#WorkinProgress video of some notebooks I’m working on! Get them at the Santa Ana Art walk this Saturday or on etsy this weekend! Hope you’re all having a great day! :) 🖋🎨🌹✨🌈🌼👁#wip#wipvideo#art#artvideo#video#illustration#diy#dtsa#ocartwalk#doodle#drawing#customnotebook#abstract
Chandler Riggs, who plays Carl Grimes on The Walking Dead, shot at our booth this weekend at Heroes and Villains Fan Fest in San Jose. He shot four for four, showing us all the skills that have kept him alive this long!
It was a Thursday in early December and Jeremy had just finished his Chem II final. It was evidently brutal, he had been responding to Jean in monosyllabic phrases for the past thirty minutes. When Jeremy’s blinks began to last longer than the time in between them, Jean insisted that he go take a nap. Normally, Jeremy would fight being told to take a nap. He didn’t like the idea that he could miss out on anything. In fact, most days Jean had to lie down with Jeremy while he slept and promise not to get up until Jeremy did to get him to go to sleep. While he didn’t fight the idea of a nap, Jeremy didn’t get up either. He just slumped over against Jean’s arm. Jean braced Jeremy as he stood before hefting his boyfriend into a fireman carry and taking him to his bed.
“Jeeeeaaan, you know this isn’t comfortable,” Jeremy whined in a small voice.
“You are too old to be acting like this,” Jean huffed under Jeremy’s weight.
“Carry me like a baby, Jean,” Jeremy cooed.
“I will drop you,” Jean insisted, making Jeremy bark out a laugh.
Jean didn’t drop Jeremy. He set him down gently on his bed before pulling off his shoes and jeans before tossing the covers up over his body.
“Rest now, mon petit soleil. I will be here when you wake up.”
Jeremy didn’t hear him; he was already asleep.
Jeremy woke in a slightly confused panic. He wasn’t sure where he was or what time it was. The last thing he remembered was telling Jean about his Chemistry final and that was at 11 o’clock that morning.
The room was pitch black and Jeremy had no idea where his cellphone was so there was no way to tell how late it was. Instinctively, Jeremy reached out for Jean. He was normally sitting up beside Jeremy, close enough to reach a hand out and soothe Jeremy back to sleep if he needed to, but Jean wasn’t there. Jeremy flopped down on his back and blinked for a minute, contemplating going back to sleep. He heard voices coming from the kitchen and it reminded him of how long it had been since he last ate.
He remembered grabbing his bag and running to the door, he was going to miss the bus. Before he could make it out the door, Jean snagged his sleeve and handed him a toasted bagel with peanut butter on it. Jean had even offered to drive him so that he could enjoy his breakfast and not rush. Jeremy had wolfed down the bagel in the passenger seat of Jean’s sedan, and leaned across the console to give Jean a peanut butter smeared kiss before bolting out the door. Right as he was passing the vending machine, he got a text from Jean telling him to text his back pocket for money for a drink. Jeremy closed his eyes and thanks any and all gods for this moment of domestic bliss, amen. That bagel and juice were the only things he had all day.
Eventually he could no longer ignore how hungry he was, so he hefted himself to his feet and shuffled over to where his sweats were lying on the floor. He got halfway down the hall before he smelled it; pancaked. There was the warm smell of real butter. Cooked fruit, tantalizingly sweet. The sizzle and pop of bacon. And fresh baked bread, yeasty and baked to perfection. Jeremy wants to cry. It all smells so good and there’s a distinct chance his stomach will gnaw its way out of his belly towards the kitchen if he doesn’t hurry the fuck up.
Jeremy rounds the corner, expecting his mother, as silly as that sounds, but there’s Jean. Standing over the stove and messing with an assortment of pans, the sleeves of his dark red sweater pushed up to his elbows. Jeremy’s heart stutters in his chest, he wonders if Jean knows that he is so weak for Jean in dark red. Jeremy’s eyes track down Jean’s back, eyeing the way he fills out the sweater.
Jeremy must make some sort of sound, because Jean glances over his shoulder and spots Jeremy in the doorway and beams. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Jean says cheerfully. “Did you sleep all right?”
“Yes,” Jeremy responds. “But you weren’t there when I woke up,” he adds, barely keeping the pout out of his voice.
The look Jean levels at Jeremy could only be described as elated. “I was there for the first hours, but you slept so long. I was worried you were dead. I went and spoke to Alvarez and she explained that you were dead; you had just finished Chem II. Laila said if you were not awake by the time I finished St. Nicholas Eve dinner, she would eat your portion and then sit on you until you suffocated. Don’t worry though, I would have woken you up first.” Jean winked at Jeremy, and Jeremy flushed six shades of red.
There is a saucepan that holds peaches and one that holds strawberries, bubbling happily in syrup over a low flame. There is a pan full of apple slices, already sprinkled with sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg. On the last burner is a small skillet filled with scrambled eggs, fluffy and sprinkled with herbs. Beside the stove is a large stack of pancakes and a plate of bacon and sausage.
“Sorry I slept so late,” Jeremy said, tiptoeing towards the stove to catch a glimpse of all the food he’d get to eat. “What is St. Nicholas Eve, by the way?” he asked, as his stomach gave a deranged growl.
“In short, the start of Christmas,” Jean said. “The Christmas season starts on December fifth with St. Nicholas Eve and ends on January sixth with Epiphany. St. Nicholas Eve is a day for gift giving with friends and family, and tonight if you leave out your shoes, Père Noël might come and leave you gifts. I think he is your Father Christmas, or Santa Claus?”
“Santa, yeah,” Jeremy said walking closer to put his forehead on Jean’s shoulder. “This smells amazing, I’m so hungry.”
“You slept through lunch.” Jean laughed.
“You said we give gifts? I have part of your Christmas present. Would you be okay with only giving half now?”
“I remember when I was very young, St. Nicholas Eve was mostly for me to take gifts to my friends before school went on winter break. My family only ever gave one gift and saved the rest for Christmas itself. I think only half of the gift would be more than adequate,” Jean said.
“Okay, pause the reminiscing, because I want to come back to that, but now you got me all excited and I want to go get your gift!”
Jean grabbed Jeremy’s hands before he could rocket off to his room. “What if we have dinner with the girls and then we drink hot chocolate in front of the Netflix fire Laila showed me and exchange gifts all together? And then after we say goodnight to girls, I will tell you about my Christmas memories. Because this is my first time trying to recreate it and maybe if I tell you about it you can help me, since I will be spending Christmas with the Knox clan.”
“Jean,” Jeremy said, voice breaking, “That sounds absolutely amazing and you’re making me hella emo.” Jeremy dramatically sniffed and pretended to swipe at his eyes. “You got me cryin’ babe. I love you so much.”
“Je t’aime aussi chéri,” Jean said giving Jeremy a smacking kiss on the forehead and slapping his ass. “Now, set the table pour moi, merci.”
“Oui, ma lune. Comme vous le souhaitez.”
“Jeremy, your French is absolutely horrendous. What did I tell you about looking up the pronunciation before you use words?” Jean asked laughing again.
“To do it because my français n’est pas très bon,” Jeremy said, yelling the last bit as Jean chased him around the kitchen.
“I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, IT’S ME I HATE” IS A REAL ACTUAL LEGITIMATE TREVOR->MICHAEL QUOTE AND I AM OFFICIALLY IN HELL!!!!! I AM GONE!!!!! I AM LEAVING THIS MORTAL SPHERE BEHIND AND DESCENDING INTO A PIT OF ETERNAL FIRE!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!!!