later, pinch Benny’s cheeks for me.

You were swept up in the excitement of the night. Your own pizza was delivered before 8pm, a movie turned on by 9pm. They decorated cupcakes at the dining room table and proceeded to eat more than they could fit in their tummies.

Maeve was in heaven, opened presents when you snapped pictures on your phone. Harry had texted to let you know they’d stop at Shelli and Irv’s before heading home. If CeCe came home in the middle of presents, she’d probably break down right there.

So when you heard the alarm signal a new entry, you hoped CeCe was too tired to argue with you about sleeping in her own room and not in Maeve’s with the rest of them. Your legs were folded beneath you on the couch, noise in the kitchen when Harry rounded the corner with CeCe asleep on his shoulder.

You stood up, eyebrows high when he smirked in your direction. “She’s out cold,” he laughed. “Fell right asleep on the way home.”

“It’s like a ten minute drive from their house,” you said, opening your arms to take her. “Sorry, here.”

“I can bring her up...just lead the way,” he motioned with his head for you to go first up the stairs. He followed you down the hall and to CeCe’s room, pink walls and a plush carpet underneath her twin-sized bed that still seemed too big for her.

He put her down when you flipped on a nightlight, watched when you tugged the duvet over her and kissed her on the forehead. You sighed when you stood up straight beside him, voice quiet. “I’m not waking her up to brush her teeth cause she’ll freak out and want to be included in the party. Am I a bad mom?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, smirked down at you quickly before looking back to her. “You’re a great mom.”

You elbowed him in the ribs playfully. “You have to say that.”

“I do?”

“I’m your landlord,” you laughed, leading him back into the hallway.

“I thought you were my friend?”

A sigh, the darkness a cover for your confusion and your fluttering heart beat. “Yeah, that too.”

He was quiet for a second, if it weren’t for the bedroom of kids down the hall you’d pull him into you despite better judgment. He stared down at you with a dimpled smile, but you took a step back.

“Thanks for taking her, and hanging out with her. You really didn’t have to.”

“I had fun,” he reassured you. “We got a pizza and ate in a park near Westwood Hills, then got ice cream, visited with Shelli and Irv,” he listed it off like it brought him as much joy as it did her.

“Hey, not to be weird or anything, but--how’s your house coming?”

He sensed the shift in the air too, but he didn’t know that it came from a place of fear. A question you had to ask: this was temporary, this wasn’t real, this was just a convenient set up and you couldn’t lose sight of that.

“Oh, yeah--I’m going over on Sunday to see it. Apparently there are still issues with the plumbing that have to be updated. They said it might be a few more weeks.”

“Okay, I just didn’t know.”

“Yeah, is that okay? I can try to find somewhere to stay if you need me out?”

“No,” you said it quickly. “I don’t need you to leave.”

“Okay,” he said, his eyes still on yours. He reached forward to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “I like staying here with you guys.”

“...I like it too.”

“Mom?” Maeve’s head poked out of her bedroom. “Hayley spilled soda on the carpet!”

He stepped back from you quickly, like his reflexes were getting better each time. You laughed at his sudden movement, “coming!”

He smiled down at you and let out an exaggerated sigh once Maeve’s door was slammed shut and the music was back on, a magnetic pull between your chests that maybe he felt too. “Hayley, Hayley, Hayley.”

But again, a rush of uncertainty and self-doubt made you grateful for the interruption, your stomach weaving itself in knots when you stared at your ceiling fan and hoped that sleep would come.

Work picked up in the next week, Tristan was in your office most days with spreadsheets and graphs and to-do lists that made you feel like you needed a margarita at 2pm. On Wednesday Harry made dinner and CeCe had a meltdown when you forced her to take a bath.

Friday night entailed dinner at Shelli and Irv’s, the girls and Harry and Jeff too. You stood in the kitchen with a glass of wine in hand, Shelli watched as their chef sautéed something through steam. When Jeff pulled Harry away to show him a new guitar Irv had been gifted, you ignored the smile on Shelli’s face.

“How are things going?”

“Fine,” you said, casually and calm and cool. “How are you?”

“Y/N,” she smiled. “Does Jeffrey know?”

“Know what?”

“About you and Harry?”

