#cheap attorney for divorce

[bradnance]

How a Child Support Law Firm in Dallas Can Help You Navigate Complex Cases

Introduction

Navigating child support cases can be a challenging and emotionally taxing experience, especially when the stakes are high for both parents and children. In Dallas, many individuals facing complex child support issues turn to a child support law firm for guidance, legal expertise, and support in securing the most favorable outcomes. These firms, staffed by seasoned child support attorneys in Dallas, provide crucial assistance to clients, ensuring that their rights and the best interests of their children are protected throughout the legal process.

Understanding Child Support in Dallas

Child support is a legal obligation imposed on parents to provide financial support for their children following a separation or divorce. The purpose of child support is to ensure that both parents contribute to their child’s well-being, covering essential needs such as food, clothing, education, and healthcare. However, child support cases can become complicated when there are disputes over income, custody arrangements, or even the accuracy of financial disclosures. This is where the expertise of a child support law firm in Dallas becomes invaluable.

Expertise in Complex Child Support Cases

In Dallas, child support cases can involve a wide range of complexities. For example, a parent may dispute the amount of child support calculated based on their income, or one parent might believe that the other is hiding assets or underreporting their income. Furthermore, child support cases may involve modifications to existing arrangements when there has been a significant change in circumstances, such as job loss, remarriage, or relocation.

A child support law firm in Dallas specializes in navigating these challenging scenarios. With deep knowledge of Texas family law, these firms help clients understand their rights and obligations under the law. Their role often includes assisting clients in gathering the necessary documentation to establish their financial standing or challenging an unfair child support order. Moreover, child support attorneys are well-versed in the rules regarding modification of child support and can represent clients seeking changes to existing agreements.

Proactive Representation and Legal Strategy

The experience and reputation of a child support law firm in Dallas often play a significant role in securing favorable outcomes for their clients. Many firms focus on achieving the best possible results, even before formal charges or legal proceedings begin. The ability to negotiate with opposing parties and the District Attorney’s office is a key advantage these firms bring to the table. Having handled numerous cases, child support attorneys are familiar with the local legal system, its key players, and how to strategically position their clients for success.

One of the strategies that a child support attorney in Dallas may employ is the proactive gathering of evidence. Whether this means collecting witness statements that support a client’s case or identifying discrepancies in the other party’s financial disclosures, thorough preparation is critical. This comprehensive approach to building a case can often lead to more favorable outcomes, such as reduced financial obligations or even a dismissal of claims. By preparing diligently for trial, attorneys also ensure that their clients are well-positioned to fight back against unfair accusations or legal strategies from the opposing side.

Negotiating Favorable Settlements

In many child support cases, the goal is not always to go to trial but to negotiate a settlement that both parties can agree upon. Child support attorneys in Dallas are skilled negotiators, leveraging their knowledge of local laws and experience with past cases to advocate for their clients. They may work to negotiate a lower child support payment or alternative payment methods that better suit their client’s financial situation. The strong working relationships that many attorneys have with local courts and district attorneys enable them to secure better deals for their clients compared to those who lack such experience.

These negotiations often involve gathering key financial documents, ensuring that income is accurately reported, and uncovering any hidden assets that may influence the support calculation. Additionally, attorneys can help their clients seek alternative solutions, such as shared custody arrangements that reduce child support obligations or strategies for reducing the length of time payments are required.

Reducing Legal Consequences

When the other side has a stronger case, child support attorneys in Dallas work tirelessly to minimize the consequences for their clients. In some instances, they may seek to suppress evidence that could harm their client’s case or challenge the validity of the opposing party’s claims. Other times, the strategy may involve seeking alternative solutions to harsh penalties. For example, a child support law firm may explore options like community service, probation, or house arrest as alternatives to harsher consequences if the case involves issues of non-payment or enforcement.

By staying ahead of potential legal hurdles, these attorneys strive to protect their clients from unnecessary financial burdens or legal penalties. The dedication to minimizing the consequences in challenging situations is a hallmark of experienced child support law firms, and this dedication often leads to favorable outcomes for their clients.

Conclusion

Navigating the complexities of child support cases in Dallas requires expert legal representation from a qualified child support law firm in Dallas. From proactive representation and evidence gathering to negotiating favorable settlements and reducing legal consequences, child support attorneys in Dallas are well-equipped to handle even the most complex cases. Whether you are dealing with disputes over support amounts, seeking a modification to an existing agreement, or facing enforcement actions, having the right legal team by your side can make all the difference. By leveraging their expertise and experience, these attorneys help their clients achieve the best possible outcomes while protecting their financial future and their relationship with their children.

[uncontesteddocuments]

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[alwaysshallow]

divorced simon...... or still in the court, your husband (almost ex) that doesn't want to let you go.

not only because he loves you (and in his mind, it should be clear; no matter if he says it or not) but because he owns you. he said "till death do us part" and as a person who almost died, multiple ways, it has a meaning to him.

it means that no matter what, you're gonna be here. and he's gonna be here too—crawling to you from the deepest, darkest depths of hell just to lay in the same bed as you, in his home, and you’re gonna be in his arms.

simon’s always been possessive, not only when you two got married, but when you two were dating too, so that’s not a surprise he doesn’t let go things easily. he gives your attorney dirty looks, provoking him whenever he feels like it, checking if he doesn’t have funny business with you. if he’s only your attorney. 

it’s only right that he got himself one; the best he probably could find here, a shark who definitely wants too much money, but simon ain’t gonna go cheap on you. if it means he’ll get you back—this way or another, but he prefers to do it in a civilized way—he’s gonna spend every penny chasing you.

and it feels pretty good after a few months of battling in court. your pissed glances at him only get him worked up more, and the two of you can feel exactly like when you were just fresh into your relationship. 

you’re not really one for the arguments, never were—his good girl knows better than that, knows how to talk to him rather than argue. an art he didn’t learn even to this day—so it’s not a surprise he eventually corners you in the women’s bathroom. locks the door so your mother or anyone else won’t interrupt you two. 

“what are you—”

“—sssh.” it’s probably the first situation in months that only the two of you are alone. completely alone. without all of the judges, attorneys, and family. it’s no surprise he wants to talk to you in private, but you know exactly why you avoided him.

his brown eyes; hands, full of scars, full of blood of his enemies, caressing your waist and his body that press against you when he wants something badly. just like it does right now, when he whispers something to your ear, and you’re not sure what because you can only focus on his cock pressing against your ass.

“—so, let’s go home.”

“it’s my house, simon,” you try to reason with him, clearing your throat out of all the saliva that’s been building up. “the court—”

“—built it with our money, with my own fuckin’ hands, ‘m not gonna listen to some guy that knows better.” his hand travels down, right under your skirt. “my favourite color, and you expect me to just watch you?”

yeah. yeah, maybe it was a moment of weakness, maybe longing, but when you leave the bathroom with disheveled hair, a wolfish grin on simon’s lips, you know you’re fucked with the divorce.

quite literally.

[affordabledivorcemediation]

How To Find The Best Divorce Lawyers: A Step By Step Guide

It might be difficult to deal with the possibility of being separated from your spouse. You initially feel completely alone and unsure of what to do. The divorce legal process is not well-known to everyone. A good family or divorce lawyer might make the process more quicker and less expensive. To locate the Affordable Divorce Attorney for you, follow these steps.

Know Your Legal Needs:-

First, be aware that divorce is a legal procedure to end a marriage, and that it has an impact on your assets and parental obligations. You will be represented in this situation by your Affordable attorneys. They will listen, for sure, but it won’t change how they help you.

Focus On The Objective:-

You want to be legally divorced from your husband, which is why you are seeking for a divorce attorney. Your emotions can easily sway you, but resist allowing them to take over. If you do, your divorce will simply be more drawn out and difficult. This time, pay attention to your aim. Get a reputable attorney.

Possess a list of choices:-

Divorce attorneys vary widely. Consequently, before making a choice, speak with at least three divorce attorneys. What you require is Massachusetts Divorce Attorneys with experience in the kind of divorce you are going through. You need a lawyer who is knowledgeable about the procedure, effectively represents you in communications and negotiations, and is acquainted with the local court system.

Beware of warning signs:-

Unfortunately, some lawyers only practise law to make money. There are many of them who will say anything you want to hear. Recognize the warning signs. Don’t choose a lawyer who braggingly mentions their well-known clients or who readily divulges client information. Keep in mind that people won’t respect you if they don’t respect others.

Choose at least three lawyers to speak with:-

You may choose Massachusetts Divorce Attorneys you come across or you might do your hardest to locate the greatest legal available. If you are looking for a divorce attorney or an experienced attorney, the correct lawyer may be the last one you find in your search or the first one you come across. People frequently research various lawyers along the road. It’s crucial to have the ideal divorce lawyer if you’re trying to figure out how to get through the proper divorce procedure.

Conclusion:-

Always keep in mind that your cheap divorce lawyers in Western MA ought to be capable and informed while also paying attention and speaking clearly. The best option is to hire a local divorce attorney. They sympathise with your situation, respect your kids, and put their needs first, just as you would.

[seat-safety-switch]

You've probably not heard of the Stockholm Divorce. It's a new thing, only innovated in the last couple years. Conventional court-based divorces are messy, expensive affairs, where both parties often attempt to cause the maximum amount of damage to each other. Things don't have to be this way, and the next generation of divorce attorneys has found a better method.

Initiating the Stockholm Divorce is simple, and it should be obvious once it's been explained. Ninety-five percent of marriages start to suffer serious problems after a trip to Ikea. The reason why is simple. Assembling cheap, particle-board furniture with your spouse is bound to drive a wedge into any slight schism or disagreement you may have with them. Many successful couples simply just don't do it together, breeding resentment when it turns out that the "handy" dude you married just operates a Dodge Ram and doesn't actually own a screwdriver.

Where the genius of this divorce comes is that it starts one step earlier, well before the Ikea assembly causes a cascade of emotional chaos. Ikea's stores are notoriously maze-like, so what you can do is take your partner to a corner of the store, tell them you're going to go grab something and will be "right back," then just walk out and get in the car. You'll be back to singles life immediately, and your formerly-significant other will be stuck wandering the store for all eternity, wondering if you did in fact leave them behind or just are also looking for them at the same time, maybe in rugs or lighting or something. Don't worry, they won't starve. There's a restaurant.

Is it cruel? Somewhat, but like in many other cases, the cruelty is offset by novelty. Already, Ikeas across this great nation are filling up with divorced folks, which means it's a good place to go to meet new folks. And it's been fantastic for the stockholders: a new study shows that for every 15 minutes someone is forced to wander the store, wondering if they will ever see the face of their loved ones again, they buy approximately $17 in goods. This new mechanism has been so profitable, in fact, that the corporate bigwigs have decided that all the stores will now be open 24 hours a day, so as to encourage more frenzied, anxiety-laden purchasing as the customers gradually come to terms with the end of their relationship.

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 2

Summary: The truth comes out

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  language, mentions of cheating, mention of fertility issues, depictions of depression, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Your leg bounces up and down when you look at your phone. You are late. And knowing Scott, he’s going to use this against you. You rarely went out. But this…

You look down at your clothes. His clothes. What else were you supposed to do but grab his button up, and some sweats. It still smelled like him, and you’re swooning. You can still feel him in your body. On your body. He didn’t just fuck you, he made sure to implant his entire soul in you, and it leaves you longing for more. Things with Andy have always been good enough for one time.

It was beautiful, and perfect, and just like how you would imagine seeing him again. But you can’t want him. Your life is a mess, and you can’t bring him into it. You give a nod to the Uber driver as you get out of the vehicle. Your heeled shoes oddly matched with his clothes, and make too much noise as you walk up the front steps.

