Dinner at the Copeland's never got easier. In the six months that Flora had been living in Pinehaven, the tension hadn't ebbed at all. In fact, it seemed to be growing thicker with each passing day. As if Jax's parents expected him to be alone each time they walked through the door. They were expecting her to vanish just as quickly and quietly as she'd arrived in their lives. If they took even a moment to get to know her, they'd realize she was not a runner. Nothing they could do would send her running of the hills. But, tonight, something had been said that rattled her.

"Unzip me?" Flora asked Jax, turning her back to him and lifting her hair so he could reach the zipper at the base of her neck. Her dress was modest for her, and yet his mother had still taken a full sixty seconds to look her over with a look of disdain. Flora supposed she'd be jealous too if the roles were reversed. Jax, at least, appreciated the clothes she wore. She gave him a flirty smile over her shoulder as she went towards their closet, her dressed unzipped down the back.

"Question," Flora mused as she came back out into their bedroom wrapped in a silk robe. "Is there truth behind your parents threats? To investigate my past?" There were things she hadn't told Jax. Things that weren't relevant to their relationship, but wouldn't look good if they came out from his parents. Flora was honestly surprised they'd even mentioned it over dinner. They could just have easily slapped down a folder with everything they'd found on her. If they could find anything on her. They were rich... it was entirely likely they would find something. She just didn't know what. Flora didn't know what might come up in relation to her parents. Nothing good, that was for sure.

She didn't want to raise any alarm bells. Her past could stay there as far as she was concerned. But the logical part of Flora knew how this could look. If the Copeland's weren't just talking out of their ass, then she needed to get ahead of this. She needed to be the one to explain the life she'd been raised in to Jax. She needed to make him understand that her past had nothing to do with them and their future.

Flora approached Jax from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against the hard muscles of his back. "Can you ask them not to do that?" She asked, her tone light but still nervous. "Would they listen?"

the space between them vanished the exact moment the request left her lips. jax moved in, his fingers lifting the dark silk of her hair away from the nape of her neck to clear a path. his thumb found the metallic teeth of the fastener at her collar, and with a slow, deliberate downward pull, he parted the fabric. his knuckles tracked the velvet heat of her spine as the gown yielded, unzipping down her back. he let his hands anchor on her bare shoulders, leaning down to press a soft peck right between her shoulder blades. only then did he let her slide away toward the closet.

jax hated that tiny, cautious note in her voice. it struck like a fragile, bracing frequency that had no business existing within the quiet sanctuary of their bedroom, and certainly not because of the people who shared his last name. if only it were so simply to impress on his parents that when he looked at her he didn’t see the ghost of whatever history she kept behind lock and key; he simply saw his wife. jagger truly believed, perhaps naively, there couldn't be any skeleton in her closet so nightmarish that it would alter the intensity of his adulation.

his mother’s petty, sixty second inspections down at the estate were nothing more than a pathetic coping mechanism; a realization that the family empire held absolutely zero leverage over the newlyweds. but jax knew his family too well to offer false comfort. "unfortunately, they aren't just talking out of their asses, flo," he admitted, his voice dropping into a serious register. when his father threatened to dig into someone's life, it usually meant a check had already been cut to a private investigator. it was his standard corporate armor; the man truly believed every human problem could be resolved with a thick folder and a team of expensive lawyers. if jax were to demand he call them off, it would only signal to his father that he had successfully struck a nerve. the old man would dig twice as deep, hunting for any wedge he could drive between them. they were desperately waiting for her to evaporate, simply because they couldn't comprehend a person who refused to bow to their bank account.

jax stepped right back into her space, closing the remaining distance until the fluid silk of her robe brushed against his jeans. he caught her hands in his, reversing their positions so he could look straight down into her eyes. it was the physical premise of a ritual; a quiet, devotional act that smoothly transitioned into lingering lips against her skin before he lifted her hands to rest flat against his chest, right over his heartbeat. "let them dig," he coaxed gently, sliding his hands up from her wrists to cradle the sides of her face, his thumbs sweeping across her cheekbones to soothe away the residual tension. "it won't change a damn thing."

