#i am AGONIZING over the color of his shirt BYE

[clumsyclifford]

hello bella’s ask box it’s been a min damn.

so the vibes are fucking everywhere w the music in the lab today so i’ve mostly been ignoring it but then unforgettable by thomas rhett started playing and my brain was immediately like This Is a Fic Song

more importantly it is a Bella Fic Song

last time you not so subtly wanted me to prompt u w w thomas rhett song you told me to do that here so i am back again w another song from ur boy

okay i def snuck out just to send this so i gotta go now but this felt important laksdjdld

ok ily bye 💛

hi sam :)

so.................... i was stuck on what to write you for your birthday fic. you sent me this ask prompting me with a thomas rhett song that i had literally been meaning to write a fic based on for almost a full year. the puzzle pieces just aligned REALLY nicely on this one.

happy birthday, my love. there's gonna be a LOT more sappy shit in the ao3 notes, but please know that my life is irreversibly changed for the better because i met you. i am dangerous close to sounding like glinda from wicked and i really want you to get to READ this fic so please see ao3 for more schmaltz. i love you so much.

tw for alcohol

read here on ao3

-

Every life has a moment that imprints on memory like ink on a fresh page. The kind of moment that permanently alters the trajectory of that life, that marks the ending of one chapter and the beginning of another. Some people are lucky enough to have more than one. Some people’s minds are laden with crystallized memories. But there’s always at least one. One completely unforgettable moment.

For Jack, this moment happens twenty-four minutes after he enters the club.

Twenty-three minutes after he enters the club, Zack returns with his and Jack's second beers and says, "There's some guy at the bar who's totally your type."

"Yeah?" Jack cranes his neck, but he can't quite see the bar from where he is. "My type how? Not just 'lonely and drunk,' right? My standards have gotten higher, you know."

Zack hands Jack his beer. "He's cute and he's wearing a One Direction shirt, and I'm pretty sure he's drinking a margarita.”

"Oh shit," Jack says. "That checks all my boxes."

"I know it does," says Zack, winner of the Wingman Of The Decade award. He claps Jack on the shoulder. Jack sidesteps people until he gets eyes on the bar and scans for a cute guy in a One Direction shirt drinking a margarita.

Twenty-four minutes after Jack enters the bar, he sees Alex.

And everything changes forever.

*

"Woah," Jack says. His gut is feeling weird and it’s probably unrelated to the beer and a half under his belt.

"What?"

"The guy at the bar," Jack says, grabbing Zack's arm. "Zack. You grossly undersold my future husband to me."

"Your future husband?" Zack sounds amused, but Jack isn't kidding.

"Remember this moment," he says seriously, giving Zack a sloppy pat on the bicep before moving away from him, towards the bar, towards the cute guy with the One Direction shirt who's making Jack understand clairvoyance. "Remember this so you can tell the story at our wedding!"

"Your wedding," Zack repeats.

"Our fucking wedding!" Jack insists, more loudly as space and drunk people fill the growing gap between him and Zack. Zack just gives him a good-luck-and-godspeed wave.

Seconds later, Jack is at the bar.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

The cute guy in question looks up, surprised. Jack practically reels. It's a miracle people aren't flocking to this guy; he's not just cute, he's gorgeous. Bleach-blond hair — clearly from a bottle, which somehow Jack finds more attractive — flops over his forehead in a stubborn commitment to the emo fringe that died out a decade ago, and long lashes frame brown eyes that rival the glossy chestnut color of the bar. Add the five o'clock shadow and the sharply angled jaw and Jack's speechless.

Fortunately it's not his turn to speak. "I have a drink," says the guy, who is rapidly progressing from Cute Guy At Bar to Possible Soulmate At Bar. He quirks a smile. Jack's done for. "I'll buy you a drink, though."

Jack sets his partially-drunk beer on the bar top and slides it as far as he can reach. "Okay," he says.

Possible Soulmate laughs. He slides his margarita away from him, too, pushing it into the space of another person sitting down the bar. "Touché. Okay, you can buy me a drink."

"Well, hey, I don't want you to waste yours," Jack says reasonably. He retrieves his beer and then Possible Soulmate's drink. "I'll get the next one."

Possible Soulmate smiles. Jack is going to need his name eventually. "I appreciate your commitment to environmentally-friendly consumption of alcohol."

Jack blinks. "Yeah," he says. "That was a lot of big words, but sure. No problem. I'm Jack, by the way."

"Alex." Alex. Jack can see the wedding invites now.

"Nice to meet you," Jack says. "I like your shirt."

Alex glances down out of instinct as the wide collar of the shirt slips over his shoulder. "Thanks," he says with a chuckle, and looks up at Jack. "I like yours."

With great effort, Jack tears his gaze from Alex's shoulder and the hint of collarbone peeking out, but he would like it on the record that it is tremendously difficult. Fortunately he already knows what shirt he's wearing because he'd agonized over it for several minutes longer than Zack's patience ran, shortly before going out.

"Yeah, Kurt Cobain," he says, nodding with probably too much enthusiasm. "I'm a lead singer guy."

"Really?" Alex tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. "Meaning what?"

"I go for the lead singer types," Jack explains. "Kurt Cobain, Billie Joe Armstrong, you know." He nods at Alex's shirt. "Harry Styles."

"Harry Styles wasn't—" Alex breaks off and snorts. "Eh, whatever. Who cares."

"Wait," Jack says. "Hold the phone. Did you fucking cross out Zayn's face?"

Alex looks down at his shirt again like maybe he'll have forgotten what it looks like. "Oh, my friend did that. But now the shirt is factually accurate."

"If you wanted an accurate shirt you'd have to cross them all out since none of them are in the band anymore," Jack observes.

Alex slowly smiles. "I guess."

"I always liked Zayn," Jack says wistfully. "His solo shit is so good, though."

"It's good," Alex says, kind of in the tone of voice of someone who doesn't really agree but doesn't want to get into it, so Jack leaves it be. They can poll their wedding guests. "I'm really digging Niall's solo shit."

"That's an extremely acceptable answer," Jack says, nodding vigorously. In the moment it slips his mind that he's holding a beer and the liquid begins to slosh out of its container. "Oh shit, fuck, sorry."

"Didn't get me," Alex says, passing Jack a napkin. "Couple too many, I get it."

"What?" Jack is very focused on drying his hands so they don't get sticky and gross. "I'm not drunk."

Alex laughs. "Yeah, right."

"I'm not!"

"Okay," Alex says lightly, but it's clear he doesn't believe Jack. On the bright side, he doesn't seem bothered by it.

"I am acceptably drunk for a guy in his mid-twenties at a club,” Jack amends. "And you owe me a drink anyway."

"Hey, I intend to buy you that drink," Alex says earnestly. "Another beer?"

Jack shakes his head. "Vodka soda," he says. "It's a special occasion."

"Really! You celebrating something?"

"I am now," Jack says. "Celebrating meeting my future husband."

"Your future husband?"

"You," Jack says, in case it wasn't clear. "It's not every day you meet the man you're gonna marry. I think it calls for a celebratory vodka soda."

Alex stares, obviously expecting Jack to say sike! When Jack does no such thing, he gives a small, incredulous laugh.

"Fair enough," he says. He sounds like he's humoring Jack. That's okay. Jack is serious, but Alex will figure that out on his own time. "I guess you're not wrong. That doesn't happen every day."

A large shadow materializes on Alex's other side, blocking light like some very cliché movie villain. It's not Doc Ock, but it is some tall, burly guy, a leer affixed to his face that's probably been there since Alex's haircut went out of style.

"Hey, baby," he says in an unnervingly deep voice. The part of Jack that isn't super skeezed out is a little jealous. But Burly Guy isn't talking to Jack; Jack may as well be invisible. To Alex, Burly Guy says, "Saw you across the bar and I just had to come over."

Didn't have to, Jack thinks grumpily to himself. You could have stayed across the bar. If you walk away now we’ll pretend we never saw you.

"Can I get you a drink?" Burly Guy asks, and honestly, Jack has no idea what Alex is going to say.

Big Burly Guy with a deep voice a la Morgan Freeman vs. resident beanstalk Jack whose voice sounds like a rejected cartoon character design. What a tough choice.

Jack is just preparing to cut his losses when Alex grabs Jack's wrist, turns to him, and says, "Honey? What do you think?"

Jack's tipsy, but Alex is definitely communicating something with his eyes, and between that and the pet name Jack is pretty sure he's on the same page.

"You want to buy my boyfriend a drink?" Jack asks Big Burly Guy, cranking up the Bitchy energy because he doesn't get to do it a lot and it's kinda fun. His voice has definitely gone vaguely southern-auntie, but he's rolling with it. "Sorry, sugar, this seat's taken. Must be this guy" — he points at himself — "to ride."

"This guy?" Burly Guy echoes, furrowing his eyebrows at Jack and then looking at Alex with profound confusion, like he just doesn't get it. "You're with this guy?"

"Happily," Alex says, glancing back at Jack, who offers him what is definitely a convincingly enamored smile because Jack is legitimately enamored. Alex laces their fingers together and Jack's not delusional, can't be, not when they fit this well together. No way. "So I'm gonna pass on that drink. Sorry, man. No hard feelings."

Burly Guy seems to have some hard feelings. Maybe he didn't get the memo. "Whatever," he says gruffly. "Your loss."

Jack can't resist countering, "Actually it's your loss, sweetums," as Burly Guy retreats. If he dies tonight, he knows who’s responsible.

As soon as he's gone, Alex breaks down laughing, and Jack quickly follows suit. Alex's hand slips from Jack's and begins to tug at the ends of his own hair instead.

"Sugar?"

"I don't know what happened," Jack says/wheezes. "I became possessed by Blanche from Golden Girls.”

"You have to be" — Alex prods Jack's chest — "this guy to ride." He dissolves into giggles and Jack is laughing too but mostly because Alex's laugh is incredibly contagious.

"Look, I don't blame him," Jack says, feeling exhilarated. "You are the best-looking guy in this establishment. He just happened to have creepo vibes."

"I am not the best-looking guy in this establishment," Alex says, grinning at Jack. "Nice of you to say, though."

"Hey, I'm serious!"

"I thought you were Jack."

Jack stares at Alex and Alex doesn't even last a second before he's breaking down laughing yet again.

I'm going to marry you, Jack thinks, and it almost scares him how serious he is about that. He opens his mouth and says, "That wasn't even— that's not even one of the good dad jokes! That's the most boring one!"

"There is no such thing as a boring dad joke."

"You should go into stand-up," Jack says dryly. "You'd tear down the house with this set. I can see it now." He waves a grandiose hand in the air as if painting the marquee into existence, but when he goes to introduce the act he realizes he's missing most of the crucial information. "Alex…something…something. Austin, Texas, one night only."

"Gaskarth," Alex says. "That's my last name."

"Alex Something Gaskarth," Jack loyally amends, and gives Alex a look like, well?

Except Alex is giving Jack that same look. "I only know your first name and you expect me to tell you my full one?"

"Jack Bassam Barakat," Jack says, gesturing impatiently. "Come on, I'm trying to introduce your act here."

"Guess," Alex says.

"Guess?"

"It's a pretty basic middle name," Alex says. "I'll buy you your vodka soda when you guess it."

"Alex," Jack says. "I am not going to guess your middle name. I am so bad at these games and I'm fucking drunk."

"Quitter," Alex says. "Do you want your drink?"

Jack scowls, trying to channel Blanche again, but Alex is apparently immune.

"Give me a hint," he finally concedes.

"It's a British name," Alex says. “Pretty standard British.”

"Are you British?”

Alex nods. "Born and raised. Moved here when I was about…eight? But I'm not an American citizen. I have a green card."

