#remember when sophie thinks of them as the sweetest couple ever or something like that???

[the-way-astray]

obsessed with slightly-toxic!aldella.

them being nervous around each other the way you would be around someone you recently developed a crush on and not someone you’ve been married to for at least thirty years. them not really being attracted to each other beyond looks and surface-level kindness. them always wanting to look and act their best around each other because they aren’t confident that the other will love them no matter what.

alden calling della over-the-top romantic nicknames like “my love” and “my dear”, thinking that surely acts of love reside in obvious romantic gestures and not the trust you have in each other.

them having trust issues and putting their oaths to the council over their relationship and spying on each other. them keeping secrets from each other about their assignments.

alden continuing to pursue della even after she rejected him, thinking that it was meant to be because he could feel it, and thinking himself simply persistent for not letting it go, instead of creepy. della mistaking infatuation with adoration or admiration and finally caving.

them never talking to each other about the alvar situation, and instead individually going through procedures to try to cope. them treating each other as simply a roommate and an equal instead of a spouse and a shoulder to lean on.

alden buying della a house because he’d always been taught that large romantic gestures matter and that all women like pretty things without considering what she would like. della being ecstatic because she was taught that men doing grand gestures like that meant they cared about you without considering that she probably could’ve bought a similar house for herself.

them never really talking about the alina situation, and instead getting awkward every time it’s brought up because they aren’t sure how the other will react to the reminder. them never really learning to laugh it off and look back on it as a ridiculous thing that happened.

them never just relaxing around one another. them never talking and sharing silly stories and joking around. ever.

alden never telling della about that “perfect match” he thought he would end up with, because he’s scared that della will judge him for liking someone before her.

them dressing up all fancy to go to some party and dancing or holding hands the entire time to maintain what appears to be picture-perfect relationship. them getting so emotionally exhausted that the second they’ve attained privacy again, they separate themselves.

and despite all this, them continuing to have the flawed belief that their relationship is perfect in every way.

#kotlc #kotlc alden #kotlc della #alden vacker #della vacker #aldella #most of this is actually quite canon-compliant i think #been thinking about this for a while #remember when sophie thinks of them as the sweetest couple ever or something like that??? #idk their entire relationship feels like a facade that they themselves believe

[imherongraystairstrash]

So between a few fics I’ve read between various fandoms as of late, I came up with the cutest idea ever, with a hint of angst of course. I am gifting it to you because you’re an amazing human being!

So you know those fics where a character gets de-aged and sort of keeps their memories, but because they’re younger and *waves hand* magic, it’s mostly just impressions of the people around them? What if prior to TID, Will got hit with a potion or spell or something that de-aged him to like a 5-8 year old or something. And he doesn’t really remember his curse, but what he does know is that Fairwell have been raising him, so he thinks they’re his parents? And calls them as such? And he’s just the sweetest little boy, always chasing after them or Jem, wanting to be read to or picked up and cuddled. And then the potion or spell wears off after a couple of weeks of this, and they have to go back to dealing with normal Will, who claims not to remember anything of what happened, but totally does, and acts worse than normal accordingly.

Uh oh, I got carried away with a fic againnn. Thank you so much for this amazing request though! I would post it all here, but I’m not even done and it’s almost at the 2500 word mark, so I’m posting this chunk, and if you enjoy, you can look out for the second part! Here it goes:

Will Herondale De-age fic (part 1)

“Jem?” Charlotte asked, incredulously. “Why, may I inquire, do you have a toddler in your arms?!”

“Mama!” The toddler, who looked an awful lot like someone Charlotte knew, squealed. He began frantically squirming in Jem’s arms, and reaching out to Charlotte, desperate for her to hold him.

Charlotte took the toddler from Jem’s arms. He shot her a grateful look as the child ceased his squirming and put his head on her shoulder and promptly began playing with a loose strand on the bodice of her dress.

“Whose child is this? And why does he think I’m his mother? And why does he look exactly like Will?”

“That’s because he is Will.”

Jem must have gone mad. That was the only other explanation. “James Carstairs, there better be a good explanation as to why you seemed to have kidnapped a child from the streets!”

“I did not! That is Will, Charlotte. Somehow, he got turned into a—a child while we were patrolling.”

“What do you mean?! Who did this to him?”

“I don’t know! I was not present at the moment. All I know is that I went to go find him and there he was!”

Charlotte held the boy at an arm's length and looked at his face. Sure enough, the little boy had eyes the color of blue glass. His unruly raven hair curled in a pile on top of his head. He stared at her and she knew.

“By the Angel!” Charlotte exclaimed.

The child—Will— giggled.

“Oh, Will. What happened to you?”

“Lottie, have you seen my—” Henry paused as he came into the threshold and looked at little Will. “Whose child is that?”

“Ours, apparently.”

Henry looked at her, confused. “What?”

“It’s Will.”

“Will? But Will is sixteen. Why is he so tiny?”

“That’s what we are trying to figure out.”

“Papa!” Will exclaimed, opening and closing his fists. 

Henry’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m not your father.” He said. Charlotte noted that he looked at her back, perhaps so horrified, he was hoping to hide from Will’s gaze by moving behind Charlotte.

“You’re not?” Will asked, his voice so small, Charlotte had to suppress the “aw” that was building up in her heart.

Henry seemed to think it was adorable too, and not nearly as frightening, because when he spoke again, it was softly. “No, I’m Henry.” 

Will nodded. “Papa.”

Henry shot a look at Charlotte. The want to coo at Will was short-lived. She was about to pull out her hair in stress of what to do.

“Here, Henry. Hold Will for a moment, would you?” She said, putting him in Henry’s arms. 

Henry looked tense for a moment, not knowing what to do, until Will wrapped his arms around his neck tightly. A small smile spread across Henry’s face.

“Who do we call?” Charlotte said, “what will the consul say? He’ll think we killed Will and tried to replace him with a Nephilim child. He won’t even try us with the mortal sword. This is so absurd, it wouldn’t be necessary.” 

“Charlotte, I still feel our Parabatai bond; it’s peculiar and faint, but it’s still there.”

“Is it still on him?” Charlotte asked. 

“I haven’t checked yet.” Jem said. “The first thing I did was come home, I–I didn’t know what else to do, Charlotte. I panicked!” 

“It’s alright, Jemmy.” Charlotte said, patting his shoulder, “we will figure it out and fix this.”

Charlotte turned to Henry and Will. The latter was snuggled up against Henry’s shoulder and sucking his thumb, perfectly content to stay there for the rest of the day. 

Charlotte walked towards them and moved his thumb and pulled his shirt down just enough to see the edges of where his parabatai rune began. 

“He still has his runes.” Henry said.

Charlotte shook her head. “He has only his Parabatai and Clairvoyance rune. Whatever dark magic he’s under cannot break something as sacred and powerful as a shadowhunter’s first rune nor the Parabatai rune. Which is a relief for when we manage to change him back.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to change him back?” Jem said, a worried expression on his face as he looked at his parabatai. 

Charlotte put her arms around him. “Of course we will, Jem. Don’t you fret.”

…

“He’s much more pleasant when he can’t talk much.” Sophie said, side-eyeing Will as he padded around the room. He stopped in front of her and offered her the cog Henry had given him to keep him entertained. Sophie took it hesitantly, and Will tottered away, in search of something else. 

“He’s definitely more affectionate.”

“Well,” Jem said, “the innocence of childhood.”

“Right,” Sophie said slowly, looking around the room, before turning back around, saying she had work to attend to, but that she’d come back if her help was necessary.

Jem began reading the book in his lap, but he found that he was reading without processing the words, and he kept having to read the same paragraph over and over again. No matter how many times he read it, all he could think about was how the last time he checked his parabatai rune, it seemed to be getting lighter; a dark gray instead of it’s normal, stark black. He hadn’t told Charlotte yet, though.

Speaking of Charlotte, she was speaking, now. “It would need to be a trusted warlock.” she said, before she was interrupted by a tugging on her dress. She froze and turned her gaze downward to find Will, his blue eyes wide open, staring up at her. He put his hands up and Charlotte sighed as she bent down and picked him up. “As I was saying,” she continued. “A trusted warlock would be necessary. I don’t want to know what would happen if the Clave were to find out about our…situation.”

With Will’s head rested on Charlotte’s collarbone and his fingers playing with her necklace, Jem realized two things. The first was that Charlotte looked like the symbol of empowerment; she was a defender of the fact that just because women were mothers, it didn’t mean they were any less capable of leading a group of people, nor that they are, by any means, weaker. The second was that Charlotte was less of an older sister and more of a mother than any of them had thought. The same went for Henry. No matter how old they thought they were, they all still relied on Henry and Charlotte, and they needed them more than they cared to admit. 