he leaned down, resting his forehead against hers for a second, letting her feel the absolute certainty in his posture. when he pulled back just enough to look at her, he offered a slow, reassuring smile, the kind that usually signaled he was about to charm his way through a crisis. "we don't need them to listen to us. we just need to give them nothing to hold onto." he wrapped his arms fully around her waist, pulling her flush against him until there was no air left between them. then buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. "besides, the real crime of the night was that salmon," he joked, his tone lifting as his teeth lightly grazed the soft skin of her neck to punctuate his jest. "god, i hate seafood, and i'm starving."

𝕆ℙ𝔼ℕ   ||   pinehaven   carnival;   anyone's   welcome. @pinehavenstarters

strangely   amos   found   himself   in   a   better   mood.   at   least,   he   found   himself   settling   in   and   already   comfortable   enough   with   the   gathered   crowd   at   the   festival   to   be   a   bit   more   present   amongst   them.   with   cotton   candy   tinting   his   lips   with   a   lingering   shade   of   pink,   a   piece   of   it's   fluff   still   stuck   to   the   stubble   over   his   upper   lip,   he   found   himself   settling   into   line   for   the   tea   cups   with   a   rare,   relaxed   smile. despite   how   loud   and   busy   it   seemed   this   place   wasn't   so   bad. he   could   get   used   to   pinehaven. he   could   do   this. whatever   confidence   he   had   in   that   moment,   if   you   could   even   call   it   that,   abandoned   ship   the   second   he   got   to   the   front   of   the   line   and   was   stopped   when   he explained   he   was   riding   alone.   “i   recognize   you   think   it's   more   fun   with   someone   else   but   i-   i   ain't   got   anyone   else.   i   don't   know   anyone,”   he   tried   to   politely   explain   that   he   was   new   in   town   and   didn't   have   anyone   to   ask   to   ride   with   him--   and   even   if   he   did   know   someone,   he   should   have   still   been   able   to   ride   alone,   but   they   insisted.   he   needed   someone   to   ride   with   him.   it   wouldn't   be   as   fun   if   he   didn't.

“alright,   alright.   if   you   can   find   me   someone,”   amos   started   to   give   in   only   to   dip   his   head   forward   and   hide   behind   the   brim   of   his   stetson   as   the   attendant   yelled   out   that   they   had   a   single   rider   looking   for   a   partner.   “you   didn't   have   to   go   and   do   all   that…” this   was   why   he   preferred   keeping   to   himself. thankfully   someone   was   kind   enough   to   put   him   quickly   out   of   his   misery   and   stepped   up   to   join   him.   “i--”   the   rest   of   his   words   reduced   to   a   huff   as   he   pursed   his   lips   and   looked   up   at   them   with   furrowed,   uncomfortable   brows   as   the   attendant   told   them   they   were   good   to   climb   into   their   teacup;   and   to   have   fun.   “you   didn't   have   to   do   that,”   he   mumbled   the   offering   to   the   person   walking   with   him,   not   the   attendant.   “but   thank   ya.”

jay was entirely in his element. the annual pinehaven festival was the crown jewel of the off season, and he had spent the last two hours completely unbothered by scheduling, drifting from game booth to game booth with a giant bucket of popcorn tucked securely under his bicep. he didn’t have a plan, which was exactly how he liked it; he was just floating along the gravel pathways, letting the blinking neon signs and the distant screams from the roller coaster guide his steps. when he drifted toward the center of the fairgrounds, his ears pricked up at the sound of an automated megaphone. an attendant was waving a hand, trying to fill an empty slot on one of the most chaotic attractions on the lot.