Yet another reason they should be married. Jack could extend his citizenship to Alex. Plus he'd gain British citizenship, which would probably be useful for, like, travel or One Direction stalking or whatever.

"That's sick," Jack says. "I was born in Lebanon. We moved when I was a baby."

"That's so cool," Alex says, sounding genuinely interested. He props his chin on his hand and gives Jack a cheeky smile. "Now guess."

Jack sighs. "Uh, Charles."

"No."

"Darcy."

"Darcy?"

"Margaret."

"Jack."

"You said it's a British name!"

"A British man's name," Alex says, rolling his eyes in fond exasperation.

Jack takes a long pull from his beer, swallows, and says, "Harry."

"No."

They're going to be here awhile. Jack pulls out the seat next to Alex and settles in while he racks his brain for British names.

*

“Alfred.”

“Nope.”

“John.”

“No.”

“Paul.”

“No.”

“George.” Alex shakes his head. “Ringo.”

“Yup, you finally got it,” Alex says. Jack is over the moon for a split second before it sinks in that Alex is fucking with him. “Alex Ringo Gaskarth. Well done.”

“Fuck off, I’m doing my best here,” Jack says.

“You’re missing one incredibly obvious name,” Alex says. “It’s not that hard.”

“For you,” Jack says. “Because you already know it.” Alex is grinning. Jack likes that he’s enjoying himself. It makes this guessing game fun. Under any other circumstances, this guessing game would not be fun, but Alex makes it fun.

Alex has also finished his mango margarita by now, and Jack’s beer is long since empty. He’s itching for another drink, mainly for something to do with his hands.

As if reading his mind, Alex flags down the bartender, who sidles up with a small smile and says, “What can I get you boys?”

Jack blinks at her. Mostly at her accent, which is not American.

“Vodka soda,” Alex says. To Jack, “I think you’ve earned it.” Jack smiles.

“And a mango margarita,” he puts in to the bartender, “and are you British?”

The bartender looks amused. “I am British,” she says.

“Please help me,” Jack says. “Alex says his middle name is a British name and I cannot for the life of me figure out what it fucking is.”

“Jack, the nice bartender lady has other things to do,” Alex says with a laugh. The nice bartender lady probably does have other things to do, but she shifts her weight and gives Alex an appraising look instead.

“Harry?”

“Tried that,” Jack says, realizing at once that this is a pointless endeavor. The nice bartender lady is going to guess everything Jack’s already guessed and he’ll just have wasted her time. “I’ve tried every member of One Direction, every member of the Beatles, every member of Oasis, every Harry Potter character, every member of the Royal Family—”

At this, Alex coughs conspicuously.

Jack rounds on him. “I have.”

“Edward,” the bartender offers. Alex’s lips are pressed together in a smile and he shakes his head. “Meghan. Kate. Richard. Dick. Philip.”

A lightbulb goes off as the bartender is listing Royal Family names. Jack wants to kick himself. “Oh my— William?”

“Yeahhhh, there you go! See, it was easy,” Alex says, grinning widely.

“William,” the bartender repeats with a charming little laugh. Her lipstick is bright with clean lines, an impressive feat considering Jack has seen her bustling around this bar for almost an hour now. “I had an ex called William.”

“Oh no,” Alex says. “I hope he didn’t ruin the name for you.”

“Please,” the bartender says, waving him off. “The only thing he ruined for me was a few meters of drywall.” Jack and Alex must have twin looks of concern, because she explains, “Anger issues. No worries, boys, I sent him packing, and a vodka soda for you, and a mango marg for you.”

She slides their drinks into waiting hands and starts to turn away. “Wait a sec,” Jack says.

The bartender turns back to him with wide Bambi eyes. “Did I fuck up the drink? I’ve made it a million—”

“No no no,” Jack assures her. “I just wanted to know your name. You rescued me from an eternal guessing game, you’re my hero.”

The bartender smiles and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Maisie,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Maisie,” Alex says. “Thank you for the alcohol.”

Maisie laughs again as she moves to the other side of the bar.

“William,” Jack says, swirling his drink with the miniature straw. “God damn. I can’t believe I missed William.”

“You got close,” Alex says. “You guessed Liam twice. And thanks for the drink.”

“Same to you,” Jack says. “It’s a good drink. Yours, I mean. You know what offends me, though? Why aren’t mango margaritas orange?”

Alex furrows his brow. “Why the fuck would they be orange?”

“Mangos are orange! Fruity drinks should be the same color as their fruit.”

“Mangos are not fucking orange,” Alex says with an incredulous laugh. “They’re straight-up yellow.”

“They’re orange with yellow tendencies,” Jack says, “but mostly orange.”

“They are entirely yellow,” Alex says. “Coldplay even wrote a song about them. They were all yellow.”

“They’re orange,” Jack insists, but now Alex has moved on completely and is loudly singing Coldplay.

“I came along! I wrote a song foooor youuuuu! And all the things you do!”

“You’re ignoring the truth!”

“And it was called ‘Yellow’!” Alex shouts.

“Okay, I surrender! Sheesh. You win.”

“Thank you,” Alex says placidly, like he hasn’t just been yelling obnoxiously over the (worse, but much louder) club music. “I’m going to enjoy my yellow mango marg very much.”

“And I will enjoy my victory drink,” Jack says, lifting his glass. Alex lifts his. It smells like mango and tequila. They clink the rims together. “To William.”

“To William,” Alex agrees, laughing.

*

The DJ plays a song Jack loves to hate from hearing it on the radio so many times and Alex is out of his seat before Jack’s managed to put down his drink.

“What are—”

“I love this song, I want to dance,” Alex insists. The implication is clearly that he wants Jack to dance with him, which is like. What is Jack gonna do, say no?

Alex must anticipate some kind of argument, though, because with a glint in his eye he adds lightly, “These are the kinds of things you’ll have to do if we’re married.”

On the one hand, he’s clearly making fun. But on the other hand, the fact that Alex was a stranger an hour ago and is still comfortable teasing Jack about suggesting they’re going to get married speaks volumes. Alex is smiling. They’ve known each other for less than an hour — a drink and a half each — and Alex is smiling at his own joke about marrying Jack. Like he likes that Jack said it first. Like he likes Jack.

“Just wait ‘til you learn all the weird shit you’ll have to do when we’re married,” Jack says, sliding out of his stool.

Any sane person would have run away by now. Even Jack knows when he’s coming on too strong.

But Alex does the opposite; Alex grabs his wrist and pulls him towards the dance floor.

“Fair warning,” Alex says. “I don’t actually know how to dance.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jack says, and then eats his words not two seconds later when Alex demonstrates how very much he doesn’t know how to dance. All of his limbs seem to move as their own entities, zero synchronization. A couple surrounding people take various minor assaults before taking the hint and giving Alex some space, but this does not stop him. “Okay,” Jack says loudly over the music. “You were right. But luckily neither do I.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Alex says.

Jack does the sprinkler. Alex snorts. He does the wave, very poorly, and Alex continues it, also very poorly.

“Mr. Moves,” Alex says. “I’m impressed.”

“Yeah? Check this one out.” Jack does the running man with extreme focus. Alex laughs, leaning towards Jack as he does. Jack stops dancing so he doesn’t accidentally hit Alex, who is suddenly much closer and who somehow smells like pine and flannel and fall and winter in one and is the best-looking person in blue jeans and checkered Vans on this dance floor. Far from the only person, but without question the prettiest.

Fuck.

“I don’t think I can do that one,” says Alex, grinning. Jack nods at him like, try it, so Alex does, proving himself right. He almost takes Jack’s eye out.

“Yeesh, okay, you’re— alright, take it easy,” Jack says, swatting Alex’s wayward hand away and laughing. “Well, we all have our strengths.”

Surrendering the running man, Alex starts up with some bizarre hand-wavey foot-kicky thing, singing along to the music.

“Do you seriously like this song?” Jack asks, attempting to imitate Alex’s dance. “Dance,” heavy quote marks implied.

Alex shoots Jack a look. “Hell yeah. What, you don’t?”

“It’s just…always on,” Jack says. “Everywhere. How are you not sick of it?”

“Because it fuckin’ slaps!” Alex looks incensed.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised you’re a pop music person when you’re literally in a One Direction shirt.”

“I’m a lots of music person,” Alex counters. “Including pop music, yeah. You don’t like pop music?”

“I sometimes do,” Jack says. “I like Taylor Swift. Britney Spears.”

“Okay, well, you’d have to be insane not to like them.”

“Yeah, and I’m obviously sane.”

Alex barks a laugh. “Drunk but sane.”

“I am not drunk!” That’s probably a lie by now.

“You’re not convincing me otherwise,” Alex says. “I’m confident you’ve been drunk this whole time.”

“You haven’t exactly been an innocent bystander,” Jack says. “You bought me a drink, and you’re gonna buy us shots in a minute.”

“I did— I what?”

“Yeah,” Jack says, and this time he drags Alex off the dance floor, back to the bar. “I can see the future, I forgot to tell you.”

“You—” Alex laughs again and leans on the bar, trapping both his elbows between his stomach and the bartop. “You’re buying the next round.”

“Oh, happily,” Jack says. “I’m actively trying to get you drunk.”

“Why’s that?”

“Studies show I am 75% more attractive to people when they’re drunk,” says Jack.

Alex turns to him. Without missing a beat, he says smoothly, “I don’t think it’s possible for you to get any more attractive.”

Fuck. Actually, fuck. Seriously. Fuck.

“You must be drunk already, then,” Jack says.

Alex smiles serenely. “I feel pretty sober.”

“Exactly what a drunk person would say,” Jack says. “J’accuse, William.”

Alex laughs. “In that case, your studies are right.”

Jack’s probably blushing. He does that in extreme cases only, but this is nothing if not an extreme case. Alex is fucking relentless.

Maisie the bartender is back, and Alex orders them shots of tequila. Somewhere in the recesses of Jack’s mind, this unlocks a memory, and he snaps his fingers. “I should hunt down my friend, he loves tequila.”

“Friend?” Alex looks around while Maisie pours their shots. “You ditched your friend?”

“He told me to,” Jack says. “He’s probably gonna pick up some girl. Actually, he probably already has.”

“Really,” Alex says, sounding amused.

“Zack’s a strong silent type,” Jack explains. “Emphasis on strong. We’re single guys in our mid-twenties, Alex. We’re not going to clubs for the atmosphere.”

“Admit it,” Alex says. “You a little bit are.”

Jack bites his lip. “Fine, I like the atmosphere,” he admits, more affected than he should be that Alex seems to have picked up on this about him. “And the alcohol. And the chances I’ll meet my future husband, which clearly paid off. Zack will never admit it, but I’m pretty sure he likes trying to set me up with random people in clubs.”

Alex laughs. “He set you up with me?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack says. “He wingmanned me hard. You can thank him in your vows.”

This only serves to make Alex laugh harder. “I’ll thank him now,” he says with a grin. Taking his cue, Jack grabs his shot glass. Alex does the same. “To Zack.”

“To Zack!” Jack cheers, and they both down their shots.

“Me?”

Jack whirls around and trips straight into Zack. “Zack!” he says brightly. “We toasted you.”

“I heard,” Zack says. “Why, exactly?”

“I’m Alex,” says Alex, holding out a hand. Zack shakes it. “Apparently you set us up?”

“Oh,” Zack says. “I wouldn’t really say that. I just kind of pointed Jack in this direction. If you can put up with him, that’s all you.”

“I was gonna come find you anyway,” Jack says. “We’re doing tequila shots. Next round on me.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Zack says. “Count me in.”