Walking into the house, you’re met with Scott glaring at you. You don’t answer. You want to see your babies. But he makes a show out of looking at his watch. “You’re over an hour late.”

“Sorry, I ruined your Sunday morning, Scott.”

“And what the hell are you wearing?” His hand gestures down your body, and you feel your cheeks flare up in anger more than embarrassment. Like he had any room to talk. He smirks. Reaching across the counter to slide your wallet towards you. “The District Attorney dropped this off for you. Guess I know whose clothes you’re wearing. My god. How can you be so fucking stupid?”

“I’m stupid? How’s Taylor? Your twenty-three year old fiancé? She’s just waiting for the damn divorce to be finalized, huh?” He hates when you bring up the engagement, or her age. Hell, everyone could tell she was young. Most thought she was younger than twenty-three.

Scott takes a deep breath. His fingers tap on the counter. “If you give us the house, I won’t fight you for full custody.”

Your eyes immediately well with furious tears as you stare at the man that you loved so much. You gave up everything to give him the family and home he wanted. The only thing you couldn’t give him anymore was children. Taylor could. He made sure of it. Plus her boobs weren’t droopy from breastfeeding. Her hips weren’t wider from bearing children. Her hair wasn’t thinner because you gave to your babies.

“Why are you always crying? My god, we’ve been over this. You’re getting alimony. Why do you need this house?”

“Why do you?” you counter immediately.

He sighs, shaking his head, “Because we’re going to have a family. You’re — not.”

“You son of a bitch. You're bargaining my kids for this ugly house? You think you have a leg to stand on for full custody?” This is the thing that infuriates you most about Scott. He was a good father, but now that the veil has been removed, you see that his children were more of a show for him. Something to talk about at meetings. Brag about when Audrey got into the best Pre-K in the city. Not because he actually enjoyed them. That was you.

“I have a career. You have…”

“I was your wife, and their mom, nurse, teacher, friend, entertainment, cook, maid,” you would do it all again to spend time with them. Them. It pains you knowing that Suede is at a center, when with Audrey you spent every waking minute with her.

“Yeah, I get it. You did all that for me, but that still doesn’t mean anything. I paid for this house. I’m the one that makes the money.”

“Get out,” you answer blankly. Don’t argue with him outside of the courtroom. That’s what your cheap lawyer told you. Don’t give him ammunition to take your children away. He wanted you to stay at home. He wanted you to not use your college degree. He wanted you to give everything for the family.

“We’re not finished. I am trying to negotiate things with you. Especially since you’re running around sleeping with the DA. You think that’s going to actually help your case? Seriously?” Of all the things to say, this was the worst. To think he thought so little of you that you would sleep with someone that could leverage the case. He’s an ass. But he also knows about your Andy. Too bad, he didn’t realize they were the same person.

“Andy is not just the DA,” Scott looks over your features, and your mouth turns up into a smile. Is he really lecturing you about sleeping around? At least you chose someone that was more than a tight body and big tits. You chose someone you loved, could see a future with. And you were pushing him away, “Andy is an old friend.”

“You bitch,” you shrug, starting to walk backwards towards your children who should be taking a nap. “Are you fucking kidding me. That’s — you — don’t tell me you fucked him so…”

“Mommy!” You shoot him a glare as Audrey comes running down the hallway. Jumping into your arms, and you hug her so tightly. “You smell nice,” you hope Scott hears her. You weren’t into playing games where your children are concerned, but you hope he feels even a tiny prick of the pain you felt when you found him fucking Taylor in your bed. “Me and Suedey missed you.”

“I missed you, too, baby. You want to go get Suede, so you guys can tell daddy, bye?” She furrows her brows, while she looks at you confused. “Baby what is it?”

“It’s nothing. Audrey, go get Suede,” he gives her a little wink, and you place her back on the floor, and turn to look at him. “It’s nothing.”

“If that woman was in my house again, so help me God, Scott,” it’s the one thing you hated. Her being here. Of course you didn’t want them at her apartment either, and neither did Taylor. It was too small and they caused a mess, which is why overnight stays with their dad were few and far between.

“She doesn’t like being alone.”

“And the agreement was for her to not be in my dwellings. This is my dwelling.”

“And it should be ours! You don’t even want it. You hate it here. You’re just doing this because you don’t want Taylor and I to have it.”

“I’m doing this? Who is the one that said you won’t go for full custody if I give you the house? Taylor put you up to that?” Scott stops his retort as a swollen eyed Suede comes waddling into the room, and you lift him up. “Why is he snotty? I was gone one night, why is he snotty?” You hate being that mom, but with Suede, you have to be careful.

“He petted Trixie,” you look up at Scott dumbfounded. “It was just for a little bit and then…”

“Audrey,” Scott warns, and you want to throw things at him, and scream. She did nothing wrong. She is the child, and he is the adult. “Come give me a hug. I need to finish talking to your mom," you let your chubby toddler waddle off to his daddy. And Audrey gives you a lingering look before grabbing her brother’s hand. Apologizing as she drags him to the play room.

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“He’s allergic to cats.”

“I gave him a Benadryl. He’ll be fine.”

You hate him. It isn’t much to ask for Taylor not to be here. And for her not to bring her fucking cat. “And what happens if she feeds him something with eggs?” Scott looks at the counter, and you wonder if he ever regrets getting involved with her. He’s the type of man that will force something to work. Because you didn’t stand for cheating, so he didn’t have another option.

“What happens if she gives him walnuts? Or milk? Or…?”

“Or gives him shell fish? Or strawberries? Or pineapples? Or whatever made up bullshit you have for him. She’s a kid and doesn’t know how bad his allergies are.”

You stare at him, and let him think about his fucking words. Seething because he sure knows how to piss you off. This was a good day. You stared at Andy’s sleeping body for too long before you tiptoed around his bedroom. Having sex so many times exhausted him now. “You’re right, she’s a kid. And had no business being with you. But our son’s health is not made up. I held his body when the nurse pricked his skin forty times, and he was wailing in my arms, and not understanding why his mommy was forcing him to do this. Don’t tell me it’s fucking made up Scott. Get out.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Get out. Leave. I can’t even look at you. This isn’t the you I married. You would never put our children’s health at risk,” he continues to stand there. Opening his mouth a bit, but you’re tired. You’re sore. And all you want is to play with your children. “I don’t need you to ask me if I’m going to use this against you. Yes, when it comes to my children’s lives and their safety, you’re damn straight I will make sure my children are alive to see another day, and not because some tramp thinks Seude’s allergies aren’t that fucking serious. Get. Out.”

He bites his lip before spinning on his heels quickly. You watch him walk out of your house, and life again. Sniffling when you lock the door. You take a few deep breaths before you have to put on your mommy shoes. It isn’t easy being a mother. Especially a single mother. It’s not easy seeing the man that you built a life with walk away so callously. To see him building a life with someone younger. Someone who can give him what he wants.

Someone who didn’t spend months and months on fertility treatments that made her feel like her skin was crawling. Like her mind was shattered. Having to schedule sex, and hope and pray that it will work. All the useless damn pregnancy tests that were always negative. Stressed, and trying to be what he wanted, only to find him fucking the babysitter, while your children slept in the next room. And it was your fault you caught them, you got back home early.

Scott didn’t even begin to understand stress. He could never understand the ups and downs your mental state went through just trying to give him what he wanted. You had Audrey and Suede. One of each, you weren’t greedy. But everything you ever did was always for him. Put on a smile when you’re hurting so bad internally. Smiling to the neighbors because everything was perfect. And you had a perfect home, and inside you were screaming because that wasn’t happiness.

The only happiness you currently have is your kids. They’re enough. They’re the reason you wake up every morning, and take them to the nursery school. They’re the reason that you get excited that Audrey wears a little uniform now that she’s in Pre-K. They put a smile on your face everyday. And those hard days when they test your every patience, and you are the one that has to be the positive one and get them in the bed, but who takes care of you?

You wanted a family and a partner. Someone that would team up with you, and take some of this load off. Someone that could entertain the kids, while you had one hour to yourself, just so you can take a bath and read. You wanted someone you could trust to be around your kids, and you’re wondering where things went wrong with Scott. Yeah, you’re sure he was stressed, but what about your stress? You’re the one who didn’t even enjoy sex anymore because it was a chore. And you did it for him.

Gods, Andy wasn’t a chore. Minus the ache in your core, that you know is going to be there for awhile. Bruised, raw, stiff, sore, and stretched. He fucked you, and fucked you so hard and deep. But then — later in the night, he kissed you. He kissed you so hard that your body prepared for him in seconds. You craved him. But he didn’t fuck you. He pushed into your warmth so slow that you knew he was making sure your body memorized him. That wasn’t fucking. That was claiming. It was euphoric. It was making love, and hoping that his body can make you change your mind. He still wants you.

That is what you want with sex. Not to just lay there, and let them take what you want, while you count the cobwebs on the ceiling. But Andy didn’t deserve whatever is going on between you and Scott. Andy deserves the world. He always has.

It isn’t anything, really. Just the average separation, and fighting for custody that Scott didn’t deserve. But you want to be divorced. You want these conversations to be done with. You want him to man up, and just be the part time dad. It’s what he was anyways. But you made it clear that Andy had you for one night. And even now saying it out loud, you hate yourself. But it’s the right thing to do. Because had Andy been present for this, his usual calm and collected demeanor would have been tested.

“What are you two doing?” You jump around the door, and both kids squeal. Suede gives a few strides before he’s crashing into your legs. “Bubba, I think you’re going to have to get your nose cleaned out at bathtime.”

“Nope. Me pay Sis,” he hates getting his nose cleaned out, and you hate that he has done it enough to know what you’re talking about.

“Mommy, I didn’t mean to get daddy in trouble.”

“Shh,” you sit on the floor, and pull her close to you. Kissing on top of her head, and she fumbles around with her little figurines. “The important thing is you told mommy that Suede was around something that can make him sick. That’s called being a good big sister, okay?”

“You promise?”

“I do,” and you curse Scott for making her worry about a grown man. It was something Scott wouldn’t have told you. Bending the truth because Suede was fine. Audrey, your strong sweet girl, knew it was wrong, and knew it could make her brother sick.

“Can we go to soft play tonight?” You look at her confused. Scott said that he was going to take them there with Taylor. Since she was supposed to be here. “Daddy said that they were closed. Do you think they’re closed today?”

“No, baby. They’re not today,” you always had to go with Scott’s lies. Taylor never wanted to do ‘baby things’. You wondered how that was going to work when she had children of her own. “You think mommy can take a shower with the door open and you and Suede not get into trouble?”

“Can we get ice cream, too?” She gives you a devilish grin, and you nod your head with a smile. “Are you going to use your bathroom?”

“No, I’ll use yours. That way I can still hear you, if you need me,” Audrey isn’t dumb. She knows you’re lying. In reality you couldn’t use yours and Scott’s bathroom anymore. It had the beautiful tub that was part of the reason you and him decided on this house. You couldn’t even sleep in your bed. Not after they defiled it.

You knew that was the real reason, and still you made excuses as to why you slept on the couch. Your favorite was to make sure nobody came through the front door. Whatever lie helped you sleep at night. Maybe you should just give Scott the house. But it’s the principle of the matter that he used your children as leverage. You want him to pay, and you want him to be their father, you want them to have a good relationship with him and Taylor, and you want things to not be so fucking difficult. You never get what you want.

