Grayson - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

Love Leaves Scars: Lies After Lies

[L.L.S Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [G.H Masterlist]

Warning: none

Pairing: Oc!reader x Grayson Hawthorne

W.C: 1.1k

"What are you doing here?" His voice is harsh and cruel.

It felt like two poisonous fangs stab themselves into my heart, releasing venom. My heart aches yet I tell myself I shouldn't feel that way. I deserve this. The eyes that once gazed at me as if I held the world now transform. They are no longer soft and filled with love. His gaze has hardened, brimming with profound hatred and anger. I cannot blame him. The girl he loved had departed after a night of passion and promises. After three years, he is now looking at the same girl he once loved. The girl that put him through hell and back. I was that girl. Verity Rosewood is that girl.

 "She's named in the will, Gray," Nash explains. Grayson's hard gaze never leaves mine. I wish it didn't. I wish he would continue to stare at me like this. Even if it was no longer as soft and loving as it used to be. Grayson opens his mouth to speak but Xander beats him to it. "I have scones! Come eat them with me, Reri!" Xander quickly grabs hold of my wrist and drags me away from the scene. "I'll bring everything upstairs!" I heard Nash announce as I was being dragged away by his much taller but younger brother.

Reri. A nickname Xander used to call me when he was younger. A nickname I haven't heard in years but the feeling of hearing it stays the same. It was still as warm and welcoming.

After a bit more running and dragging by Xander, we finally reached the kitchen. I couldn't help myself remember all the memories we had in this room. Baking cookies, late-night snacks, stealing ice cream after bedtime, my first kiss.

"A blueberry scone?" Xander offered. "I'd rather have a lemon one," I say. A sour expression stays on his face for a moment but still offers me a lemon scone. "Blueberry scones are better than the lemon ones," Xander started and I scoffed at him. "Blueberry scones are too sweet. Diabetes would be knocking at your door every time you eat one," I argued back. He ignores my argument and places the Blueberry scones closer to him.

"I missed you, Reri," Xander says suddenly. I missed you too. I wanted to say those 4 words back but I couldn't get the words out of my mouth. They continue to be thoughts I couldn't translate into words. I stay silent. It's all I could do at the moment. "We all did," Xander added. Lies.

I couldn't believe those words. I could never do that. My hand was gripping the edge of the counter so tightly that my knuckles were turning white. My head lowered as I felt Xander's gaze on me, waiting for a response that would never come. He sighs and looks down on his plate. It was now my turn to look at him. This is the only time I see how he matured over time. 3 years. 3 years have passed since I last saw Xander. He's grown. Jawline more defined, shoulders broader, he was taller, but his hair was still as fluffy as it used to be.

"Reri, play with me, please!" A little Xander Hawthorne begged. He took my hand and led me into the living room where a chess board was laid out. He gestured for me to sit on the white side of the board while he sat on the black. "White plays first,"

I'm sorry. 2 words I wanted to say but struggled to let out. I open my mouth but close them again. The words are familiar yet feel foreign to my tongue. I'm sorry won't make up for the lost time. I'm sorry won't make up for the wounds I've created. I'm sorry would never fix the broken and it never will. They were merely overused words; words that are only words. I don't feel sorry for leaving. Deep down I am but I knew my reasons why I left. I left because… because?

"Xander, it would be best if you let Verity rest," Nash says walking inside the kitchen. How long has he been hiding? Has he heard? Xander gives a nod before waving goodbye. I waved back at him before leaving the two brothers alone in the kitchen.

Every year Tobias Hawthorne would add a room in the Hawthorne House. Another piece to the puzzle was added. Another trap. Another riddle. I walk through hallways and enter rooms leading me to another one. All of it felt familiar. I couldn't help but feel a smile creep on my face as I allowed myself to feel. To remember. For once in my life, I allowed myself to reminisce the memories that I continue to lock away.

"You shouldn't be here," Grayson says out of nowhere. I jumped at his sudden appearance. He was standing by the doorway of one of the rooms in the Hawthorne House. His back was straight and his shoulders tensed. "You shouldn't have come," He says walking closer to me. Stop, don't come closer. I stay silent and let him talk. "You should have ignored their pleas," Another step. An inch closer to me. He was so close yet felt so far.

Like I always do. 