They can’t come up with a toast for their second round so they just knock it back with an ambiguous cheer; then Zack offers to buy another, and Jack’s not about to refuse. It’s starting to hit just right, so he’s buzzed but not incoherent. All his most brilliant ideas come in this state.

Case in point: as Maisie is pouring them their third round, Jack suddenly says, “Maisie! Do a shot with us!”

Maisie looks up and laughs. “I’m not supposed to drink on the job,” she says.

“It’s not drinking, it’s bonding,” Jack insists.

“Yeah, we’re forming lasting friendships,” Alex jumps in.

Zack looks entertained. “You guys know each other?”

“As of half an hour ago, yes,” Maisie says.

“Maisie here helped me guess Alex’s middle name,” Jack explains. “Which is William. Like the prince.”

“I feel like I missed so much,” Zack says, half to himself. He shrugs and nods at Maisie. “One shot. On me. For Jack. We won’t tell.”

Maybe it’s because Zack is buff and has cool tattoos or just has good vibes or whatever, but Maisie hesitates only a second before inclining her head. “Just one, and no blabbing,” she says, meeting all of their eyes in turn. Everyone nods solemnly, and Maisie discreetly pours herself a fourth shot.

“Hell yes!” Jack whoops as they all take a shot glass. “To Maisie!”

“To Maisie!” Everyone echoes, including Maisie with a wry grin.

The third shot goes down smoother than the first two. Jack swallows his easily, as does Alex. Maisie puckers her face a bit. Zack has zero reaction, because Zack’s just kinda like that.

“While I’m here, I was hoping to get another beer,” Zack says.

“On it,” Maisie says immediately, giggling. “Thanks for the shot, boys. You’ve kept me far more entertained tonight than my usual shift provides.”

“You can give a toast at our wedding,” Jack says to her. Zack’s eyes widen a little, Alex snorts, and Maisie laughs.

“I’d be honored,” she says. “Back to work now. You need anything, let me know.”

“Seriously, Jack?”

“What?” Jack gives Zack an innocent smile. He pats Zack on the cheek. “Don’t worry, sugar, you can give a toast too.”

Alex laughs. Zack stares at him and shakes his head. “You’re insane,” he says, but he says that roughly twice a day so he’s still below his quota. “I’ll leave you two alone. Come find me when you wanna go. If…” He eyes Alex. “...Just…yeah.”

And with these eloquent words, he disappears with his beer into the crowd.

“I like him,” Alex announces.

“Me too,” Jack says. He turns back to Alex. “Back to the dance floor?”

“Get out of my brain,” Alex says. “I’d like to see your drunken running man.”

“It is gonna blow your fucking mind,” Jack promises, and Alex laughs again.

*

They’re not even being gross like everyone else. Alex has pulled Jack into an exaggerated tango performed mostly with missteps when it happens: someone shoves them aside as they walk past, and Alex loses his balance and falls into Jack, who just barely manages to catch them both. He doesn’t manage to stop his arm from winding around Alex’s waist. To be fair, he doesn’t try very hard.

Jack’s first thought is homophobe, but then he spots the offender, lumbering off with heavy footfalls, and it’s Burly Guy from earlier. The guy who tried and failed to pick Alex up.

All of this registers as Alex slowly regains his footing. “Damn, who pissed in that dude’s Cheerios?”

“It’s the guy from before who tried to buy you a drink,” Jack says, pointing at his back.

Alex whips his head around. “Seriously? Asshole.”

Jack chooses not to observe that from his vantage point, being shoved close together is hardly a dick move. In intent, sure, but not in actuality; Jack’s enjoying the proximity a great deal. Like, a lot.

Like, his hand is still on Alex’s hip, subtly keeping Alex close, and Alex has his arm around Jack’s shoulders from their dance and he’s not moving, either.

“Yeah,” Jack says. They’d already been on the outskirts and now they’re off to the side of everyone, wallflowers.

Alex breathes a laugh and looks back at Jack. He doesn’t step back or even lean away, even though their faces are too close to be friendly now. Jack hadn’t really been expecting friendly, but they’ve been tightrope-walking between sides, and if neither of them breaks this up then they’ll be irreversibly left on one end.

Jack has no intention of moving away. He likes this end of the tightrope. For all he cares, they could cut the tightrope and free-fall together.

“You’re pretty good at bad tango-ing,” Alex says, reaching up to brush away the sweaty fringe that’s clinging to his forehead.

Jack grins. “Well, you know what they say. It takes two.”

Alex kisses him so suddenly that Jack almost loses his balance.

*

He tastes like tequila. That’s all Jack gets before they’re not kissing anymore. The room feels quiet and then unforgivably loud the next second, and Alex is flushed and smiling nervously, and Jack is smiling too, not nervous at all.

“Did I tell you I’m in a band?” Alex asks in a rush.

Jack’s brain struggles to keep up. He can’t remember Alex mentioning a band, but he’s also distracted by wanting to kiss Alex again. There’s no understating the power of wanting to kiss someone over failing to clock anything they say. “What?”

“I’m in a band,” Alex says. “Not as a job, just like, for fun.”

“Oh,” says Jack.

“I’m the lead singer,” Alex says, with a flickering look down at Jack’s shirt.

“Oh,” says Jack, because, like, oh. “Can I kiss you again?”

“What, here?” Alex meets his eyes. “With all these people around?”

“You kissed me first,” Jack says. “Let me kiss you and then we can call it even.”

“Okay,” Alex says, and Jack’s kissing him before the word’s really out of his mouth.

And he tastes like tequila and mango and sugar and the color yellow and the sweat of the dance floor and God, it’s good. It’s like kissing a memory, except this memory is still here, not frozen in time, not trapped in an ornate frame. He’s creating a memory that he knows he’ll relive for the rest of his life.

Somehow, though he doesn’t know the end of this chapter, he knows the end of the book.

Alex’s warm palm cradling Jack’s cheek to hold him steady, fingers splayed out like a star; Alex’s other hand grazing skin over the collar of Jack’s shirt. Alex singing Coldplay in Jack’s ear. Alex’s blue jeans and his checkered Vans and his ridiculous One Direction tank top. Alex holding Jack’s hand and calling him honey to get Burly Guy to leave him alone. Grinning as he shoots down guess after guess for the elusive middle name. Laughing at Jack’s stupid dance moves. Knocking back a shot like it’s nothing. Smiling when Jack says they’re going to get married, never moving away, only ever closer.

Alex sitting undisturbed at the bar, ankles crossed, and Jack seeing him from across the room like something out of a goddamn Hallmark movie and just knowing.

He tugs Alex closer but Alex is already pulling away with a smile. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah,” Jack says. He smoothes a hand over a crease in Alex’s shirt and nods. “Taxi’s on me if we go back to your place.”

“Sucker, I was gonna suggest that anyway,” Alex says with a quiet laugh. “You should tell Zack. Don’t wanna just leave him.”

“Don’t worry,” Jack says. “He knows.”

“He knows?”

“Zack and I are brothers in clairvoyance,” Jack says. “How many times do I have to tell you this?”

“I knew you could see the future,” Alex says. “You never told me Zack could, too.”

“Zack can see everyone’s future,” says Jack. “I can only see mine.”

“Yeah? What’s your future look like now?”

Jack filters out several inappropriate comments. It’s hard when Alex is smirking, clearly baiting him. “I told you,” he says. “You, me, vows, rings, the works.”

“Not that future,” Alex says. “I’m talking about the immediate one.”

It takes everything in Jack not to get down on one knee and say so was I. There’s a tilt in Alex’s head, like a dog listening carefully for a familiar sound.

“Honestly?” Jack says, and Alex nods. “I think it’s more fun if we find out together.”

#jack barakat #alex gaskarth #jalex #jalex fic #all time low #atl fic #fic #my fic #sam. i love you #i have wrung out all my love for you in this fic and the ao3 notes and stuff #but i hope you like it #i hope you love it #but ill be happy if you just like it at least #i should relaly go to sleep so i can wake up early again like a smart reasonable person to at least ATTEMPT to get SOME of my work done #sighhhhh #the sacrifices we make #i can't believe yom kippur is so soon and im worrying about homework #hate it here #my one regret is that this song says fourteenth of october not fourteenth of september #missed opportunity on mr rhett's part #bruh i would kill to see him live #anyway #happy birthday my love

[miss-tc-nova]

The Cat’s Meow - Jumin Han x Fem!Reader Bonus

I tried SO HARD to keep this to a decent length, but I can not. So suffer! But I love this bonus chapter so much I’m smiling just thinking about it. 

Bonus: The Cat’s Meow

                “Are you serious?”

                “I’m sorry, love, but this is important for partnering with the cat furniture company.”

                I heave a sigh, sitting on the bed. “So how long is it going to take? Remember, we have that get together with the SC tonight.”

                “I know. I promise I’ll be done before then, but I have no idea when.”

                I flop onto my back, grumbling, “You mean I probably won’t get to see you all day.”

                “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

                “No. The last time you tried to make it up to me, I had to convince you not to buy another private island and I’m not having that argument with you again,” I scoff. “Just do what you need ot do. I’ll be waiting for you when you get home.”

                “Thank you, love. I’ll talk to you when I can. I love you.”

                “Love you too.”With that, the call disconnects. I stare at the ceiling and contemplate what I’m going to do all day by myself.

                Things have been going pretty smoothly since we started officially dating. Jumin, Jaehee, and Zen have taught me how to fend off the paparazzi and Jumin’s father has finally come around to accepting our relationship. We even moved in together. It took several months of Jumin agonizing over his own beliefs of living together before marriage, but he eventually caved and asked me to move in with him. Watching the moral struggle was amusing. I only wish his work could be just a little more predictable.

                Just as I finish putting the dishes away, I get a message. Jaehee wants me to join her and Yoosung shopping. Seeing as my day has been cleared, I agree and meet the two in the shopping part of town. We wander around for a while until we end up in a higher-end store. As we go, my eye catches a very pretty purple dress.

                “Hey, how’s this one?” Yoosung asks, holding up a gray, pinstripe vest.

                “Oh, that would go well with your blue jacket,” Jaehee hums.

                “What do you think, _____?”

                I smile. “It’s nice. You should try it on.” He takes the vest and heads for the changing room and Jaehee gives me a smile. “What?”

                Her eyes shift to the dress. “It’s very pretty, isn’t it.” I’d been caught and now I’m worried she’ll tell Jumin on me. “You should try it on.”

                “I don’t know about that,” I chuckle nervously. “I’ve got plenty of outfits.”

                “Oh go on,” she urges. “It suits you so well. And I’m sure Mr. Han would love it.”

                I put a hand to my chest. “Are you threatening me?”

                Her eyes roll. “Go on. Just try it on.”

                “Fine, fine,” I sigh.

                I really hate to admit it, but Jaehee’s got me pinned; I love the dress. The fabric crosses over the torso, creating sleeves that sit just off the shoulder, and it reaches just above the ankles with the A-line skirt, and I’m in love with the royal purple color.

                “Show us!” Yoosung calls from outside the changing room.

                Embarrassed, I step out of the changing room. “I hate you so much, Jaehee.”

                She seems none perturbed. “You look stunning.”

                “It’s so pretty,” awes the blonde.

                I put my hands to my face. “You guys are absolutely terrible.”

                “You have to get it,” the woman encourages.

                “I don’t know…”

                Needless to say, the two pester me into buying the dress and a pair of silver sandals to go with them. While I leave sulking, I’m excited to show Jumin.

                My phone meows mischievously. “Huh? What’s Saeyoung want?”

                ‘Toy Master incoming!’

                “What does that-” Before I finish my question, a heavy force slams into me.

                “Impact!”

                I look up at the man hugging me who’s got the cheesiest grin on his face. “Saeyoung! What are you doing here?!”