“Who can we trust?”

“That is the question of the century, Jem.” Charlotte sighed. 

“I can’t imagine Ragnor Fell would say anything to the Clave. We could ask him.” Henry suggested.

“Except he never seems to be available.” Charlotte said.

It’s true; even Jem knew that Ragnor wasn’t very keen on assisting the Branwells for matters that he wasn’t forced to do. 

“However,” Charlotte continued. “I will send a message to him regardless, as it won’t hurt to try, and there is nobody else I could think that wouldn’t report to the Clave.”

“It's a good thing that the only thing Ragnor hates more than us is the Clave.”

Henry frowned, “Ragnor hates us?”

“No, darling, he just hates helping us with our problems.”

Henry’s frown deepened, like the idea of not wanting to help people confused him greatly. 

“Miss!” Sophie exclaimed, coming into the room, a little bit breathless, suggesting that she had sprinted there. 

“Sophie, what’s the matter?”

“The Consul,” she gasped, “he’s here!”

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “By the Angel!” She thrusted Will into Henry’s arms. “Hide him!” 

She followed Sophie out of the room, putting on a mask of cool calmness. “And don’t look suspicious.”

She closed the door behind her and Henry whirled to face Jem. “Where do we put him?!” He asked.

Jem shrugged, and looked around the room frantically. 

“You two are hopeless.” Jessamine said with cool indifference, as she slipped off her glove and examined her fingernails.

“What about here?” Henry asked, sitting Will down on a bookshelf. Will giggled, falling off. Henry let out a yell and caught him before he could hit the ground. 

“Yes, Mr. Consul, right this way.” Charlotte was saying.

Henry’s eyes widened in panic. As the doors opened, he quickly hid Will behind he’s back. 

“He’s right here.” Charlotte said, gesturing to Henry.

“Mr. Branwell,” Consul Wayland said. “I have to speak with you on matters concerning…” he frowned at the outstretched hand Henry hadn’t shaken yet and then he squinted his eyes. “Is that a child behind you?”

The residents of the London Institute held their breaths (well, except for Jessamine, of course) before Henry finally spoke.

“Er—yes. We’re playing hide-and-seek.”

“Hide-and-seek.”

“Why yes, it’s a game played by children for entertainment in which—”

“Yes, Mr. Branwell, I know what hide-and-seek is.” Said the Consul, annoyed. “Anyway, there is an issue with a group of werewolves from Bath, who are migrating to London and you’d do well to keep an eye on them in the next few weeks.”

“And why would we do that? Surely they haven’t done anything wrong in Bath.” Charlotte said. 

The Consul ignored her. “It is of utmost importance you report any strange behaviors.”

“My wife asked you a question, Consul Wayland. I should think it’s important and that it should be answered.”

“Did she now?” The Consul asked, unenthusiastically.

“As a matter of fact, she did.”

“It’s alright, Henry. We’ll look into it, Consul Wayland. Thank you for the personal message.” Charlotte said, diplomatically, leading him away from the library and out the door.

The Consul paused. “Who’s child even is that?”

“A Nephilim family from Idris needed someone to watch over one of their children while they attended a funeral.” Henry said, without skipping a beat.

“Yes. Henry and I agreed to watch over this little one for the afternoon.” Charlotte said sadly. “It was the least we could do.”

“Oh, which family?”

“The Cartwrights.” Henry said.

 “Oh. Well, best wishes.”

“Thank you very much.” Charlotte said. “Sophie will see you out.”

The Consul nodded and turned back around, striding out of the room with Sophie in tow.

Jem released the breath he had been holding in since Sophie brought the message about the Consul’s arrival.

“Why the Cartwrights?” he asked.

Charlotte took a fussing Will from Henry’s arms and smoothed down his hair. “Oh, yes! Henry darling that was brilliant! The Cartwrights have so many children that nobody can keep track of each one. And there actually is a funeral being held today, though I don’t suppose the Consul will look into whether they are actually there or not.”

Jem raised his eyebrows before asking, “Well, what now?”

“We keep working.” Charlotte said with a sigh.

...

Tagging: 

@autumnangel20 @tsccreatorsnet @atla-lok143 @hitheresomeoneusingthus @rinadragomir @youngreckless @julemmaes @cupcakesandkittens @no-scones-allowed @fictionally-fantastic @stxr-thxif @itsdaughterofthemoon @dustandshadowsworld @jordeliasupremacy @cordelia-cardale @celias 

Send me a message if you want to be tagged! If I forgot to tag you, it could because you changed your url and I can’t find you 🙈 If that’s the case, just send me a message and I’ll update the tag list!

#will herondale #charlotte fairchild #henry branwell #henry fairchild #charlotte branwell #jem carstairs #sophie collins #jessamine lovelace #de-age #tsc fanfic #tid fanfiction #tid fanfic #fairwell #henry and charlotte #jem and Will #pre-clockwork angel

[writingmanaged]

So I just recently found your blog- and I absolutely love it! 💕✨ Could you please do a Jem Carstairs x fem reader scenario where Jem and the reader has been dating for a while in secret, but Will eventually finds out and teases them for it? Please and thank you 💕✨

A/N: Thank you so much, you are so sweet! I love the idea, I had so much fun writing it!

Fandom: The Infernal Devices (Shadowhunter Chronicles)

Ship: Jem Carstairs x Reader

Type: Fluff

Words: 1,511

Secret (Jem Carstairs x Reader)

It was a quiet day in the institute... And of course, the past tense was used very rightfully. Silence didn't quiet suit the London Institute. And that was alright. The shadowhunters who lived there couldn't have it any way differently and neither could Y/n.

Y/n was filled with happiness over the past month. You would too if the guy you were in love with for years had asked you out. She had yet to believe it. She woke up everyday thinking I'm going to see my crush again today. And then she would giggle to herself, as she had to correct the thought by replacing crush with escort.

But they kept quiet about it. She had no idea why. Jem hadn't really asked for it. But the day after he asked her, they had both been very quiet during breakfast and so they reached the conclusion it was a secret. She had always wondered if he had told anyone about this. Of course, one particular person came to her mind. His parabatai, Will Herondale. She thought he probably knew even before she did. Parabatai didn't keep secrets from each other. She knew she wouldn't if she had one.

She went to the kitchen and made breakfast for the both of them. She smiled at the thought of bringing him breakfast in bed. She was glad Sophie wasn't there. She said she would shop for ingredients for scones. Y/n felt nervous around her. It seemed Sophie could see the hidden meaning behind every single one of her smiles.

She placed the scones on the tray and saw Church the cat, who favoured Jem as much as Y/n did, staring at her. "Oh don't look at me like that. I didn't share his bed, I was in my room the entire night!" She blushed. She knew the cat's thoughts were probably something like this food better be for me but she knew if a human knew what she was doing, that would be their question.

She quickly ran up the stairs, her feet being as light as Church's, and quietly opened the door to Jem's bedroom. It was still dark with only a few rays of sunlight coming in through the slides the curtains did not cover.

Jem looked like a literal angel, like the one who's blood he shared, but even more pure. Y/n felt so lucky to have the right to call that man her own, even if she didn't dare to do so out loud. She quietly sat beside him on the bed and placed the tray on it. But Jem, being a light sleeper, slowly opened his silvery eyes. "Y/n?" He mumbled her name in a still sleepy tone, and to her it was the most melodic sound in the world.

"Good morning, Jem. I'm so sorry to wake you up. But I thought of making you breakfast." She smiled gently and Jem's face lit up. "Oh dear, you are simply the sweetest." He told her. He placed the tray a little bit further away, where there would be no danger of it breaking and gently took her arm. He pulled her down, so that she fell right into his arms.

"Won't you look at that? I fell for you. Again." She chuckled and Jem laughed gently. He stroke her hair and rubbed her back in circles. She stared at his gorgeous face. It was perfect, every single aspect of it. But at the moment she was focused on one part of it.

Those light pink lips. Jem had already kissed her ones and it was the most beautiful moment in her entire life. She was sure that if heaven ever came to earth, it was during that one kissing. They were in his favourite spot in London, a bridge. He had brought her there for a walk and after confessing his feelings he gave her the most passionate kiss in the world.

Perhaps it was egoistical, but she wanted to taste it again. "What is it? What are you thinking?" She heard the angel's voice speak. But she could not answer with words. All she could do was connect their lips. There it was again, she was back to heaven with her guardian angel.