“No,” you told her quickly. “There’s nothing to know, alright? We were drunk, it was not a big deal.”

“Alright,” she held up a hand, effectively resigning when she sipped her Pinot Grigio, a disappointed sigh before she asked: “How are the girls holding up?”

You sighed, unsure if she’d really drop it. You told her about Maeve’s birthday party and caught her up on the body wash debut. Deadlines were quickly approaching, the launch party was being scheduled and production was full steam ahead.

You almost thought you’d make it through the rest of the night without any drama--no more mention of Harry or the happenings between you. But eventually he and Jeff found their way back to the kitchen and you hoped that no one noticed how close Harry stood to you.

Jeff was in the middle of filling you and Shelli in on Harry’s album plans: they were wrapping up production and soon they’d announce the release date, his excitement cut off by a shout from the backyard.

“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice was shrill and desperate as it rang through the house. She let out a loud sob and when you looked up, you saw her clutching her elbow with a new grass stain on her shirt. She was fine, it was one of those moments where she thought the world was ending but everyone else knew getting knocked over by her sister wouldn’t kill her.

“She’s fine,” Maeve rolled her eyes, a quick look down to CeCe who’s eyes were already filled with tears.

“No I’m not!” she screamed back at her sister.

You looked to Shelli with an exasperated look, set your glass of wine down on the counter. Before you could make any movement, though, Harry’s hand hovered on the small of your back. “I’ll go, enjoy the wine. She’s fine.”

He was right, there was no question that CeCe would survive her scraped elbow and bruised ego. He moved towards the backyard and you were frozen in place when Jeff’s forehead wrinkled.

“What was that?” he asked, eyebrows strung together like tea lights once Harry was out of earshot.

“I don’t know--what do you mean?”

You looked over at Harry, now on the ground in front of CeCe who’s wails were much quieter. She wiped at her wet eyes, a little laugh escaped her lips when Harry brushed the grass off of her elbow and cracked a joke.

“Well, he seems pretty good with them,” Jeff leaned against the counter, the sliding door providing a perfect view as CeCe stood up and raced back towards Maeve.

“Yeah, I mean, he is.”

“He also touched your back in a funny way.”

Shelli raised her eyebrows and sipped at her wine again.

“And now my mom is making a weird face,” Jeff’s eyes narrowed when he looked at you. “Are you--is there, like, something going--”

“No,” you said quickly, a finger pointed at Shelli and another pointed at Jeff. “Do not say anything in front of the girls.”

Shelli stifled a laugh but managed to look incredibly innocent at the same time.

“Oh my god!” Jeff said this with a noise of shock, eyes wide when he looked between you and Shelli, then back out to the yard where Harry laughed with Irv. “Oh my god, and you knew?”

Shelli shrugged her shoulders, a don’t blame me look crossed her face when you took a swig of wine to calm the pounding of your heart.

Jeff had always been protective and caring and like a brother. Not in a weird way, not in the you can’t date my friends way. Just in the sense that he wanted to know who you were hooking up with and he’d been encouraging you relentlessly to stop picking assholes ever since you filed for divorce.

But this was different, this was a friend of his and a client of his. It was someone that his entire family knew and this was probably the worst choice of rebound.

“Please relax,” you said this with a look of warning in his direction. “I will explain to you what your lunatic mother is smirking about but you have about fifteen seconds to wipe the look of shock off your face before he comes back in here.”

“She’s fine,” Harry waved a hand once he was back in the kitchen. “And what look of shock are we wiping off of our faces?” The dimple was there again, the corner of his mouth pulled up and he scanned all three of you for any sort of information.

“Just that you are so good with the girls,” Jeff covered for you, a confident nod when he hoped Harry would believe him.

“That’s surprising to you?” Harry pulled his head back, an obvious look of mock offense. “I’m great with children. They love me.”

Maeve came in from the fading light, out of breath from running around with whatever ball they’d gotten their hands on. “Who loves you?”

“Kids,” Jeff replied for him.

“Oh,” Maeve said. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” You looked down at her, unsure if she was agreeing or just voicing that she understood.

She shrugged, plucked a chicken skewer from a dish in front of Shelli. “I mean, I like having him around.”

Harry was practically tickled pink. “Thank you, Maeve.” He turned to rub this in Jeff’s face. “See?”