"ayo, hold the phone! single occupant? say no more, i am officially reporting for duty!" his looming silhouette effectively eclipsed the blinking carnival bulbs as he practically leaped out of the dense crowd. recognizing what he considered an absolute emergency, he’d abandoned his aimless wandering instantly. his lips broadened into a giant, dazzling smile, eyes crinkling into happy crescent shapes as he smoothly slid past the iron divider right alongside the stenson wearing stranger.

jay completely missed the quiet stiffness radiating off his new companion, entirely oblivious to the underlying awkwardness. instead, his focus zoomed straight into the center of the man's expression. "dude, check it, you've got a minor situation happening right here," jay chuckled warmly, gesturing with a thick index finger toward his own mouth area to hint at the stray sugary threads. "major confectionery hazard. massive respect, though. that pink fluff is top tier."

without waiting for a reply, the hockey player eagerly grabbed the edges of the painted porcelain saucer, practically vibrating with enthusiastic energy as he scrambled inside. the fiberglass tub creaked under his heavy athletic build. he dropped down onto the narrow bench, long legs taking up a comical amount of the available floor space, leaving just enough room for his partner to squeeze in opposite him.

"are you kidding? spinning around until our vision blurs is literally my primary skill set," jay beamed, his tenor carrying easily over the loud circus melodies as he firmly gripped the central steering ring with both hands. "besides, flying solo on this specific vehicle is a total safety risk. if you don't have a co captain to maximize the physical velocity, you just drift. we are going to crank this bad boy until we can see into next week. i'm jay, by the way. welcome to the thunder dome."

who: anyone! where: pinehaven cemetary synopsis: charlotte dae is working on her latest book and has found inspiration in an unexpected place.

TW: some mentions of passed loved ones, unsolved crimes.

esme was quickly beginning to comprehend that the pacific northwest had a habit of stalling out, a quiet stagnation where the seasons simply bled together into one long, damp sigh. summer in pinehaven didn't appear to blaze; it merely forgot to weep. esme had only been in town for a single week, a brief seven days of navigating unfamiliar streets and feeling entirely out of alignment with the quiet, insular rhythm of the place. she didn't know a soul here yet. her days had been spent scouting locations, looking for sturdy branches to climb, and trying to ignore the restless itch that always accompanied a new zip code.

that restlessness was what had driven her to wander into the cemetery that afternoon. it was peaceful, isolated, and bounded by trees magnificent enough to make any aerialist look up with calculating eyes. she was leaning her back against the rough bark of a towering cedar, one leg pulled up to her chest so she could lazily circle her left ankle; the joint was always stiff when the humidity hung low like this.

from her vantage point under the shade, she watched the stranger a few yards away. the woman had been sitting on the grass for an hour, completely swallowed up by the machine humming on her lap. esme had caught snatches of the woman's voice drifting through the air; mutterings about chapters and detectives and killers. most intriguing. esme picked a dry blade of grass, spinning it between her fingers as she listened to the woman debate her own plot timeline. finally, the silence of the graveyard felt a little too heavy, and the urge to disrupt the quiet took over.

"chapter eight sounds like a gamble," esme said, her voice cutting cleanly through the pine scented air. she didn't move from her spot against the tree, but her attention locked onto the writer. "if you hand over the wolf's den that early, you aren't just giving the reader a clue. you’re giving them permission to stop guessing. the audience should drown in the ambiguity a little longer." esme shifted, her boots scraping against the dirt as she uncoiled her long limbs and stretched her arms toward the sky, her powerful shoulder muscles flexing beneath her top. she offered the startled stranger a small, crooked smile. "but what do i know, i hate writing. and reading, actually."

Medalion Rahimi - @medalion_r

"I can say that Pinehaven seems like a wonderful place to raise children," Susie mused, glancing around the quiet, clean park. She couldn't even imagine what it would be like to grow up in a place like this. She truly hoped that Gaia got the chance to be small town raised. "It's a fresh start for us, too..." She agreed, her gaze back on Gaia, deciding that if she was going to keep having this conversation she didn't need to look at Lukas. "My entire childhood was on the road for one reason or another... I was living in Tampa for nearly a decade but the roots I made there..." She shrugged. "Weren't long lasting. But I've got hope that it'll be different here."

