#ghost game divorced couple

[nsdrawsstuff]

Have a shitty phone doodle I put way too much effort into coloring

[graymatterggfancomic]

A silly bounce mini-comics I drew a while ago for chapter 3~ also since it's fun to do more with these characters than just the comic. I like to draw Hiro's daydreams of his point of view of what's going on in the story. It's a fun way to play around with these guys more.

[simplyreiartblog]

This ship grew on me, and was inspirited by the Mario movie~

[oceantornadoo]

IDK! HEAR ME OUT THO!!!

Simon, staging the break in and what not so he could push you back into his arms??? INSANE!

Delicious story. Thank you for the food! <3

so originally when i made that last fic (which unexpectedly blew up tysm everyone) i added in the creepy elements almost on accident?? but this and another reply has me thinking...

tw: slight humiliation (but you'll like it)=

simon riley wasn't a bad man. he also wasn't a bad husband. at least that's what he told himself.

when you had presented him with those divorce papers a bit ago (13 months and 4 days, but who was counting), he thought it was a bluff. a joke. he had gone too far in your last argument, and that was your reaction. when he told you he'd go to therapy, you stared at him with a look he'd only see on men in the battlefield. dead all the way through, a walking husk. so he signed them and went to therapy anyways.

the whole time, this whole 13-month break, where you had been 'building a new life' or whatever, he had been planning. internalizing the commentary his therapist would make, and then spitting it back out to you while you moved out of his place. every time you seemed to forget one extra box, and who's to say if he hid a couple in his room? he had a plan.

over time, simon really seemed to have learned so much from therapy. so much about communication. he had become open and welcoming, far from that man who would respond to your complaints with hard stares and a lack of words. so maybe you met for coffee a couple of times and that's how he knew about the cafe by your new place. maybe that's how he tailed you one night after a date, just to make sure this new guy didn't try anything (and not to figure out your unit number). whatever he did, he played a dangerous game by letting you have this illusion of freedom while balancing his presence in your life, just enough to make you want more. after weeks and week of stagnant progress, he needed one extra push. something small, not even a shove.

and if he happened to mention your unit number to a bunch of shady guys that hung out in the alley by your building? happened to brag about your pretty pussy and sweet-smelling panties? maybe mention your habit of not locking the window when you left for work? who's to say. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

and now here you were, back in his arms where you belonged. a little frightened but comforted in the knowledge that he could protect you. the ghost wasn't shed when he took his mask off, but you didn't need to know that.

--

your body was so used to being in simon's arms you didn't even realize you had been grinding on him for the past ten minutes. his boxers you wore were sticky with arousal as you grinded against his clothed cock in the dark. even in your dream, it was simon underneath you, no one else. "si." you panted, a near-whisper that only a military man could have heard. "dove?" he adjusted your sleeping positions, tossing the covers to give you more room to maneuver against him.

"i know i said that thing about the line not being crossed." he gave you a low chuckle. silly little girl. you had finally realized how much you needed him and he was going to milk you for all you were worth. "and?" you stopped. shit. he needed to seem more responsive. he moved you from his thigh to his boner using one arm, the other one snaking its way under your shirt to stroke your back. you moaned as he massaged the tension from the day's earlier events away, giving you sweet relief. the sweetness of the massage made a hard contrast to the friction in your core as he rubbed you against his hardened cock.

"spit it out, baby." he growled. "can you-fuck." his hand had moved to the back of your neck now, holding it in a tight grip. his hand was so large he could feel the pulse points on either side of your jaw, heart racing. finally. "can you get me off? just this once?" he snorted, moving you up and down against him faster, dragging your sensitive clit over and over. "what's the magic word?" he flipped you both around, pressing his body weight on top of you.

simon turned the light on, wanting to see how needy you were. you were panting, shirt sticky with sweat as your chest moved up and down with exertion. he hiked up your shirt and took off your boxers, exposing your sticky cunt to the cool air. he took a sniff of the fabric, noting your small gasp as if you didn't know how obsessed he was with you already. "magic word." your mouth dropped. guess you weren't getting off that easily. "please, simon." he clucked his tongue at that. "ghost?" he left out a short laugh, arms reaching out to tug his shirt off of you. your nipples were so hard, aching to be pinched and sucked just how you liked them. "not ghost." he reached over to his nightstand, pulling something out of the drawer. he fumbled with his hand for a second, then held yours up to the light as he slipped something on it.