"Like you always do," He added. There it was. I knew he would say it. The words he knew would stab knives and make my heart bleed. "Leave and never come back, Verity," Grayson ordered. His voice is as cold as his eyes. I felt small and vulnerable. It was like I was 6 years old all over again. 

"After the will reading, I'll be out your hair Gray. Until then, I'll make sure not to wander around for you to see me," I give him a small smile. A fake smile. That was what I could give him. That's what I could only give him. My shoulders brush past him as I walk away. I felt him tense from the simple contact of our shoulders but he doesn't move at all. 

"Asnid's in your old room," I heard Jameson say. He was leaning on the wall outside the room Grayson and I were in. I'm sure he heard the things Grayson told me. "Thank you, Jamie," I was about to walk away when he held onto my wrist. "He doesn't hate you as much as it looks," He says in a low voice. Probably for Grayson not to hear his confession. Another lie. 

I smile at Jameson and remove my wrist from his grasp. "There's no need to lie, Jamie," Grayson walked out of the room after I said those words. He glances at me and Jameson but says nothing and leaves. 

I allow my eyes to watch him walk down the corridor and out my sight. I could feel Jameson's eyes on me but I simply walked away from him as well. I just wish the will reading would start as soon as it can. Because I don't think I could last another second in this house with the man I once love loved. 

Taglist: @whysosmugwitch

Grayson Hawthorne Masterlist

[Main Masterlist]

Requests are open!

One shots coming soon

Series Love Leaves Scars Sypnosis: In which! Due to a letter calling her to go back to Texas Verity Rosewood goes back to the place she spent years trying to forget. While she is there, she tries to reconnect with the people she left. Her family, friends, and especially the person she loved most.

Love Leaves Scars: Plot Twist of the Century

[L.L.S Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [G.H Masterlist]

Warning: Skye is a warning yall

Pairing: Oc!reader x Grayson Hawthorne

W.C: 2.3k

I observe as the sky is bathed in a soft hue of blue, and the sun emerges from its slumber. The sky is adorned with wisps of clouds and the graceful presence of birds, infusing it with vibrant life and color. A gentle, chilly breeze brushes against my skin, causing a light shiver to ripple through me. I draw my blanket closer, taking solace in its warmth, as I savor each sip of the steaming coffee I have brewed. All the while, my gaze remains fixed upon the ever-changing canvas of the sky, as well as the graceful movements of the birds.

"You're awake quite early," I hear Asnid's morning voice raspily remark. "Good morning," I greet her warmly, setting my mug down on the table of the balcony. Asnid settles into the vacant chair opposite me, reaching out to take a sip from my mug. "From what I recall, you're not one to wake up early, Vers," Asnid remarks. "I found it difficult to sleep last night," I confess, my voice tinged with vulnerability. Sleep has evaded me ever since our arrival here, five days ago.

"Is the bed not providing enough comfort?" Asnid inquires, her concern evident. I assure her that the bed is perfectly adequate. It's simply that the memories I have tried desperately to forget persistently haunt me, even within the realm of my dreams. Ever since I turned twelve, I have been unable to dream at all, and I can't even remember the last time I ever did dream. Yet, sleeping within Hawthorne House has reawakened my ability to dream. Alas, these dreams are far from pleasant—they can rather be described as nightmares.

"Are you nervous about the will reading?" Asnid speculates. "Why would I be nervous about something like that? Im sure Tobias Hawthorne included me in that will for one of his games," I reply. But deep down, is that truly the case?

I turn away from Asnid and fix my gaze upon the captivating vista before us. Hawthorne House, perched upon its expansive estate, commands attention. The forest surrounding us sways in unison with the whims of the wind.My eyes remain on the scene, for a moment, I felt a semblance of peace wash over me. A semblance, but not quite complete.

"We should eat breakfast, Verity," Asnid suggests, rising from her seat. Reluctantly, I tear my eyes away from the captivating view, following Asnid downstairs to the dining area. The long table is adorned with an array of breakfast delicacies—varieties of bread, succulent fruits, and a tempting assortment of treats. It is a veritable feast, brimming with flavors that screams sugar rush. "Good morning, Miss Verity and Miss Asnid," one of the maids greets us before departing to the kitchen.

I pull out a chair for Asnid, then take my place beside her. It doesn't take long before the remaining occupants of Hawthorne House begin to trickle into the dining area, joining us for breakfast. However, one person is noticeably absent.