"I've got family here," Susie continued. "Family I haven't seen in a few years so... working myself up to see them hasn't been easy." She offered a small smile. "I'm not going to spill all my dirty laundry to a basic stranger but life before now hasn't been easy." She chuckled dryly. "I'm basically building our lives from the ground up all over again." Susie had done it before, and she knew she could do it again, but that didn't mean it would be easy. Didn't mean that she was looking forward to it. "So it's all been an interesting adjustment..." Susie looked at Lukas sidelong, deciding to ask him the same thing he'd asked about parenthood. "Any advice on making it work in a place so small?"

"ah, a clean slate can be a remarkably heavy thing to carry, but it is also a tremendous piece of architecture." he looked out toward the horizon where the emerald trees of the pacific northwest met a pale sky, his expression softening with a striking amount of understanding before letting out a soft, amused chuff at her mention of ritualistic purification. "i am noting that down immediately. if louisa starts levitating her plush toys, you will be my absolute first call, sage in hand. but in all seriousness, susie...the beautiful thing about a town built on this kind of soil is that it doesn't rush you. when you've spent a lifetime moving through shifting sands or asphalt that never stays still, a place that just...exists can feel almost jarring. but it lets you plant whatever you want."

he shifted slightly on the wooden bench, his long legs stretching out in front of him as he balanced his papers with an easy, practiced familiarity. he didn't push into the shadows of her past, he knew the shape of an old ache when he heard one, the quiet guard up around a story not yet ready to be told. so he simply met her where she was, offering a gentle, lanky shrug. "as for navigating a community this compact? my best counsel is to let the smallness of it become a safety net rather than a cage. in a massive city, your struggles are entirely swallowed by the noise. here, if you stumble, someone usually notices. not out of malice, but because people here have a wonderful habit of looking after one another."

he turned his head to look at her, his eyes warm behind his reading glasses. "don't rush the reunion with your folks, either. history has a way of settling into its proper place when the timing aligns. just focus on building the foundation of your new home first. and now that we've become acquainted, my office door over in the anthropology department is always unlocked. i keep an extraordinarily comfortable armchair in the corner and a stash of remarkably good tea that the dean doesn't know about. you are welcome to hide out there whenever you require a breath of fresh air."

⸻ She watched the entire sequence unfold with a quiet, structural fascination, her internal processing units highly self-aware of the crowded parameters surrounding them. When his large hand sought her own, the sudden, anchoring heat of his skin nearly caught her defensive system off guard. Instead of pulling away, her cool fingers tightened against his, leaning subtly into the firm, unyielding reality of his grip. Listening to his breakdown of the machinery, she gave him a slow, unreadable look beneath her unshielded features. It was almost alarming how easily his analytical mind could read her internal data; she had been thinking the carousel looked entirely outdated and structurally juvenile, even if her historical archives contained zero actual experience with an amusement park. This was her definitive first time within a fairground environment, and her system was still calibrating the overwhelming sensory data.

When his tall frame nudged against her side, she didn't pull back or realign her posture. Instead, she let her shoulder remain pressed against his chest, her sparkling grey-bluish hues tilting upward to fix him with a direct, slightly quizzical glance that held a trace of rare, private amusement. ❛ Your engineering defense matrix is quite persuasive, Lukas. ❜ She murmured, her low velvet rasp carrying a soft, deliberate vibration meant only for his proximity. ❛ Very well. I shall allow you to guide my system through this traditional kermis rotation. Let us secure the passes. ❜

the deliberate friction of her torso against his chest acted as an immediate weight, stabilizing his sprawling, lanky frame right there on the perimeter of the revolving deck. he took a slow breath, the ambient scent of caramelized sugar and old engine oil completely vanishing the moment her resonant murmur vibrated against his jawline. behind his lenses, his gaze darkened with a profound intensity that thoroughly contradicted his usual dorky demeanor. "i, of course," he stammered, his vocal cords tightening into a husky pitch as he looked up at her new vantage point. "the structural elevation gives you a...a highly advantageous command of the field, doesn't it?"