You remember the most beautiful parts of your marriage. Audrey in a world of her own, while Suede goes from watching her to rolling his cars around. They were your sanity. Your saving grace, and the only reasons you’ve survived thus far. Your thumb trails over your naked ring finger. You didn’t realize you would miss it so much. But was it the ring you missed or the husband you had? You can’t even think of Scott in the same way as before. He sullied your relationship and has proven too often that Taylor is more important than your everything’s.

“So,” Sloane says as Andy walks past you and into Ransom’s office. You didn’t question why Andy needs to meet with him. It goes with the territory and the less you know the better off you are. “Big dick daddy doesn’t pay you any mind anymore?”

You choke on your coffee as you glance up at her. How the hell would she know about Andy’s dick or your involvement? “I mean, the man prances around the courthouse like he’s got a dick made out of lead. Acts like he owns the whole court system. And for a while, he always made a point to ask you for coffee, or dinner, or brought you pastries. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” you go back to your work. Sloane could be a nosy woman. Always digging for more information. And even now, she’s eyeing you like you’ve done something wrong.

“You when I think that things changed?”

“Nope,” you sigh, but she sure is going to tell you. Andy respected your wishes for just one night. But you hoped that he wouldn’t. And you know you’re acting silly. There was this part that is bigger than you really want to admit that hoped he wouldn’t give up on you. Because maybe once things are settled with Scott you might consider it.

“It might have something to do with his celebration of another year as District Attorney, and the two of you not so casually leave together. You kinda forgot your car here,” your fingers freeze, and you look up at her curiously. “You two left out the door together, and your car was here? Seriously?”

“I had a flat tire.”

“No, you didn’t,” there isn’t another way you can lie, so you just sit at your desk, staring at her. “So how was it? I’m assuming that you had sex. You’ve got kids, you’re not a virgin. So why not? Is he as big as people think?”

“People talk about his dick size?”

“Not just talk about his dick size, but have tried to break his impenetrable force field of his private life. And you come in here, and everyone is envious because he immediately showed interest in you. Why?” Her eyebrow cocks up, and she smiles. “Keep your secrets. Cause I know you fucked him, and I know now that he barely even looks at you. So either you told him how it was going to be, or…”

Her voice trails off as she walks away from your desk, “Or what?” That sounds ominous, and you didn’t want an or. You want to know that Andy doesn’t hate you. But what could make him hate you that much? The only thing would be, “Scott…”

—

“Stop moping,” Ransom rolls his eyes, but Andy is so far lost in thought it annoys Ransom. “You’ve been like this for a couple of weeks,” Andy ignores Ransom, stirring his coffee. “What’s wrong, your highness?”

“Your office manager.”

“Was the sex that bad?” Andy looks up at him confused. Scrunching up his brows, while he wonders when Ransom thinks he had sex with you. “You two weren’t subtle. She was all giggly, and you were dragging her out the door. Liquid courage I guess. Not to mention, Sloane said that her car was here once everyone left. Office hookups are severely frowned upon, but you needed laid. But I guess…it was bad.”

Andy shakes his head no. “And we had agreed on sex while she was sober,” you were sober. And cute. And flirty. And Andy was not going to miss an opportunity. Until he found out you are married.

“How romantic. Now, since the sex was good, let’s get to work.”

“She told me that I could only have her one night. We have a bit of a history, you see,” Ransom rolls his eyes, twirling his hand and motioning Andy to speed up the conversation. He didn’t care what kind of history you had. He just wants the conversation to end so he can get down to business. “She’s married.”

Ransom shakes his head no, and leans to reach in a bottom drawer of his desk. Grabbing up a file folder, he drops it on the desk in front of Andy, and he pulls it towards him. Opening up the folder, he reads through it, and looks at Ransom, holding his breath. “Yeah, that’s a petition for full custody of her kids from her wonderful estranged husband, Scott Huffman. Her working here wasn’t just because she needed a job. She actually went to college to be…”

“A CPA. I’m aware. We have a history.”

“And didn’t know about her legal separation?” Ransom is annoyed. Ransom hates getting off track. There is a schedule, and Andy isn’t sticking to it. “Her lawyer is one of the cheapest ones. She needs new representation, and for some godforsaken reason, I pity her. Scott doesn’t need his kids full time. He’s got him some blonde that’s too young for him, but he’s got the money. She was a stay at home mom, and she deserves her kids, so I’m trying to make that happen. And no, you cannot intervene. You actually met him didn’t you? Scott?”

“I’ve met him in court a few times.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Don’t get involved. She’s not married. Well, she’s legally separated. So if that’s what the issue is, get over it,” Ransom is sometimes way to blunt, but it’s the reason Andy admires him. His pension for being a spoiled brat helped him be a better ADA. “That fucker is still calling her his wife isn’t he?”

“Yeah. Men like him love to show that they still own her. Using her kids against her, no doubt. But,” Andy holds his hands up in surrender. He knows Ransom can see right through him concerning this situation. “I won’t interfere.”

“Was her pussy that good?”

“It was always that good, but it was never about the sex,” he meets his eyes before he closes the folder, and extends it to Ransom. He misjudged the situation. And then he probably has been making you feel like a wet hole by ignoring you these past couple of weeks. “God, I'm an idiot.”

”Yeah, now if you can stop ignoring her, and go back to your obvious shameless flirting. It sounds like the two of you, if you want a future, need to fucking talk. Just like we’re supposed to be doing.”

Ransom is right. About a lot of things. He pushes the urgent need to talk to you aside. He wants to apologize for ignoring you, and even the horrible things he thought. He wants to understand what really happened in your marriage, if you want to talk. He wants to let you know that you have a friend in him. Not just a sexual need. He cares about you. And knowing that a ruthless man is trying to get full custody of your children, sickens him. Scott worked too many hours to ever need those children.

But mostly, he wants to know the new you. The one you kept hidden, and the one that grew up and created a new life. He wants to know that you are okay. And that you have someone with a steady head to lean on. He wants you. He always has. And he’ll be whatever you need. If you’ll let him.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

[starlitmelanin]

ink on paper I trent alexander-arnold

pairing - husband!trent × wife!reader

word count - 1.1k

warnings - none

summary - you never truly wanted a divorce, but stupid words led you to sitting in an attorney's office.

it had been raining that morning.

you remember because you had watched the droplets race down the window as you sat at the breakfast table, the cold silence between you and trent almost palpable.

the coffee tasted bitter, but you weren't sure if it was because of the cheap teabag or the resentment brewing between you two.

things hadn't always been this way. there was a time when every touch, every glance, was filled with warmth and affection. you still remember the first time he looked at you, really looked at you, with those intense eyes of his. it was at a mutual friend's party, and you had laughed at some silly joke, and there he was, across the room, grinning at you like you were the only person there.

it was intoxicating.

but life had a way of getting complicated. trent's career demanded so much of him, and while you tried to be understanding, there were moments when the loneliness became too much to bear. late nights turned into arguments, arguments into shouting matches, and before you knew it, you were standing in the middle of the kitchen, throwing hurtful words at each other like knives.

that morning had been the final straw.

he had come home late, again, and you had stayed up waiting, again. when he walked in, you had tried to keep calm, to talk it out like adults. but the exhaustion in his eyes and the frustration in yours sparked something ugly. words were exchanged, things that couldn't be taken back.

"maybe we should just call it quits," you had shouted, your voice breaking.

"maybe we should," he had replied, and the silence that followed was deafening.

now, as you sit across from him in the attorney's office, you can't help but feel a pang of regret. trent is looking at the floor, his jaw clenched, and you can tell he's trying to keep it together. this isn't what either of you wanted. it's just what it had come to.

the lawyer is droning on about the division of assets, but you can barely focus. all you can think about is the first time you and trent had walked through the door of your house, newlyweds with stars in your eyes. you remember the way he had picked you up and carried you over the threshold, both of you laughing like fools.

it seemed like a lifetime ago.

"do you understand the terms as we've discussed?" the lawyer asks, pulling you out of your reverie.

you nod, but your mind is elsewhere.

it's on the countless nights you spent waiting for him to come home, the missed calls, the arguments. but it's also on the nights he held you close, whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and promised forever.

"y/n," trent's voice breaks through the haze. he's looking at you now, really looking at you, and for a moment, it feels like it did back then. "are you sure this is what you want?"

you open your mouth to speak, but the words catch in your throat. you had been so certain when you made the decision, so sure that it was the only way to stop the pain. but now, sitting here, you aren't sure of anything.

"i don't know," you finally whisper, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "i just... i don't know."

trent's expression softens, and for a moment, you think he might reach across the table and pull you into his arms. but he doesn't. he stays where he is, a safe distance away, just like the past few months.

the lawyer clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the emotional display. "perhaps we should take a break," he suggests, shuffling his papers awkwardly.

you nod, grateful for the respite. you stand up, your legs feeling unsteady, and make your way to the restroom. once inside, you lean against the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. you look tired, worn out. this whole ordeal has taken its toll on you.

as you splash some water on your face, you think about all the things you wish you could say to trent. how you miss him, how you never wanted things to end up like this. how you still love him, despite everything.

when you return to the conference room, trent is standing by the window, looking out at the rain-soaked streets. he turns when he hears you come in, and there's a sadness in his eyes that mirrors your own.

"do you remember our first date?" he asks quietly, as you take your seat.

you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. "of course. you took me to that little italian restaurant on the corner. we laughed so much that night."

trent chuckles, but it's a hollow sound. "i thought i was going to screw it up. i was so nervous.”

"you were perfect," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

the room falls silent again, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you. the lawyer re-enters, looking between the two of you with a mixture of sympathy and professionalism.

"shall we continue?" he asks, but you can tell he's hoping you'll call the whole thing off.

you glance at trent, searching his face for any sign that he wants to fight for this, for you. but all you see is the same weariness you feel.

"let's get this over with," trent says, his voice flat.

and just like that, the moment is gone.

you sign the papers, your hand shaking slightly, and when it's trent's turn, he does the same. it feels surreal, like you're watching someone else's life fall apart.

as you leave the office, the rain has stopped, leaving the streets glistening under the afternoon sun. you walk in silence, side by side but miles apart. when you reach your car, you turn to trent one last time.

"i’m sorry," you say, and you mean it with every fibre of your being.

trent nods, his eyes filled with a sorrow that breaks your heart all over again. "me too.”

you want to reach out, to hold him, to take back every hurtful word you ever said. but you don't. instead, you get into your car and drive away, leaving behind the man you still love and a life that could have been.

sometimes, love isn't enough to fix what's broken. and as you navigate the streets, you realise that this is one of those times.

the tears come then, hot and unstoppable, and you let them fall, mourning the loss of what once was and what could never be.

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 19 🍒

"Hungry Heart"

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 6,022

Summary: Going to Jackson for a wedding seems like just a friend doing a favor for a friend, but old acquaintances and new attitudes don't always make for a great combination.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 39, Joel is 56), takes place June - December 2023, mention of eating food/drinking alcohol, mention of divorce, language, No Smut, mention of infidelity, post-divorce strife, Ellie is kind of a delinquent (will be discussed in next chapter), brief glimpse of lumberjack!Joel, forced proximity, mutual pining (mostly on Joel's side), Joel tries to be an authority figure and Ellie ain't having it

Author's Note: thank you to everyone who's stuck around to read this and been very patient with me! my birthday was last week so there was a lot going on, otherwise I would have had this out earlier. So.. we've got these two together again, but the reunion isn't exactly a happy one..

Series Masterlist

June 2023 San Francisco, CA

It's not until you're seated in a booth at the trendy new sushi bar downtown that you begin to doubt your agreement to meet Sarah while she's in town for a work conference. You'd said yes initially, then waffled about it in the coming weeks, and now you're drinking sake to fortify yourself. Your therapist told you it's a bad idea to mix alcohol with reacquaintances, but you're already refilling the ochoko when you look up for a moment and spy Sarah approaching you through the crowded restaurant.

