#I wasn’t sure what kind of photo dump to do for Marcus

[kevjrr]

A little Marcus appreciation post

For @karotland and @cryingforcrocodiles 🫶🏽

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 11

A/N: Next chapter is here. This one has some angst. I expected dinner to go longer but the angst felt like it needed to take precedent. There is a slight time jump about half way through the chapter. Feedback is always appreciated!  Trigger warning alcohol abuse. implied drunk driving. 

I was up early again the next morning to start getting things ready for dinner. The counter quickly became a picture of organized chaos. I had ingredients for dessert out on the island, waiting to be made into my mum’s favourite cake. Monty woke up a while later and after a cup of coffee, was ready to help me cook. “Morning love.” I greeted after he finished his coffee.

“Morning you.” He kissed my forehead softly. “What do you need help with first?”

“Can you grab the mushrooms and plastic wrap please? I’m getting ready to start heating the pan for the meat up now.”

“Sure thing. What am I doing with them?”

“Blitzing them.” I stated. Looking up from my cake recipe, I bit my lip to hold back a laugh. He looks so confused. It’s adorable.

“What now? Also don’t do that.”

“Blitzing them. In the food processor until they’re chopped small. Don’t do what?” I asked, coyly, pushing his very pushable buttons.

“You know exactly what. Don’t think I’m not taking note of all these tests missy. It’s going to be a very long day for you in a few weeks.”

“Oh I’m counting on you noting.” I muttered under my breath. He growled lowly and I whimpered. “Mushrooms mister. That’s what you need to be concerned with. Not sex.”

“The mushrooms can wait a few minutes.”

“We can’t have sex and I’m not giving you a blowjob in the kitchen.” I told him as I moved to the stove to turn on the heat.

“I didn’t say anything about blowjobs or the kitchen Addison.”

I paused. Insufferable. “You are such a little shit. Sit down and blitz my mushrooms.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Don’t ever call me that again. It’s too domme-y for me.”

Monty laughed and muttered a retort under his breath. Ignoring his sexual comment and the ever-present sexual tension, I set about getting the cake batter ready.

While the cake was in the oven, I set about searing the meat and getting the prosciutto ready for wrapping. I could feel Monty’s eyes on me as I worked. He gave me the bowl of the food processor and I dumped them into a dry pan, as per the recipe instructions. The meat was seared off and resting on a plate. Everything was going according to plan. I had Monty slather the tenderloin in mustard and wrap it tightly again. “Now it sits in the fridge for a while.”

“I can think of many things we can do to occupy our time.” He smirked, cheekily at me.

“Montgomery. No.”

“Okay, okay. Can’t blame a guy for trying.” I grinned at him and walked around the island, over to the laundry closet.

“You can help me fold laundry instead.”

“Oh joy.” He rolled his eyes playfully. I giggled at him and he smiled. Together, we went about folding the laundry on our bed and organizing it into the appropriate drawers. He made the odd lude comment on my underwear and I simply shook my head. My man and his one-track mind.

Once the laundry was folded, we set the table and got a few more dinner elements ready to be cooked. Mom loves mashed garlic potatoes, so I tossed some garlic in oil and roasted it. Soon, the whole house smelled like the sweet aroma of roasted garlic. I had Monty man the vegetables while I went and changed into my red sweater dress. He changed into a dressier flannel and crisp white t-shirt. How can one man make white look so nice? We spent the rest of the day taking care of minor household things and enjoying each other’s company.

My parents arrived at five, with salad in hand. Dad must have told her we were having food. “Hey Mum, hey Dad.” I called from my place at the island. I lit a cinnamon candle a few minutes ago to cover the garlic smell.

“Hi sweetie. Where’s my favourite son-in-law?” Mom joked.

“Right here. Hi Margot. Happy birthday.” Monty greeted her, exiting our room and balancing his crutches to hug her. “Hey Brooks.” He greeted my dad.

“Hey Monty.  How’s the leg feeling? Hey Addy.” My dad asked, hanging up their coats before walking over and giving me a side hug. It was still kind of awkward for my dad to hug me, but I smiled and hugged him back.

“Meh. It’s feeling okay. The pain comes and goes.”

“It feels better when he actually uses his crutches and rests.” I teased playfully.