without a moment's hesitation, his large hands found the curve of her waist, his palms spreading wide against the fabric of her ensemble to provide a solid, unwavering lever. with a fluid, deceptively effortless lift that spoke to a quiet strength hidden beneath his silhouette, he assisted her ascent, ensuring her footing was perfectly secure before she swung her leg over the saddle with that immaculate, aristocratic grace. the brief electricity of her skin beneath his fingers left his heart doing a series of wild, uncoordinated acrobatics against his ribs. he didn't select an extravagant mount for himself; instead, he quickly claimed a neighboring, stationary chariot right beside her chosen steed, ensuring his physical proximity remained an absolute constant. his long limbs settled into the space, shoulder almost brushing the stirrup of her wooden mount as the ancient klaxon sounded, signaling the commencement of the rotation.

"the positioning is entirely secure, älskling," lukas promised softly, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners with an unvarnished devotion as the platform beneath them began its slow, heavy awakening. the carousel creaked to life, a shifting mosaic of golden illumination and mirrored reflections dancing across the canvas of her freckled cheeks. he reached across the narrow divide, his fingers loosely mirroring her grip on the central brass rod, his thumb lightly brushing the back of her hand. "the mechanical synchronization is officially underway! oh, look at that, the overhead gears are transferring the vertical energy perfectly without a single hitch. whatever the velocity, my proximity to you is a non negotiable constant."

⸻ Alice picks up her phone, her fingers moving across the glass with rapid, practiced efficiency as she saves the shared contact. She makes a critical mental note to initiate contact the exact moment she arrives back at her temporary Airbnb, considering she has a razor-thin window of forty-eight hours to finalize her structural assets before her current housing arrangement expires. ❛ Obrigada, Lukas. I truly appreciate the reference. ❜ She says, her tone carrying an uncharacteristic sincerity that cuts through her default corporate armor.

An amused, sharp smirk creeps onto her features as she lifts her own glass, the amber liquid catching the low light of the pub. She tilts it in his direction, completely matching his toast with an elegant, unwavering focus. ❛ To permanent strongholds and flawless paperwork. Cheers. ❜ She repeats smoothly, keeping her dark, warm eyes locked onto his as she takes a measured sip of her drink. Setting the glass back down with precise coordination, she leans her forearms lightly against the counter, her mind fluidly shifting from real estate acquisition back to the immediate social landscape of Pinehaven.

"oh yes, the wedding!" he cheered, he'd almost forgotten how quickly the date was approaching for that particular town event. "we wouldn't miss it for the world. though, if i am being entirely transparent with you, the mere logistics of transporting a pair of eight month olds through a formal ceremonial setting has become quite the build of strategy. bella and i have already conjured up a minute by minute contingency plan involving a rotating schedule of pacifiers, organic teething biscuits, and a tactical retreat to the parking lot the exact second leon decides to test the acoustic limits of the chapel." he leaned his massive elbows on the bartop, a secretive gleam lighting up behind his wire rimmed lenses as he tilted his head closer to hers. "but the real triumph? the dress. i’ve already taken care of it."

he paused, looking thoroughly pleased with himself, like he had unearthed a pristine relic right under the noses of his peers. "now, look at me. i am a man who considers a slightly less rumpled linen button down and coordinating tweed jacket to be the absolute pinnacle of haute couture. my fashion expertise is entirely compromised by dust and utility. but i know bella. i know that with the babies consuming every spare second of her day, she would have simply reached into the depths of her closet at the absolute last minute, pulled out a perfectly lovely but familiar slip dress she’s worn a dozen times, and called it a day because she is far too selfless to worry about herself right now." his features softened, a bottomless tenderness bleeding into his voice as his hands traced abstract shapes in the air, trying to visualize the image in his mind.