“He cooks well, plays outside with us, definitely funnier than mom,” Maeve kept listing things off, pulling laughter from the rest of the crew.

“Maeve!” You whined. “I’m funny!”

“You’re like, sometimes funny.”

“Sometimes funny is better than never funny,” Harry nodded in your direction, an attempt to soften the blow.

CeCe had wandered in behind her sister, she picked at the scrape on her elbow until you called her attention. “CeCe--do you think mommy’s funny?”

“Mmmm,” the thought on it for a second, put her finger to her chin and scrunched up her nose. “Sort of.”

Jeff let out a big laugh at that, Harry tried to stifle one and you dismissed the jabs. “Okay, well, it’s not like anyone here is a comedian.”

“Harry’s funny,” CeCe said with a smile. “He reads books in silly voices.”

Jeff’s eyebrows shot up at that again, amused and surprised by the fact that Harry was in on the bedtime routine. But it was infrequent, sometimes CeCe would beg for more time outside or another thirty minutes of TV.

If the tears got aggressive or the tantrum became too much, she perked up pretty quickly if Harry offered to read with her. It was way more exciting than reading with you, Maeve had explained.

After showering Harry with compliments, the girls were excited to sit on Shelli and Irv’s patio. Pink lemonade and a delicious dinner, though neither of them would even so much as take a bit of your salad.

They ran around some more while you sipped wine, Jeff and Harry had been talked into a two versus two soccer match and Irv laughed his head off when Maeve actually scored on Jeff. Darkness came and CeCe crawled into your lap, eyelids getting heavy until you buckled her into the backseat.

You’d taken one car, CeCe’s booster seat was too clunky to move over to Harry’s so you drove and felt slightly embarrassed about the crayons and coloring books scattered on the floor of the backseat.

“Mom, can I have another sleepover this weekend?”

“With who?”

“All of the girls from last weekend.”

“Honey, no, that was a big party for your birthday.”

“I’m aware,” she shot back quickly. “But we all had so much fun and we wouldn’t be as loud as we were last time.”

“I said no, Maeve. You can do something with your friends if you want but we’re not doing another sleepover right now.”

You’d been hesitant about it in the first place. A group of ten and eleven-year-olds? With Harry in the house? It felt like a recipe for disaster and aside from a few excited stares when they were first dropped off, you all escaped relatively unscathed.

You worried at first about the whispers from other moms--she’s letting a twenty-four year-old live with her children?--but you soon realized that they were almost more excited about sneaking a glimpse of Harry than their daughters were.

“You’re so annoying,” she quipped from the back. “You never let me do anything fun.”

Harry’s lips twitched up in a tiny smirk, a sideways glance in your direction. You’d already told him how awkward it felt to discipline them with him right there, a glass of wine in the kitchen one night and he teased you about your frustrated mom voice.

“Maeve--don’t be rude. You just had a birthday party and now you want another, basically.”

“No, I want to have the same girls over. It’s not my birthday so it’s not a birthday party.”

A left turn into the driveway. “But you want me to order pizza and make cupcakes and you want to drink a bunch of soda again?”

“Yes.”

You pulled into the garage and cut the engine, turning to look at her. “Maeve, sweetie, I love you. But no.”

She let out a huff and shoved the door open, she typed in the entry code and slammed the door to the house before the rest of you could even climb out.

“The drama,” CeCe shook her head, tired steps towards the house.

“The drama is right,” you told her with a laugh. “Go wash up and I’ll come up in a few, okay?”

She scampered up the steps, you dropped your keys on the counter inside and then turned to look at him. “Do you have a second?”

He nodded, leaned on the counter. “What’s up?”

You didn't know if it was a good idea, but you'd spent enough morning drives to school lecturing about how honest is the best policy, so you figured you'd give it a shot.

“Uh, well--Jeff may or may not be suspicious about you and...me.”

Using the phrase made you nervous, like he’d laugh and think it was stupid. You and me.

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows arched. “Did you--why did that come up?”

“Well you went to handle my crying child, which is--you know--”

He laughed a little, “too boyfriendy of me?”

Your heartbeat picked up in pace, your face felt hot and it suddenly felt like he was watching you too closely.