                He releases me to stuff his hands in his pockets. “We went and got lunch,” he hums, pointing to his brother catching up. “But now we’re gonna go get ready for the party.”

                I check my phone. “Now? The party’s not for another five hours…”

                “Yes, but Saeyoung procrastinates everything,” grumbles Saeran, giving his brother a scolding look. “And V asked us to help him with the decorating.”

                Saeyoung slings an arm around my shoulder again. “It looks like you’ve all got new clothes for this shindig! Why don’t we all have a pre-party party at our house?!”

                “Sorry, but I promised my guild we’d run a few dungeons before the party,” Yoosung replies.

                Jaehee sighs, “And I’m afraid I have prior commitments as well.”

                “Oooooh! Lame!” Those golden eyes turn to me with hope. “_____?”

                Jumin still hasn’t contacted me saying he’ll be off work any time soon. “Sure. Why not.”

                “Yahoo! Let’s party!”

                “Big mistake,” mumbles Saeran.

                From there, I bid Jaehee and Yoosung bye and follow the red-heads back to their place. Just as I flop onto the sofa, Saeyoung lunges for the bag in my hand.“Hey hey! Show us that dress you got!”

                “What?” I laugh.

                “Yeah! Go put it on! I wanna see it!” His eyebrows wiggle. “Unless you don’t mind me trying it on?”

                I jerk the bag away. “No! Knowing my luck, you’d look better in it than I do! And I am not having that image haunting me tonight!”

                “Later then!”

                I look to Saeran who gives me an ‘I told you so’ look. The red-head begs and begs until I just throw my hands up and give in. For the second time today, I pull on the dress. When I step outside the bathroom, Saeran’s mouth drips ice cream on his shirt and Saeyoung trips mid-step.

                A bit pleased with my inadvertent revenge, I smooth out the skirt. “Maybe wearing this tonight will end in a trip to the hospital.”

                “Wow! You look great!” Saeyoung shouts, sitting up.

                Saeran drags a sleeve across his mouth. “That’s a nice color on you.”

                “Ohohoh!” At the speed of light, Saeyoung bolts out of the room and down the hall. Saeran and I stare in confusion until he races back with multiple boxes in his arms. He dumps them on the desk and waves wildly at his chair. “Sit sit sit!”

                “Okay okay okay,” I laugh, thoroughly confused but not wanting to find out what happens if I refuse.

                Saeyoung cracks open one of the boxes and my jaws drops. He’s got more make up in one box than I’ve had in my entire life.

                “Wait! Hold on! I didn’t-”

                He grabs my hands, giving me the biggest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen. “Please _____! Let me do your make up! It’s one of my top ten dreams!”

                “Your dream is to do my make up?”

                “YES!”

                As if he knows it’ll make it worse, he pulls off his glasses and continues begging. There was no hope for me. “Fine.”

                Saeyoung literally does a victory lap around the house.

                Saeran leans closer to me. “You know he’s not gonna stop at makeup, right?” I glance up at him. “He’s got an entire closet full of wigs.”

                “Oh no…”

                Saeyoung plucks, pads, and pokes at my face while Saeran gives his input. I shoot him a glare when he’s the first to comment what hairstyle would work best. His response is a smug smirk. To my dismay, Saeyoung delves into styling my hair as well. At least he makes Saeran paint all my nails for me. In the end, I’m really impressed at just how good Saeyoung is at this kind of stuff.

                “Tadaaaa!”

                I nearly stop breathing. It’s perfect; all of it. I could rival Zen. “Saeyoung, I will never in my life ask anyone to do my hair and make up for me again. This is amazing!”

                “Of course! Nothing but perfection in my work! And for you, all I charge is kitty pats!”

                “As long as you don’t tell Jumin I let you come over, we have a deal.”

                “Good,” mumbles Saeran. “Then maybe I can have some peace around here.”

                Saeyoung gasps dramatically. “But Sae! Don’t you love your big brother?!” He tries to hug the grump, but the grump resists.

                “Nobody can deal with your antics all the time!” Unable to hold off his brother, Saeran goes down, dragging Saeyoung with him. “Get off me!”

                “Not until you admit you love me!”

                “No!”

                “Say it!”

                “NO!”

                The doorbell rings but obviously the two are not going to answer it. Dancing around them, I pull the door open to see the actor and the photographer.

                “Oh hey, __-Wow!” Zen’s eyes go wide. “Damn, that trust-fund-kid is a lucky jerk.”

                I giggle and V offers a smile. “You do look lovely, _____.”

                “Why thank you,” I hum. “So what brings you into our world of chaos?”

                He glances past me into the Choi home. “Well…Saeyoung and Saeran were supposed to come with us to help set up but…I see Saeyoung is procrastinating again.”

                “He certainly didn’t procrastinate in attacking me,” I retort, looking back at the boys rolling across the floor. “But I honestly don’t know what you were expecting.”

                “Well, guess it’s just us,” Zen says. “Wanna come help?”

                I glance back again and decide I should get out of here for now. “Yeah. Sure.” I pick up my bag of clothes and purse. “Sae. Saeyoung. I’m gonna go with Zen and V.”

                “See you at the party!” Saeyoung calls, pinning Saeran down. “Say you love me!”

                “NEVER!”

                Rolling my eyes, I close the door and go with V and Zen to the party location. It’s a small, but very fancy place with a gorgeous garden in the back. The men roll out a few tables while I hang up a banner and some streamers. Because it really is a small party for just the charity members, we aren’t going crazy with the set up.

                I lean back. “How does that look? Is it even?”

                “It’s perfect. Nice job, doc,” Zen compliments.

                He holds the ladder while I let myself down and V calls out to us. “I think we’re almost done. Why don’t we take a break? _____, can I borrow you for a bit?”

                I glance to Zen and shrug. We amble towards V and he waves to the door out to the garden. “What’s up?”

                “I was hoping you’d be my model for a bit,” V asks sheepishly.

                “What?”

                “You look amazing and the flowers would be a beautiful background and-”

                “He’s an artist. He’s going to be pining to take your picture all night,” chuckles Zen, further instigating V’s awkwardness.

                I let slip a nervous laugh. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer the god that is Zen?”

                The photographer’s hand goes to the back of his neck. “I’ve got plenty of pictures of Zen and I’m looking for more of a feminine touch.”

                “Zen wears more make up than I do!”

                Zen doesn’t seem offended at all. “It’s probably true.”

                “Please, _____?”

                “I have ino dea how to be a model.”

                “Don’t worry about it. I’m a professional.”

                “Okay,” I sigh. “What do you want me to do?”

                V ushers me into the garden and starts having a field day. Zen tags along with his suggestions or just to pull my attention away from the camera and make it more casual for me. I admit that it’s actually quite a lot of fun, especially with friends to take the edge off the awkwardness.

                “And then that rich kid began critiquing Yoosung’s cosplay of him!”

                I’m almost crying from laughter. “Are you serious?! Why have I not heard this story before?!”

                “Because Yoosung’s ashamed of his drunken adventure. Don’t tell him I told you.”

                “Oh you are screwed, buddy.”

                V approaches, looking at his camera happily. “Okay. I think I’ve got enough pictures.”

                “You ran out of memory, didn’t you,” I question.

                “…Maybe.”

                I laugh. “I’m happy to have been your model but…you’re not going to display those, are you? Like…publicly?”

                He cautiously moves his camera further away from me. “I am.”

                “What?! Nonononononono!” The man is easily taller than I am and simply holds the camera above my head. “This is not fair! I was not warned of public use beforehand!”

                “What’s wrong, _____?” he replies in amusement. “You look wonderful and I’d never show an embarrassing photo of you…Unless Jumin asks.”

                “V! I will take you out by the shins! I-” My phone meows. Pulling it from my dress, I see my boyfriend calling. Instantly, I put it on speaker-phone. “Jumin! V is being a bully!”

                “A bully? That doesn’t sound like V,” he replies. I can already tell he’s entertained but I’m still going to stick to my point.

                “He took pictures of me and says he’s going to make them public!”

                “My love, you are gorgeous, always. And he’s a professional. What could it hurt? Don’t you trust V?”

                “Yes, don’t you trust me?” teases the criminal. I stick my tongue out at him.

                Jumin goes on, “I’m sure V will be respectful in displaying photos. You’ll be fine.”

                “You guys are rude,” I grumble.

                “I’m on my way home now. I suppose you’re not?”

                “No, I got kidnapped consecutively. But I don’t wanna be picked on anymore, so I’ll meet you at home.”He agrees and I bid the men goodbye to call a taxi.

                Jumin beat me to the penthouse but I did not expect him to greet me with a surprise. He’s waiting with a beautiful bouquet of roses in hand. His casual expression softens and he looks like he could melt.

                “You’re breath-taking,” he hums softly.

                “Oh sweetheart.”

                He passes the flowers to me. “I got these for you. Since I’m not allowed to buy private islands anymore,” he ends teasingly. A sweet, loving kiss with just a hint of hunger makes my knees weak, even after all this time. “Though I must admit that they are nothing compared to you.”

                “Stop,” I laugh. “You really didn’t have to.”

                “Of course I did.” He steals another kiss. “I missed spending the day with you.”

                “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to be lazy later.”

                We kill a little time, feed the cats dinner, and are heading out again before long. Upon arrival, Jumin and I appear to be the last ones there and the party starts. Everyone’s normally a bit lively, but there seems to be a bit more static in the air tonight. Nevertheless, I can’t help admiring my friends, the people I love. I get in on the antics and enjoy the night with them.

                “Hey hey! Didn’t V have some surprise for us?” Saeyoung announce, easily shifting everyone’s attention to the unprepared man.

                He gives a modest laugh. “Well, I did prepare a video for you all.”

                “Is that what the projector’s for?” Yoosung asks. I hadn’t even noticed the machine in the corner earlier.

                “Yes. I wanted to share some memories with everyone.”

                “Please don’t tell me my cosplay of Jumin is in there,” sighs Yoosung.

                I start giggling and he glares at Zen while Jaehee hums, “I bet there’s a lot of Zen’s pictures in there.”

                With the projector aimed at the blank wall, V clicks at his computer and starts a slide show. We’re instantly greeted with a young Jumin and V and I can’t help but awe. But seriously, the slide show is amazing. There are pictures of everyone by everyone in our happiest moments. I love it. And then I notice that there are an unusual number of pictures of me and Jumin.

                “God, are you guys stalking us,” I laugh after the eighth one in a row. And then the pictures of me in the garden come up. “V!”

                He grins shamelessly as my boyfriend pulls me back by the arm. So I’m forced to endure the embarrassment of being the focus of this slideshow.

                Then there’s a different picture. In the background, I’m there, back to the camera, paying attention to the flowers. However, in the foreground is Jumin, his back also to the camera. Hands behind his back, in one hand is the bouquet of roses he gave me earlier. In his other hand is a sign.

~~~

Will you

marry me?

~~~

                I stare in shock, instinctively reaching out for Jumin’s sleeve but he’s not there. Surprised, I turn to look for him, only to find him behind me, on one knee. He opens the box in his hands, displaying the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.

                “Will you?”

                Months ago, I would’ve said no, or at least hesitated, but that’s all different now. We’ve grown so much since we met and I can genuinely say that I want to spend my life with him.

                “Yes,” I breathe, worried that my voice will break should I be any louder.

                The room breaks out in cheering and whistled and somehow, confetti and streamers. Jumin rights himself, slipping the ring into its rightful place. Unable to contain myself much longer, I launch myself at Jumin with a kiss.

                Chuckling, he breaks away. “I told you I’d make it up to you.”

                My cheeks burn. “You planned everything, didn’t you?”