You've never thought about what she might look like. A part of you imagined that you'd be sitting down to dinner with the same kid from twenty years ago. But Sarah has grown up, in her thirties, a successful attorney. And, from what you gathered by spying on Joel's Facebook account years ago, she's also a mother.

"Thank you for meeting me," she says, embracing you the way women always embrace each other, something you never got used to because of you lack of female friends. She smells like expensive perfume, the kind you spray on yourself at Sephora just for fun, and is dressed in a white maxi dress with blue floral print. She looks amazing, and you silently berate yourself for wearing black distressed jeans, a Rolling Stones tee and your lucky red Converse.

"You're all grown up," you remark, a hint of sadness in your tone.

"You look beautiful," she says in return. "You don't even look like twenty years have passed."

Little does she know you spent forty dollars on a concealer to hide your undereye circles, and were talked into spending another twenty on something called a lip oil that makes your lips sticky and tastes like cheap pineapple, which you wiped away on the restaurant napkin as soon as you sat down.

Settling down to small talk, you neglect to look at your menus, annoying the waitress who stops by to take your order three times and ultimately just comes by to refill your drinks.

Sarah lives out east in Boulder, Colorado, practicing law alongside her fiance Theo. They have a son together, ten year old Finn.

"Theo proposed when I got pregnant," Sarah says. "But I wanted us to build a foundation first, construct our little family. And when the time was right, I proposed to him."

She shows off pictures of Finn, sharing the funny and cute anecdotes that parents do, and when she asks about Ellie you do the same: Ellie in the hospital, just hours old, wearing a tiny knitted pink and blue hat as she glowered at the camera; Ellie at four, playing T-ball, one of just two girls on an all-boys team; Ellie at ten winning the school spelling bee.

Being an Army wife gave you the opportunity to see the world, experience things you otherwise wouldn't. Japan, Germany, Italy.. you were happy that Ellie got to experience them too.

But even that couldn't save your marriage to Justin.

There were infidelities on both sides, and when you found out about his, it was almost a relief to discover he was not Nice Justin, just a man who had affairs. In the midst of your own liaisons, you felt vindicated, though the fun wore off easier than it had in your youth.

Filing for divorce was only difficult considering Ellie. Justin didn't fight it, handing over full custody. It was the only part of the process that broke your heart. Now you were just repeating a history of broken families. Once the divorce was finalized it was like throwing up after being nauseous for so long, just good to get it out of your system.

("I kept my married name, just to piss off the new wife," you tell Sarah, who snickers in response. "That's understandable.")

Settling in San Francisco where you like the neighborhood and the schools, life seems easier.

"Ninth grade history," you answer when Sarah asks what you teach. "I introduce Romeo & Juliet to kids who are the same age as those characters."

And now, with the niceties out of the way, there's nothing left to talk about but the past.

You've been dreading it.

"I never apologized for what I did," she says.

You nod, inviting her to continue.

"You probably know this by now, but I was the one who called your mom."

Of course you knew it all along, but hearing it is a different thing.

She got her number from your phone when you weren't around. And, unable to get the picture of you and her dad out of her mind, she dialed it one day and explained to your mom what she saw.

"Why?" you ask.

She averts her eyes a brief moment. "Deep down I always knew there was something going on with you and my dad.. the day of my party when I walked in on you, it was a rude awakening. It's one thing to know something is going on, and another thing to witness it. And later, when you left, I realized I'd taken it too far."

Sarah goes quiet and so do you, despite the chatter in the busy restaurant.

You ask, "Did Joel ever find out it was you?"

She nods. "I told him later.. after he started seeing that awful girl you were friends with."

That part of your life, the bubble of jealousy and despair in which you made your home, seems so long ago. "Hailey," you remind her.

"Yeah.. she didn't last very long. Dad broke things off when he caught her stealing from him.. and when that happened I realized he was just better off with you. But.. by then it was too late."

By then you were already apart. The damage had been done.

"Was he angry at you for what you did?"

Sarah shrugs. "It was a silent kind of angry. You know how he is. We avoided each other for weeks until it became impossible. And by then.. you were gone."

You take a moment to reflect on your memories of Joel. "How is he?"

She smiles, as if she knew or even hoped you'd ask about him. "He's good. He's in Jackson now. Wyoming. Tommy's there with his new wife.."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. "And, uh.. your stepmom?"

She looks blank for a moment. "You mean Tess? No, they divorced a few years ago. She was nice, it just didn't work out."

You don't know whether to feel sorrow or relief at this fact, but for once you decide to be petty and let the relief take over, hoping he went through a fraction of the pain you endured.

Sarah toys with her salmon roll. "I'm sorry," she says, nodding to herself as if giving herself strength to do it. She looks you in the eye and you catch a glimpse of the girl she used to be. "I'm sorry. For starting everything."

So many times you've imagined what it would be like if you hadn't been found out by anyone else. Would you still have stayed in Austin? Would you and Joel have had more time together?

"It's in the past, right?" You manage a smile, happy that this is out in the open. A part of you feels like a weight is lifted. Things may not have happened the way you wanted, but now you can reconcile the things you can't control anymore.

"This is probably the wrong time to say this," Sarah continues, "but I'd like to invite you and Ellie to my wedding this December, in Jackson. You won't have to worry about airfare or hotels. Theo and I will cover your ticket and.. well, everyone's staying at my dad's. He has a huge house in town, enough for close family. I'd really love it if you would come."

"Justin, you're really fucking me over, do you know that?" you try to speak as quietly as you can into the phone while laying out outfits for the Jackson trip. "Ellie's going to be brokenhearted. You told her you'd have her the entire two weeks."

On the other line Justin sighs, the new, younger Mrs. Williams can be heard in the background. "I promised Svetlana first. We really need this time together," he whispers as well, likely not trying to instigate another argument with his wife.

You have some choice words for Svetlana, but are interrupted when Ellie quietly walks into the room, well aware that the discussion is about her. "I'll call you back."

"Let me guess.." Ellie sits on the edge of the bed. "I'm not going with Dad for Christmas.."

There's no point in lying to her. She's a sharp kid. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, kiddo. He and your stepmother are taking an extended honeymoon in Malta," you tell her gently.

"You mean Slutlana?"

"What? Ellie, that's rude. Don't say that." You pause. "Don't say that to her face, at least."

She's quiet, and at times like this you regret that she's essentially living the life you lived at fourteen, always wondering when Dad would come back, if he even wanted to spend time with his own child.

"So.. I'm going with you?"

You nod. "Thank god your probation is over. It'd be nice if you paid Marlene a visit, or at least called her," I said, speaking of the parole officer assigned to Ellie after a particular incident. "We should send her some Tiff's Treats or something, she deserves a gift after putting up with your delinquent self." You playfully toss a tee shirt at her.

"Can I say bye to Riley?" she asks, hope evident in her eyes.

"No," you're adamant on this one thing, as lax as you were before the trespassing situation.

"Mom, my probation's over. I'm not gonna get in trouble just for talking to her."

"I don't care. I'm not going by the judge's rules, I'm going by mine." You pause. "You'll just have to come with me to Wyoming."

Sarah had gone to the trouble of sending a beautifully embossed wedding invitation, done in traditional cream and gold, with photos of the two of them as children, as teens, and one gorgeously done couples photo. Theo's cute, and Sarah seems happy with him.

"Boring," Ellie says in response to the wedding festivities. "Why would anyone want to get married?"

You decide not to give her a response. At her age you didn't understand the fuss about weddings either.

Forgoing Sarah's offer of paying for your flight, you rent a Chevrolet Suburban for the drive over.

"You do realize we'll be driving for over fourteen hours, right?" Ellie says, helping you put the suitcases and bags in the roomy luggage hold.

"Yep. I checked it out on Google Maps."

"What happens if you get tired?"

"We'll drive during the day and find a rest stop or a motel at night," you shrug.

"You know.. I could take over the drive sometimes," she offers.

"Okay, kiddo. Why not?"

She brightens. "Really?"

"Absolutely fucking not." With a smile you open the passenger door and she hops in, grumbling,

Only so much music can suffice a long ride, and somewhere outside of Reno, Ellie busts out a dog-eared copy of a book Justin had given her as a gag won the spelling bee.

"Oh no, Ellie, for god's sake, not the puns," you whine dramatically.

"Yes, the puns," she grins. "How else am I supposed to spend my time on this boring-ass road trip?"

"Brace yourself. We've only been on the road less than four hours."

She groans, slumping forward in her seat, revived shortly when she decides to recite every single pun in that damn book, and when you give her that Mom look, she simply grins and tells you, "That's what you get for turning down a plane ticket."

Three days later you arrive. Jackson Hole is picturesque, especially in winter, as it it was just made to be the snowy backdrop on a postcard or a highlight on Instagram.

You turn down the main thoroughfare of the town, a light dusting of snow already falling from the heavens as you peer out the window, frowning in concentration as you try to familiarize yourself with the location. Ellie's buzzing in your ear like a mosquito, singing along to something on the radio. You turn the volume down. "Quiet down, I can't see."

She nearly bursts at the seam with withheld laughter. "You want me to quiet down... because you can't see?" she teases.

"Ellie!" you groan. "We're already late for lunch with the family."

Promising yourself you'll settle in a hotel after what you hope will be a painless reunification with Sarah and the rest of the Millers, you find your destination and drive up a perfectly paved driveway. Joel's house, a craftsman-style facade done in red brick and accented with carved gable peaks, looks exactly like a house Joel would own.

Parking close enough on the curved driveway without blocking in any other cars, you take a moment to rest, stretching your neck and shoulders.

"Should've let me drive," Ellie says from her seat as you both start to disembark.

There's a smart remark on your lips but when you turn to her you're distracted by a figure at the side of the house.

Someone's chopping wood, splitting logs with precision, though not necessarily speed. He's wearing just a white tee shirt, jeans, boots. You let your eyes linger on his physique. Who is that? you wonder.

As if he can hear your thoughts or sense your presence, the figure turns and wipes the sweat off his brow.

You know him in an instant.

Joel.

Your heart feels like it's going into arrhythmia.

"Come on, Ellie," you hurry her up the walk and to the front steps.

"The bags--"

"Fuck the bags." You press the doorbell nervously, willing Sarah or anyone to open quickly.

"You made it!" Sarah practically mauls you as she greets you, giving both you and Ellie a hug.

You're swept inside where it's nice and cozy, the air scented with pine and gingerbread. Christmas garlands are strung over every doorway, along the staircase railing, the windows, and the fireplace.

"Was my dad out there? I told him he needs to start getting ready. I don't want him coming to the luncheon all sweaty," Sarah says.

"What? No. I didn't see anything.. anyone," you stutter.

"I'm happy you're here, because we're actually going to have lunch at the Tipsy Bison instead. It's Tommy's bar, you probably passed it on the way up here."

"Oh, uh.." you're distracted by Ellie precariously sloshing a winter themed snow globe, the thought of Joel is still spinning around in your sleep-deprived brain, and Sarah is still talking to you like you don't look completely zoned out and anxious.

To make things worse, Joel comes in, carrying most of yours and Ellie's luggage. His white tee sticks to his sweaty skin, his face pink with exertion and dewy with sweat, his hair dark with more gray now than ever, and on his beard too. His eyes, those dark depths you've lost yourself in so many times, peer into yours, and for a moment you forget to breathe.

"You left the trunk open," he murmurs, as if it's a quiet admonition, a secret he doesn't want to tell.

"Oh.. thank you. You didn't have to do that." Your nervous glance at him gives your blushing away because you see his face redden as well.