“No--I don’t know--you touched my back and he just asked what was happening.”

He deflated at that, hung his head low for a second and then looked up. “Oh, I--uh--I’m really sorry, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“No!” You felt bad, that wasn’t the message you were trying to convey. If anything, you wanted to give him the out and the okay that he didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to step into your family like some hero for you or your daughters. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I just--I don’t know where you are at, I guess.”

“And now Jeff is asking questions,” he laughed, a nod like he knew where you were going with it.

There was no label necessary. It wasn’t that type of thing, you knew that. “That’s what you walked in on after CeCe got hurt.”

Another nod, like the puzzle pieces were fitting into place. “Right. Got it. Was he--how did he seem? Did you tell him that we--”

“He put it together,” you cut him off, again careful of the words used around the girls even though they were upstairs and--by the sound of it--bickering in the bathroom. “But he was fine with it. I just think we need to be careful, you know. The girls...and this is temporary, and--”

“Absolutely.”

“So, you know, just--”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence. “I should go tuck them in.” You turned on your feet and headed for the stairs before he could reply, desperate to get out of the situation out of fear of having to find more words to string together in a messy jumble of emotions.

Another slammed door from Maeve when you reached the top of the stairs. You knocked twice. “Can I come in, please?”

“No!”

“Maeve,” you leaned against the doorframe. Harry came up and offered an awkward smile. “Please let me talk to you.”

“I’m not talking to you!” She shouted.

Harry came over and knocked. “Maeve? It’s Harry--can I come in?”

Silence for a second, her footsteps were audible on the wood floor. The door opened a crack, she peered out with narrowed eyes. “Fine--but not her.”

You looked over at Harry, unsure of his game plan but also fed up with the theatrics and the overreaction. He shrugged his shoulders half-apologetically, a smirk in your direction before he slipped into the room.

Did you stay and listen? Was it weird? What would he even say to her?

You decided against it, headed for your own bedroom and tugged on pajamas after you flicked on CeCe’s night light and kissed her goodnight. At least only one of them was being dramatic today.

Five minutes passed, then ten. You tried not to look at the clock and focused instead on a book Zoey had told you was a must read.

Eventually there was a knock on your door, Harry pushed it open and smiled. “Do you want some intel?”

“Duh,” you said. “Come in.”

He walked forward and sat on your bed, a sigh when he brought his eyes to yours again. “Well, she said you’re annoying again.”

“Of course.”

“She’s just grumpy. Said Hayley wanted to have a sleepover this weekend because it would be better at her house.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Some 5th grade rivalry.”

“Classic, really.”

You laughed. “Was she okay talking to you?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyebrows low on his forehead. “Opened right up.”

“Well, we do know she likes you more.”

He rolled his eyes. “She just likes that I’m not you.”

“Feels like that’s the same thing.”

Quiet for a moment when he angled towards you, scanned your face with his eyes.

“I guess I’ll go say goodnight.”

“Oh, I tucked her in.”

Your mouth tugged into a smirk. “You what?”

“She said she didn’t want you to come in.”

“So you tucked her in?”

He let out a laugh, explained the process like it should have been obvious. “Yeah--pulled up the blanket. Patted her on the head. She said she brushed her teeth.”

You leaned back against the headboard, the same buzzing feeling in your chest took flight when he asked: “why is it so shocking to everyone that I’m good with them?”

It slipped out before you could think of the possible consequences. “Because you’re young.”

“I’m not that young.”

“And Luke was just--not like that. He was pretty disinterested after CeCe was born.” You hoped this was enough of a redirection.

“You’re really caught up on my age, aren’t you?”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows and offered a look that said: bullshit. When he didn’t speak, you cracked a joke.

“Or...you are not hung up enough on how old I am.”

“Why should I care how old you are?”

“Cause you’ve had sex with me and you’re living in my house.”

“Both of those things I am aware of. And feel really good about both of them.”

You let out a laugh at his nonchalance, folded your arms over your chest when he stood up. “You’re something else.”

“I’m not,” you disagreed.

“I think you are,” he nodded, leaned closer to you and offered a challenging glare. His hair was messy, he’d been running around in the backyard with them at Shelli and Irv’s, a few glasses of wine in him seemed to loosen him right up to the point that he was ready to slide tackle your six-year-old.