                “Right down to the purple dress.” My jaw drops. “I know what my fiancée likes. Ooo. I like how that sounds.” He brushes his nose against mine. “I love you.”

                I giggle at the ensuing peppering of kisses. “Jumin Han, you are absolutely, without a doubt…The Cat’s Meow.”

#jumin han #jumin x reader #jumin han x mc #jumin han x reader #jumin x mc #mm jumin #mysme #mysme jumin #mystic messenger #fem!reader

[criminalhotch]

Two Little Peaches~A Grayson Dolan Imagine

Here’s an idea for a prompt: in the handcuff video e said something like “why do you have a body pillow?” So Y/N is far along in her pregnancy so gray explains to Ethan how it helps Y/N sleep and be comfortable. And Gray is super cute knowing these things about pregnancy. And e ends up saying something like you are so whipped. Thanks! Your writing is fabulous! ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: Ok so a little bit of insight. The first paragraph of this is like foreshadowing (the bolded part) then the rest of it up until it says present day is in the past (italicized words) then the regular font is present time. Thank you to whoever sent this in.  We are going to pretend this video happens a few years in the future. I also made a few twists to the request but kept the same idea!

Warnings: swearing, fluff, daddy! grayson, uncle! E, mentions of anxiety/anxiety attack

Word Count: 5,886

 3rd Person POV

“Grayson, why do you have a body pillow?” Ethan asked. “My leg is hanging off the bed” Grayson sassed. Ethan moves over, and they finally get comfortable. “Ok, but you never answered my question,” Ethan said. “What question?” Grayson asks annoyed. “Why do you have a body pillow?” he asked. “It’s not mine, it’s Y/N’s,” he said. “Why does she need one?” he asked. “She’s eight months pregnant with twins, E. Her body hurts all the time. Her back cramps, her hands, ankles, and feet are swollen, she’s gained 40 pounds, and she has not only one but two of them kicking and punching her at all hours of the night” Grayson explained to his older brother who was not anywhere ready for kids of his own.

Grayson has been married for a year now. They didn’t waste much time on kids because we all know Grayson loves children. His and E’s YouTube channel is still flourishing so Grayson and his wife, Y/N thought it would be a good time for kids but before they actually started trying, they consulted with Ethan and he was extremely excited to have a niece or nephew. Hell, they’d make their videos more interesting. Grayson nor Ethan wanted their kids in every video, but they knew the fans would love to see them. They agreed long ago that having their future children in videos every so often was not exploiting them in any way just giving them some time to do things they loved with their little ones while making the fans happy all at the same time. Well, the joke is on them. Y/N and Grayson started trying right after their wedding. A few months later, it happened. Y/N peed on a little stick and after the three agonizing minutes, the test read: pregnant. She couldn’t wait to tell Grayson and his family as well as her own. Y/N decided she was going to surprise Grayson with a photo shoot while they were visiting his family in NJ. A good friend of theirs was having a deal on mini sessions so she decided that’s how she would tell them, during the photo session. This way she would have beautiful pictures of Grayson finding out that he will be a dad in a few short months. They dressed in color-coordinated outfits. She asked the photographer to bring chalkboards so they could write on them. She told Grayson she wanted to get a head start on Christmas cards even though it was only June, Grayson being the oblivious man he is thought nothing of it. They’d taken a few shots in a couple different places. They were in an open field when the photographer suggested the idea. “I have so many couples do this. Write down the thing you love most about the other person. A lot have people told me when they fight with their significant other, they look at this picture and remember why they married him. It’s very sweet” she explained. Grayson nod and Y/N smiled. They turned around and wrote what they wanted. Grayson could not decide what he should write, he loved everything about Y/N. After a few seconds, he decided writing “You love me for me” was a good way to spin it whereas Y/N wrote, “You are going to be a daddy!”. The photographer asked if they were done and they both said “yes”. “Ok on the count of three both of you turn around and read what the other person wrote” she explained, and the couple nodded. “3,2,1” she said as Grayson turned to face his wife…

Grayson’s POV

I turn around to see my wife. I look down at the chalkboard in my wife’s hand placed in front of her. I read the words once, then twice, and finally on the third time it clicks. Tears start to stream down my face as I look into her eyes. “Really?” I choked out tears pricking at the back of my eyes. “Really” she smiled, and I immediately lunged towards her and wrapped her up in my arms. I spun around as we laughed. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant already” I whispered. “Me either” she smiled up to me. We paid the photographer and asked her a few questions before heading our separate ways. Once we were in the car I realized something. “I can’t keep something like this from Ethan,” I said to my wife. “Trust me, babe. We can tell your parents tonight at our dinner before we fly back to LA tomorrow and we can stop by E’s after dinner” she explained to me and I nodded. I grabbed Y/N’s hand and intertwined our fingers. I kissed the top of her hand then I continued to drive thinking of becoming a dad.

 Y/N’s POV

A few hours later we had arrived at Lisa and Sean’s. Cameron’s family would be here but there are on vacation as summer just started here in Jersey. Grayson stayed relatively quiet all night to ensure that he didn’t spill the beans. We had finished our spaghetti dinner after the dishes had been cleaned, I decided to speak up. “As you may have noticed Grayson has been awful quiet this evening. We have a surprise that Grayson didn’t want to give away. We got you guys something” I said and Lisa looked at me with confusion while Sean looked intrigued. I handed them their gift as they ripped through the wrapping paper. In front of them sat a sign that read “The best parents get promoted to grandparents”. Lisa gasped, and Sean smiled. “You’re pregnant?” Lisa whispered, and I nodded. “When did you find out?” Sean asked. “I find out a few days ago but I just told Grayson today. I planned a photo shoot and during the photo shoot, we had chalkboards. We were supposed to write what we loved most about each other but I wrote you’re going to be a daddy instead” I explained. “That’s adorable” Lisa exclaimed. “What did Grayson write?” Sean asked. “I don’t know, I was too focused on his reaction,” I said looking up to my husband waiting for an answer. “I wrote that you love me for me” he smiled. “Yes, I do,” I said as he pecked my lips one time as his parents were right in front of us. “I know exactly where I can hang this up at!” Lisa said excitedly. “You’d think this is her first grandkid” Sean chuckled. “It’s because I’m her favorite” Grayson snickered. “You’re only saying that because your brother and sister aren’t here,” I said. “It’s true whether they are here or not,” he said with cockiness in his voice. “I can hear you and I love you, your brother, and your sister equally so shush it,” Lisa said to Grayson and he grinned. This goofball. “So, when are you due?” Sean asked. “We’re not sure. I called my doctor in LA to schedule an appointment while we’re there” I answered. “How exciting! Be sure to let us know” Lisa said. “You’ll be the first one we call” I promised. “Ok, well we need to head out. It’s killing me not being able to tell Ethan so we’re going to stop by and tell them” Grayson said as we hugged them bye.

We headed to Ethan and Brooke’s which isn’t that far from us of our way seems how we share our property with them. When we got engaged the twins decided it would be a good time for Grayson and me to move out so the found land big enough to build two separate houses in New Jersey. They bought land, had two separate houses built how we wanted them to be. Meanwhile, in LA we still shared a house because we weren’t there often enough to have two separate houses. The home in LA had four rooms. One for Grayson and I, one for Ethan and Brooke, and two guest rooms but by the looks of it, one of them will be a nursery before too long. We arrived at Brooke and Ethan’s. We knocked on the door and were greeted by a shirtless Ethan. Perfect I have just the thing to fix that. “So, what’s up?” E asked. “Well we have exciting news,” I said. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “Here, open this, bro” Grayson instructed handing him a small box. He ripped it open as Brooke came in the room. “What’s going on?” she asked. “You’ll see,” I said, and she gave me a look. Ethan finally found the shirt and unfolded it. I could see his eyes scanning the shirt. “Only the best brothers get promoted to uncle” he read out loud then smiled. “So, you’re pregnant?” he asked. “I am” I smiled. “How far along are you?” Brooke asked. “I have an appointment next week in LA so I’m not sure” I explained. “When did you find out?” Ethan asked. “A few days ago,” I answered. We spent the rest of the night discussing how excited we were to have another baby in the family. Around 10 we decided to leave because we had a 10 am flight for all four of us back to LA and I was beat.

 A week later I am sitting in the doctor’s office with Grayson beside me waiting to be called back so we can see our little bean. A few minutes go by and my thoughts are interrupted by a nurse calling “Y/N Dolan”. Gray and I get up and follow the nurse. They take my vitals and bring me into an office. She asks a few questions then asks me to pee in a cup. I walked into the small bathroom and did just that. I handed it to the nurse as she walked out of the room. I sat back down next to Grayson. “I hate doing that. Guys have it is easy. They just stick it in and let it flow” I griped. “I think sticking it in is the reason we’re sitting here in the first place” Grayson joked, and I laughed. “And Ethan thinks you aren’t funny” I chuckled. “Thanks, babe,” he says as the door opens and the doctor walks in. “Well, congrats you are in fact pregnant! So, let’s get to looking at a sonogram to see how far along you are” he says bring the machine closer to me. “Lift your shirt just passed your stomach” he advised, and I did as asked. I saw Grayson clench his jaw being the protective husband he is. He reaches for my hand and I squeezed it to let him know it was ok. The doctor squeezed the cool jelly on my stomach then I heard a swishing sound. “Well were you trying for a baby?” he asked. “We were” I admitted. “Well you tried too hard because you are pregnant with twins” he explained to us. Grayson and I’s jaws hit the floor. “Do twins not run in the family?” he asked. “Oh, they do. My husband has an identical twin. I thought it skipped generations?” I asked. “Not always. It looks to be that you are about 8 weeks along which means your due date is January 1st!” he tells us. “A New Years’ baby, how cool!” Grayson said. “New Years’ twins, Grayson. There’s two like you and E” I said. “Holy shit, it is like me and E,” he said. “Twins usually don’t go full term so don’t be surprised if they come early” he advised, and I nodded. “Can you tell if they are identical or fraternal?” Grayson asked full of hope. “There are identical just like you and your brother,” the doctor said. “Babe! I’m an identical twin having identical twins!” he exclaimed. “Well I’m having them, but you assisted” I joked. “The nurse mentioned you don’t live in California full time” the doctor pondered. “No, we live in New Jersey most of the year, but we don’t travel here often but I want there to be a doctor here just in case” I explained. “That’s perfectly fine, when or if you already have a doctor in New Jersey be sure to let the office know so we can be in touch to give you the best pregnancy. Where will you deliver?” he asks. “New Jersey as long as everything goes to plan,” I said, and he nodded. “Perfect, well congratulations again. You will need to be seen in four weeks to check for the babies’ heartbeats. If you have any questions let us know, ok?” he said, and I nodded. “We need to call your parents,” I said. “My mom is going to shit her pants,” Grayson said as he dialed her number. “How’d it go?” she asked. “Great, they’re due on New Years’ Day!” I said excitedly. “How cool-wait you said they’re,” she said suspiciously. “We’re having twins, mom!” Grayson shouted. “Identical twins, Lisa. I’m having identical twins with an identical twin” I said. “That’s amazing!” she shouted. “Sean, Y/N’s having identical twins like the boys!” Lisa shouted. “Well we gotta go, mom,” Grayson said. “Alright bye, honey. Love you guys. All four of you!” she shrieked. “Bye Ma love you too,” Gray said while shaking his head at how excited his mom was. “I have to call Ethan,” he said. “Gray, we’re five minutes from home let’s tell him when we get there,” I said. “Sorry, I’m excited” he apologized. “It’s ok, babe. I know you are” I chuckled. We arrived back to the LA house were Ethan and Brooke were watching a movie. “Hey!” E cheered. “What did you find out?” Brooke asked. “We’re due January 1st!” I said excitedly. “That’s so exciting,” Brooke said. “Just wait” Gray advised. “For what?” Ethan asked. “We’re having twins, identical twins” I smiled, and Ethan jumped up off the couch. “Holy shit no way!” he yelled. “That’s crazy, congrats you guys,” Brooke said. “Damn, Gray. How hard did you go that you gave her twins?” E joked, and Grayson blushed meanwhile I laughed. “You’ve heard us enough times you should know,” I said, and it was Ethan’s turn to blush.