"Dad, can you believe she has a kid now?" Sarah says excitedly.

There's a jolt of fear when you realize father and daughter are going to be in the same room, and neither of them knows it.

"Uh, Ellie, this is Joel Miller. He's, uh, Sarah's dad, and I used to babysit Sarah.. a long time ago.." Being put on the spot, you falter your words.

"Put 'er there, Joel," Ellie says, holding out her hand for him to shake, which Joel does, the start of a tiny smirk on his lips.

"We all lived in Austin together, with your Aunt Sofia. I mean, we didn't live together but we were neighbors," you babble, feeling even more blush creep up your neck. "Way before you were born, kiddo."

Meanwhile Sarah's eyes dart from Ellie to Joel to you, and back again, slower each time, as if she's piecing the puzzle together. Her eyes linger on Ellie, her expression unreadable before settling on you. You quickly glance away.

"Let me take that from you," you motion to the luggage Joel's carrying.

"Nah, I got it. I'll show ya to y'all's rooms." He hefts the suitcases and bags like they're nothing and heads upstairs. You have no choice but to follow him, sneaking a little glance at how his great his ass looks in his jeans.

"Nice place you got here, Joel," Ellie remarks, eyes skyward, surveying the landing at the top of the stairs.

"Thank you," he says quietly. "Do you always address your elders by their given names?"

"Ellie," you whisper harshly. "Mind your manners."

"Damn, sorry," she mutters back.

"Sorry, Joel. She's--"

"Hey, why do you get to call him Joel?"

"Because I'm an adult," you say under your breath.

"He's older than you. Like, a lot. Like, Grandpa Bob's age."

"Stop it," you say through clenched teeth as Joel clears his throat.

"I can put y'all next door to each other--"

"I call this one!" Ellie claims the first door on the left, grabbing her bags and leaving Joel to lead you a little further down the hall.

"'M afraid this one is right across the hall from mine," he mumbles, leading you inside the comfortably decorated bedroom to set your things down.

"Thank you," you murmur, heart thrumming in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone with him in fifteen years. "You.. have a really beautiful home here, Joel."

He looks around, eyes darting anywhere but yours. "Thank you, that means a lot. Built it myself-- well, with Tommy's help."

"Really?" It's hard to pretend you're not impressed. "Must've been a lot of hard work."

"Yeah, it was. But she's sturdy." Joel gives a sturdy pat to the wall, and you can't help looking at his hand, the way his thick fingers splay out against the dark green wallpaper. Those are fingers that used to find their way inside you, curving just so in order for you to come quickly while his lips and tongue worked in tandem to--

Ellie's voice comes from the other room. "Wow! You guys have cable? Do you have HBO?"

"No Euphoria!" you shout back, scoffing when she quiets again.

There are too many questions on the tip of your tongue, too many things you want to say but not when you're so nervous that your hands are shaking. Staying quiet is easier. More awkward, but easier.

The room fills with unspoken words and missed chances as the two of you shift uneasily, not knowing where to start, not knowing if you should start.

"Didn't know ya had a daughter," he grumbles. "Not 'til Sarah told me."

"Yeah. Ellie's.. precocious."

A ghost of a smile graces Joel's lips as he looks at you and for a moment in time you feel eighteen again.

"How old is she?" he asks.

"She turned fourteen this past spring." God, please don't let him do the math, please don't let him do the math.

Instead he gives a low whistle, wears a teasing smile. "You look good for bein' the mom of a teenager. You still look beauti-- still look the same," he finishes.

You're thirty nine now and in possession of all the complexities that come with your age. There's more gray in your hair than you care to admit (which Ellie tells you not to dye because it "looks cool"), and there are a few more pounds on your person and a few more lines on your face than you're happy with, but his compliment warms you nonetheless.

"You look.. good.. too." Jesus, how did this man age like fine wine? If anything, the past two decades only served to make him hotter. It's unfair.

He takes a step forward, his face determined, lips pursed like he's still calculating his decision. "I.. I wanted to say--"

This time Sarah comes up, dressed for the cold, putting on her gray gloves. "Dad, get in the shower already," she scolds him. "I'm taking her and Ellie to the Tipsy Bison. We'll see you there."

Joel's eyes set on you. "I don't mind takin' them."

You open your mouth to speak, even though you have no idea how to respond. "Honestly, I'll drive me and my daughter. And we can get a room in town."

"No way, Jose." Sarah loops your arm through hers. "You're staying with us and that's final. So, will you let me drive you, or do you want to wait for my dad?"

Waiting for Joel.. it seems you've spent the majority of your youth waiting for him.

"Can we go with Sarah?" Ellie asks, solving the problem for you.

In truth you would have liked a moment to rest, to sleep, to puzzle over the strangeness of the day so far. You're almost a thousand miles from the home you've made after your divorce, under the same roof as the man who changed your life in ways good and bad, harboring a secret from him and his family. Not to mention Ellie's ignorance of her origins.

Sarah herds you and Ellie into the Tipsy Bison, a spacious bar establishment on Main Street, part of the scenery you must have driven by without noticing upon driving into town. Inside is the typical decor you'd expect: neon lights advertising every brand of beer and alcohol you can imagine, taxidermy mounts of bears, bucks, and elk. Pool tables are at the far left, dartboards to the right, a couple of foosball tables as well. There's a stage beyond the pool tables, ready for a band or DJ, a makeshift dance floor in front of it, and colored lights remain still overhead, their brightness dulled and stilled by the daytime.

There's a homey, cozy feeling as you glance around. The bar spreads along the far side beyond a range of tables and booths, boasting a wide variety of booze. Working behind the bar is a face you haven't seen in awhile: Tommy.

He comes out to greet you, his smile and bright and joyful as you've always known him to be, and part of you feels guilty that the last time you were together you'd been drunk, making out next to his truck, after meeting in a bar just like this one.

"Hey you!" He envelops you in a tight hug, and you start to feel better. Bygones are certainly bygones in his case.

"Tommy, it's good to see you again," you smile, pulling away to get a good look at him. "You've hardly aged. What's with you Millers, are you all vampires or something?" You cast a playful look at Sarah, who's bringing her fiance and her son to meet you.

Tommy shrugs, a playful grin on his lips. "You're more than welcome to join our Legion of the Undead," he jokes.

You're introduced to Theo, Sarah's husband-to-be, who's on the quiet side, a contradiction to Sarah who's chattering away about him, and Finn, who's an exact replica of his dad, eyeing you and Ellie with a shy smile.

Ellie manages to find a friend in him as you and the others get to catching up. You're introduced to Maria, Tommy's wife, the roundness of her baby bump just barely showing. She oversees the caterers as they start setting up for lunch. Tommy and Sarah talk about you like you're a part of the family instead of someone who knew them for a summer and changed things forever, even in some small way.

"Sarah tells me this is your place now," you speak to Tommy, who's behind the bar and pouring you a drink.

"Sure is," he says, sliding the drink across the bar to you. "Don't know anyone who orders a gin and tonic in the middle of winter," he says, teasing you.

"I'm eccentric," you smirk, taking a sip of the crisp, slightly bitter drink.

"Should be you behind this bar, Cherry," he winks.

"Oh god, no one's called me that in forever," you groan, doing a quick check on Ellie to find her attempting to play pool with Finn.

"How's business?" you ask him.

"Good, good," he nods. "Just glad to be settin' down some roots, buildin' somethin' for when the baby comes."

"Congratulations," you smile. "You and Maria seem like a good fit."

"Well.. y'know.. can't fuck around forever," he chuckles, then he spots someone at the entrance.

"Hey, brother!" Tommy raises his hand in greeting and you stay still, wishing you could sink down into the ground or better yet, become invisible completely.

The old-fashioned jukebox ends a Fleetwood Mac song and drifts into "Hungry Heart" by Bruce Springsteen starts, the catchy, melancholic combo of piano, drums, bass, guitar and saxophone wafting throughout the bar. You keep your eyes on your drink, willing for all of this to be just a dream, some intrusive thought you've put incredible detail into, prolonging your grief over lost love.

But there he is, a barstool between you, giving you your space while ready to jump up at a moment's notice if you want him closer. Your casual glance gives you away when you stare too long at him, clad in a green flannel shirt, his gray tee peeking beneath. You could swear it's the same flannel shirt you wore at the cabin, in the days when you were younger and carefree, before bad things happened to separate you.

Joel catches your look, lips twitching into a smile as his hands wrap around a glass of whiskey.

"So, what took you away from Boston?" you ask, putting your lips to your drink so you're not tempted to ask too much. It's an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"Lot of things," he mutters, staring into the amber liquid. "But mostly I followed Tommy out here."

"I was in Boston with him for awhile." Tommy shakes his head. "Hated it. I'll never set foot on the East Coast again if I can help it. I came out here, met Maria, started a family."

"And Sarah was already out here, buildin' a life. Just made sense for us all to be together again."

You look at both of them, glad the conversation isn't just between you and Joel. "The house is amazing. Joel told me you both built it."

The look of pride on their faces is endearing.

"We did, and mine too, across the street from his," Tommy adds.

"What happened to the contracting business?"

"We expanded it," Joel answers, a twinkle in his eye though his expression remains serious. "Made a nice chunk of change. Got branches in Oklahoma, Arkansas, even as far as Georgia."

That would explain the six-bedroom house, the fancy week-long wedding rituals that Sarah has joyfully swept you up in, and the catered lunches. The Millers have become quite financially well-off.

You listen to the brothers talk about some of the adventures they've been on, the good and the bad that has passed and ultimately brought them here, with you, once again.

The lunch spread is impressive: Texas style barbecue of ribs, brisket, and chicken; side dishes of beans, potato salad, grilled corn on the cob, macaroni and cheese, and mouthwatering desserts of pumpkin and pecan pies, cheesecake, banana pudding, and peach cobbler.

You haven't realized how hungry you are until you realize you have to remember to force yourself to eat slower, accidentally spilling a little barbecue sauce on your shirt. Embarrassed, you wipe it away, glancing at Ellie and finding her doing the same thing, just shoveling forkfuls of food in her mouth.

"Easy there," Joel's voice booms from across the table. "No one's gonna take it from ya," he playfully chides.

You were so absorbed in your lunch that you didn't realize he was right across from you. "Ellie," you scold her quietly. "Slow down."

"This is slow for me," she answers.

"Mind your mama," Joel says gruffly, his tone is authoritative.

She looks up at him, in annoyance and surprise. "You don't tell me what to do."

"And you don't talk back like that." Joel's voice gets a little more strict.

"Joel, stop," you intercede, your voice just as terse. The chatter around the table has dimmed but it's obvious everyone has their focus on you three.

"The kid obviously needs some fuckin' manners."

You scoff. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

His eyes lock with yours, dark and cold. "I see where she gets it from. I guess that's what happens when a dad ain't around to teach some respect."

"Fuck this," Ellie mutters, pushing back from the table and throwing down her napkin, quick to get up and leave.

Your face is flaming red with both anger and embarrassment as your gaze burns through Joel's. "There's something wrong with you. Seriously," you mutter before getting up to go after her.

Joel goes after you. Sarah goes after Joel.

"Ellie!" you call out, watching her walk off in the direction of the house.

"I'll get her," Sarah volunteers, gently touching your arm. And then you hear her speak to Joel under her breath, something like "You're ruining it," before she hurries up to catch Ellie.

It's you and Joel now.

"Babygirl," he starts, his voice low.

"Babygirl?? Fuck you!"

Joel goes pale, obviously not expecting that. "I deserve that. I deserve for you to hate me."