He watched you for a second, almost like he was waiting for you to stop him. You didn’t, though, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as it looked like he wanted to close to the distance between your chests.

Instead of telling him you shouldn’t, instead of telling him that the girls were down the hall and this was risky, you pulled him on top of you, tugged him by the t-shirt until he flopped down on your bed with a laugh against your lips.

He lifted himself up after a clumsy moment, looked down at you and smirked.

“What?” You asked playfully.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on by someone in my whole life.”

His words circled around you, pulled your body up to melt into his when his hand cupped your face. He laced his fingers through the hair along your neck, the warmth from his body made your pulse rise with each second.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this when they’re home?”

If the dimples on his cheeks weren’t enough, if the way his tattoos littered his skin wasn’t enough, if the look in his eyes right now on top of you was not enough to create a full-on mom fantasy in your head, the way he talked about your daughters was.

“Yeah,” you tugged him back against your mouth, felt the way your hips tilted against his without any thought. His hands moved to your wrists, holding them in place when he trailed his lips down your jaw, down your neck, pressing kisses in a line along your collarbone.

His hands were warm when they grazed your hips, connecting with skin beneath the fabric of your shirt. You grasped for the hem of his and tugged it over his head in a quick motion, eager to reconnect and feel his skin against yours.

He tasted like wine and smelled like summer, yanked your panties down to your ankles and used his fingers to pull quiet gasps from you like no one had ever before. He held onto your headboard and thrusted into you after you begged: please, please fuck me.

S’probably my favorite thing to do, he said.

The lights were long off and when your heart beats settled and you wiped sweat from your forehead, he laced his fingers between yours.

“Does Jeff want to kill me?”

“No,” you giggled, turned on your side to get a better look at him. The moon through the window illuminated his nose, his eyebrows, the specks of light green in his eyes as they devoured you. “But I’m sure you’ll get a talking to.”

“Should I not talk to him about it?”

You knew what he was asking, you knew he really meant what am I supposed to tell him? What does this mean?

You didn’t have an answer. You didn’t know what he should say or how you should address any of this, because at the end of the day you were a mom and a business owner and he was eight years your junior. He had an album to finish and tour and you knew how that worked.

You watched your dad’s busy lifestyle pull his marriage apart at the seams. Late nights, dinner parties, too much coke in the 80s before you were born and all of those signs pointed in one direction: this would never last.

It couldn’t last, nothing about the equation made sense. Harry + you = fling, rebound, a hook up or friends with benefits type situation that would eventually fade into a memory when he went on tour or when he got the call: your house is finished!

You didn’t have to answer him, though, the pattering of feet in the hallway as a little voice shouted mommy! had you shoving Harry out of bed and onto the floor with a thud before CeCe could push the double doors open.

“Mommy! I had a bad dream!”

“Hi, honey, oh, it’s okay,” you were upright in bed and welcoming her into your arms when Harry grimaced in the dark.

He mouthed a few swear words as you held CeCe, squishing her face into your shoulder to keep her eyes from landing on Harry. You gestured at him wildly with your free hand, ordering him to duck down and remain unseen.

“It was just a dream,” you told her, “you’re okay. Do you want me to walk you back to bed?”

“No,” she cried out quickly. “Can I sleep here?”

You hesitated, then nodded and looked at Harry in the dark. “Of course, yes, you can fall asleep here and then I’ll bring you back to your room.”

“Okay,” she said, the steadiness of her voice returning when she crawled out of your lap and to the spot where Harry had just been. She tugged at the comforters, pushed the pillow in different directions before she let her head rest atop it.

She let out a sigh, her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks and soon enough Harry poked his head up to look at you with wide eyes as you rubbed CeCe’s back.

You held up a finger to your mouth, gave him a threatening glare when he bit back a laugh. You rolled your eyes--it wasn’t funny. She almost walked in on the two of you and while she’d already endured some traumatic things this year, seeing her mom hooking up with the pop star from down the hall would be sure to take the cake.

When Harry caught your gaze again, you smirked, he giggled, clamped a hand over his mouth and watched you for a second.

“Be quiet!”

“You’re the one talking,” he laughed.