“Yes dear.” He shot back. I shook my head, smiling, and got the waiting wellington out of the fridge. The oven beeped as I closed the door and put it in.

“Happy birthday mom.”

“Thank you. It smells delicious.”

“Beef wellington and garlic mashed potatoes with steamed assorted carrots.”

“My favourite.” She smiled.

“Babe would you mind filling a pot with water for the potatoes?”

“Sure.” I nodded and went about peeling the potatoes. “Salt?”

“Yes please. Oh, and Justin says happy birthday too mom.”

“Tell him thank you for me.”

“I will.”

The four of us spent the half hour while dinner cooked and rested, chatting about our weeks. Dinner was fairly uneventful, but delicious. Mum loved her new pumpkin vanilla candle and chocolate strawberry tea. Dad and I continued to try and navigate our new relationship. All in all, it was a nice way to end a weekend.

A couple of weeks later, Montgomery was given the all clear to begin physio by Dr. Marcus. Thankfully for both of us, that also meant he was cleared to begin to foray back into “physical intimacy”. Nothing too crazy yet. Yeah right. That’ll last maybe one round. It seemed that he was more excited to get to drive home than to have sex for the first time in weeks. In addition to sex, he was also able to give up the crutches for the most part. It was only if there was a particularly intense physio session, he would use them. He still wasn’t cleared to play sports, nor would he be for quite some time.

Even with not being able to actually play ball, being one step closer to that goal, seemed to help bring him back to normal a bit. Everything was going great for a week or two. He would go to physio three times a week and do his assigned exercises without complaint. He made sure not to push himself too hard. He didn’t stay out very late on game nights, and when he did, he would call or text me to let me know he was okay and on his way home.

I woke up to the sound of something crashing to the floor. In my half-sleeping state, I reached out to Montgomery’s side of the bed and found it cold. Feeling my nerves grow at being alone in the house, I checked the alarm clock beside the bed. 2:24am. I gulped and got out of bed, grabbing one of Monty’s sweaters to wear and the baseball bat he kept next to the dresser. I’ll never give him crap for keeping a bat next to the bed again.

Walking out of our room, I turned a corner and heard a very familiar voice. Monty was standing in the living room, muttering curse words to himself. I lowered the bat and turned on the lamp, causing him to jump, trying to hide what he had broken behind him. I could tell he was wasted just by looking at him. He had to hold on to the wall to keep himself upright. I set my face stoically and stared at him for a moment. It was then that I saw what he had broken. It was the framed photo on our side table, of us on our wedding day. Now I’m a little more upset. “It’s 2:30 in the morning.” I stated with my arms folded at my chest. He didn’t respond. Instead, he looked at me with an odd mixture of surprise and guilt. I shook my head and pivoted around to go back to bed, but not before firmly shutting the bedroom door.

The next morning, I woke up and got ready as usual. I walked out to the kitchen and did a double take at what I was witnessing. Shockingly, Monty was up and dressed in clean clothes already. He even had a cup of coffee to drink. I didn’t hear him come in our room. “Morning.” He said, from his seat at the table. He didn’t appear to be nursing that bad of a hangover, shockingly. Still mad, I ignored him, making myself a cup of coffee and getting my bag together for school. I didn’t spare the side table a glance, knowing that if I did, I would snap. His eyes followed my every move, probably internally begging me to speak to him.

“I’m meeting with my English teacher before class so I’m leaving now.” was all I said to him before I left the house.

I left the meeting with Mr. Luft about a recommendation letter in better spirits than when I left the house. It was a short-lived feeling because I spotted Monty brooding from across the hall. I knew he was waiting for me because he had neither a locker nor a class in this building at this time. My anger came back in full force when I saw him. Adjusting my bag on my shoulder, I walked straight past him. He followed close behind, hot on my heels. “Addy can we please talk about this?” I didn’t respond. He sighed gruffly, “can you say anything at all to me?” I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see my face. When we were away from students, in a less crowded area of the building, he tried again. “Addison, please?”

“I’m not fighting with you in public.” I told him, not turning around.