"Hate you? No, you deserve worse than for me to hate you! How dare you yell at Ellie like that? I never once saw you treat Sarah that way."

"She never acted like that," he huffs.

"Do us both a favor and just stay away from us for the rest of the week. I'll see about getting a motel tonight, just.. fucking leave us alone."

He mutters Christ, and reaches for you, pulls you to the side of the building. "I'm sorry, all right?"

"Yeah? Tell her that." You could easily leave. He's not restraining you, but you stay. "Is that all you have to apologize for?"

He looks guilty. "No, of course not. I've been trying to talk to you since you got here--"

"Fifteen goddamn years and I don't hear anything from you? And now you.. what, you expect me to fall into your arms like I'm a stupid fucking teenager again? Go to hell! Nothing is that simple anymore!"

You hadn't meant for all your rage to come spilling out, it was just supposed to be about Ellie, but now that you're face to face with him, you can't help wanting to rage at him. Joel backs away from you, his eyes on the ground, hands on his hips, jaw set.

"Longer than that, actually," you softly correct yourself. "San Antonio.. you fucking left me. On my birthday."

He steps forward, not ready to back down. "I went to jail for you. On my birthday."

"I didn't ask you to do that! I didn't ask for anything but for you to love me! And you stopped!"

"No, I didn't," he whispers, arms hanging at his side even though they itch to reach out for you, hold you, make it better again.

"Don't say that," you warn him, backing away. "Don't insult my intelligence, Joel. You don't know what I went through after you left me. My heart was broken for years!"

"You were just a kid. I.. I thought I was doin' right by lettin' you go."

"I wasn't better because of you breaking up with me. I got worse! So much worse!" You don't dwell a lot on the past, specifically the college years that are now mostly a blur of hookups and hangovers, but now it all comes rushing back. Joel was your safety net and he took all that away from you once you started to freefall.

"Bullshit. You got married," he says bitterly.

"I did that so I could feel normal again. I tried to save myself. But it didn't matter in the end because he didn't love me either. Though I have to say, my divorce hurt a hell of a lot less than your abandonment."

Joel starts to look his age. The lines in his face deepen with worry and regret as he absorbs your words, mulling over everything that has happened. "I'm sorry--"

"Besides, you got married too! So please don't play like you're such a saint. You hardly look the part." Your anger has warmed you, given some spice to your blood so that you don't even feel the cold anymore. You roll your sleeves to your elbows, fists curled, adrenaline pumping as you finally tell him everything that's been locked away inside your heart.

"I don't accept your apology," you grunt, adding, "And don't ever yell at our daughter like that ever again!" You storm off, wishing you'd brought your jacket but it would mean having to walk past Joel, back into the restaurant and out again, and you're already walking away. It seems one of you is always walking away from the other.

It's snowing again when you find Sarah and Ellie, further down in front of a storefront, steaming cups of hot chocolate in their hands. Both are smiling, chatting, seemingly getting along. You know you should reprimand Ellie, tell her to apologize to Joel, but how can you be a hypocrite that way when you won't even talk to him yourself? All you can think about is leaving, going straight to the motel and picking up your things at Joel's later.

Sarah talks you into staying, warning of bad weather coming in soon. She apologizes for Joel, and you apologize for airing your grievances so publicly.

"Just don't do it at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow," she smirks. "Then I'll have to leave your ass out in the snow."

That evening you and Ellie keep to your rooms. You use your phone for distraction when your attention span keeps drifting from your novel, but even technology isn't the answer. There's only so much Merge Mansion you can play, and not even True Detective can hold your attention for long. You decide to rewatch Narcos (for the plot, you tell yourself) when Ellie knocks on your door.

"What's up, kiddo?" You press pause and scoot over on the bed, offering her to get comfy next to you.

"Have you seen the news?"

You're on Do Not Disturb and haven't gotten any of your usual notifications.

"There's a blizzard coming tonight. Sarah says sometimes the main roads get snowed in and we won't be able to get out."

Oh Sarah Miller, the purveyor of bad news. "She told me something like that. How long do they expect conditions to last?" You're already checking your phone.

"Could be days, maybe even up to a week," Ellie shrugs.

"Great," you mutter. "So we're stuck here even after the wedding?" It's the day after tomorrow.

"Please don't make us go to the motel. Sarah's really cool and really nice. And I even like Theo and Finn.. even Joel isn't so bad so long as he stops talking to me like a dad."

That night, as the blizzard blows in, turning everything outside completely white, Joel tosses in his sleep in his room across the hall from yours. It's not the howling winds keeping him awake; he's lived here long enough to get used to such natural disasters.

There's something you said to him, earlier outside the bar. It was an explosive moment, with words exchanged like bullets. But in the midst of it all he took away that one sentence: don't ever yell at our daughter like that ever again.

Our daughter?

dividers by @saradika 👑

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[queenshelby]

The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part Three: Confrontation

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

Over the next few  days, you and Cillian carried on with your usual routine, but there was a noticeable distance between the two of you. In class, he would sit as far away from you as possible, and his answers in seminars were brief and to the point. You couldn't help but wonder if you had hurt his feelings, but exhaustion eventually set in. You were going through a demanding period at work, and you had to remind yourself that you had made the right decision.

You knew that Cillian was a mere distraction, a fleeting moment of desire that you couldn't afford to indulge in. As a professor, you were always conscious of the power dynamic that existed between you and your students.

You knew that your position meant that you were in a position of authority, and that opening yourself up to a romantic relationship was not only inappropriate but also risky.

You knew that you had to maintain your professionalism, no matter how difficult it might be.

And so, you carried on, putting your attraction to Cillian to the side as you focused on your work.

Your days were long and demanding. Not only were you busy with work, but you were also going through an ugly separation and divorce. 

One evening, you left the campus late, feeling drained and exhausted and decided to call into a bar nearby. You knew that there was live music playing and thinking that some music might help to lift your spirits, you decided that it would be the perfect remedy to an otherwise exhausting day.

The busy bar was crowded with people, most of whom were students, their laughter and chatter filling the room.

Just as you ordered a glass of wine though, someone tapped you on the shoulder. Surprised, you turned around to find the man you were still married to standing there. James and you had been separated for months but the way things had ended were rather unfortunate for you both. He had been unfaithful to you  , his infidelity leaving you heartbroken, angry, and insidiously doubtful about yourself, despite your professional achievements and your generally charmed life.

You had been trying hard to avoid him at university where he worked as a professor in a different faculty and seeing him here, tonight,  hit you like a ton of bricks, your heart pounding heavily and sweat starting to gather on your brow.

His lips quirked into a half-smile and you struggled not to let him see how much his unexpected presence unnerved you.

"James," you said, managing a pleasant but measured tone. "I didn't expect to run into you here. Bars like these aren't usually your scene."

"I know," he replied, his eyes scanning your face. "But you took pretty much everything I owned, so I'm kind of short on cash these days and the drinks here are cheap," he mused, but you immediately felt irritated. 

"Everything you owned?" you chuckled bitterly. "You mean everything I paid for from the money I had inherited when my grandmother passed away?" you said, your voice tight with anger. You hated that he could still get under your skin, but you refused to let him see that he affected you. 

"I made a mistake and I apologised, but clearly that wasn't good enough. You just went right ahead and filed for seperation,"  James said, his tone turning defensive, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his victim mentality, that and his somewhat warped sense of reality. "You put me out on the street and then you avoided me. You keep your distance at work and you don't pick up my calls. It's not fucking fair that, after five years, the only person I get to talk to now is your fucking attorney,"  he snapped, and you could see a tick forming in his jaw.

You took a deep breath, trying to rein in your temper. "Look, James, I'm not doing this again. I'm sorry that our separation has been hard on you, but that's not my problem anymore. You made your bed, now lie in it," you said firmly, trying to put an end to the conversation.

But James wasn't done yet. "You know why I cheated on you Y/N?" he asked , taking a step closer to you, and the anger bubbling within you threatened to boil over. But you instead focused on the words needed to be said.

"James, I really don't want to have this discussion with you right now," you responded, taking a step back, but he followed, closing in on you and invading your personal space.

"No, but I think you should hear it," he said, a hint of malice in his voice. "I cheated on you because you simply weren't enough for me Y/N. You became boring and predictable which, really, was a shame because it all started off so well."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and it took all your strength not to react. Leaving your almost full glass of wine standing there, you reached for your coat and bag, needing air. You needed to escape the stifling atmosphere and the suffocating weight of James's words.

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to show any weakness.

"I gotta go," you muttered, still fumbling to loop your arms through your coat sleeves.

James moved to grab your arm, but you jerked it away, taking a hasty step back. "Don't fucking touch me," you hissed, your voice barely above a whisper, knowing that the entire bar's patrons looked at both of you.

"Come on, Y/N, don't be like that," James pleaded, holding his hands up defensively. "I didn't mean—,"

"No, you meant every single word. And that's fine, James. I moved on and it's time for you to let go, too."

You turned to leave, but James's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"You're just going to run away again? Just like you always do when things get tough?"

You spun on your heel to face him, anger flashing in your eyes. "No, James. I'm not running away. I'm taking care of myself. I'm moving on, and you should too.

I wish you all the best, James, I really do." You said the words coldly, all the warmth and love you once felt for him gone. You had given him your best, and he had tossed it aside for something fleeting and temporary. You would not let him make you feel small and insignificant; you were stronger than that but, just as you stormed out of the bar, you collided with yet another familiar face.

This time, it was Cillian. He had been at a table near the entrance, nursing a beer, but his attention had been fixated on you.

Seeing you clash with James had stirred something inside of him and, as seen through his eyes, you looked resolute, yet hurt. The pain in your expression was almost unbearable to watch, and there was an overwhelming urge to reach out to you and offer comfort, except he was unsure how to proceed as you tried hard to ignore his presence.

"Hey, Miss Y/LN. Just wait a sec," Cillian called out to you as you tried to slip past him, not wanting to deal with him right now. Your emotions were already running high, and you didn't think you could handle another run-in with someone who had a hold on you. However, before you knew it, Cillian's hand was on your arm, gently tugging you back towards him. "Are you okay?" he wanted to know before making a rather blunt statement. "I couldn't help but notice your disagreement or something with Professor Douchbag over there," Cillian trailed off delicately, gesturing subtly towards James, his expression filled with concern.

You couldn't help but chuckle, a bitter sound that vaguely resembled amusement. "He is actually my ex-husband," you corrected him matter-of-factly, rubbing your temple with the tips of your fingers.

Cillian looked at you, a number of emotions playing across his features before curiosity edged out the others. "Your ex-husband? Really?" Cillian asked, baffled. "You were married to that guy?" he ought to confirm and you nodded solemnly, a sad smile forming on your lips. "Unfortunately that is a yes," you said as you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. "I think it's best if I head home," you stated, glancing past Cillian towards the street, the crisp air lightly brushing against your skin.

However, Cillian was not about to let you leave just like that. Not after having seen the sour turn of events that had unfolded before his very eyes.

He noticed the distress plastered across your face, the tears threatening to spill over, and before he could think twice about it, he found himself speaking up, his voice firm and clear.

"I don't know what he did or say to you, but I can tell you this - you can do so much better than this guy. He seems like a real self-important jerk at uni and you are beautiful and smart, so, uhm...I don't know..." Cillian said, honesty and sincerity etched onto every syllable he uttered. "You just deserve more than that."

His voice cracked ever so slightly, revealing the hidden depth of his protectiveness and concern for you. A wave of gratitude washed over you as you turned to look at him, really look at him, for the first time in what felt like ages. Your shield of indifference faltered as you met Cillian's tender regard. Your vision blurred as you tried to prevent your oncoming tears from falling. He reached out tentatively, his warm fingers gently wiping away an escaped tear from your cheek.