  We found out at 18 weeks what we were having but Brooke insisted on doing a gender reveal party. So we asked the doctor to put the gender in an envelope, seems how they were identical it will be the same. It’s now the middle of August. It’s about 80 degrees here in New Jersey perfect for a small party. I stood in front of a box with the words “He or She? What will they be?”. Grayson was next to me. Everyone was supposed to wear blue if they thought it’d be boys or pink if they thought it would be girls. I was wearing blue and Grayson was wearing pink. He knew what twin boys were like and he did not want to go through that even though it would be good karma for how he and Ethan were as kids. Everyone begins counting down. “3, 2,1” they shouted as Grayson and I pulled the box open revealing a bunch of pink balloons. Twin girls. “I told you they were girls” Grayson teased. “Oh hush, mister” I laughed. We were having twin girls and I couldn’t wait.

 Present day.

“She’s eight months pregnant with twins, E. Her body hurts all the time. Her back cramps, her hands, ankles, and feet are swollen, she’s gained 40 pounds, and she has not only one but two of them kicking and punching her at all hours of the night” I hear Grayson explain. “Damn, you’re so whipped Gray” I hear as I walked into my room. We were flying back to New Jersey tomorrow because it would be the last day, I’d be able to fly and I wanted to be in New Jersey when I have the twins. “What’s going on in here?” I asked. “We’re handcuffed to each other for 24 hours and we have 6 hours left,” Ethan said. “This can only be your dumb ass idea,” I said to Ethan. “Yeah, so deal with it” he sassed. “You really want to test your sister in law who is 8 months pregnant with TWINS?” I ask, and he shakes his head no. “Thought so,” I said, and Grayson laughed. They were laying on the bed. “Where the fuck am, I supposed to sleep?” I asked. “Wherever you want,” Grayson said. “I’ll sleep on the couch, it helps support my back,” I said. “Ok, are you going to bed now?” Gray asked. “No, I’m going to go make sure everything is good in the nursery,” I said, and Grayson nodded. I walked into the LA nursery. The girl’s names over each of their rose gold cribs, two gray rocking chairs for Grayson and I to hold both of them, two white changing tables, then a book with some decorations on top. Everything seemed to be in order. We have to come to LA at the end of January so as long as the girls aren’t sick, we’re coming with Ethan and Grayson too.

I start to waddle back into our room where I see Ethan and Grayson sitting next to each other playing Fortnite. “So how long is she pregnant?” Ethan asks. “9 months,” Grayson says. “And she’s 8 months, now right?” E asks and Gray nods. “Can she push twins out of her ya know?” Ethan asks. “She’s going to try if not she will have c-section which is technically known as a cesarean which is surgery. I really hope my baby doesn’t have to have surgery” Gray says. “She’ll be ok, Gray” E assures. “What if one gets stuck like I did?” he says. He worries a lot especially with-it being twins. “What if one of them gets tangled up like I was? What if they can’t save her like they saved me? Ethan, I can’t lose any of them. I love Y/N I have for years now but those are my little girls. What if something happens? I can’t between my wife and my daughters” he rambles. When he rambles like this, he’s about to go into a panic attack. I know Ethan can handle it, he has before but I know hearing me and seeing that I’m alright with help. He continues to freak out. “What if one of the girls doesn’t make it, what if the other one took all of her nutrients and she’s too weak? That’s so sad. I can’t do this E” he says. “Grayson, baby,” I say as I walk towards him. He looks at me with fear. “Gray, it’s going to be ok. I know you’re scared because your and Ethan’s birth was so scary but that was over 20 years ago the technology is so much better now. I’m sure they’ll be ok just like they are right now” I said trying to calm him down. “You need to relax, baby. You’re giving yourself a panic attack. We have a few weeks before they get here. Both doctors have said that for having twins I have a had a really good pregnancy, therefore, I should have a pretty good delivery” I added on and he sighed. His head rested on my belly as tears rolled down his cheeks. My hand went into his hair playing with it gently. I forgot that he and Ethan were still handcuffed. “It’s going to be just fine. Let’s not worry until we have something to worry about, alright?” I asked, and he nodded. Ethan looked at me with worried eyes. Ethan didn’t know much about pregnancy, but he knew that having twins was more of a risk than just having one.  Gray sat up and looked at his brother. “Can we cut this short and change it to like Twins handcuffed for almost 24 hours. We can explain to them what happened. I just want to be done” Grayson explained. “Yeah, of course. We can do the outro another time if you want” E suggested, and Grayson nodded.  Within a few minutes, Ethan had headed back to his room missing his twin and their attached handcuffs. “Are you better now, G?” I asked. “Can we just snuggle for a little bit?” he asked. “We can snuggle for as long as you want. You want to read a book to the girls? They love hearing their daddy’s voice” I said trying to make him feel better, but they did love his voice. If they were kicking me like crazy the second Grayson started talking, they’d stop. We walked together down to the nursery. He picked out a book, one he’d never read to them before and we walked back to our room. I laid on my back while he laid on his side snuggled into me and he began reading. I think the girls could sense something was wrong. They were pretty calm until I walked into Grayson’s panic attack and they began kicking me, but they’re calm now that he’s reading to them. “The End,” Grayson says as he finishes the book. “I think they are sound asleep, Gray,” I said. “Hopefully they are this easy outside of the womb,” he said. “Let’s hope so” I said. “Listen to you two. I know your uncle E and I were hellions when we came into the world but let’s not take that our on your poor momma. When you’re with Uncle E you can be as crazy as you want. I can’t wait until you are here, so we can all worry a little less. I love my two little peaches more than anything” he said kissing my stomach. Ever since he found out we were having girls he has called them peaches.

 It’s a few weeks later and it’s the night of Gray and E’s birthday. I have had some minor contractions but nothing to fuss about. We were back in New Jersey and had been for a while now. We were all going out to dinner for the twin’s birthday at one of their favorite restaurants in New Jersey. Ethan, Brooke, Grayson, and I decided we would just ride together. We were meeting Lisa, Sean, Cameron, and her husband at the restaurant at 5. We all got there around the same. “So how long do you think before the girls will be here?” Cameron asked. “Probably not long. I have been having Braxton Hicks contractions all day” I said. “Are you sure they aren’t real?” Ethan asked. “No, I’m not due for three weeks,” I said. “Twins can come early though” Lisa chimed in. “They’ve not been-“ I said as a sharp contraction pulsed through my body. “Intense” I finished my sentence and we all chuckled. “Babe, should we go to the hospital? Why didn’t you tell me?” Grayson asked full of concern. “No that was the first bad one and it’s your birthday, let’s enjoy it,” I said as we kept going through dinner. We were about to say our goodbyes when I felt water hit the floor. No cups had been knocked over. “Uh, Gray?” I asked. “We need to go to the hospital,” I said. “Why? What’s wrong are you bleeding?” he asked worriedly.  “No, I think my water just broke” I said as I pointed to the puddle on the floor. “Oh my god! Guys! Y/N’s water just broke!” Gray shouted as he high fived Sean, Ethan, and Cameron’s husband. “Um, in labor with TWINS can we move this along?” I asked. “Shit, yes. Sorry, babe” Grayson apologized as he kissed my cheek. “Well I drove you guys, so you guys can sit in the back and I’ll drive you to the hospital. Everyone else can follow us there” Ethan said, and we all agreed. 10 minutes later we pulled into the Emergency Room. “My wife is in labor with twins!” Grayson shouted as we emerged into the waiting area. A nurse grabbed a wheelchair and took me to Labor and Delivery. Soon enough a doctor checked me. “You’re about 7 centimeters so we should have babies tonight or early tomorrow,” he said. It was about 6:30 so it was hard telling. Around 9 I got a very strong feeling to push. “Grayson,” I said, and he looked at me. “I really need to push will you get the doctor?” I asked, and he was off. The doctor came back to check me. “Well I’d say you’re ready because I see Baby A so let’s have some twins!” he says as he gloves up. Grayson’s by my side. I can tell he’s nervous as hell and so am I. “C’mon, baby. You got this. We’ve been waiting so long, and they are almost here. Just some pushes and we are parents” he says. “Easy for you to say I am about to push something the size of a watermelon out of something the size of a lemon, not once but twice” I snapped. I felt bad, but this already hurt. I began pushing with the doctor. It hurt, and it hurt like hell. “Damn it, Grayson. Twins? Really? I hate you so much” I screamed as I squeezed his hand. “I love you. You got this. Almost there” he coos. Soon enough the cries of my baby girl filled the room. Baby A, 9:10 P.M. the doctor said. We continued pushing. “She’s not stuck, is she?” Grayson asked. “No, she’s just a little stubborn. I can see her head” the doctor said, and Grayson nodded. I pushed a few more times and the cries of our second daughter filled the room. “Baby B. 9:17 P.M.,” the doctor said as the team of nurses made sure they were all healthy. Soon enough I was handed Baby A. “Grayson,” I said. “Yes, beautiful?” he responded. “I look awful,” I said. “You just gave me my baby girls, you look beautiful,” he said then kissing my forehead. “You already shared your birthday with E now you share it with another set of twins,” I said. “I forgot it was my birthday. Best present ever” he smiled as a nurse handed him Baby B. “God they’re so little and beautiful. No boys or girls for at least 30 years. I want you all to myself” he says looking back and forth at them. “You three are my world” he whispers as a tear rolls down his cheek. “Gray,” I said, and he looked at me. “You ok?” I asked. “I’m just so happy that they are ok and that they are here now” he admitted. “Me too, let’s get your family in here,” I said, and he agreed. He gave me the baby he was holding then headed out to the waiting room.

 Grayson’s POV

I walked out to the waiting room to see my mom, dad, brother, and sister as well as their partners. “So?” Ethan asked. “We have two beautiful little girls and they are ready to meet everyone,” I said as I was greeted with hugs from everyone. Everyone follows me back to Y/N’s room with the twins. My mom immediately starts crying and Ethan has a stupid ass grin on his face. “Who wants to hold one?” Y/N asks. “Me!” my mom and Ethan say simultaneously. “Wash your hands first,” I say. It’s flu season and we don’t need any sick newborns. They wash their hands and come back. Ethan takes one and my mom takes the other. “What are their names?” Cameron asks. “Y/N and I decided we would each get to name one. The one Ethan is holding is the older one which is the one I named which Y/N agreed to, but her name is Addison Rose Dolan” I said. “And the one Lisa is holding is Amelia Bailey Dolan,” Y/N said. “I thought we were doing Renee?” I asked. “They have to have something different. They are identical twins whose names both start with A their middle name has to be different. Besides, I have always loved your middle name” she said. “Thank you, baby,” I said then bent down to kiss her. “They sure look like their daddy,” my mom noticed. “What are you talking about mom? They look like potatoes” Ethan said dramatically. (Of course, right?) “Well, they are the cutest potatoes I have ever seen,” I said as I fixed Addison’s little hat. “They do look a lot like Grayson. I carried them for damn near 9 months and they come out looking like those two as if we need two more of them!” Y/N complains, and we all started laughing. “You’re right two of these morons is enough,” Cameron said. “I just become a dad and you guys are making fun of me” I pouted. “Your wife started it” Ethan said. “Alright, well give me my baby,” I said pulling Addison from Ethan’s arms as she started crying. “I think she’s hungry there, mommy,” I said as I handed her Addison. Amelia stayed quiet over in my mom’s arms. “Someone likes their grandma,” I said nudging my mom’s arm. “She’s so sweet, Grayson. You guys did a beautiful job making babies” she said bouncing the small child in her arms. “It was all Y/N. I had nothing to do with it” I said smiling down at my second little girl. I didn’t realize how much I could love something until I saw my twin girls. My heart feels as if it could explode. I have two beautiful little girls that I love with all of my heart and will spend every second of every day protecting them and their amazing momma. I have the most amazing wife who gave me the best birthday present I could ever ask for.