“We don’t have to fight in public. Will you please just say something about what happened? Are you really this upset about the fact that I broke a picture frame?” Upset that he… seriously? That’s what he thinks this is about? I mean, I’m upset that its broken, but it can be replaced. I’m upset because he came home drunk… again. I’m upset because he didn’t even text me to let me know he wasn’t coming home for a while, if it all. I’m not upset because of a goddamn picture frame.

“Don’t bother coming home tonight.” I ground out before walking away.

My friends were surprised when I walked over to their table at lunch and put my bag down, rather aggressively. “Hey Addy.” Tony greeted.

“Hey.” I replied, trying to keep the shortness out of my tone.

“How’re you?” Alex asked, digging around in his lunch bag.

“Fine. But let’s not talk about me. How are you guys?”

“Right. Fine. Uh… I’m good.” Justin said, giving me a cursory glance.

“I’m good too. Justin learned not to throw food at me in bed this morning.” Clay added.

“Justin don’t throw food at your brother. It’s rude.” I told him, shaking my head.

“Or keep doing it so we can give Clay a hard time about it, your choice.” Alex laughed. We carried on for a while, my friends bringing a smile and some light to what had started as a very gloomy day. The light shifted again when Scott approached our table.

“Addison, can we talk for a minute?”

“About?” I asked casually, as I dipped my cucumber in salsa.

“Why Monty is eating fruit snacks, fruit snacks, and sadness for lunch?”

“I had a meeting this morning.”

“Okay. What about the fact that he said you told him not to come home tonight?” he implored. My friends froze.

“Yes.” I stated.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to discuss it with you. It’s our business.”

“Addy. He’s my best friend and he is upset. It is my business.”

“What happened Addison?” Justin asked, reaching across the table for my hand.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I muttered, feeling like I was being backed into a corner and struggling to find my way out. I pulled my hand out of Justin’s reach. He’s the one who screwed up here. Not me. Stop making me feel like garbage for needing some space for one day. Scott shook his head, in disbelief.

“Well you’re going to have to talk to him. You’re stuck together now. Or did you forget about the whole ‘better or worse’ part of your vows?”

That got my anger going again. “I am not discussing my marriage with you Scott Reed. Especially not in a room full of people who are just counting the days until we decide we made a mistake and file for divorce. This is an issue between my husband and me. Not my husband, me, and my husband’s best friend. And never insinuate that I do not take my vows seriously again.” I whisper-yelled, standing to walk away. Justin stood up too.

“I just want to help. He’s my best friend and you’re my friend.”

“You can help by giving him a place to crash tonight.” I said, walking away.

Justin followed behind me with my bag, which I left at the table in my haste to get away from the situation. He pulled me into an empty classroom, and I felt hot, angry, sad tears fill my eyes.

“What happened Addy?”

I tried to respond but all that would come out were gasps and squeaks. Justin pulled me into his arms and embraced me while I cried in his chest. The frustration of the last thirteen hours had finally reared its head and I couldn’t stop the floodgates from opening. A knock on the door made me remember where we were, and I stepped away from my best friend. Scott opened the door a bit and poked his head in the room.

“Can we talk about this now?”

I didn’t respond but Justin waved him in the room and motioned for him to shut the door. We stared at each other for a solid three minutes before I spoke, “I told you I’m not discussing my marriage with you Scott.”

“If he is going to spend the night in my parents’ guest room, I think I deserve to know what actually happened to cause it.”

“What did he tell you?” I asked, sighing.

“That he broke the picture from your wedding last night. But you wouldn’t be this mad about a picture frame, so there has to be more to the story.”

I laughed humourlessly. “Yeah. Try ‘broke it this morning’ when he came home at 2:30 so wasted he could barely hold himself up. And couldn’t call or send me a fucking text message that he would be out late. I was up until 12:30 worrying about him, when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore.” The boys gaped at me. “Left that part out, did he?”

“Uh… yeah. He did.” Scott paused briefly. “I thought you guys talked about the occasionally overdrinking. And it was basically a non-issue now.”

“It was until last night.”

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Justin offered. “From what you’ve said I don’t think he’s an alcoholic by any means, and NA is different than AA, but the basics are the same.”

“I don’t know. I think I need to talk to him first and see if he will tell me what’s going on. This can’t become a thing.”

“A thing?” Scott asked.

“What is the one thing Monty is afraid of aside from me leaving him?”