The kiss was deep but gentle. At first she was leading but he soon let all his being melt into the kiss. He placed his hand on her cheek as he continued to kiss her with all his might. His other hand was gently on her back, on the very spot it had to be for her dress to be off, but he didn't dare make a move.

She was about the break the kiss and tell him to continue, when she heard a whistle from the doorframe and they both departed. Right there, under the wooden doorframe, stood Will Herondale with the most stupid grin on his face. "My, my, James. When we were sharing our news yesterday you forgot to mention that. Unless it was an one time unplanned thing of course, in which case I am very surprised and maybe slightly proud."

The nerving assole!! How dare he speak like that of you? Your fiance's parabatai truly had a way to anger you with his mere greeting. "Of course not." Jem spoke up calmly as he sat up on his bed and held your hand. "I am sorry I didn't tell you any earlier. But I would really appreciate it if you didn't speak like this of my fiance."

Will's grin disappeared and he blinked. "Fiance?" Remember how Y/n was earlier wondering if Will knew? At least she got her answer now. She cleared her throat and stood up. "Um... I should go. Jessamine told me to go by her room. So uh... See you! The breakfast is still warm so eat. Farewell!" She said quickly and raced out of the room in embarrasment. Farewell, really Y/n?

The rest of her morning moved smoothly. She trained with Charlotte and had a lovely chat with Jessamine. During both, she was was thinking about Jem Carstairs and Jem Carstairs only. And during both, she did not dare utter a word about him.

At lunch time, the parabatai pair joined them last. Jem's face was decorated with a magnificent smile as soon as he saw you and Will was wearing his usual asshole smirk. Thankfully, it fitted with all of his outfits.

Jem sat beside you and held your hand. "Hello, darling. How was your day?" He asked you and everyone looked over to your seats in surprise. Will's face had never been so mischievous. "Yes my fellow shadowhunters and not" He pointed at Sophie at the end who gave him a rude gesture. "Our dear James and Y/n are engaged! They have been for a month in secret, the sneaky beings."

Y/n blushed but she couldn't do anything but awkwardly smile. Soon everyone was at them, hugging them and congratulating them. Everyone but Will, but Y/n supposed it was because he had already congratulated Jem earlier.

Will was smiling during the whole evening that they spend talking about the two of them. And yet Y/n could see him looked at them melancholically when he thought nobody was looking, and even glaring at them at times. He even threw a couple of sarcastic comments, though not as rude as they usually were.

When everyone went to sleep, Jem held Y/n's hand and they had a nightly walk around the institute. Jem was saying something about how beautiful the stars were and talking about how she was his own star. And while it was really sweet, her mind was somewhere else.

"Hey Jem?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Is Will okay? He didn't seem himself today." She asked him, her voice showing some serious concern.

"between us, I doubt Will is ever himself." Jem answered generally, something he did rather often.

"Yes but today it seemed as if he hated me. More than usual." She managed a fake laugh.

"He doesn't hate you... Look, Will is complicated. But as for today... I think he was jealous."

Y/n laughed at that. "What? You think he was in love with me?"

"I'd hope not." Jem replied honestly. He thought Y/n was so lovable that it was never an unlikely option. "He is jealous of how close you are in my heart. It's as close as he is. That's all. You know like a child when they have a new brother or sister and are jealous of the attention they get from their parents. He'll get over it. Eventually."

"So eventually..." She used his exact word. "He will stop teasing me?"

The cold breeze of the London night flew between them. Jem took off his coat and placed it over her shoulders, wrapping his arm around her, bringing her as close to his body as possible while they continued to walk. "Oh, dear, the teasing will never stop. In fact, it'll be even more intense once he gets to know you and like you."

#tid #the infernal devices headcanons #the infernal devices #the infernal devices x reader #tid x reader #will herondale #jem carstairs x reader #jem carstairs #will herondale x reader #london institute

[dargeereads]

Back in Bliss by Lexi Blake writing as Sophie Oak

Back in Bliss, an all-new sexy romance in the Nights in Bliss, Colorado Series from New York Times bestselling author Lexi Blake writing as Sophie Oak is available now! 

Logan Green is back in Bliss, but only for a few weeks to help out at the sheriff’s office.

Everything changes when Seth Stark strolls into town with Georgia Dawson on his arm.

Seth’s arrival is anything but a happy accident. He always dreamed of a big house on the river

and a wife he could share with his best friend, Logan. After building a software empire, his only goal has been to make that dream come true. He just needed the perfect woman.

Georgia is still haunted by the dark, troubled man who saved her life. She can’t get Logan out of

her head. Her boss brought her to Bliss to help him decorate his new summer home, but when

Logan Green walks through the door she discovers Seth has something different in mind.

Seth has a plan for their mutual happily ever after, but he never dreamed that coming home

would put all their lives in danger.

Re-released in a second edition with new content.

Download your copy today! 

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Excerpt: 

“Holy shit.” Logan practically beamed at the thing that looked like it could eat her. “Seth! Seth, get in here!”

He went to the door and yelled for Seth again. 

Seth ran in, his eyes wide and his body covered only in a towel. A little towel. A tiny white towel that contrasted with his tan skin and had been wrapped over ridiculously muscled hips. He had those notches, the ones she’d always been sure some artist Photoshopped onto male models because no one could be that perfect. His dark hair was wet, curling above his shoulders. Moisture clung to his every muscle and, holy hell, he had a lot of them. They hid underneath his perfectly tailored suits.

Georgia forgot about the crazy-ass creature that had come straight out of some danger-in-the-wild documentary and watched the two gorgeous predators who had invaded her room. 

She pulled the covers up to her neck, aware that she didn’t look anything like they did. 

“Maurice.” Seth took a step forward. “Wow. How the hell long do moose live, man? It’s totally Maurice. You can see where Hiram tried to take him down. There’s a scar on his nose.”

Logan moved in, too, and she could see the easy way the two men related. For a moment she saw the kids they had been, friends forever. God, she’d never had a friend like that. 

Logan opened the window and she heard a loud chuffing noise. “He kicked Hiram in the groin. It was a damn lucky thing the man already had three kids because I heard nothing worked the same after. Hey, boy. You remember me?”

Another huff and she was about to believe the thing knew how to communicate. 

Seth looked over at her, his eyes glinting. “We don’t get a ton of moose around here. Maurice is a legend. The people of Bliss say that if he shows up at your place, you’re blessed. Meant to be here. He’s the welcoming committee.”

Logan laughed. “What no one will tell you is he’s a total snack whore. If you leave a Snickers bar on the porch, he will show up lickety-split. When Laura finally got comfy, I snuck some chocolate onto her porch so she would feel welcome.”

“I’m glad she stayed. I heard she got married,” Seth said. 

Logan nodded. “Got a kid now. That’s why I’m here. Her husbands need some paternity leave. I heard it’s a girl.”

Their shared history was right there, a palpable thing between them. It was almost as though she could reach out and touch it, feel the warmth of it. Logan and Seth felt like a family. 

What was she doing here?

Once again, like most of her life, she was the outsider. Even among her brothers, she’d felt it. Chase and Ben had each other. Mark and Dare had been tight. And she and Win had been so far apart in age that they couldn’t connect on a brother-sister level. She’d been alone. The only child whose mother wasn’t up to snuff. The only one without money when the tide had turned. 

Logan looked down at her, his eyes softening. “Georgia, I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean a word of what I said. To either of you.”

She nodded, feeling awkward. They were here in her bedroom. It was a bit surreal. She turned her attention back to the moose. 

“So it’s not something that’s going to attack?” She kept the blanket around her neck. Yeah, that was another way she was different. She wasn’t gorgeously perfect like them. She’d tried the whole diet thing, and she wasn’t cut out for it. 

“Maurice is a sweetie, but I won’t lie. The first time I saw him, I peed my own damned pants and ran screaming for my mommas,” Logan said on a laugh. He reached a hand out, pressing it against the screen, his eyes misting like he was reaching for his past. “He won’t hurt you. He wants to say hello. And he probably smelled the bacon. Shit. My bacon.”

Logan turned and took off at a dead run for the kitchen.

Seth touched the screen, too. “Hey, Maurice. Thanks for the welcome.”

When he turned back to Georgia, he sported the sweetest smile. He jumped onto her bed, not a hint of self-consciousness on his face as he settled in beside her. “How did you sleep? My bed’s better, by the way. It’s huge. Built for three.”