Y/N’s POV

It’s two weeks later and about a week ago Grayson wanted to girls all to himself. He told me to take a nap so I did just that. Grayson told me that their video this week would be them introducing the twins to the fans. They were both super excited. It was 1 PST or 4 EST which means it is time to watch the original Dolan Twins do their thing. I got onto YouTube while the girls napped. “What’s up, guys! We’re back!” Ethan said excitedly. “We have some special guests this week” Gray beamed. “I think they are the smallest guests we have ever had,” Ethan said and Gray nodded in agreement. “We have the newest additions to the Dolan family. Little Addison and Amelia Dolan” Gray said. “This one is Addison,” Ethan said. “That’s Amelia” Grayson corrected. “How can you tell?” Ethan asked. “Addison is bigger” Gray explained. “Anyway, I have Addison and E has Amelia. They were born on December 16th” Gray informs as Ethan interrupts him. “Which happens to be our birthday too!” he says excitedly as he gives Amelia a baby fist pump. “Anyway, yes they were born on E and I’s birthday. Addison or Addy, for short, was born first. She was born at 9:10 pm and then Amelia, or Lia was born at 9:17 P.M.” Gray told them. “Addison is bigger than Amelia has Grayson told us and was at birth too, right?” E asks and Gray nods. “They were kind of far apart because Lia was being difficult like her daddy and didn’t want to come out. She wasn’t stuck though which is good” Gray says. “Babies don’t too much. They eat, sleep, shit, and cry” Ethan said. “ETHAN” Grayson yelled. “They’re like a week old Gray, they don’t even know what it means,” Ethan said back. “Still watch your mouth,” Gray says sternly as Ethan huffs. “Your daddy is such a hard ass, Addy Rose” Ethan says. “Ethan that goes for all cuss words,” Gray says and E rolls his eyes. “So E do your nieces give you baby fever?” Grayson asks his brother. “I think having my adorable little nieces is enough for Brooke and I right now but maybe in the future, these two will have some cousins to play with. Maybe even some more siblings” Ethan said wiggling his eyebrows towards Grayson. “I think the two we have is enough for now. We want more but not for a little bit. Hopefully, the next one is a boy” Gray wished. “We shall see,” Ethan said. “I know you guys will want to see the twins a lot but they won’t be in many videos. Y/N and I really want them to grow up out of the public eye as much as possible. I’ll be sure to update you guys and they will be in our videos occasionally but not every week. I really hope you guys understand” Gray said. “And with Gray and Y/N having twice the stuff to do with twins we may not post every Tuesday. It will definitely be once a week but I am going to be the only one editing for a while so Gray can help Y/N but we will let you know if it won’t be on Tuesday” Ethan said. “I just want to thank all of you. I would not be able to give Y/N and our girls the life we have without every single one of you” Grayson said. “Yeah you guys are awesome” Ethan agreed. I could see Amelia starting to wiggle around in Grayson’s arms. “What’s wrong little peach?” he asks the baby. I can see her yawn. “How can she yawn if she just woke up?” Ethan asks. “She’s a baby, E. I don’t know,” Grayson said. Soon enough Addison woke up. Neither of them had started crying yet. “I bet you two are hungry, huh?” Grayson asked. “We will wait until you start crying then we will hand you over to mommy,” Gray said. “Anyway, how’s being an uncle?” Grayson asked Ethan. “Pretty cool, I get to snuggle them and love on them, then when the gross stuff like changing diapers and when they spit up happens I can hand them back to you and Y/N,” E said which was true. “Oh an update about Y/N because I see a lot of you asking. She’s good she was able to deliver them naturally so no surgery. She’s an amazing mom and the girls love her just as much as I do. I appreciate all your guys love and concern for my little family” Grayson said as he was interrupted by Lia crying. “Well I think that’s it for this week. Lia needs me to hand her over to Y/N so she can eat” Gray says. He starts to bounce her and she calms for a moment. “Alright well we will see you guys next week,” Ethan says as they both pick up the twin they have been holding. I see them set both of them up so the girls face the camera but they still are supporting their fragile heads. They have each twin laying on one of their arms while tucked into their side to make sure they are supported. They use their other hand to grab their small fingers and put them into a peace sign. “Peace” both boys said as they smiled at the camera with two tiny peace signs coming from my twin girls. I wondered watching where Grayson was. I saw him in the nursery with both twins on his bare chest. I grabbed his phone and opened snapchat. I took a picture of them then captioned. “Sneak peek at this week’s video. Grayson being a good dad! Go check it out!” then locked his phone back up. I kissed his forehead then smiled down at both of my girls. I was happy and content with my life. I wouldn’t change a thing.

(A/N: The first picture is the sign that Grayson and Y/N got Lisa and Sean to tell them they’d be grandparents. The second one is the shirt they got E to tell him Y/N was pregnant. The next two pictures are a combination of what the nursery in New Jersey looks like but with two cribs (the gray crib not the white ones), the better together banner, and both of the girls’ names over the cribs). The next picture is one of the decorations in the NJ nursery. The next picture is decor for the LA nursery. The seventh picture is what the LA nursery looks like. The last two pictures are newborn photos of the twins. None of these photos are mine, credits to the owners. I just wanted to give you guys a visual)

#grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan imagines #grayson dolan blurbs #grayson dolan smut #ethan dolan imagines #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan blurbs #dolan twins #dolan twins imagines #dolan twins smut #dolan twins blurbs #the dolan twins #the dolan twins smut #the dolan twins imagines #the dolan twins blurbs #ethan and grayson #grayson and ethan

[lyannas]

A Thousand Silhouettes - Part Three

Summary: The last thing Brandon Stark remembered was darkness, and it was darkness he woke to.

Brandon Stark survives King’s Landing with scars both physical and emotional. The world as he knew it has changed, and at the center of it all is a bastard boy with his mother’s eyes.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Fandoms: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin Relationships: Brandon Stark & Lyanna Stark, Brandon Stark & Ned Stark, Jon Snow & Brandon Stark Tags: Brandon Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, (just in case), Platonic Relationships, Family Dynamics Chapters: 3/4

Read at AO3, or read here:

XX.

The hunting lodge was Brandon’s paradise. It was a single story cabin on the edge of the wolfswood, made up of four rooms, a kitchen, and a standalone shed behind it. There were no long corridors, only two servants, and best of all, no noise.

Well, no noise until Jon was weaned and the wetnurse took her leave.

Jon had hardly cried in his presence before, but it seemed now that he cried all the time. He cried when he was hungry, cried when he had soiled himself, cried when he was tired, cried when he refused to sleep. Brandon would stay up, rocking the boy in his arms until he himself nearly cried from the agonizing headaches the boy’s screams brought on. He fed him soft foods from his own hands, irrationally fearful that utensils would hurt his soft gums-- and after his experience with a teething, irritable Jon, Brandon decided he would rather do with cleaning his hands half a hundred times a day than accidentally knocking a spoon into his tender gums or sensitive milk teeth.

For the first 92 days, Brandon was sure he had made a mistake. What did he know of raising children, really? Being an older brother was nothing like being a father-- he never spent any nights sitting in front of one of his sibling’s beds too busy worrying over them to go to sleep. He had never had to wake in the middle of the night to rock them back to sleep. Yet here he was, short on sleep, more agitated than usual, eyesight foggier than ever, wondering if he should trade Jon for a quiet hunting lodge.

XXI.

When Jon comes running to him after skinning his knee, when he curls into his side as he sleeps, when he sits on his lap whilst sucking his thumb, when he giggles as he blew raspberries onto his stomach, when his small hands run over the short hairs of his beard, when he calls him “nuncle” and presses wet kisses to his face-- those were the sweet moments that made up for the hard ones. They made up for them a hundred times over.

XXII.

“Nuncle,” Jon called to him, tugging at his hand. “Nuncle, look.”

Brandon’s eyes followed his nephew’s finger to a spot near the woods. There was not much to see; at that distance, everything was blurry and indistinguishable to him, but Jon didn’t understand his uncle’s limitations.

“What is it, Jon?” Brandon kneeled down to his level.

“Dog,” the boy answered. He edged a little closer to his uncle. “Big.”

Brandon squinted, hoping to perhaps catch a glimpse of something dark and moving amongst the trees, but to no avail. He rose to his feet and picked him up.

“What color is it?”

Jon considered his answer. “Black.” His little fist bunched up the back of Brandon’s shirt. His eyes were wide and scoping.

“Don’t be frightened,” Brandon reassured him. “The dog’s all the way over there, and you’re right here, with me.” Still, his nephew’s fist did not relax. “You want to scare off the dog? Roar at it, like a bear. Come now, roar!”

Brandon demonstrated, roaring as loudly as he could toward the direction of the trees. His nephew responded with giggles that rocked his whole body.

“What are you laughing at?” Brandon inquired with a smile. “Roar!”

Brandon roared again, after which Jon mimicked him, throwing both arms up as he yelled something between a roar and a shout. He fell into a fit of giggles immediately after, one that required Brandon to brace his body to keep him from tumbling out of his arms.

“Is the dog gone?” Brandon asked him when his laughs subsided. “Bye-bye, dog?”

“Bye-bye,” Jon repeated, grinning from ear to ear. The two sit on the porch until the smell of dinner wafted from inside the cabin. Brandon kissed his temple and brought him inside.

XXIII.

Brandon visits Winterfell often, as promised. If he went more than a fortnight without making the hour-long journey, Ned would show up at his door instead. Ned’s sullen glares and why-didn’t-you-visits grew tiring after the first few times, thus Brandon made sure to make the journey to Winterfell before it came to that.

Jon had seen two namedays and was at an age where he stopped crying and started speaking his desires, however simple that speech was. The change had made Jon a boy who was rather calm and sweet for his age, as opposed to his cousin Robb, who, despite his newfound speech, still screamed his demands.

They rode for Winterfell with Jon’s little fists gripping the reins, dwarfed by Brandon’s larger hands that covered them. He asked after every edifice that passed and called out the names of the animals he spotted along the way. He had inquired after every soul in the winter town by the time they reached the gates to Winterfell. Brandon hopped off their horse by the stables, and beckoned for Jon to slide off the saddle he had shared with his uncle and into his arms. He carried him inside, where he found Ned and Catelyn in Ned’s solar.

The two paused their conversation upon their entry. Brandon nodded in greeting and put Jon down on his feet.

“Greet your lord father,” Brandon commanded the boy gently, mouth barely able to form the words that made up the necessary lie. Jon clutched his pant leg, hiding behind him. “You were talking my ear off the whole way here, and now you’re playing at being shy? Come now, you saw him just the other day. Jon.”

The sterner tone urged Jon out from behind him. “Hello, father,” he said shyly. Brandon did this best to ignore how the muscles of Catelyn’s jaw shifted beneath her skin.

“Hello, Jon,” Ned returned warmly, walking around the desk to scoop him up in his arms. “Robb has been asking after you ever since you left. Shall we go see Robb?”