“Well she’s asleep now, but we can’t bring her back yet or she’ll wake up.”

“How long do we have to sit like this?”

“A while,” you told him with certainty. “This is called parenting.”

But he did, he sat on the floor on the side of the bed, watched you watch her and eventually, he picked her up from the mattress and followed you down the hall to her room. She softened into him, head on his shoulder and arms around his neck. The sight of it made you want to replay the earlier scene in your head over and over.

She didn’t stir, a few heavy sighs when you pulled the comforter back up to her shoulders, and once the door was shut behind you both, you smirked up at him.

“I think you should go back to your room.”

“Really? After all of that?”

“After almost getting caught by my six-year-old? Yes.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes playfully, crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine, but maybe we can do that again at some point and have it end differently.”

You nodded. “I think that sounds doable.”

He leaned forward, kissed you quickly, and then turned to head for his own room. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Harry came home from his house tour with good and bad news. The plumbing was fixed, which sped up their timeline, and yet the painters and interior decorator had gotten behind because of it, pushing the timeline out a few weeks.

You weren’t sure which part was good and which part was bad, because by now you were having trouble imagining what your house would feel like without him in it.

You got the news when he strolled in, athletic shorts and a baseball hat on his head when Jeff clapped him on the back. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Harry eyed him suspiciously, reached into the fridge for a juice box. “I live here…”

“Oh, I know you live here.”

“Hello, hi,” you waved at Jeff. “Please do not be weird.”

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Harry offered you a fake-apologetic look.

“That’s all he knows how to be,” Jeff mocked him. “Actually, I know how to be cool and not weird about the fact that my childhood best friend and my adult best friend-slash-artist are now, you know, involved.”

Your stomach did a somersault at his wording, a quick look in Harry’s direction, sure that he would deny the accusation or play it all down.

You found it hard to believe that Harry would be in support of labeling this as anything. Why on earth would a guy like him want to be tied to you with any sort of label or phrasing or word?

“Moving on,” Harry said with a nod. “Are we down to meet up with Tom and Sam tomorrow?”

“Yeah, and we have to do that phone call on Tuesday to go over tour dates.”

Maeve ran in then, a smile on her face when she looked up at Harry. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“I learned a new chord on the guitar. By myself.”

“You did?” He acted way more excited about it than he likely was.

Jeff smiled and then told Maeve: “If you learn enough chords maybe you can be his guitarist.”

“Really?!” She beamed.

“No,” you shook your head.

“Of course you would say that.”

“Maeve--you’re a kid, you can’t go on tour.”

“She’s right,” Harry said with a sweet smile, “You’re a bit too young for life on the road.”

“I’m eleven now, though!”

“I know! And very mature for eleven,” he complimented. “I’ll tell you what. You can for sure come visit and come back stage and maybe even bring a friend if your mother lets you.”

She looked to you quickly, excitement in her eyes when they all waited for your response. “Yeah--we can go at some point...see a show or something.”

“Hayley is going to die, oh my god!” She squealed with delight and then moved to sit at a stool beside Jeff.

He had half a sandwich on a plate, one he picked up on his way over for a boring Sunday afternoon of lounging by the pool. Maeve reached for a chip from the bag in front of him.

“By the way, mom, she invited me over Wednesday after school to work on a project, so can you bring me?”

“I have to bring CeCe to dance, sweetie.”

“Well I need you to bring me to the store to get supplies for this stupid poster-board thing we have to make! And Hayley’s mom said she had a question about Luna--something about a moisturizer or something.”

“I can take CeCe to dance,” Harry shrugged, almost like an onlooker in the room. “S’not a big a deal.”

“Are you sure?”

Jeff and Maeve crunched on chips between you, watching the exchange.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll just need to put her booster seat in my car.”

“And bring her a snack for after--she’s always cranky and hungry.”

He laughed, “I can manage that.”

“What would we do without you, Harry?” Maeve asked, a smile on her face.

Jeff put his chin in his hands, teasing. “Yeah, what would we do without you?”

“No one would get anywhere, people would seriously be missing out on my chicken tacos, and this house would be a lot less fun to live in.”

Maeve nodded in agreement, another chip stolen from Jeff. “True, true, and true.”