"Where might dearest Grayson be?" Xander inquires, his mouth full of bread. "He left yesterday for some errands and hasn't come back," Nash replies. My eyes meet Nash's, and he raises an eyebrow inquisitively. I simply lower my head, focusing on the food before me. Silence settles upon the room, punctuated only by a small exchange of words.Everything remained silent until...

"I'm home!" a voice rings out, shattering the tranquility.

As Skye Hawthorne enters the dining room, the atmosphere shifts. The three grandchildren momentarily pause their eating before resuming.

"Good morning, boys, did you miss me?" She ask while giving a three of them a half-hearted hugs before her attention turns to me. Her eyes light up, and a sly smirk forms on her lips.

"Verity Rosewood, long time no see, my dear," Skye greets me, approaching with enthusiasm. I rise from my seat and reciprocate the hug she offers. "Oh, how I missed my favorite future daughter-in-law," she remarks, planting a kiss on my cheek. I resume my seat as Skye takes the one beside me.Just great. 

Skye then turns her attention to Asnid, "Well, who is this pretty lady over here?" Asnid, taken aback by the question, blushes deeply and introduces herself politely. "I'm Asnid, nice to meet you, Miss Hawthorne," she responds with a sweet smile. Skye attempts to return the gesture, though a fleeting expression of disgust betrays her true feelings. Skye possesses a talent for feigning kindness, concealing her true emotions.

Concerning Grayson's whereabouts, Skye poses the same question she asked her sons earlier. Nash provides the same response he shared with Xander, indicating that Grayson ventured out on errands and has yet to return. Skye then shifts her attention back to me, "How are you, Verity? I've missed you, my dear,"

"I've been doing great, actually," I reply, offering a sweet smile as I continue to enjoy my breakfast. Skye's hand delicately tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, further blurring the boundaries of comfort. Such a sweet but fake act. "Where is Zara? Shouldn't she be here when the will reading starts?" Skye queries, indulging in bread and fruit as she awaits an answer.

After excusing ourselves from the table to give the Hawthorne family their privacy, Asnid and I walk away, leaving the dining room. I can sense Skye's gaze following us until we leave the room.

"Who is that lady?" Asnid asks once we are out of earshot. I reply, "That's Skye Hawthorne, the second-born daughter of Tobias and the mother of the four grandchildren." Asnid murmurs her suspicion, "She seems like bad news."

"She is, so be careful," I warn her. Asnid nods obediently, understanding the potential dangers. We decide to minimize our interactions with the Hawthornes by staying in our room until the will reading commences.

As I assist Asnid in zipping up her dress, she raises a question. "Do you think the Avery girl has arrived by now?" I consider her inquiry and respond, "If she hasn't, it means we'll be staying here even longer until the next scheduled will reading." Asnid then confides, "I kind of like it here." Our eyes meet in the mirror before us. I cannot deny that I share a similar sentimentI couldn't say that I didn't feel the same. It's hard to enjoy staying in the house that haunts you even in your dreams. It's hard to enjoy staying in the house which makes me remember memories I choose to forget. It's hard to enjoy staying in the house where you met your first love.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your stay here, hon," I offer a small smile, which she reciprocates. Words alone would not suffice to convey the depth of my disdain for this place—the unsettling feelings it evokes, the memories it forces me to confront, and the sight of the man I once loved.

Our attention is diverted to the sound of a knock on the door. "Asnid? Verity? You need to come down now," Nash's voice reaches us from the other side. Asnid responds, "We'll be out in a minute!" She places a hairclip in her hair, and I patiently wait as Nash's footsteps fade away.

"I'm done! Let's go!" Asnid exclaims, grabbing my hand as we make our way down the stairs and into the Great Room. As we enter, the room is already filled with people, although the main event has yet to commence. Oren, Tobias's head bodyguard, stands by the wall, strategically positioned to observe the room's exits. The Laughlin family occupies one side of the room, while Zara and her husband engage in conversation with the lawyers, Grayson at their side. Nan sits at the front right of the room, with Xander irritating her incessantly. Skye occupies a solitary seat, and the remaining Hawthorne boys are seated together.