Jon nodded, and the two exited the solar together, leaving Brandon and Catelyn alone. Catelyn does not meet his eye, but her annoyance rolls off her in waves.

“You disapprove,” Brandon commented as he idly rubbed his scars.

“It is not my place to approve or disapprove. My husband may do with his bastard as he wishes,” she replied cooly.

“Even love him?”

Her jaw sets. “Even that.”

Brandon chuckled to himself. “Thank your gods you did not marry me, Lady Stark, for I would love him just as much, and our children far less.”

It was an unkind truth, but a truth all the same.

XXIV.

His housemaid snored. Not big, rattling snores, but it was a soft, consistent snore that grated on Brandon’s still sensitive ears. She was lucky she was warm and had lovely tits, else he might have kicked her out of his bed so he could get a full night’s sleep.

Instead, he got up from his bed and pulled on a pair of trousers, moving through the familiar darkness as his hands guided him through the small house. Brandon was half blind in daytime, but damn near fully blind at night. It was touches and textures that led him into Jon’s bedroom.

The boy slept peacefully in his bed; all he could hear was Jon’s soft breathing, a comforting sound that he’d grown to love ever since they lived in this house together. Brandon found the edge of the bed and sat upon it. He gently nudged Jon to the far side of the bed.

“Nuncle,” Jon whined sleepily as he moved over to make room.

“Hush, I’ve gotten less sleep than you,” Brandon grumbled as he pulled the covers over the both of them.

Jon only sighed with the countenance of an old man. When he fell back asleep and his soft, lulling breaths returned, Brandon slipped quickly and easily into slumber.

XXV.

Jon is five when Brandon teaches him to ride a horse. Brandon shared the saddle with him, as they had done before half a hundred times, hands covering his little fists as he showed him how to grip the reins and coax the horse into a trot. His nephew was a quick learner with a sharp mind; it takes only a few turns around the yard before he was leading the horse without his uncle’s help.

“I should have put you on a horse an age ago!” Brandon exclaimed, delighted at the boy’s quick progress. “Look, Jon, you’re doing it all by yourself.”

“I am?” His nephew asked, eyes wide as he briefly diverted his gaze up into Brandon’s face.

“Yes, you are. Shall I get off so you may ride the horse alone?”

“Does Robb ride by himself?”

Brandon grinned. “I’m certain he doesn’t. You’re more like me-- a natural rider. Did you know I started riding when I was even younger than you?” The boy shook his head. “Yes, and your moth--” Brandon caught himself. “Your aunt Lyanna was even earlier. I taught her to ride when I was only a little older than you.”

Jon made a face that meant he was doing some maths in his head. “But you were small,” the boy said.

“Yes, I was, and I was already a better rider than half the men.”

His memory picked at him, nostalgia bled into sorrow, and once again he was thinking of Lyanna. She would approve of her son learning to ride at an early age. In fact, she would surely haunt him if he had allowed Jon to go another year without learning to ride a horse.

“Here, pull back on the reins and make the horse stop,” Brandon instructed. Jon obeyed. “I’m getting off, and you’ll go a few more turns on your own, aye?”

Brandon jumped down from the saddle. His nephew turned his face to look at him in wide-eyed astonishment, reins held tight in his small fists.

“Be brave. I’ll be walking right next to you,” he assured him. The words were enough for fear to give way to trust, and Jon gave a little “hy-ah” before he stirred his horse to walk again.

XXVI.

War arrived again. The Greyjoys had made some noise in Lannisport and brought the might of the Seven Kingdoms upon them.

Brandon had entertained the idea of joining the fight for a while. It would have pleased him to throw some krakens back into the sea, but he was reminded kindly by Ned that a warrior who could not see clearly past 30 paces was useless to everyone.

Instead, Brandon took up Ned’s mantle in Winterfell while his brother fought the king’s war. This meant tending to the troops and lords that passed through and sending enough hunting parties to keep stores stocked, but mostly it meant watching his nephews and niece play together.

He spent more time with Catelyn too, who often sat across from him in the den as she embroidered or sewed. It almost felt like they were wed, and he the Lord of Winterfell, as it was once meant to be. Granted, they hardly spoke to each other and there was a swell to her middle that she did not care to explain to him, but perhaps that was as it was meant to be too.

XXVII.

The boys were asleep on the floor, tangled up in each other, while Sansa sat on his lap, curled up against his chest as her bright blue eyes opened and closed, fighting sleep. The night was so peaceful, and the den so warm, that Brandon had closed his eyes too.

Then suddenly, Catelyn wept. Her sobs were likely meant to be quiet and soft, but they woke Brandon anyways.

He rubbed his eyes. “What is it?” He asked her groggily.

Her eyes flickered to his in surprise. “Nothing,” she insisted hastily, wiping away at the tears on her fair face.

Brandon stared at her through heavy-lidded eyes, absentmindedly rubbing circles on Sansa’s back the way that Jon liked it at her age. “He’ll be home soon,” he said in a low voice. “It’s nearly over. The Greyjoys are retreating, the war is won, and Ned’s just cleaning up the coast, tossing whatever krakens that wash up on shore back into the sea.”

Catelyn nodded as she wept. Even weeping she is graceful and pretty.

“He may even be home in time for that,” he added, and gestured to her round belly.

Catelyn nodded again. “I want him to be,” she sniffled.

It was Brandon’s turn to nod.

XXVIII.

Eddard Stark returned to Winterfell, and Arya Stark followed after a single day.

Brandon had never seen Ned so delirious with joy. He had carried his daughter all over the castle for days before Brandon had a chance to hold her himself.

“It’s Lyanna,” he murmured, fingers trembling as he brushed the soft wisps of dark hair. “Gods be good, Ned, it’s her.”

“I know,” Ned answered with a somber smile. “I know.”

XXIX.

While caught up in Ned’s return and Arya’s birth, Brandon almost neglected to notice another new addition to Winterfell.

“Tell me your name,” Brandon commanded of the dark-haired boy when he found him petting a horse in the stables. He knew his name already, knew his reason for being here, but he could not let himself go unknown. It was the Stark in him, still clinging to fondness of Winterfell, that required him to know who its new lodger was.

“Theon Greyjoy,” the boy answered tremulously.

“How old are you?”

“Ten.”

“Do you understand why you’re here?”

Theon lowered his eyes but did not answer.

“I asked you a question.”

“I understand why."

“Do you know who I am?”

Theon shook his head.

“I’m Brandon Stark. I’m Lord Stark’s older brother.”

“But you are not Lord Stark?”

“I am not. Be glad of this, for my brother’s heart is kinder than mine.”

The boy lowered his eyes again.

Brandon supposed he should pity the boy; he had been torn away from his home so he could be held as a glorified hostage of the crown. It was necessary, of course, as all actions taken in politics and war were deemed necessary.

“You will mind yourself under Lord Stark’s care.” Or rather, your father should mind himself.

“Yes, my lord.”

“I’m no lord, boy. ‘Brandon’ will do.”

XXX.

Jon took his lessons with Maester Luwin, who after instructing Robb in Winterfell, rode to their cabin to deliver the very same lessons.

Brandon, who had been glad to put such lessons behind him, did not sit with them as the maester explained maths and history to his young nephew. It was usually a restless couple of hours, as Jon was his only worthwhile company at the cabin. As they studied, he sat on the porch steps, taking a whetstone to his already-sharp sword.

He continued in this until the maester’s approaching footsteps bid him to stop. Brandon rose to greet the old man, who smiled sagely at him in greeting.

“He does well in his lessons,” the maester informed him. “Bright boy. He is not so fond of maths and writing, but he spares his attention for history. He spares more attention on the whole when he doesn’t take these lessons with his half-brother. I’m glad on the days that I see him here and not in Winterfell.”

Brandon warmed at image of his two nephews distracting each other when the good-natured maester wasn’t looking. “He’s smart, unlike me. He’s always asking me questions about those kings and lords you tell him about, but I tell him to save them for you.”

The maester chuckled. “I’ll be on my way. I hope to come by tomorrow as well.”

“Thank you, maester.”

Brandon saw the maester off before returning indoors, where Jon still sat at the kitchen table, books strewn in front of him. He looked bored and slumped in his seat, but upon seeing his uncle return, he straightened and lit up. “You sharpened your sword,” his nephew remarked suddenly. “But you said you were going to let me do it!”

“I had to do something while you and the maester sat in here,” Brandon returned with shrug and smile. He sheathed the sword and placed it on the table between them.

“Maybe you should sit with us and learn something,” Jon mumbled sullenly. For a boy of seven he could be remarkably mouthy, but that was most likely a consequence of Brandon’s lenient child-rearing.

“It’s more a torment for me than for you-- without you I’ve got nothing to do.”

Jon sighed. “You can train, or go riding, or make a new cloak like you promised.”

“Those things are more fun with you.”

Jon sighed again, and Brandon ruffled his hair. Jon half-heartedly pushed his hand away. He was wearing that sullen, serious expression he usually wore when he was in deep thought. Brandon knew to wait patiently until a question was formed.

“Uncle,” Jon began, his eyes focused on his finger as it idly traced patterns in the leather sheath. “What’s a bastard?”

Brandon supposed he ought to have known the question would be coming. He had never said it to Jon, and surely Ned never did either, but he knew the word was eventually going to introduce itself to his nephew. “A bastard is a child born from people who are not married,” Brandon explained.

“Like Lady Catelyn and father?”

“Yes, they’re married, so their children are trueborn.”

“Robb and me have the same father,” Jon noted. “We’re brothers.”

A lie was a lie, and Brandon hated lies-- but he also learned to hold his tongue, even when it wanted to speak the truth. “Yes. But your mothers are different.”

“So I’m a bastard, but Robb isn’t?”

“He’s a Stark. You’re a Snow.” That much, Brandon supposed, would always be true. His nephew was a bastard no matter who he said his parents were.

Jon grew silent again, making that same thoughtful expression as before. “Who is my mother?”

Despite his better senses, despite the fact that he knew he would be asked the question one day, Brandon’s mouth went dry. He wanted so sorely to answer his nephew with the truth-- of who his mother was, even who his father was, why he was here, why he mattered, why Brandon loved him despite it all.

But he couldn’t. Not now, when he wouldn’t understand why or how or the importance of keeping it a secret.

“I don’t know who your mother was, Jon,” Brandon answered quietly, hoping that lowering his volume would soften the pain of the lie. The burden of this secret felt heavier now than it ever had been before.

Jon appeared crestfallen at this response. He lowered his eyes back to the sheathed sword and gave a sigh that aged him beyond his seven years.

A rush of affection swelled inside his chest, and Brandon found himself taking hold of his nephew’s chin to raise his face. “Stark or Snow, it makes no difference to me. We share the same blood, you and I. We share that, and so much more.”

We share fates. We share a home. We share a life.

Jon Snow pulled his face away as tears welled up in his eyes, and for a devastating second Brandon thinks he’s said something to upset him. His nephew suddenly rose to his feet, then rushed to embrace Brandon, cheek pressed to his uncle’s broad chest.

Brandon returned the embrace, his nose buried in Jon’s soft hair. In a moment that spanned a lifetime, Brandon tried to imagine this with a son of his own, or with Robb, with Sansa or Arya, but nothing felt as sweet, as right as this. It had been a hard and hurting path the gods had set him on, but it seemed to him that they had led him into something kind.

“Alright, Jon?” Brandon murmured into the boy’s hair. He nodded in response, tickling Brandon’s nose. “Good, because I think I’ve another sword in the shed that needs sharpening.”

Jon grinned when he pulled away from his uncle, and ran to take a head start.

#a thousand silhouettes #brandon stark #jon snow #fic #gotfic #asoiaf