A few nights later it dawned on you that Maeve and Harry were as close as ever, spending evenings in your dad’s old office while Maeve tried to wrap her arms around a guitar long enough to strum a few chords.

CeCe didn’t seem to feel too left out, she was more than happy to be an audience for Maeve when she’d come running into the living room: Harry taught me a G chord!

On Tuesday night after school it was CeCe’s idea to go for pizza, she chirped about it in the backseat the entire way home, and after learning that the body wash production was behind schedule, you weren’t in the mood to cook.

You took Harry’s car--showed him how to strap the booster seat in and make sure it wouldn’t budge. He wore a hat and sunglasses which both girls found hilarious, but to you it was almost disheartening. What did it mean for him to be seen out with your family?

He sat beside CeCe and cut her pizza into tiny bites so it would cool off, Maeve sipped Mountain Dew from a straw and filled you in on the latest with Hayley. This week was going well, though Hayley said something annoying in the cafeteria.

It felt normal, not weird for him to be sitting across from you, his feet against yours beneath the table and a smirk in your direction every once in a while.

Both Tristan and Zoey had been dying to hear more details. It slipped out one day in the office that okay...maybe it wasn’t just a one time thing, and now the group chat you had with them was blowing up every day.

They were excited for you, rooting for your comeback and rebound and eager for you to just admit that there was something there. But you weren’t able to do that, especially not when everything in your heart wanted to.

By the time you’d all finished eating, he dipped out the back to pull the car around front. You pointed at Maeve and told her to watch CeCe while you went up to the counter to pay for the pizza.

The woman behind the register smiled when you approached. Long acrylic nails, wrinkles at the corner of her eyes made it obvious that she could have been your mother.

“We had one large plain and one small with pepperoni,” you told her.

“Oh, you’re all set, sweetie, your boyfriend paid on his way out.”

Your head pulled back in surprise. “Oh--he’s--we’re not,”

She let out a laugh at your hesitance. “He was just as taken back when I told him he had a beautiful family--said they're not his, though."

You forced a laugh, if only to match the humor in her voice when you turned on your heels to head back to your booth. The thoughts started spinning when Maeve and CeCe climbed into the back of Harry’s car.

He smiled at you when you slid in, patted you on the thigh before he turned around to make sure both girls were settled--Maeve clicked CeCe’s buckle into place and then he put the car into gear.

Sleeping with Harry was mostly meaningless, right? He was attractive and living in your house and clearly you both got something out of it. Convenient, easy, fun. Most of your brain had you convinced that there’d never be any more to it. There was no way that Harry would be interested in sticking around: two kids, a business to run. You didn’t exactly come with no strings attached.

And he corrected the woman too--not my kids, not my family, not my wife, not my anything. Had she settled on the next step down when she called him your boyfriend, or had he offered the label to avoid an awkward encounter?

It felt immature, your heart beating with urgency as you thought about it the whole way home, beads of sweat along your hairline and not from the warm weather. He sensed it, eyed you from behind his sunglasses when he parked in the driveway. Maeve and CeCe raced to the backyard, leaving the two of you alone.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, all good,” you offered a small smile, the same response you gave to one of the girls if they caught you on a bad day.

He followed you inside, kept his eyes trained on you when you dropped your purse on the counter. “What?”

“You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” you lied again. What were you supposed to say? The woman behind the register at the pizza place is making me question the relationship we have and what it means?

You weren’t 17. You were 32. He was 24. All of these numbers swirled in your head when he took a few steps closer to you, eyes out the window quickly to make sure neither of the girls were watching you through the sliding doors.

He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, lips turned down when he looked over your face. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“I know,” you caught his wrist and held on for a second, like if you let go he’d disappear and take everything between the two of you with him. You closed your eyes, knew better but still said: “the woman behind the counter called you my boyfriend.”

He let out a laugh, unaware that your words were actually a confession. “She called you my wife, said the girls were cute. I told her I couldn’t take credit.”

“Yeah,” you forced another smile.

“Is that--are you, did that bother you?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” he said, eyes still on you like he wasn’t quite sure where your head was at. He pressed a confusing kiss to your forehead but then said something about calling his sister. You checked work emails and night faded into morning like it always did, no matter how uncertain life was, you always had that.