"so, I went entirely rogue and reached out to a small boutique in paris that i used to frequent for museum gala attire. i spent three hours describing her to the designer. her measurements, the way she moves, that specific, radiant gold of her hair," he trailed off momentarily with a loving sigh, suddenly feeling very much that he would like to return home soon to see her visage in person. "nothing fussy, she's not a fan of things like that. i haven't given it to her just yet. i’m waiting for tomorrow evening, the exact moment the twins are finally asleep and the house settles to surprise her with it."

he beamed, a cheeky grin crinkling the corners of his eyes as he took another sip of his ale, his mind clearly wandering to the anticipated reveal. "but what about you, alice? please tell me you aren't going to spend the entire evening running your beloved risk assessments from the comfort of your fortress. are you planning to make an appearance at the ceremony?"

"...and if you keep furrowing your brow like that it's gonna get stuck. i don't want to be liable for the frown lines and the bill to repair it. i'm a man of my word--this is supposed to be fun," the sardonic lilt in his tone punctuated with the final slurp of his drink. indiana slipped comfortably into the overly saturated scent of grease, sweat, and artificial sweeteners that seemed to be pumped so effortlessly into the air. it seemed a standard aphrodisiac for pinehaven's carnival season. the lingering notes of the event would clung to most fabrics, survive most twirls in the wash, until the first gust of cold that would breeze through the hemlocks.

he wouldn't want it any other way. the ever freeing choice to let go, even in the face of what struck fear into you at the core, only presented itself in such a benign way once or twice in a lifetime. there were no strings or stipulations that held up the integrity of your entire life in moments like these. a choice to allow the ebb and flow of the moment to carry your body along for the ride just before image faded into the marbled horizon. indiana lived for these moments. to unburden the pressures of his own station as a stabilizing force in the folds of his family's moral fabric. his fingers looped between the delicate fabric of her shorts, dragging shreya closer into his orbit, as if to drag her from the looming clouds of her anxious rumination.

"everything is up to code. we checked each ride and even tidied up the fire lanes. didn't you seem my handy work with the twigs and dust?" his gaze cast beyond her shoulder at the golden eye in the sky; a gilded circle parading tiny little cars in the final twirl of the evening before the fireworks blew. "since you've chosen to diss my favorite beverage, a good ole dirty dr. p, you owe me a ride on bertha. you can't back out because we're already in line and i'm bigger than you."

the rough drag of his fingers against the hem of her tailored shorts sent a disbelieving jolt through her measured fortifications, pulling her abruptly out of the spiraling apprehensions in her mind. shreya let out an incredulous breath, eyes dropping down to where his large hand effectively moored her to the gravel midway with palpable indignation. "bertha? you’ve named an archaic mass of rotating iron and chipped paint bertha?" she asked in a dry clip that tried desperately to mask the way her pulse spiked, further punctuated by the defiant fold of arms across her torso, her boots planted firmly against the dirt as if she could physically resist the momentum of his casual confidence.

she looked up with a quick gulp of nerves, the ferris wheel looming over them like a massive, gilded coin spinning on its edge, parading its tiny metal cars against a horizon that looked like bruised plums and crushed marigolds. the overwhelming aroma of the midway seemed to settle right into the heavy knit of her cardigan, a sensory imprint she knew would stubbornly survive three cycles in the washing machine before finally fading when the autumn wind began to cut through the evergreens.

it was infuriating how easily he could just shed the weight of the world, how he could look at a safety deficient playground and see total liberation. she spent every waking hour analyzing the fragile boundary between existence and the void, building walls out of critical thinking and textbook definitions to keep the panic at bay. but indy just stood there completely unburdened by the gravity that usually kept her tethered to the earth. she cut a sharp look up at his towering frame, lips twitching, "and what, exactly, is your backup plan if i refuse? are you going to toss me over your shoulder like you're carrying me out of a burning building? because brute force is a highly primitive method of crowd control."