"Let's sit beside them!" Asnid whispers to me with excitement, suggesting that we sit beside the two unfamiliar girls in the wingback chairs. One of the girls had long brown hair while the other had short blue hair.  Eagerly, we take the seats beside them. The girls turn their attention to us as we settle in. Asnid takes the initiative, extending her arm and introducing herself. "Hi! I'm Asnid! What's your name?" she asks cheerfully, and both girls shake her hand. The brunette girl introduces herself as Avery, while the one with blue hair is named Libby.

"Oh! You're the girl mentioned in the will too!" Asnid exclaims, pointing out Avery's connection. Avery nods in acknowledgment. "Do you know why? Were you mentioned too or are you related to these people?" Libby asks.  "Honestly we're as confused as you are. I'm not mentioned but Verity is," Asnid says before linking her arm with mine2 and reassures them, "We're not related to the Hawthornes, don't worry." I observe as Libby visibly relaxes. "Finally, someone who isn't 'richy rich'," she exhales, prompting giggles from Asnid.

Deciding to engage in further conversation, Asnid moves to sit beside Libby while Avery takes Asnid's previous seat. A"Were you dragged into this as well?" Avery asks. "Yeah, sort of," I chuckled. "Do you have a history with them?" Avery shoots another question. I hesitated to give her a truthful answer but eventually still did. I nodded my head and told her how I used to play with the four Hawthorne grandchildren when we were young.

Avery responds, "Good for you, because I don't." Tobias Hawthorne you sick old man. "Even in death, he likes to play stupid games," I sigh, expressing my frustration. Avery begins to offer a reply, but her words are cut off by one of the lawyers in the room. "Now that everyone is here, it would be wise to start," the lawyer announces, and the three of them position themselves in a triangle formation, signaling the beginning of the proceedings.

The lawyer, whom I recognize as Alisa's father, begins by stating that we are gathered to hear the last will and testament of Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne. He explains that per Mr. Hawthorne's instructions, his colleagues will now distribute letters that he had left for each of us. The other lawyers begin to walk around the room, handing out the assigned letters to each person.

I receive my letter, and I notice that Avery has received hers as well. From the corner of my eye, I see Asnid staring at me with a worried expression. I turn to her and offer an assuring smile. I mouth the words "I'm fine" to her, and she nods, redirecting her attention back to the lawyers. "You may read the letters given to you once the will reading has concluded," The lawyer instructed. 

The lawyer proceeds to explain that Tobias had stipulated that all individuals mentioned in his will must be physically present, and we have all fulfilled that requirement. The reading of the will officially commences.

"I, Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne, being of sound body and mind, decree that my worldly possessions, including all monetary and physical assets, be disposed of as follows," Mr. Ortega reads aloud, ensuring that everyone in the room can hear his words.

The room is filled with a palpable tension. Everyone is on the edge of their seats, their hearts pounding against their chests and their breaths held in anticipation. The silence is so profound that the ticking of the clock is audible.

One by one, each person present in the room is given their share of Tobias's fortune and assets. When Skye and Zara receive their share, they engage in a heated sibling dispute, creating a disturbance in the middle of this crucial event. Mr. Ortega intervenes, calming the two down and emphasizing the near impossibility of challenging the will. Now, it is time to address the grandsons.

"To my grandsons, Nash Westbrook Hawthorne, Grayson Davenport Hawthorne, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, and Alexander Blackwood Hawthorne, I leave..." As Mr. Ortega's voice resonates through the room, the tension reaches its peak. Zara mutters bitterly, "Everything," expressing her discontent with the situation.

"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars apiece, payable on their twenty-fifth birthdays, until such time to be managed by Alisa Ortega, trustee," Mr. Ortega continues. 

Another eruption of Hawthorne family drama ensues, triggered by these words. The wealth distribution becomes apparent: the grandsons receive their allotted amounts, the two daughters receive Tobias's belongings and five hundred thousand dollars, Nan receives her daughter's jewelry and a yearly sum of one hundred thousand dollars, Oren is bequeathed a toolbox and three hundred thousand dollars, and a mere one hundred dollars are designated for the Laughlin family. "Please, everyone," Mr. Ortega held up a hand and everyone stopped talking all at once. "Allow me to finish," The room goes silent once again but this time everyone turns to me and Avery sitting beside each other. 

"Please, everyone," Mr. Ortega raises his hand, and the room falls silent once again. All eyes turn towards me and Avery, who are seated beside each other. The anticipation hangs heavily in the air.