You sniffled, trying to collect yourself, and managed a feeble smile. "Thank you, Cillian. That is probably the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a long time," you breathed, leaning into his touch for the briefest moment before collecting yourself. "And I appreciate your kindness, but I should really be heading home now."

Despite this, Cillian couldn't seem to shake this newfound curiosity about you. Perhaps it was the vulnerable, broken woman he had witnessed earlier, the unmistakable pain in her voice and the tears in her eyes, all thanks to James' vicious words. Or perhaps it was the courage you showed as you confronted him, your strength a stark contrast to the fragility he had just witnessed.

"Let me walk you home. It's late , and I don't want you wandering around alone," Cillian offered softly, remnants of his charming smile lingering. An unfamiliar sense of vulnerability rose within you. Normally, you brushed off such advances with ease, but Cillian was different. He was young, sincere, and impossible to ignore.

"I think that would be really improper, seeing that you are my student and all," you reminded him but, this time around, Cillian ought to argue.

"How so? I am just walking you home to make sure you get there safely. Besides, isn't it our university's policy to keep an eye out for each other, especially when it comes to safety?" Cillian reasoned sheepishly. "You even said so yourself in one of your lectures," he added, hoping you would relent and allow him to accompany you. 

"Alright , that creeps me out a bit but I guess you do have a point there," you joked nervously, finally abandoning your tough exterior as you let out soft laughter, still in shock about this unexpected turn of events, but wary and distrustful at the same time.  Stepping out of the cozy pub, you were greeted by a plateau of darkness interrupted by intermittent pools of yellowish light emanating from surrounding street lamps; illuminating swatches of the narrow sidewalk and foggy pavement in oblong shapes.

" Where do you live, Miss. Y/LN?" Cillian asked, briefly breaking the silence enveloping them since they left the pub. The brisk wind whistling softly around them launched a shower of gold and red-colored leaves above.

"Not far from here. Just a few blocks away, off College Road," you revealed, adjusting the lapels of your trench coat against the onslaught of the cool evening breeze. "How about you Cillian? Do you live on Campus?"  you inquired, looking at him as you both kept walking. The crunching sound of dried leaves with every step punctuated the silence between you.

"Nah, I can't afford that. I still live with my parents in Douglas," Cillian replied, sounding a little embarrassed. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him. Being an ambitious young man, Cillian was no stranger to working odd jobs to support himself while studying but you knew yourself that working here and there didn't really pay enough. 

As you walked side by side, the quiet, tense energy between you simmered underneath the surface. You kept stealing glances at him, and each time your eyes met, Cillian would quickly look away, his cheeks flushed.

You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, even though you knew it was inappropriate.

There was just something about him that drew you in, despite all the reasons you shouldn't feel this way.

As you neared your apartment building, a sudden silence fell between you.

You both knew what was coming next, and neither of you was quite sure how to handle it.

Finally, you reached your building, and you turned to face him.

"Well, this is me," you said, your voice hesitant. You don't know why, but you didn't want this moment to end, didn't want to say goodnight and go your separate ways.

Cillian looked up at your building, towering above you both, then back at you. "Right," he said, his voice low. He paused for a moment, and you could see the gears turning in his head.  You wondered what he was thinking, what was going on behind those deep blue eyes of his. Finally, he seemed to make a decision, and he looked at you again, his expression serious.

"Can I ask you something, Miss Y/LN?" he said, addressing you with a formality that was endearing in its earnestness.

"Of course, Cillian," you replied, mirroring his formality but unable to suppress the slight tremble in your voice.

You could feel your heart beating faster as you waited for his question, unsure of where this conversation was headed.

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[aliciameade]

Darkness at Dawn - Ch. 4

Title: Darkness at Dawn Author: aliciameade Rating: M/E Pairing: Stephanie Smothers/Emily Nelson Summary: Even Bonnie & Clyde met their fate eventually.

Set five years after "Baby."

Also on AO3

Stephanie notices a shift in the way the other inmates act around and toward her after Emily lays claim to her. The intimidating shoulder-checks and glares have stopped; in fact, she’s given a wide berth when moving from point A to B.

When she returns to her cell after breakfast, meekly eaten next to Emily like the property she’s perceived to be, there’s an assortment of items on her bunk. A bar of soap and small bottles of shampoo and conditioner—all name-brands that are far better than the cheap, harsh options they’re provided. Several chocolate bars. Even a bottle of soda and a new toothbrush. She doesn’t know where it came from, but in prison, it was the equivalent of finding a bag of money. She didn’t even eat much chocolate on the outside, but after putting everything away, she settled on her bed and happily ate one. She even split it with her cellmates, who seemed to gain a level of confidence over the following days as well.

They’re protected by proxy. They’re Stephanie’s friends, and everyone knows to not mess with Emily’s girl.

It makes prison life more bearable. She still has to pretend that she’s not voluntarily following Emily around the rec yard, and she has to pretend that she’s being dragged against her will into empty cells and behind trees, and it was a particularly thrilling moment when Emily “jumped” her in the open group showers, making Stephanie get on her knees in front of everyone until Emily yelled at them to leave. She never could have predicted that prison would afford her the opportunity to act out so many fantasies, ones she didn’t even know she had until they were happening. It felt dirty and wrong, and maybe it was. It was also dangerous if they were to get caught. 

Weeks pass. She begs guards to use the phone to call her lawyer, citing her rights being violated by denying access to counsel, but they just laugh in her face or ignore her entirely.

At least she eats better now. Emily gets favorable treatment from the inmates working the kitchen, and so does she. One day, they even got to share an apple. An apple!

She’s going on eight months in when a guard shows up in her cell, cuffing her wrists and chaining her ankles to lead her, by herself, in a direction she’s never been taken before. “Where are you taking me?”

There’s no response from the guard, who jerks on the chain around her waist. He unlocks a door they eventually reach and pushes her through it. It slams closed and locks behind her.

Her attorney is sitting at a table with an empty chair waiting for her.

It’s an emotional conversation. He shares the gravity of her situation. What should happen next. What could go wrong. That once they finally get back to the USA, the process will finally begin and the time spent in prison in Greece will have been for nothing. That she and Emily will be tried separately, and that they will try to get one to implicate the other.

Stephanie would rather spend her life in prison for a murder she committed and failed to get away with, what she deserves, than let Emily be convicted of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Four months later, she and Emily are sitting on a prisoner transport plane above the Atlantic Ocean flying west. 

They’ve been extradited to face the laundry list of charges against them. They’re charged with many of the same crimes—first-degree murder, conspiracy, forgery, insurance fraud, and money laundering. Stephanie earned the bonus charges of kidnapping for taking Nicky to Greece and perjury for lying under oath at Sean’s murder trial. Emily’s bonus charge is bigamy for marrying Stephanie without divorcing Sean.

Their cases are messy, full of twists and turns and gray areas, and it’s those gray areas that her attorney assures her will result in exoneration. Is it kidnapping when Emily agreed to it, even if Sean didn’t? How can there be bigamy if there was no legal marriage to Stephanie? The exceptions are plentiful, and she gives herself a fifty-fifty chance in front of a jury.

Emily, asleep in her seat on the other side of the aisle, armed U.S. Air Marshals between them, has repeatedly promised that it will work out, that Stephanie will be okay, and that she’ll be reunited with their boys.

Each time Emily reassures her, she grows more worried. Emily is too confident about the situation, and red flags are starting to pop up in her mind.

The flags fade into the background for a while, because she has to adjust to her new home: York Correctional Institution in Connecticut. 

Detective Summerville is there when they arrive at intake. There’s no reason for him to be, but he is and doesn’t say a word. He just sits and smiles haughtily while they’re fingerprinted and photographed.

York is a far cry from Thiva. It’s still a prison, but it’s clean, comparatively. They have uniforms, and Stephanie’s gray sweatpants and maroon T-shirt are sized appropriately. She only has one cellmate who gives Stephanie the house rules on Day One, which she makes sure to follow. The food is tolerable. Comparatively. The chaos is more organized. Her attorney arranges weekly funding of her commissary account from her assets that haven’t been frozen by the government.

She’s surrounded by convicted felons and hardened criminals with serious charges awaiting trials. Like herself, she supposes.

At her bond hearing, she’s denied release despite her plea to be allowed to care for her son and her attorney’s arguments, for all the reasons she anticipated. She’s fled the country once. She knows how to change her identity. She’s accused of first-degree murder.

Freedom is denied with the slam of a gavel.

Prison is lonely. It’s monotonous. It’s dangerous. She struggles to not become a target of others’ misdirected rage, and she’s an easy target being as small and unassuming as she is. It’s apparent to everyone that she hasn’t made a habit of being locked up, and quickly earns the nickname ‘Pumpkin’ (or ‘Punkin,’ as most pronounce it), and several women try to stake claim to her. Several terrifying close calls keep her looking over her shoulder.

Many of them lay off her once she reveals she’s there on a murder charge after persistent questioning at meal times, and that she did time in Greece. Prison knows prison, she learns, and surviving the conditions of the facilities there earns her some respect. A few more finally leave her be when she mentions her wife is locked up there, too, also on a murder charge, and that her name is Emily Nelson.

It’s how she learns Emily’s done what she does best: she’s become a dominant inmate in her block better known as Half-Nelson, and the moniker makes Stephanie laugh. She assumes Emily made quick work of whoever the leader of her block was when she arrived. She hopes she wasn’t injured in the process.

News of power transfers travels quickly, and inmates in Stephanie’s block already know who Half-Nelson is, and were perhaps even warned to stay away from Stephanie if she were to guess by the way they stopped their repeated advances on her. She wishes she’d decided to drop Emily’s name much earlier. It’s also the first time she realizes she might have a way to communicate with Emily, if other people are, if only she can figure out how.

It’s all the things she knows prison is intended to be. They claim it’s supposed to be rehabilitative and teach her a lesson, but all it’s doing is filling her with her own rage and eroding her ability to trust people.

She gets to see Miles sometimes. It had taken many phone calls, a lot of tears, and a lot of breaking down her ego to convince her mother to take him in after Stephanie had kept him from her for nearly six years, leaving her to assume both he and her daughter were dead. It took even more phone calls and meetings with her attorney to set up a new guardianship—this time through Stephanie’s legal name. But she’d managed to get him stateside and avoid the foster system.

Visitations with him are hard. She had delayed it as long as she could, foolishly holding onto a false hope that this would all disappear tomorrow and she’d be released to wrap him up in her arms and kiss the top of his head and pretend that none of this had happened.

But time proved that would not be the case, and three months into her incarceration in Connecticut, she saw her son for the first time in a year. The reunion was in front of a prison guard and her judgmental mother who’d driven him down from Albany where she had moved to when she’d retired while Stephanie had been living her new life. Miles was taller than Stephanie now. She’d missed his thirteenth birthday a few weeks earlier.

He was angry. She wasn’t able to stop crying. He wanted to know what was going on, why she was in prison, why he wasn’t able to see her for so long, and where are his other mom and his brother. When can they all go home? Why did they do this to them?

She didn’t have any good answers for him. She promised she would explain everything eventually, and begged him for patience, trust, and understanding. She knew Nicky had been returned to his father not long after her arrest. She knew Emily was in prison. And she knew, via her attorney, that Emily was fighting her own custody battle for Nicky to not lose her rights permanently.

Even if Stephanie’s mother would allow it—she never would—Miles is disallowed from talking to Emily. She’d been his mother half his life, and he wasn’t allowed to talk to her.