“Good for you and whatever ménage you choose to invite. Could you go away so I can get dressed?” Last night seemed like a dream, and more than a little like a nightmare. God, what had she been thinking? Seth wanted her to tempt Logan into a ménage? He was insane. She was insane for not immediately walking out of the cabin and hoofing it to Malibu and the safety of Win’s minicastle where she could make like Rapunzel. She would barricade herself in and then keep her hair cut because she was done with men. 

He smiled, an intimate thing that threatened to curl her toes. “I thought we settled that last night.”

She sighed and wished she was strong enough to not look at that towel, praying it would flop open and she would get a good view of what Seth had down under. Maybe it was small. Like tiny. 

Did it matter? He was the sweetest man she’d ever met. He was kind and good. She wasn’t about to reject him because he had a small penis. It wasn’t like sex was all that awesome anyway. 

Logan had a big penis. She’d felt it rubbing against her when he’d kissed her like there was no tomorrow. She thought about Logan’s penis a lot. More than a lot. 

Nope. She wasn’t going to reject anyone based on penis size. She was going to reject them because she wasn’t about to get her heart broken again. 

 

About Lexi Blake

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lexi Blake lives in North Texas with her husband, three kids, and the laziest rescue dog in the world. She began writing at a young age, concentrating on plays and journalism. It wasn’t until she started writing romance that she found success. She likes to find humor in the strangest places. Lexi believes in happy endings no matter how odd the couple, threesome or foursome may seem.

Connect with Lexi

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorlexiblake/

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#Back in Bliss #Lexi Blake #Sophie Oak #am reading #tbr #book love #book obsessed

[thelostsmiles]

If this is how I feel with having just seen him, I can’t even imagine how it’ll be meeting him one day...

This year has been a blessing. April and May have been my favorite so far. I wanted to write about Letters Live in NY this past weekend but how could I when I haven’t even written about the IW premiere? I share my moment with you now :) It’s long but it’s everything I want to say and pictures are included so if you’re up for it, enjoy x

I had already been planning to go to the Avengers Infinity War LA premiere since last year. I asked for the day off and things were looking good.

The premiere was on Monday. With so many high profile celebrities attending, I expected a big crowd. Even so, I underestimated the event. I got there on Sunday early afternoon and there were already about 40 people in front of me. I did not lose hope though. Night time came and the workers started putting up tall, black barricades along the sidewalk, the same sidewalk where we were standing waiting. Everyone around me got discouraged because it seemed we wouldn’t even be able to see them walk the red carpet (it was actually purple in representation of Thanos). I felt a little anxious about it but I was already there and I was in it for the long-haul. After a chilly night, morning came and people started putting away the camping gear they had laid out. Some women left to use public restrooms to change into nicer clothes and others left to get breakfast. I had formed an alliance with two comic book aficionados in front of me and a couple of lovely teenage girls behind me who were there to see Seb. We watched each others place in line as we took turns leaving our spot for necessities. I refused to drink and eat too much in fear that I’d miss an announcement or something of the sort. Around 11am, we saw police officers come near us and they started taking measurements up against the black gates that were in place. They didn’t give us any updates but we kept on eye on them and tried to listen to their conversation. Our biggest fear was that they would block every one and nobody would get to see a single thing. About 15 minutes later, I saw them from a distance coming back with tall and wide hedges that were to be placed next to the ends of the gates to look pretty. They were closing off everyone that wasn’t in the very front inside of this bullpen looking box. I was right next to the closing section. I did not just sleep on the cold, hard floor for nothing. I was not about to miss my opportunity of seeing Benedict for the first time. The group in front of me asked the people in front of them if they would squeeze forward to allow us to get closer behind them. Surprisingly, they did. And that’s when I somehow managed to get into the box right before the hedges went up and they closed everyone else off. It ended up being about 100-150? fans in the box. I had made it! I would be getting a wrist band guaranteeing that I would see the stars... the one star I was there for.

After a couple more hours and a few issues here and there, the time had come. I was at the very front up against the gate. I was quite happy because since I’m short, there’s no way I’d get to see anything if I was in the back with taller people in front of me. I had my special comic book open and ready. I was set.

I saw Tom Holland, Tom Hiddleston, Zoe Saldana, Mark Ruffalo, Paul Rudd, Chadwick Boseman, Dave Bautista, Anthony Russo, Stan Lee, Chris Hemsworth, Karen Gillan, Letitia Wright, Gwyneth Paltrow, and more. They were all lovely but both Toms, Mark, and Paul were by far the sweetest of all!

I was yet to see my main man. I was getting nervous. I had many thoughts rushing through my mind. What if he arrives too late and doesn’t have time to greet us? What if he does make his way over but only does one half of the crowd and then leaves? What if, what if, what if. I forced myself to stop thinking and just wait. I did. I waited.

From where I was standing I could see the main stage on the carpet in front of me to my left. (We were across the street. Think of it as them on one sidewalk and us on the other with two lanes in between us.) I kept looking over there standing on my toes as if that would help me get a better view. I saw all sorts of celebrities go up but not B.

I had my phone in my pocket because the last thing I wanted was my battery to die at the most inconvenient moment (which wouldn’t matter anyways). I remember looking down at my book admiring the autographs my nerdy self had already collected. I was trying to figure out a certain signature when my phone started buzzing. It vibrated once then twice, three times, a fourth and so on. It kept vibrating but it didn’t feel like a phone call. They were alerts. I took a quick peak at the screen as it lit up and I didn’t even have to open any of them. I already knew what it was about having read the first line, “HE’S THERE! AND WITH SOPHIE!” My heart went into tachycardia and my palms started sweating. I said a silent and genuine thank you to my friends for having my back and keeping me updated on twitter

There were other stars still coming near us to sign but I honestly do not remember who. I was busy keeping my eyes on Benedict. I didn’t want to lose sight of him until I did. Oh, no. Where had he gone?

The fun group of girls that stood behind me in line were about 5 people away next to my left. They were really tall and had a better view at the starting point. I heard one of them call out, “Alex! He’s here! He’s coming!” I wouldn’t shut up about my love for B and DS the whole time and everyone knew I was there for him. The man next to my left who was also taller than me (everyone is taller than me lol) also caught a glimpse of him and he nudged me to tell me that the Master of the Mystic Arts himself was getting closer to our side. 

Oh my literal god. I kept telling myself to relax but it didn’t do much. The tears that had formed earlier found a way out and they were now rolling down my cheeks. At least I wasn’t sobbing and I most certainly did not get hysterical. I started saying his name. “Benedict! Benedict... Benedict.” He was arriving to our side and I was finally able to see him now. He got to the man next to me and he spoke to him. Upon hearing that deep, smooth voice, I could’ve fainted there and then had I let myself. It is a dream like no other. Was I breathing? Thank God it’s an automatic mechanism because I would’ve forgotten how to do it. I’m surprised I didn’t drop the book I was holding out in front of me. 

Now, remember, I’m short. The lady behind me had a big poster wrapped around a piece of cardboard and she had placed that over my head and it hung in front of me covering me a bit. I was just about to shove it away from me when this angel came to my rescue. He pushed the poster aside to get a better look at me. The poster faded away and that’s when I saw him directly in front of me. I have never seen anyone so beautiful and so very handsome and gorgeous and stunning and brilliant and marvelous and all good things as he is before. This will sound cliché but oh well. It’s true. I did not know true beauty until he was standing right there inches in front of me. 

I forgot how to do anything but keep my eyes open and smile. These two pics were taken by the man next to me who was kind enough to share them with me afterwards. In the second pic, you can see he’s looking my way. Maybe he noticed that mean lady behind me? It was now my turn and I was beyond happy. Something clicked in my brain and it told me to speak up. “Benedict... Benedict. Patrick Melrose. You’re going to be amazing!” He was already signing my book but he paused as if in shock that someone mentioned PM. Still holding the sharpie in one hand and the book with the other, he looked up at me and smiled. Let me take a fangirl moment here and scream because aaaaaahhhh he looked right into my own two eyes! He was wearing glasses but the California sun was peering through the shades and this allowed me to see his golden lashes flicker up and down. Still looking at me, he said the sweetest most sincere, “Thank you.” I could tell it meant a lot to him because there he was, standing with a crowd that was chanting “Ben”, “Doctor Strange” and “Stephen” the whole time (which makes sense given that it was AIW) and this shorty (me) was saying a completely different name. It caught his attention and why wouldn’t it? It is his passion project. I have been wanting to tell him all the things I feel about this project since the day we found out he was cast as the leading man. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to in these few seconds of interaction with him. I said what I thought would be enough to convey what I felt for the most part. Having now seen BN, I can safely say I was right. He finished signing his last name and in that moment I realized I was grateful he has a long name because that just means he takes a little longer with the fans :P

He proceeded to sign the others next to me. Even the pushy lady behind me because he’s kind like that. Karon tapped him to ask him something and he turned around towards his right. Bless her. This gave me extra time to admire him. After, he continued signing for the men next to my right and I still kept looking at him. He was undeniably gorgeous in that chocolate velvet suit. The moment had finally made its way into my brain and I couldn’t help myself any longer. With a few tears running down my face I said, “I love you, Benedict.” What happened next is something I never expected to experience in my entire life and, therefore, it took me by surprise. He actually heard me and replied back, “Love you too, darling.” This is the moment my soul left my body. I died a little this day. I got an “ily” and a “darling”. I don’t need anything ever again to live. This is more than enough.