Scott thought for a moment. “Becoming his da-. Oh. Yeah that can’t happen.”

“Exactly. So, I will talk to him tomorrow about it when he comes home. In the meantime, try to keep him occupied please? I don’t need him spiralling and making things worse.”

“I will. Might have to give him hell first though.”

“Okay. As his wife, I give you permission to do that.” He hugged me before leaving Justin and I on our own.

“Do you want me to come over tonight to keep you company? We can watch stupid movies.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I think I need to be alone to think for a while.” I hugged him, “thank you. I’ll text you or call you if I need you.”

“You’re welcome. If you need me to come over, I will. Just say the word.” I nodded as I pulled out my compact. My makeup didn’t look too bad considering I had cried. Taking out a tissue, I wiped underneath my eyes and touched up a little bit. Just as I finished, the bell rang.

Coming home to an empty house wasn’t unusual, what with Monty’s sports schedule and other things in our lives, but there was something different about this time. I told him not to be here. I didn’t want him here. He wasn’t in our home because of me. For some reason, that made the house feel a little colder and a little less like home tonight. “Well, I guess I should make myself some food or something.” I muttered into the quiet house. Working quickly, I whipped up a pita pizza and some veggies, before opening up my laptop to work on some more essays.

A few long, lonely hours later, I turned off my computer and went to change. Unconsciously, I went into Monty’s dresser and grabbed a shirt to sleep in, along with a pair of my softer pyjama bottoms. Curling up in my spot on the couch, I turned on the tv and checked my phone. Justin texted me about an hour ago, as had Scott. There was a couple of apologies from Monty that I ignored. Seemed pretty clear that I didn’t want to talk to him but sure. I swiped to open Justin’s text first.

Hey Addy. Just checking in to see how you’re doing. Do you need anything? This is me reminding you not to work on your essays for too long and not overthink too much. I love you.

Hey, I’m okay. A little lonely but I think I need it tbh. I’ll try not to think too much, but we both know how my brain works. Scott’s texts were next.

We got home safe. Mom and Dad are a little concerned about him but other than that, it’s all good. I’m still giving him hell for you.

Thanks Scott. Make sure he eats something of actual nutritional value please. Monty’s texts remained unopened.

I eventually turned my attention to the end table and the broken picture frame. Carefully picking it up, I examined it. The frame itself had broken in two places and the glass was shattered. Thankfully, the photo was still intact. “Time to dig through our stuff for a new frame.” Finding one was easy enough. They were on sale a while ago at IKEA, so we bought a bunch. Soon the picture was back in its rightful place on the table. At least one part of this mess was taken care of.

By ten thirty, I was ready to go to sleep and forget about the stress of the day. I went about the ninety-seven thousand things I do before bed as usual. I crawled into the large, cool bed and curled up in the same position I usually did, in an attempt to help myself fall asleep. It turns out, sleep wasn’t going to be easy to come by. I rolled onto my back, and then onto my side. When those positions weren’t comfortable, I rolled onto my stomach and then back to the other side. I tried turning Monty’s pillow longways so I could cuddle it. It smelled like him, which was nice, but it was too soft and didn’t move like he was breathing. I put the pillow back in its normal position and tried to stretch out. That didn’t help either. You know where he is. It’s not like he’s in danger. You can go to sleep. He is safe. Just sleep. The tossing and turning and racing thoughts went on for at least another few hours, before I decided I needed to take a sleeping pill. I had to get enough sleep, in order to deal with the argument that would most likely occur tomorrow.

I was awake at the ungodly hour of six am on a Saturday, lying in bed, trying in vain to get at least a couple more hours of sleep. By six thirty I gave up on that plan. I dragged myself out of bed and made a very large, very strong, cup of coffee. Deciding it was probably time to bite the bullet and read Monty’s various apologies, I took a deep breath and opened his messages.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I screwed up Addison.

Please don’t be mad at me. I love you.

I love you.

Please talk to me. I know I fucked up, but this silence is killing me.

Addison. Baby. Please.

I need you.

Please just tell me how to fix this?

Addy, please talk to me. I’m really fucking sorry.

Okay, Scott says if I don’t stop texting you and go to bed, he’s throwing my phone in the garbage. I love you and I’m still sorry. I couldn’t stop the urge to roll my eyes at the string of pleases. He made no mention of what he actually did. I sent him a quick text, knowing he wouldn’t answer at this hour.