The next afternoon you brought Maeve to Hayley’s, dropped her off with glue sticks and markers and a plethora of project supplies. A yoga class after that, had her home and with dinner on the stove by 6pm.

Eventually, CeCe burst through the door with a smile on her face. Her pink tutu was around her waist, her legs clad in light pink tights and her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head. “I had the greatest time at ballet!”

You turned around in the kitchen, eager to hear about her day. “You did?”

“I did,” she nodded confidently. Harry came in the front door behind her, sunglasses on his face and CeCe’s unicorn backpack in hand. Maeve was sat at the counter with a pencil, growing angrier with fractions by the minute.

“Why’s that?”

“We danced to a fun song, and we played a fun game, and everyone loved Harry!”

Your eyebrows rose at that, eyes caught his when he lifted the sunglasses. “They did?”

“Moms, not the six-year-olds.”

This caught Maeve’s attention--she sounded almost disgusted. “Moms?”

“I guess ballet pick-up is typically a mom thing?”

You shrugged. “I mean--I don’t see a lot of dads there, so yeah.”

CeCe shimmied out of her tutu and then climbed up to a stool beside Maeve. Harry walked to hang her backpack on a hook by the backdoor, you questioned if it was even worth asking.

“Were they, like, hitting on you?”

“I mean, not really.”

“Not really?”

He walked over to the island and leaned on it, the dimple in his left cheek let you know he liked the hint of jealousy in your voice. “Maybe a little.”

Dinner simmered on the stove, evening sun brought a glow to the kitchen that made his eyes even more green than usual. When you didn’t reply he broke your gaze, let out a sigh and said: “I’m going to shower before dinner, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” you nodded quickly, embarrassed by the silliness of your question. Of course the moms were hitting on him, of course they were intrigued by his presence and of course they couldn’t help but say hi or even ask for a photo. It shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest.

He was up the stairs and out of sight quickly, CeCe picked up an extra pencil of Maeve’s and started doodling on her agenda book. You pushed sautéed veggies around in a frying pan and pretended that all of this was normal.

“Hey mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you like Harry?”

You turned around quickly, Maeve’s eyes were inquisitive but not judgmental.

“Do I like Harry? Of course--he’s nice.”

“No, I mean do you like like Harry?”

CeCe didn’t seem too interested in your answer, she hummed to herself and kicked her feet back and forth. Maeve, though, waited patiently while you tried to piece together words that wouldn’t make the roof blow off of your house.

“Harry and I are friends, sweetie.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

You let out a forced laugh. “What is making you ask this?”

“You seemed jealous about the other moms.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you defended. Were you really about to get into it with your eleven-year-old? Would you really defend yourself and make this the hill on which you'd die?

She watched you for a second, looked back down at the worksheet in front of her. “You seemed jealous.”

You were thankful for the fact that she wasn’t making any eye contact now. You let out a sigh and decided that not responding was your best option. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, had it been that obvious? Was she old enough to pick up on the undertones of your relationship?

You turned back to the stove, watched the vegetables sizzle in the pan as your mind started to cave in on itself. All of this was getting out of control, right? First the woman yesterday and the dizziness that overtook you when she said the word boyfriend. Now Maeve sitting at the counter with a curiosity in her that you couldn’t really blame her for.

The doorbell rang, CeCe’s head popped up in excitement. “Who is that?!”

“I don’t know,” you said. She hopped off her stool and took off the door as you followed behind her. You hadn’t planned on a visit from Jeff, maybe Tristan needed last minute approval on a product.

But when CeCe yanked the door open with both hands and an excited smile on her face, you didn’t expect to see Luke, hands in his pockets and eyebrows raised high.

“Daddy!”

“Hi sweetie,” he knelt down on one knee, wrapped his arms around her when Maeve made a noise of excitement before rushing over. She crashed into him, pushing her way into their hug.

“What are you doing here?” she asked excitedly.

“I wanted to visit, I was in the neighborhood,” he said with a shrug, eyes glancing up to you.

It was bullshit, he’d always been good at talking his way out of things or coming up with an explanation, smile sweet and words even sweeter. He backed away from them when they let go, stood back up and smiled at you, a quick nod in greeting.

“How’ve you been?”

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