He finished the section, waved and blew a kiss to everyone, said thanks and walked away. That was it. He walked back onto the carpet and into the tent and he was gone. He may have left but the memory of what I have shared with you now has stayed with me since. I cherish it more than anything I own, more than  other amazing moments that have happened to me. Writing this weeks later, I have seen him two other times now but nothing compares to the first moment when you see someone who you love and admire with all your heart. I realize how fortunate I am to have this and I will never take it for granted.

#Benedict Cumberbatch #Avenger Infinity War #los angeles premiere #my story #it may not be the best you've ever read but it's mine #i will treasure this always #idk what to tag this :> #best day of my life

[thisisusfan388]

It's All Coming Back To Me Now

Hey guys -- this is my first ever 'This Is Us' fic, written in conjunction with the This Is Us appreciation week organized by @bigthree :)  I'm submitting this piece for This Is Us  Appreciation Week day 2- favourite character, because Jack Pearson is my favorite character on the show. <3

This takes place shortly after Jack's death. In this chapter, we'll explore Rebecca's POV and how she coped with Jack's death and how she was feeling a month after his death. Enjoy!

P.S. The title inspiration for this chapter is from Celine Dion's song 'It's All Coming Back To Me Now.'

p.p.s Special thanks and gratitude goes to the lovely @private-practice-fan for helping me to proofread and giving me feedback and encouragement for this fic. <3 <3

Rebecca's POV

The silence in the middle of the night is so loud. I lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling.

A month has passed since I've had to scatter my husband's ashes under a tree. One month since I've lost the love of my life, and had my other half ripped apart from me. One month since life as I knew it ended so abruptly.

I've heard that they are 5 stages of grief -- denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I may have skipped one or more stages. I was definitely in denial when the doctor first told me that Jack was dead. I casually popped the half-eaten chocolate into my mouth and told the doctor he was out of his mind and to back off. Of course, I found it impossible to believe -- just a few minutes ago, the last time I saw Jack, he was fine - sitting up on the hospital bed, teasing me and cracking one of his lame jokes. (Which I now miss so much). But when I rushed back into his room and saw his still body, that's when the harsh reality sank in -- Jack was gone forever. I can barely recall covering my mouth in shock, trying to no avail to suppress the animal-like moan of anguish that escaped my throat as I felt the floor give way from under me and my entire world crumble beneath me.

The infamous question of ‘Why do bad things happen to good people' popped into my head too.

Jack and I were supposed to live happily ever after. We were supposed to grow old together, to be one of those old couples who are still so in love with each other after many decades of marriage, one of those couples who people envy and younger couples aspire to be. One day, we were making out on the couch and planning to start a new business venture together, and the next day, our dreams were all extinguished by the fire. A fire which started with a malfunctioning crockpot. Who knew that fire, which is essential to mankind could destroy an entire house and family in minutes?

For the past month, I felt like a walking zombie, going through all the motions. The first week of being a widow passed by in a blur. I was physically present but emotionally, I was somewhere else. Yes, I was there at Jack's funeral, entertaining the guests who came and offered me their most sincere condolences. I faked a smile as I shook their hands and thanked them. I put on a facade, staying strong for everyone to see. People had been calling up to check on me, sending me well-meaning messages or dropping by to give me some prepared meals. I was so grateful for their help, but the fact is -- nothing can replace the hole that Jack's demise left in my heart. After that, when the generous friends stopped visiting, loneliness started to seep in. However, I need to be strong for my three children -- they have just lost their father and are grieving too. I can't show any sign of weakness in front of them, because I am now the leader of the family. I'm supposed to be the strong one, getting it together for the family. I have no choice, I'm the only parent they have left.  

Even scattering Jack's ashes under the special tree couldn't help me let go of him. Surprisingly, I didn't cry that night but instead brought the kids to watch a movie, where we tried to no avail to laugh away all our heartbreak and grief.

The 3 children are coping with the loss of their beloved dad in their own ways. Kevin has been spending more and more time at Sophie's, only returning to our rented apartment at night to sleep. In fact, he now sleeps over at Sophie's most nights too, so I seldom see him. I know that Sophie is leaving for NYU and he wants to spend as much time with her as possible before she leaves. But he's my son, and I know that this is his coping mechanism, his way of ignoring the fact that he was in an argument with his dad the last time he saw him. When I ask him about his college applications, he would just snap at me.

Kate seems withdrawn in her own world. I know that she was the closest to Jack and they shared a special father-daughter bond which could not be broken. My heart aches for her. I try to reach out to her, but the more I do, the more she withdraws from me. She doesn't talk to me at all; she doesn't even answer me when I show her concern by asking her if she has showered or eaten. She hasn't smiled for the past month. All she does when she's home from school is stare blankly into space with her headphones stuck in her ears. She won’t answer me when I ask her about her college applications.

Randall is the only child who seems to care about me, the only one whose sanity is still intact. He is the one staying by my side the whole time and making sure that I am okay. He is the only one who cares to ask whether I have eaten or slept and how I'm feeling. Even though he is grieving over the loss of his father too, he still cares for me and I really appreciate it. He tells me that he is interested in entering one of the Ivy League universities, although he has yet to decide which university to apply to.

_____________________________________________________________

Now in the middle of one of those lonely nights spent lying alone in bed and staring up at the ceiling, I let myself grieve. I look at the other side of the too huge king-sized bed, which seems so empty. Jack is supposed to be lying here beside me. I'm supposed to be cuddled up in our big comfortable bed with him, safe in his warm embrace. I miss being in his arms, snuggled up close to him, feeling the comfort of his heartbeat. Now the bed seems so empty and cold without him.

"Jack -- you are supposed to be here" I whisper to the empty space beside me. Even now, I still sleep on the same side of the bed. Maybe I'm subconsciously hoping for Jack to appear beside me when I open my eyes in the morning. I sigh as I continue whispering. ‘'You're supposed to be here for our children's graduations. You're supposed to be here for their weddings. You're supposed to be here to see the birth of our grandchildren. We are supposed to grow old together."

I close my eyes and feel a stray tear running down my cheek. Now Big Three Homes will remain a dream. Jack will never see our children get married. He won’t be present to walk Kate down the aisle on her wedding day if she gets married. He'll never get to meet our future grandchildren if we have them. This is so unfair.

My mind wanders to Dr. K's wise words which have made an impact on mine and Jack's lives. "There's no lemon so sour that you can't make something resembling lemonade.'' When Jack first told me about this quote, which Dr. K uttered to him in the hospital when the triplets were born and we lost Kyle, I thought it was a great quote indeed. We decided to use this quote as our life and family motto.

This quote was what got us through all the ups and downs of life, including the loss of Kyle, our 3rd triplet, and our marriage troubles just a couple of years ago. We made lemonade together. But now I have to do this alone, and I don't think I can.

I then recall Dr. K's encouraging words to me at the bench after Jack's funeral. I had been trying to stay strong for too long, but I finally broke down at his words. He reminded me of my strength and reassured me that I could go on even when I thought I couldn't. He told me that I not only made lemonade, but I made the sweetest lemonade ever. In my grief at that moment, I didn't necessarily believe his words, but I clung to them like a lifeline. His words were what got me through the rest of the month. I kept on reminding myself that I must remain strong for the kids.

Another few stray tears roll down my cheeks as I wipe them away with the sleeve of my nightgown. I am alone; Kevin must be at Sophie's -- he hasn't had a single meal with me ever since the night we scattered Jack's ashes. Kate might be at a friend's too -- she has been avoiding me like a plague. And Randall is in his own room, fast asleep.