We will talk at home. Tell Scott and his family thank you for letting you stay there for me. With that arduous task completed, I puttered around the house, tidying the nonexistent mess.

I was lounging on the couch, reading a book, when I heard the door unlock. I didn’t look up until I had finished my page and Montgomery cleared his throat. “Hi.” He greeted me, awkwardly.

“Hi.” We were silent for a few beats. Neither of us knew what to say to each other. I turned to look at him. He was looking around the room, anywhere but at me. I felt a small tinge of regret and pity at the uncomfortable look crossing his features. You have nothing to be sorry for. He is at fault here.

“Can you just say something so we can get this over with?”

Get this ov- seriously? “Depends. Can you act like an adult take responsibility for your actions?”

“Oh, so that’s how you want to start this?”

“I guess so, yeah.” I shrugged, standing up.

“I don’t see why you are so upset Addison-.”

“I swear to God Montgomery. If you say a word about the picture frame.”

“Scott already gave me shit for fucking up last night.”

“Oh! Okay, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you say something before? Clearly, we have nothing to discuss here, since Scott fucking Reed already talked to you about it?” I yelled, throwing my arms up for dramatic effect. “Do you even understand why I’m upset?”

“He’s my best friend. I listen to him. Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry I screwed up Addison.”

I blinked slowly at him, trying to figure out if he was being serious or not. “You listen to Scott? Because I’m almost certain it wasn’t Scott that had no issue with you getting so drunk you could hardly stand on a Thursday night.”

“Seriously Addison? You are going to bring your issues with Bryce into this?”

“I never said that. You did. But sure, since apparently you can’t take responsibility for what you did, yeah. I’m going to bring Bryce into this, Montgomery.”

“It was one night Addison.”

“This time. This time it was one night. What about next time? Or the time after that?”  

“It’s not a big deal. What are you going to do, tell me I can’t be friends with him? He’s my brother.”

“I am your WIFE. I am your family. You need to realize your actions affect more than just you now.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” He crossed his arms.

“I don’t want to tell you that you can’t. That is something you can decide on your own.”

“That’s you politely saying yes.”

“No, it isn’t. If you want to take it that way, you can. Are you ready to discuss the real issue now? I don’t put even a quarter of the blame on Bryce.”

“Mhmm. Sure, you don’t.” He muttered, aggressively.

“You decided to get wasted at a party. You decided not to let me know where you were, or if you were okay, or if you were coming home. You decided to drive home.”

“I didn’t realize you needed to know where I was at all times.”

“I don’t.”

“Really? Because it sure as shit seems like it.”

“Sorry for wanting to know if my husband was okay or not.” I yelled.

“You knew I was at Bryce’s. I was fine.”

“Fine? If you think this is fine, you need to re-evaluate that idea really fast. You could barely stand up. It’s a wonder you didn’t get pulled over or hit anything. Or anyone.”

“I didn’t. I got home in one piece and everything was fine. Until you decided to throw a hissy fit about it. And newsflash, my leg is fucked, so I can barely stand up to begin with.”

“It is not fine Monty.”

“You keep saying that but aren’t giving me a reason or explanation why.”

“You mean aside from the obvious?”

“Yeah.”

“You need to realize that it isn’t just you anymore. You need to understand that you have a family to be concerned about now. I get that it’s not something you are used to, but you do.”

He scoffed. “I understand that perfectly well Addison.”

“Do you though? Because I don’t think you do. You don’t act like you do.”

“Because I went out with my friends for a night? You are going to question my commitment to you because of one night?”

“No. I’m not questioning your commitment to me. And I have no problem with you going out with your friends. I have an issue with you coming home drunk off your ass. Again. I have an issue with the fact that you do it and then we talk about it and then you go on like everything is fine for a while. And then you do it again.”

“It’s not like I do it all the time. Don’t make it sound like I’m just coming home drunk every night.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying that this is becoming a pattern. A pattern that I, for one, am not okay with.”

Monty stared at me incredulously. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, catching sight of the replaced frame on the end table. “I see you fixed your precious photo. So, there is no reason to be mad anymore.” He muttered just loud enough for me to hear.