"The remainder of my estate, including all properties, I leave to Avery Kylie Grambs," Mr. Ortega announces. The room fills with a mixture of surprise and astonishment. Libby and Avery's eyes widen at the lawyer's words. I can feel the weight of everyone's gaze upon me, waiting for the rest of the will to be read.

"All remaining monetary assets and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to..."

My heart races uncontrollably, pounding against my chest, clamoring to be set free. The sound of my own heartbeat drowns out all other noise. My ears feel as though they're ringing, overwhelmed by its deafening rhythm. I struggle to draw a breath, feeling as if my lungs are suffocating, desperate for air. Every fiber of my being cries out for help, for relief. I cannot bring myself to meet anyone's gaze, not even Asnid's. In the midst of my distress, I sense Avery taking hold of my hand, offering a small measure of solace. Yet, it is not enough to quell the tumultuous screams and cries echoing within my heart.

"Verity Quinn Rosewood," Mr. Ortega finally utters my name, and the world around me seems to come crashing down.

Taglist: @whysosmugwitch

Love Leaves Scars: Your Move, My Riddle.

[L.L.S. Masterlist] | [G.H. Masterlist] | [M. Masterlist]

Warning: Mention of throwing up and being nauseous, Skye and Asnid having a screaming match, reader has a panic attack and faints, Skye is just being herself, and Tobias being a dickhead. (Tell me if I missed some)

Pairing: Oc!reader x Grayson Hawthorne

W.C: 1.4k

The room erupted in yells and accusations. And all of them were directed at me and Avery, but I could barely hear them through the ringing in my ears. I had my hand clutched to my chest, and my vision was blurry. My chest was heaving, and I felt myself gasp for air.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

was all I could hear.

I saw the blurry figure of Asnid arguing against Skye Hawthorne, and I tried to call out her name, but no sound came out. I tried to catch a single word that came out of the older Hawthorne's mouth, but it was no use. Her voice was simply hidden away by the loud sounds of my heart beating against my chest. My throat tightened and I felt less and less air enter my body.

"Breathe, Verity, breathe," I kept telling myself, but it was no use. It was as if no amount of reminding could teach me how to breathe. It was like I was underwater, and every intake of breath hurt and made me even more distressed.

I looked down at my hands and they were shaking uncontrollably. I stood up and felt the room spinning as I did so. I reached a shaking hand towards Asnid, but before I could get a hold of her arm, I felt my eyes close.

With one last final gasp of air, I allowed the darkness to embrace me in its warm and comforting embrace. I just hoped I didn't hit my head and bleed to death when I collapsed.

When I regained consciousness, I was laying in a king-sized bed. I blinked once. Twice. Thrice. My eyes adjusted to the bright light coming from the windows. My head was throbbing as I held it in my hands and sighed.

Once the throbbing subsided, I took in my surroundings. The walls were wrapped in a deep red color with gold intricate patterns. The floor was covered in a soft gray-white that tickled my toes as I walked around the room.

While looking around, I wondered if I was dead and this was the place I would be staying in for the rest of my afterlife.

The bed sat in the very middle, and across from it hung a big TV, possibly 55 inches. A small shelf placed below it held different kinds of books, allowing the guests of the room to enjoy and lose themselves in a reality built on words and imagination.

I was so caught up reading the titles on the spines that I failed to hear the door of my room open. It was only when I felt two arms wrap around my body and the flowery scent of the person's clothes invade my senses that I realized I was indeed alive.

"Asnid," I whispered, her name falling off my tongue so smoothly. I felt water dripping down on my neck where Asnid had buried her head. I chuckled softly and pried her head away from my neck. Her eyes and nose were red, and tears continued to stream down her face.

"I'm okay, Asnid, I'm okay," I assured her and placed her hand on my heart. A sob came out of her mouth, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. I whispered assuring phrases in her ear and gently patted her head.

It went on for a few more minutes before her breathing started to even out. She sniffled into my shirt, and I jokingly told her not to get snot on my favorite shirt. She shoved me away, laughing, her tears drying on her cheeks.

"Good thing Mr. Blonde guy saved your head before you got to hit it, I was so worried, Vers," she told me, holding my head in her hands.

"Grayson," I said under my breath. "Grayson? That's his name?"