I feel so lonely indeed. Jack was the glue that kept the family together. Now after his death, it seems like our entire family just disintegrated. As more tears roll down, I recall the wonderful memories that Jack and I had built over the years. I recall the very first time I laid my eyes on him as I was singing ‘Moonshadow'. I almost stopped singing right then as my heart skipped a beat. I finished the song as my eyes never left him the entire time. As soon as I finished singing, I left the stage immediately and went over to say hello. We talked for hours that night, until the pub closed. Since then, we were inseparable. His proposal was simple but so unique and heartwarming. Our wedding, although simple, was one of the best days of my life. I felt like such a beautiful bride that day -- Jack made sure I felt that way. We did everything together -- we watched the Super Bowl together every year without fail. We entered parenthood, grieved through the loss of Kyle and adopted Randall together. We raised 3 children together in a happy and healthy environment. We changed diapers, cleaned up messes, kissed scrapped knees, hosted numerous birthday parties and mediated sibling squabbles together. We made numerous memories as a family. I remember Easter, Christmas and Thanksgiving celebrations and how we were such a happy family. Even when we had a huge argument a couple of years ago, we still managed to make up and emerge from it stronger than ever. Friends have always mentioned that we were attached at the hip, and I don't think I can argue with that.

I think this had mostly to do with Jack being the near perfect person he was. I know that no one is perfect, but he was the closest to perfect as a human can be. He always made sure to let me know every day how much he loved me and how much I meant to him through his words and actions. When we were courting, he made sure to bring me to the most romantic restaurants and shower me with the best gifts ever, even though I'm sure it must have burnt a hole in his pocket. I expressed my concerns about that, but he always brushed it off, saying that I deserve it. When I was pregnant with the triplets, he purchased our dream house- the house which was full of happy memories, joy and laughter, which ended up being burnt to the ground in an instant. Although the house is no longer physically there, the memories we created in the house will stay with me and the kids forever. When we brought the babies home from the hospital, although it wasn't common for dads to help out with childcare during that time, he erased the stereotype right from the beginning by helping me to feed them and change their diapers and waking up in the middle of the night to soothe their cries. When the children were older, he was the fun parent, always suggesting fun things to do as a family, such as spontaneous road trips and vacations, which delighted them. When one of the children was upset, he would placate them in his own way. He had the talent of turning a pout into a grin in a matter of seconds. He had the knack of resolving squabbles between the siblings effortlessly. The times when I would lose my temper over a petty thing, he would put a smile back on my face almost right away. When the kids drove me up the wall, he knew how to calm me down. When he saw that I was fuming inside, he would make a joke or give me a hug or kiss and tell me how much he loved me, and I would cool down immediately. He was always so level-headed and even-tempered. He had such a big heart; he had shown time and time again that he would do anything for me and our kids, even climb mountains and swim across seas for us. He would even lay down his life for us, which was demonstrated so clearly when he tried to save me, Kate and Randall from the fire. To top it off, he just had to re-enter the house that night to save Kate’s dog and mementos that meant so much to us. Could he have survived had he not gone back into the house to save Kate’s dog and the mementos? No one knows for sure. What I know for sure is that nothing is going to bring him back.

"Jack, I don't know how I can go on without you." I whisper out loud. "I'm not strong enough to carry on living the rest of my life without you. I know I have to be strong for our kids, but I just can't do this anymore." I whimper as I let the tears continue to roll down my cheeks.

I take another glance at the oh so empty space beside me.

"I don't know if you can hear or see me, but if you do, I need a sign that you're ok." I whisper again. I would give anything just to see his face and his smile, hear his voice and laughter, and feel the warmth of his touch one more time.

"I'm ok, Rebecca." I hear Jack's voice calling out from the dark. I am now sitting upright on the bed. Is this real? Am I hallucinating? Is that really Jack's voice I am hearing?

"Jack!" I whisper as I turn frantically towards the direction of the voice.

There in the darkness he stands, my Jack, looking ever so handsome in the same shirt he was wearing the last time I saw him.

He is smiling at me, the smile which I miss so much.

"Jack", I cry out, my words stuck in my throat. Is this really him, standing next to me?

"Jack, I…. I miss you so much." I mutter, at loss of words to say to him. " The kids miss you too. Kevin is barely at home, Kate hides in her room all the time, Randall is the only one who cares but I cannot burden him anymore… Jack, I just can't do this without you. I'm not strong enough to face life without you. I need you. The kids need you. Why did you have to leave?!"

"You can do this, Rebecca. I know you can. I have full faith in you. You're the strongest and most remarkable woman I know." Jack encourages me in his ever-soothing voice.

" But I need you by my side. We're supposed to grow old together!" I cry out.

"I know, and we'll still age together. I'm still here with you -- I'm here in your heart." he says, pointing to his heart. I'll live in the memories we shared together, and through our children. I love you so much Rebecca, more than you'll ever know. You and the kids are my whole life. So you have to be strong for the kids. Let them know that I love them so much too. Let Kevin know that I forgive him, and not to beat himself up over our last argument and that he makes me proud. Tell Kate that she'll be such an amazing singer, and that she shouldn't care so much about what others think of her, because she's already wonderful as she is. Tell Randall that he has such great potential and will go on to do incredible things in life. Tell all 3 of them that I'm so proud of them."

"You're supposed to tell them yourself!" I sob. "You're supposed to be here to see the 3 of them graduate high school and send them off to the college of their choices."

" I'll be there during their graduation. Just picture me smiling proudly at them. I know I'll be so proud of them. We raised 3 incredible kids, Rebecca." Jack points out, smiling.

" We did it together. And now I can't do this alone." I sob again.

"You're not alone, Rebecca. I'm here with you. Just look out for any signs which bring a smile to your face -- a butterfly, a rainbow, a blooming flower. I'll be here with you always." he says.

I look at him for comfort and he just smiles and shows me his perfect teeth.

I wish he would touch my shoulder in a comforting gesture and pull me into a warm embrace like he usually does, but this time he doesn't.

I reach out my hand to touch him, but touch cold air instead.

Meanwhile, he is beginning to fade slowly into the background.

"Jack!" I cry out. I am losing him all over again and it breaks my heart.

"No…no… Jack!!" I cry louder, as I reach my hand out even further, clinging to his presence.

But it's too late -- he's gone.

I stare into the darkness where he stood just a moment ago, before I dissolve into uncontrollable sobs. Why did he have to leave me?!

I sob and sob until I feel someone shaking me.

"Mom?" I hear Randall's voice calling me.

"Mom?" he calls out again as he shakes me awake.

"Huh?" I groggily reply as I rub off sleep from my eyes.

" I was wondering whether you are ok, because it's already 11 am. You never slept in until this late before." Randall says, a tone of concern in his voice. "Are you ok?"

"Mom are you crying?" he asks before I can answer him.

"Yes, I was dreaming about your dad." I tell him, sniffling. " He looked so handsome, wearing the same shirt he wore the last time we saw him. He told me to tell you that you have so much potential and will go on to do incredible things in life and that he's so proud of you and your siblings. He also told me how strong I am. I miss him so much, Randall." I say, my voice cracking.

I can see Randall's eyes begin to water, and a downcast expression on his face.

" I know Mom, I really miss him too." he says.

" He's supposed to see you graduate and go to an Ivy League university." I say, as tears begin rolling down my cheeks again.

Randall takes a seat on the bed beside me and pulls me close for a hug. Feeling the warmth of his embrace, I miss being in Jack's arms even more. I begin to let go of all the emotions I've been hiding inside and sob in his arms. I sob and sob, letting go of all the grief, despair and anguish I feel over losing Jack, and the loneliness and emptiness which losing my soulmate and companion for life left in my heart. We sit in that position for a long time, clinging on tight to each other for support. We need each other to fill the void that losing Jack left in our lives. We need to stay strong for each other.

 This is it guys, my first ever This Is Us fic. Please do let me know what you think, ok -- feedback in any form- be it reblogs with comments, notes, asks, direct messages, etc. are very welcome. I would really love to hear from you all <3

P.S. Do stay tuned for the POVs of each of the Big Three shortly after Jack's death

#tiuappweek18 #day2 #favorite character #jack pearson #rebecca pearson #randall pearson #this is us #this is us fics #ailing's fics #ailing's this is us fics

[ecotone99]

[MF] Lola

Logline: A man tracks down his mother's painting, which is worth millions of dollars because of its beauty, when he finally finds it, it may be worth even more than that.

_____________

Mike Swanson's mother, Sophie Swanson, was a renowned painter, a living legend at the time of her death, her artwork hung in art galleries and museums. A few weeks after her funeral, Walter Jessup, a billionaire and art collector visited him at his house. They had a long talk about Sophie's life, and Walter brought up a painting named Lola.