It broke Stephanie’s heart, and it pained her to imagine Emily’s heightened isolation. At least Stephanie has her mother and Miles. Emily’s mother had been suffering from dementia for years, and Stephanie’s not sure if she’s still alive; even if she was, she knows Emily would want nothing to do with her. Stephanie and the boys had become Emily’s entire life, and they’ve all been ripped apart.

Unlike their incarceration in Greece, here her relationship with Emily is part of their records. Summerville made sure of it. Their permanent separation is mandated. She hasn’t seen Emily since they arrived. It’s maddening. It’s heartbreaking. She misses her wife and Nicky. She hasn’t been in control of her life for more than a year, and it feels like she was pushed out of an airplane without a parachute and she doesn’t know when she will finally hit the ground. She’s still falling.

“Smothers. Visitation.”

She has a black eye when she’s retrieved from her cell one morning. She’d carelessly reached for another inmate’s water cup, mistaking it for her own, and was promptly shown her mistake.

She checks the calendar on her wall; she doesn’t have an appointment with her attorney and Miles isn’t coming for another two weeks.

She’s shackled and led to the row of phone cubbies, and her blood runs cold as she sits down to find Sean Townsend waiting for her on the other side of the glass.

~*~*~*~*~*~

[bradnance]

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[uncontesteddocuments]

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[idabbleincrazy]

Metamour No More

Fandom: Smallville

Rating: T

Pairings: Lex Luthor/Helen Bryce, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor

Characters: Lex Luthor, Helen Bryce

Word Count: 370

Warnings: polyamory, au s4, canon divergent, not so evil Helen Bryce, heartbroken Helen, divorce, implied Clex (technically starting underage, but within consent laws for the state of Kansas), poly gone wrong

Summary: When Helen married Lex, she thought that Clark was the metamour. She's finally ready to admit she had that backwards.

A/N: this little ficlet came out of nowhere when looking over my pride edition card for fandom-free-bingo. I've always been on the fence about Helen since, even though she tried to kill Lex for the money, she never outwardly spilled Clark's secret. She's definitely one of those gray-area villains.

Square filled: It's time to make a choice ( @fandombingo - Reverse 1999 bingo), metamour ( @fandom-free-bingo - pride edition), left behind ( @fandom-free-bingo - plural edition)

She couldn't take it anymore. She was his wife, damn it! And yes, while she might have known exactly what the situation was when she'd said 'I do', she hadn't thought she'd actually be expected to endure her husband's dalliances with…him…for the past two years. Two years of knowing exactly why they slept in separate bedrooms. Two years of only sporadically being visited in her own bed, never invited to his, never waking to his sleeping form beside her. Two years of sleepless nights when she knew he was either in his own bed, wrapped around long, muscled limbs under silk sheets, or those long, muscled limbs wrapped around him under cheap cotton and flannel.

Helen strode into Lex's office, not bothering with her usual polite knock, crossing the room to his desk before he even looked up. She slapped a file of papers onto his desk.

"Your attorneys should be pleased by how very little I'm asking for." She turned to go, but paused after a step, asking over shoulder, "why did you even marry me, Lex?"

"I really did love you, Helen."

"Not enough. Not as much as you love Clark. Not as much as I needed you to."

"I thought I would, over time. I never meant to hurt you, I just thought I could have you both, and that we could all be happy this way."

Helen turned to face him again, willing away the tears building behind her eyes.

"Go to him, Lex. Be with him, just him. Don't do this again. The next poor sap might not be content with just ten percent of your holdings. The next one might try to kill you."

Without waiting for his response, Helen left, the solid thunk of the door closing behind her a fitting sound of finality as she made her way out of the mansion. Her bags were already fit into the trunk of the BMW X5, the rest of her belongings being packed up to be sent to the penthouse until she could find a place of her own.

Taking the keys from the butler, she slid into the driver's seat, ready to put this town, and the mistakes it represented, far behind her.

********

@leatafandom

[bethanydelleman]

I've noticed that the gentry tends to look down on lawyers. In P&P there's a whole paragraph where Caroline talks about how Lizzy has an uncle who's a lawyer and how fitting that makes her for Darcy since his uncle was a high ranking judge. And in Downton Abby the news that the new heir Matthew Crawley works as a lawyer is almost scandalous to them. Why is that?

Okay, short answer: There are two types of lawyers and Mr. Philips and Matthew Crawley (I'm assuming, it's been a minute since I watched DA) are the wrong type. Only one type was considered gentry.

Long Answer: There were actually SIX TYPES OF LAWYERS because there were three systems of law and two types of lawyers for each system. The basic difference was this, "middle class" lawyers did research and prepared for court cases, did wills etc. Today in England they would be called a solicitor. But at this time they were also called attorneys and proctors.

The gentry class lawyers, today called barristers, are the ones who actually argued in court and could become judges. They were also called serjeants and advocates. I think we can safely assume that John Knightley (Emma) is a barrister, or upper class lawyer. The other barrister is probably Mr. William Elliot from Persuasion.

Mr. Shepherd (Persuasion), Wickham's father and Mr. Philips (Pride & Prejudice) are all probably solicitors of some variety.

So why and what is the difference? The biggest difference is that solicitors did an apprenticeship and were paid directly by their clients. Barristers were paid a commission "gift" by a solicitor, which made their profession FANCY and HIGH CLASS. They also went to university and had to join the very exclusive barrister club (there were only about 600 of them in England at this time). The wife of a barrister could also be presented at court, but not a solicitor.

And of course, in keeping with this distinction, barristers made a lot more money. On average around £4000 a year, but up to £15,000!

The three systems of law were common, canon (church), and equity. Common law covered almost everything. Equity law a secondary system where someone who believed their common law verdict was too strict could seek relief, it also handled guardianship and things like trusts. Canon law dealt with divorce and wills, as well as special permission to do things in the church, like holding multiple livings.

By the way, divorce by criminal conversation (cheating) went through the common law court, canon court, and then went to parliament. It was not cheap or easy!

Common - Serjeants, attorneys

Equity - Barristers, solicitors

Canon - Advocates, proctors

Primary Source

Secondary (and free) Source

[axolotlsupremacyowo]

First Ten Lines

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway!

I was tagged by @udaberriwrites for this, and I decided to try it out! I shall be tagging @mikaharuka, @danceswithdarkspawn, @zkang288, @tsunderewatermelon, @hylianjo, @bleepbloopbotz, @mrsmungus, @kayedium-writes, @alpaca-clouds and @0nelittlebirdtoldme!

Now, let's get on shall we! I'll go from most recent to least.

A Chaotic Reunion (Fandom: Star Wars Rebels)

Lothal was a beautiful planet. During the time when Kanan still had his eyesight, he didn’t get the chance to admire the planet for very long, they were always too busy with their rebel scum shenanigans. When he did get the chance to admire Lothal, it wasn’t for very long, though Kanan still did appreciate the simple beauty of this planet. Even without his sight, Kanan still could enjoy the peacefulness of the planet they had decided to settle in. He could feel the soft, cool breeze on his skin, hear the rustling of the surrounding grassy plains as they swayed back and forth along with the wind. As Kanan sat on the porch of their house, he could even hear the sounds of a few critters scurrying about amidst the tall blades of grass.

The Reasons That I Love You (Fandom: Ace Attorney)

When Maya had first heard Franziska's real laugh, she fell in love even harder. She was watching a comedy movie with Franziska, something that Franziska had protested to at first, but eventually gave in. Despite her prior protests, Franziska seemed to be enjoying herself. And then it happened. Franziska laughed.

Orange Dyed Hair (Fandom: Stardew Valley)

Sebastian had been staring at Dickon’s hair for what felt like forever. Now he was to admit that he always liked how Dickon’s hair looked, despite the fact that he usually preferred dark cool colors over bright warm ones. Really, Dickon’s fluffy orange hair suited him, and his extroverted and kind of odd personality. Though sometimes, Sebastian wondered what Dickon would look like with other hair colors, especially dark colors. Sebastian didn’t have to imagine the last one.

The Things I Notice (Fandom: Ace Attorney)

The first thing Klavier noticed was the adorable habit Apollo had whenever he was thinking. Whenever Apollo was deep in thought, he would press his index finger to the bridge of his nose. It was a habit that Apollo did even when they weren’t in the courtroom, like whenever Klavier would give Apollo a nonsensical riddle. It was a small thing really, something that he should have not noticed, but he did. Klavier watched as Apollo did that same habit in the courtroom.

A Bold Gesture (Fandom: Ace Attorney)

Phoenix had no problems with PDA. While he wasn’t as lovey-dovey in public as Maya was with Franziska, Phoenix still loved to show the entire world how much he loved Edgeworth. Edgeworth appreciated it, he really did, but he still wasn’t used to being so openly affectionate with someone, especially Phoenix Wright.

Yours Truly, Franziska von Karma (Chapter 1, Fandom: Ace Attorney)

To my sweetest daughter Franziska, I know that the past few months have been difficult for you, Franziska. I’m sure that your father and I’s divorce has not come as a surprise, you’ve always been a smart girl, that still does not make it any less difficult for you. I’m sorry you ever had to see us fight, I’m sorry we ever dragged you into our arguments, it was immature of us and no child should ever go through that. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me, as I struggle to forgive myself for ever making you go through so much.

Ace Attorney: Maya Fey (Chapter 1, Fandom: Ace Attorney)

The blow had been enough to kill the woman, and she collapsed on the ground with a thud. A dark red puddle formed at the woman’s head, staining the floor of her cheap dingy apartment. The mechanical voice of the clock he was holding rang in his mind over and over again, becoming an unbearable constant ringing that hurt his ears. The man dropped the clock, and it let out a deafening thud as it hit the ground. There was no way the neighbors wouldn’t have been able to hear that. The once lively eyes of the woman now stared at him, dead and lifeless. It was proof that he was a murderer.

What Evil Looks Like (Fandom: Ace Attorney)

Franziska winced as she heard the sounds of her father and Edgeworth arguing. They argued often, so often that she should have been used to it at this point. But she wasn’t, she wasn’t used to it. Franziska wondered why Edgeworth didn’t just surrender to her father like she had, why he continued to fight against him in what was undeniably a losing battle. She heard the sounds of angry stomping, and then Edgeworth’s door slamming shut. Franziska tried to ignore any desire to go to Edgeworth, she knew better than to involve herself, knew better than to go against her father’s wishes. Sometimes, Franziska wondered what evil looked like.

The Garden at von Karma Estate (Chapter 1, Fandom: Ace Attorney)

Miles Edgeworth was a brilliant child, it was something he inherited from his father. He had a sharp mind, an insatiable curiosity of the world around him, and an absolute love for reading books. His father was Gregory Edgeworth, a rather popular defense attorney in the area. His mother he knew little to nothing about, all he knew was that she had supposedly died during childbirth. Gregory was proud of his son, and he would often show off to his peers just how brilliant Miles was. He would boast about the fact that Miles was reading books far above the reading comprehension of an average 10 year old. It was embarrassing for Miles, but it had always made his father happy.

Ain't No Sunshine When They're Gone (Fandom: Ace Attorney)

“Hey, Franziska?” Franziska was lying down on the bed next to Maya. She looked up from her book. “Yes, Maya Fey?” “Um…I need to tell you something.”

[rastika13]

Last night my husband hit my daughter so hard he left marks.

He hit her because he was mad she wouldn't settle down at bedtime and she kicked him.

My daughter is 3. Three years old. A TODLER and her father struck her , out of anger, hard enough to leave a hand print on her butt and legs.

He then told me *i* was an incompetent piece of shit mother and he'd keep her from me in the divorce.

I am in desperate need of an attorney who would work pro Bono or ver ver cheap. South Carolina.