“Seriously? It was never about the goddamn picture frame. It was about you. Do you honestly think I would make you spend the night at your friend’s house over a picture frame breaking?”

“I don’t know Addison.”

“Well clearly we aren’t going to get anywhere today then. Since you can’t seem to accept that your actions have consequences, and I can’t force you to understand my point.” I shook my head. I couldn’t keep going around in circles with him. If he wasn’t ready to have a mature discussion about this, then there was no point in trying.

“I guess not.” He said.

There was nothing more to be said anymore, so I walked back to the coffee table from the kitchen, where we had ended up in our fighting. Grabbing my book and phone, I stalked past him, half hoping he would reach out and grab me to apologise. When he didn’t, I went back into our room and closed the door. I went to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. Instead, when I shut the door, I slid down to the floor and laid my head on my knees. My tears left little dots on my leggings and stains down my cheeks. Luckily, I was able to hold back any sobs that tried to break through.

After a while, I could hear Monty in our room. It sounded like he was opening and closing drawers. For a moment, I could hear him breathing on the other side of the door. It was like he was trying to decide to knock or not. I held my breath. A moment later, I heard his footsteps pad away from the door. Roughly an hour or so later, I decided I had hidden in my own home long enough. I stood up and splashed my face with cool water. I quickly changed into a pair of dark sweatpants and a comfortable t-shirt, with my favourite grey cardigan over top.

“I’m going out.” I stated as I walked out of our room and grabbed my purse.

“K.” Monty replied, not bothering to up from the playbook he was reading on the couch. I raised my brows sadly at his lack of response. My drive to Justin’s place was unusually silent. I normally drove with the radio on or AUX connected. I parked in front of the house and walked around back. I knocked on his door firmly a couple of times. While I waited, I unconsciously wrapped my arms around myself protectively. Justin opened the door not long after. He took one look at me trying not to cry and curling in on myself and stiffened.

“Clay, get out.”

[katrinapavela]

The Way My #TeamPetty Is Set Up... :Hopes, Dreams and Shade for Penessa and Fauxlake in 605

A/N: This post is dedicated to #TeamPetty. You know who you are. Also= Peter + Vanessa (h/t @jarmstrong05). 

It’s time for one of my favourite pastimes: shading Jake  and Fauxlake (past works cited at the end).  A few stills from #Scandal’s next episode, “They All Bow Down” (605), have emerged:

There are more, but you can find them yourself. The  photos have some in the fandom all aflutter with fantastical assumptions, about which I feel shady enough to address:

Sure, I am about to make assumptions just like they are doing (welcome to basic ass hypocrisy 101, thank you for dropping by.). But here’s where this post is different: I have facts, and not the alternative kind. 

I realized that Vanessa, Peter’s wife (his mama named him Peter; Imma call him Peter), could possibly be an unwitting helpmate in showing up Fauxlake for the farcical clown car of a dirty bathroom it has always been.  

Peter and his wife are a gift! Perhaps their ship will even serve as a foil, or mirror, for Olivia’s past behavior with lil’ Petey Hellno. Vanessa, as an outsider, can evidence the Olake nastyship for the manipulative, gaslighting, abusive, addictive behaviors it has always displayed. Vanessa doesn’t go here, but is now married to Peter, and around him and Olivia a lot. I expect that she will pick up on the fact that they used to fuck; that Jake thinks he’s in love with Olivia; that Olivia has sway over Jake in a way she, Vanessa, does not; and that Jake is crazy and violent. There have been other mirrors so far this season, but we’ve not yet honed in on the Fauxlake opportunities for reflection. Now may be our time, y’all 

Let’s think about this by using reason and facts to dismantle some common beliefs about Fauxlake’s future.

The Olake ship thrived after Liv finally left that thirsty, old man!

Is that why it “thrived” all the way to Peter marrying another woman, and with Olivia telling him, on the day of his wedding: 

“You were never an option for me. You’re an escape. Someone to toy with. You’re a yo-yo. A booty call. A sidepiece. And frankly it’s embarrassing that you still haven’t realized, after all this time, that if we were together, actually together, I would tear right through you. Destroy you.”

Is that why the Fauxlake ship “thrived” all the way to Liv throwing that tie at Jake as he realized he was her bitch now (521)?