I couldn't help but feel a warm, comforting feeling in my chest at the thought of Grayson's actions.

"Stop with the delusions, Verity," a voice in my head said, and I shook my head and closed my eyes. Focus. Focus. Focus. I repeated over and over.

"This bed feels so soft, Verity," Asnid said as she laid down and rolled around the bed in delight. I looked to my side and smiled at her as I watched her move around the bed and try to get comfortable, until something caught my eye.

There, sitting comfortably on my bedside table, was an envelope. To be specific, the envelope that the lawyers had given us before the will reading started.

The memories from the will reading resurfaced in my mind. From the moment we entered the room to the moment they'd announced me as the new owner of Tobias Hawthorne's belongings.

I started feeling the uncomfortable rumbling in my stomach. It made me sick. I felt like throwing up, but I didn't want to ruin and stink up the carpet.

"All remaining monetary assets and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, I leave to Verity Quinn Rosewood."

The words echoed in my head over and over and over again. The scenes of Asnid and Skye screaming at each other in anger, and Skye pointing her manicured finger at me, accusingly, flashed through my head. Nash and Jameson's laughter. Xander's jokes. Grayson's piercing grey eyes.

"Verity? Are you okay?" Asnid's concerned voice snapped me out of my trance. I tore my eyes away from the envelope and ran a hand through my hair, smiling at her.

I nodded at her, but her eyebrows pinched together, and her eyes continued to stare at me, utterly unconvinced of my response. "Yes, Asnid, I'm fine," I assured her with a soft smile and sat beside her.

Asnid turned to something behind me and reached for something I couldn't see. It wasn't until she placed it on my lap that I realized it was the unopened envelope.

"You should read it," Asnid nodded her head towards the envelope. She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Call me if you need me, I'll just go and check on Avery and Libby," Asnid said. I assumed the two other girls were staying in another room outside of mine.

I heard the soft indication of the door opening and closing. A shaky breath left my lips, and I reached for the envelope laying on my lap. My hands shaking slightly as I held the white paper in my hand.

Open it. Open the letter and read what he wrote.

I carefully ripped open the sealed envelope, and a card sat inside, waiting to be read. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

It's just a letter. Just a letter from the man you hate the most.

I took the card out of the envelope and read the words on it. I was expecting maybe a long explanation of why he chose me as his heir, why he chose to ruin my life again. Maybe I was hoping too much that he'd explain why he did what he did.

It was delusional. But I hoped and hoped and hoped. I was slapped awake by my own delusions.

4 words.

16 words.

"Your move, My Riddle."

No other words or letter were written on the paper. After his message, he had written his initials:

T.T.H.

I threw the card beside me on the bed and cradled my head in my hands. Anger, betrayal, and frustration bubbled in my chest. I wanted to scream and break something to let out my frustration, but I was sure it would be no use.

It would not help me in the slightest. It would not help my ongoing anger towards the now deceased Tobias Hawthorne.

T.T.H.

"Your move, My Riddle."

Riddle...

The words swarm in my head, and I could feel the pain pinching itself in my head once again. I was forced to recall all the times he called me that nickname. The number of times he used to congratulate me with that nickname. The number of times he prompted me to start my move in chess with that nickname.

"Your move, My Riddle."

My Riddle...

I hastily reached for the card again and noticed something I hadn't seen when I first read it.

Your move. My Riddle.

It was not an apostrophe, but a period.

My breath caught in my throat as the words started to make sense now.

It was an indication. He wasn't calling me "my riddle"; he wasn't just saying the phrase he used to say whenever we played chess. Now, this was no longer the chess game we played when I was younger. It wasn't just his little games we played during the weekends.

Tobias Hawthorne. Even in death, you are playing your silly little riddles.

I hurriedly ran to my door and yanked it open. "Asnid—" I began, but the rest of the words I wanted to say became air. Because standing in front of me was none other than Grayson Hawthorne.

Taglist: @whysosmugwitch

Tim and dick find some glasses and your fave photographer boi takes cheezy photos of dic

Instagram  //  Kofi

The Faith I have in #Caitvi !!!

So I noticed how that in this Tim. Is the only outlier. Like everyone else is in the rows while Tim is not, like is there any symbolism or am I reading too far into this?

Edit: I know there is not enough family members for even seating, that’s what I meant when I said “or am I reading too far into this?” It is a joke