Walter shows Mike a picture of Lola on his phone,

"there it is, isn't she beautiful," Walter says. Mike agrees, he can't take his eyes off it,

"That's probably the most beautiful painting I've ever seen," Mike admits. The painting is a realistic portrait of a young girl, couldn't be older than 18, singing into a microphone with yellow feathers in her hair.

"I don't think any person could come close to the beauty of this painting; the person who posed for this is probably the most beautiful woman in the world," Mike says.

"Keep in mind, the painting is over thirty years old," Walter says.

"Still, I can't look away; it's love at first sight," Mike says.

"It's the earliest painting ever discovered that your mom made. It's from before she was famous, living out in Las Vegas, trying to make a living as a lounge singer," Walter says.

"That's crazy; I didn't even know my mom could sing," Mike says.

"In good condition, I've had it appraised at 3.8 million dollars, but no one knows where it is," Walter says.

"It's lost?" Mike asks.

"I guess so, you see, the girl in the painting is a real person, her name is Lola, she was a showgirl at the Copa thirty years ago, now she's a singer in a Las Vegas night club, people have asked her about the painting, but she won't reveal where it is," Walter says.

"Maybe she doesn't have it; maybe it's truly lost," Mike says.

"I don't believe that. That woman knows where the painting is. If you went to Las Vegas and asked her for it, she would feel compelled to give it to you; it is your mother's painting. Think of it like this; it technically belongs to you anyway. If you return with the painting, I'll give you eight million dollars, that's double what the painting is worth," Walter says.

"Eight million dollars! I'll get that painting for you," Mike says.

"The girl does four shows a week, at a joint called The Troubadour, a dinky lounge with slot machines in the lobby. Good luck, kid," Walter says.

Mike flies out to Las Vegas, he settles in, and the first night he's there, he goes to The Troubadour to see Lola. He sits in the back; the place is dead, the club has seen better days. A woman, looking to be in her mid-to-late fifties, comes onto the stage with yellow feathers in her hair, it's the woman from the painting, her eyes haven't changed, but life has taken its toll. She's introduced as Lola and performs a version of Unchained Melody; it's beautiful and flawless. When she starts singing, the few people left in the lounge, can't take their eyes off of her, she has a hypnotic presence. Mike found her, Lola, from the painting. When the song concludes, Mike tries to make his way backstage but is not allowed. He waits two hours for Lola at the exit, he sees her and tracks her down.

"Hi, Lola?" Mike asks.

"Yes, what do you want an autograph or something? A little young for my fan club but whatever," Lola says.

"No, my mom was Sophie Swanson, I think you knew her," Mike says. Lola stops in her tracks.

"Sophie, yes, I had heard the news, I'm sorry for your loss," Lola says.

"Well, I was wondering if you had a few minutes to chat?" Mike asks.

"Sure, let's grab a drink at the bar," Lola suggests.

They walk over to the Troubadour bar; the bartender is very familiar with Lola,

"Hey, Lola, your regular?" The bartender asks.

"Yes," Lola replies.

"Alright, ma'am, a bottle of vodka coming right up," the bartender replies.

"A bottle? I don't drink much, will I like the taste?" Mike asks.

"Don't be silly, the bottle is for me," Lola replies. Mike turns to the bartender,

"Oh, just a coke for me then," Mike says.

"So, Sophie's boy, what brings you out to sin city," Lola asks.

"Actually, you," Mike says.

"I'm flattered, but you're a little young," Lola says.

"No, my mom painted a portrait of you, I've seen a picture of it, it's beautiful," Mike says. Lola pours a glass of vodka and immediately drinks half a glass.

"Your mother was always a talented painter, you know we were showgirls, right? Those were the days, youth, enjoy it while you have it," Lola says as she downs the other half of the vodka.

"Do you still have the painting?" Mike asks.

"Have you ever been in love?" Lola asks.

"Love? What does that have to do with the painting?" Mike says.

"Love is everything, do anything you can to keep it, because it can leave in a blink of an eye," Lola says cryptically.

"But what about the painting, do you have it?" Mike asks again. Lola pours another glass of vodka and immediately downs half of the glass as the bartender brings Mike his coke.

"Did your mother ever tell you why she made that painting in the first place?" Lola asks.

"No, in fact, I didn't even know about the painting until a couple of days ago," Mike said.

"They say you shouldn't fall in love at the Copa, but I was young, and I thought I was immune. His name was Tony; he tended bar on most of my shifts; he was the love of my life. The sweetest man you'll ever meet," Lola says as she drinks another half-glass of vodka. "Being a showgirl at the Copa was a tough business, but I was going to be a star, and into the club walked, Rico, mafia goon famous for his diamond pinky ring. He would always call the showgirls over to his table, show off, and try to get them to come back to his room with him. I was working that night," Lola says as she pours another glass of vodka." Rico had a reputation for getting a little handsy, but I had it under control. Unfortunately, Tony, filled with rage and jealousy, sailed across the bar and got into a fight with Rico, punches thrown, chairs smashed, and eventually, Rico pulled his gun and shot Tony," Lola finishes.

"That's tragic; I'm so sorry you had to experience that," Mike says. Lola shrugs and drinks another half a glass of vodka.

"So, what do you want with this painting?" Lola asks.

"I'm being offered eight million dollars for it," Mike says.

"Money, you're going to trade that painting for money?" Lola asks.

"Yeah, believe it or not, that painting alone will bring in more than all the rest of her paintings did," Mike responds. Lola shakes her head.

"Some things can't be bought, kid, I learned that a long time ago. You can't put a price tag on that painting; it's priceless," Lola says.

"I know it's beautiful, but why is it so special?" Mike asked.

"Your mom got me through a lot after Tony died, I drank a bunch, and I was sad, your mom got me through that phase of my life. That's actually why she made the painting. I had a difficult time; a few nights prior, I tried to commit suicide, so to cheer me up, your mom painted my portrait. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen; it made me want to live. I never tried to commit suicide again," Lola said.

"Wow, I never thought that painting would have such a special significance for anyone," Mike says, as Lola throws back another half a glass of vodka.

"Look, your mom was a special person to me, if you want the painting, I'll show you where it is, you can have it if you want it," Lola says.

"Well, if you're willing to let me have it, I'll take it," Mike says as Lola finishes her vodka and throws down fifty bucks,

"Thanks, George, Victor's got to pull the car around, the kid and I have a trip to make," Lola says to the bartender.

Lola is taking Mike to Las Vegas General Hospital; they go straight to the top floor. When they step off the elevator, Mike sees a sign that reads, "The Sophie Swanson Psychiatric Wing." When they reach the ward, his mother's painting of Lola is straight ahead. It's the highlight of the entrance to the wing, that was a multi-million-dollar artwork just hanging there at the entryway to the psychiatric ward, hidden in plain sight.

As they continued throughout the wing, some of the patients were still up in the middle of the night. Most of them thanked Mike for letting them keep the painting for this long. Over the years, the art has done so much for so many. The beauty had almost a magical presence; it made people forget their problems; it helped so many to get better.

By the end of his journey to Las Vegas, Mike didn't have the heart to take the painting away from the psychiatric unit. He figured it would be better if his mom's legacy had been remembered for something good, rather than hanging up in some guy's collection. And though Lola was a shell of her former self, unable to move on from her one true love, the painting of Lola, stood as a symbol of young love, of what life could be, of a beauty that would stand the test of time.

submitted by /u/patrickryan182 [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2Yr4Yvs

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[imherongraystairstrash]

Hi! If you are still open to request, can I please suggest you something? I haven’t thought a prompt for it but a situation, I saw you have written many Gabrily fics and wondered if you’d do one with them deciding to have Kit? Like after the hard time they had to have Anna maybe were a little hesitant to have another and how they reached to the conclusion that they wanted one more ? Of course if this fits right with you. Thanks for taking the time on reading this ask have a nice day

Hellooo! I’ve finally finished it! I cannot tell you how long I’ve been writing this fic for 😂 I made it so that Cecily’s pregnancy was a surprise since I like to think that none of their children were planned, just because of how I see these characters. They don’t seem like the kind of people who would plan to have a child, they’d just let life throw at them what it may. Hope you enjoy!