Is all that “thriving” why we heard Liv refer to Jake as her father’s son (521)? Nothing says “thriving” like pseudo incest with a man you know to be married to another woman!

Olivia is gonna fight for Jake now! Vanessa will make her realize how much she wants him 

First of all…

But most importantly, Olivia is supposed to “fight” Peter’s wife for the man to whom she literally said, on his wedding day, as one of her last words to him as a single man: “go marry Vanessa” (518). So, after Olivia expressed the pain and shame (502, 505) she felt from actually loving a man who was married (Fitz), y’all want her to engage in similar behavior for a man she does not even love? After y’all called her stupid for doing it with Fitz?

Basura, the lot of you. 

Forget the love argument, since some of y’all believe in opposite day (”Olivia doesn’t have to say she loves Jake for us to know it’s true” -_-). Let’s try stacking up the facts and deducing the likely outcome. Mmmkay? Olivia basically told Jake to stuff his delusions of a mediocre future on the night of Republican National Convention (521)

That same night (via flashback), we see Olivia tell Mellie (The would-be President to Peter’s Vice President) “we don’t have time” for you to mess around with Marcus, as it could derail their path to the presidency (602). If Olivia would coral Jake onto her struggle ticket, because she’s desperate to win, then why the fuck would she endanger that by having an affair with Vanessa’s husband, the vice presidential candidate?

Olivia is so thirsty for the Oval, that she set up a man based on the the thinnest sliver of evidence (602-603), just for the opportunity to flex on the presidential seal. But an affair with Chilli Pepper dick is totes realistic amidst all of this. 

Do I think it was straight shooting after Liv threw that tie at Jake? No. I feel like I know Shonda better than that. But “thriving” affair? Nah. 

Olivia and Jake will ultimately prevail because their relationship is actually reciprocal. 

A “reciprocal” relationship in which only one person knows the other person’s real name. A “reciprocal “relationship in which one person never told the other one that they were married at one time (technically still married until 506). A “reciprocal” relationship in which one person was on an island with another person–alone–and never shared that they wore a ring given to them by the love of their life”.

Because whatever it is has nothing to do with making sense. I’m not even including all the gas lighting, and the lies–past and recent–because I’ve documented those. Lies like the one Peteroni told Liv regarding why Vanessa was his mark for marriage (514). Shall we revisit the Book of Nope  once again? Let’s:

“I’m not scared. I may be horrible because I’m abandoning you, because I always abandon you. But I’m not scared. Not the least bit. You’re wrong. And pathetic. I could tell you five minutes from now that I want to be with you, that I want to save you. You would crawl back to me. Forgive me. Every single time” (Olivia, 518). 

Let’s follow that up with Peter crawling right back into Olivia’s lair, to be used for her purpose on the campaign (521). Literally, Petey's folks try to act like Olivia didn’t mean what she said in that meanologue because she apologized to Jake for being so savage. You can spit the truth but regret the pain caused to the other person. I didn't see a script in Olivia's hand, yet she knew exactly what daggers to throw.

Where is all this reciprocity and mutual love?

Rowan is literally the only reason why Olivia and Jake can’t be happy in love!

When Olivia had Rowan safely behind bars, did he make Olivia dump Jake and run to go be with Fitz (422)? The opposite has never been true. Not even in 5B. Olivia has never left Fitz in order to be with Jake. Again, the Book of Oop:

“I can’t be with you! It’s not even just that I can’t. I don’t want to. …If I couldn’t make it work with [Fitz], why the hell would you think I could make it work with you?” (Olivia, 518)

Rowan certainly wasn’t the one who made Liv deny Jake after he got married, and Liv "saved" him from Rowan (521). So, y’all can pretend that Olivia hasn’t been making deliberate choices to have Jake, strategically, in her life and for her own goals. But he evidence is clear, sis. Rowan is not the one standing in the way of Olake, Olivia is:

“You’re not good enough for me. You’re weak. You need me too much. Need me to tell you what to do and how to feel and…You were never an option for me. You’re an escape. Someone to toy with. You’re a yo-yo. A booty call. A sidepiece.” (Olivia, 518). 

And if you still want Olivia to pursue this unsuitable boy, then you just don’t love her. Deadass. 

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