Carry Him In Thy Heart:

Characters: Cecily, Gabriel, Christopher, Jem and Brother Enoch (We can’t have a birth fic without our main man: E-Bro) 

Gabriel was frustrated. Yet again, the clave was being difficult, and Bridgestock was annoying as usual. He washed his face, got changed and climbed into bed beside Cecily, who was sleeping with infectious serenity. Gabriel matched her breathing and instantly felt better. He didn’t embrace her, for fear of her waking up, and instead turned around and thought about the meeting. Didn’t Shadowhunters know better? How can they be so foolish?

He sighed and turned around just as Cecily opened her sleepy eyes.

“No no no no, did I wake you?” Gabriel said, pulling her close and holding her against his chest. 

Cecily said something, but it came out muffled.

“What?” he asked, pulling away.

“I asked if you were all right.”

“Of course I am.”

Cecily looked at him with knowing eyes. 

“Gabriel, you have to trust me. I’m your wife.”

“I do. Of course I trust you.” 

Cecily held up her hand to his face. “Then tell me what’s troubling you.”

“The Clave.”

Cecily laughed. “Why is that the root of every Shadowhunter’s problems?”

Gabriel shook his head. 

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t go.”

Gabriel looked at her in concern. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much better.”

“Did the Silent Brothers say what was wrong?”

“They said it was normal, no need to worry.”

“Oh,” Gabriel said. He was about to ask what she meant by normal when Cecily spoke.  

“I missed you,” she said as she wrapped her arms and legs around him and kissed his cheek.

“I missed you, too.”

She smiled and kissed him again. Suddenly, she was kissing his face all over. 

“Cecy,” he laughed.

“I really missed you.” she giggled as she climbed into his chest and held his face in between her hands. She kissed him until she was breathless, and then collapsed on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Better?”

“Much better.”

They sighed in unison and rested in each other’s comfort. 

Cecily rested her head on Gabriel’s chest and put her arms around his neck. He was still surprised at how perfectly fit together; like a lock and a key. 

“We should get away one of these days.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and smiled. “Where would we go?”

“Idris,” Cecily continued, her voice coming out a bit muffled, “and sleep in late, take Anna to the pond and not stress over the Clave. Just us, and our two children.”

Gabriel nodded happily until he registered what Cecily had said about children and his eyes shot open in surprise. Was Cecily perhaps still sick? 

“Cecy, we only have one child.”

She sat up and put her hand on her stomach, her face in pure triumph and joy. “Not for long!”

Gabriel shot upward and accidentally bumped his head against Cecily’s.

“By the angel, Cecy, I’m so sorry.” He hugged her and kissed the spot where their heads collided. 

“It’s all right, it doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m such an idiot.”

Cecily laughed and kissed him. “You are my idiot.”

Gabriel had briefly forgotten about Cecily’s announcement, until he once again remembered. 

“Are you really pregnant?”

Cecily smiled widely and nodded. 

“Is that why you were not feeling well this morning? Oh Cecy, I don’t want you to suffer the way you did with Anna.”

Cecily rolled her eyes. “Gabriel. I want this. I want another child.”

“Me too.”

Though few people would have guessed it, Gabriel and Cecily both absolutely adored children. Anna was their pride and joy and it’s safe to say that either would give their lives to protect her, should they have to. They also loved their nieces and nephews dearly and were always happy to babysit them. Gabriel had desperately wanted another child, but he could never ask Cecily to endure what she had once more. He had seen the toll her first pregnancy had taken on her and could never bear to see her that way again. He also felt incredibly lucky to have Anna and since the day she was born he knew if she were his only child, he could die happy. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want another. 

“I would rather nine months of discomfort than always wonder what could have been. Nine months of discomfort for a lifetime of happiness.” Cecily continued, putting a hand over her belly. “I want Anna to have a sibling. We are both blessed with wonderful brothers. I want her to have the same connection.”

Gabriel put his arms around her. “I heard from Sophie that not all pregnancies are the same but I didn’t want to risk the chance that you’d have another terrible one.” He felt Cecily smile against his cheek. “But since you’re already pregnant, maybe this one won’t be as bad.” She pulled away and he got to see her beautiful smile. He loved it when Cecily smiled; she was more radiant than the brightest star. Now, she put his hand where the baby should be.

“I feel him,” she said, “I love him and I’ve only known for less than a day.”

She put her forehead against Gabriel’s and a hand on his cheek. 

“Him?” He asked.

“It’s a boy. I know it.”

Gabriel looked down.

“Gabriel,” Cecily said, bringing his head up and meeting his lips in a tender kiss. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know you will. You’re the strongest Shadowhunter I know.” Gabriel said with a smile.

…

His green eyes were dark in the absence of light, but Cecily lost herself in them enough times to know they were dazzling. He tucked her under his chin and fell back on the bed, holding her tightly. 

“I love you.” Cecily whispered, half asleep. “With all my soul.” 

…

“Angel have mercy on my soul!” Cecily screamed.

Child birth was worse than she remembered. Much worse. Perhaps it was because this pregnancy was not difficult as Anna’s had been. After months of pain, Anna’s birth had been a relief, almost. However, this pregnancy was almost easy, which meant that the birth… She wasn’t accustomed to pain at this magnitude.

Brother Enoch had once again come to deliver the baby, as he had done with Anna. Jem was behind him and Tessa was with Anna and James. Gabriel was patrolling which meant Cecily was alone. 

“I’m going to die,” said Cecily, while she pushed.

No, you won’t.

“Yes, I will.” Cecily fell back and took heavy breaths.

You have to keep pushing.

“I’ve been pushing for the past twenty minutes.” Cecily felt like crying, if not from pain than frustration. “He’s not coming out.”

She wished she could give up. She wished she could run away to earlier this morning, where she wasn’t giving birth. She closed her eyes and tried to shut out everything. Every moment of her life blurred away so that she couldn’t think of anything, couldn’t remember anything lovely and sweet and good. All she could think was that she was going to die. The feeling seized her and dug it’s sharp, unforgiving claws into her and refused to let go. She couldn’t die. Her daughter needed her. Cecily felt her breath come shallow. 

She didn’t hear him come, but she became dimly aware of Jem standing beside her. He took her hand and held it in both of his.

Push, Cecily.

She looked up at his closed eyes.

I believe in you; you’re a Herondale and you won’t give up. You’re a devoted mother, a wonderful mother and you sacrificed too much to give up. Push, Cecily.

She obeyed. She could trust her brother’s parabatai. She let out a cry in pain as she pushed again. She gasped in air, but there wasn’t enough of it. Jem squeezed her hand. She focused on breathing. If she can keep drawing one breath after another, she can push a couple more times. A couple more and her baby would be free. 

At some point, there was a clanging of wood against the floor and Cecily’s other hand was clutching a warmer one. A hand was placed on her back allowing her to rest a little bit.

“That's it, Cecy. You’re doing so well.” 

Cecily put her head on Gabriel’s chest in between one push and another. 

She kept going and going; time had lost it’s essence and all that existed was pushing, breathing and tears, until it was finally over.

The second her baby’s cries filled the air, Cecily became boneless. Had Gabriel not been holding her, she definitely would have crashed backwards into the bed. Jem turned to go, but she squeezed his hand.

“Thank you.” She whispered. “I would probably still be giving birth if it weren’t for you.”

Jem bowed his head (which is his way of smiling) and went to help Enoch. 

Gabriel kneeled beside her and whispered sweet words into her ear. He kissed her temple, then her forehead and finally brought his lips to the back of her hand. Their son hadn’t stopped crying, and though she couldn’t feel her legs, Cecily fought the urge to go to him. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Enoch placed her son on her chest. 

Immediately, he stopped crying. 

“Oh, no.” Cecily said, looking down at him, her eyes prickling. “Take him away before I start crying.”

Gabriel chuckled behind her and kissed her temple again.

He was beautiful. The sweetest baby she’d ever seen. His tiny fingers stretched out and flexed as though he were reaching out to Cecily. Cecily kissed his small, outstretched palms, which were impossibly soft against her lips. Her heart swelled. 

You did very well, Cecily Lightwood. I’ve seen few births as difficult as that one.   

“Thank you, Brother Enoch.” Cecily said. 

And though only half an hour ago she could only see darkness, now she saw light. Her children live up to their family name. She held her son closer and thanked the Angel for blessing her once more. 

Tagging: @hitheresomeoneusingthus​ @tsccreatorsnet @celias @rinadragomir @youngreckless @atla-lok143 @livia-dovehallow @autumnangel20

#cecily x gabriel #cecily herondale #gabriel lightwood #cecily lightwood #christopher lightwood #jem carstairs #brother zachariah #brother enoch #tsc #tsc fanfiction #tlh fanfics #tid fanfiction #gabrily fanfic #gabrily