"husband." the words left your mouth in a whoosh, eyes transfixed on your wedding ring that was on your hand. the one you had flung at him after he complained about the divorce papers, the one you said you'd rather die than wear again. and here it was, right back on your finger, sparkling in the lamplight.

simon captured your mouth in a rough kiss, entering you with his ring and middle finger at the same time. "so willing for your husband, hm? all puffy and wet. look at your cunt, darling." you both looked down at your pussy at the same time. it was squelching, your vibrator sessions not holding a candle to what your ex husband could do to you. you were almost embarrassed by how desperate your pussy looked, clit enlarged from its earlier friction. his fingers worked in and out of you, wedding ring covered in slick. you watched as he pressed his thumb to your clit in small circles, a tightening sensation in your lower belly rising to the surface. "simon, si-fuck" he gave your pussy a small slap, pulling his fingers out as you addressed him incorrectly. "husband, please." he entered you again roughly, drawing a low moan from you. he captured your nipple in his mouth, teething it just enough to make you hurt. punishment.

"please please please i'm right ther-" he pressed hard against your clit and sent you careening off the edge into your orgasm, back bowing off the bed. simon gave you small love bites as you recovered, hand still working your cunt to draw out your orgasm.

finally, he removed his fingers and drew back from you, forcing eye contact. he put both in his mouth, moaning at the taste of your arousal mixed with the metal from the wedding band. your jaw was still open, looking at him like you had never seen him before. like the sheep's skin had finally been removed, and now only the wolf remained.

"let's get you to bed, wife."

[starry-bi-sky]

What would a mother not do for her child What lengths would a mother not go There's a bond that exists between mother and child With no end to how strong it can grow It's a promise for life between mother and child It begins from the moment of birth.

================

She is six years old, and standing on the porch at her Auntie Alicia’s cabin. She is six years old, and holding an old rifle in her hands, standing at the railing and pointing the nozzle at a large target a couple feet away. There’s a pair of old ear muffs covering her ears. Behind her is her daddy and her sister, and Auntie Alicia. She can’t see them. 

Danielle Martha Fenton is six years old, and her momma has her arms wrapped warmly around her, keeping the gun steady for her. It’s heavy and the butt digs into her shoulder uncomfortably, and she feels nothing but determined. And nervous. 

Her momma was teaching her and Jazzy how to shoot, and they’re down in Arkansas to visit Auntie Alicia for her second “Divorce-iversary” as Auntie calls it. She keeps a hunting rifle in her gun safe for the rabbits that like to nibble on her garden. She mostly grows rhubarb, which goes untouched. But her carrots and greens and other veggies like to be tempting snacks for the game. 

Regardless, she is six years old and learning how to shoot. Her momma and her daddy (mostly her daddy) have been banned from every shooting range outside of Amity Park in a hundred mile radius. So Auntie is the best place to learn, or so momma says. 

Danny thinks it's just an excuse to see her sister, not that she's complaining. She loves visiting Auntie.  

She’s already seen Jazzy do this, her momma told her before the muffs went on to shoot when ready. No use trying to fire when you’re not; you can’t afford to miss when shooting ghosts. 

Danny breathes out steady, just like momma taught her, and quells her trembling little fingers. She focuses down the barrel, and pulls the trigger. 

Immediately, the recoil throws her off, the side of the gun that her cheek was resting on knocks against her skin, harsh enough to bruise if it weren’t for her momma’s steady hands holding onto her. The bang of the gun startles her more than she thought it would, and her heart leaps up and runs a jackrabbit through her chest. 

The gun is carefully slipped out of her hands, and Danny lets it go easily, her cheek smarting in pain and her eyes wide and following up to momma. Momma turns the safety on, and with a gentle hand, pushes against her chest. Danny takes a few steps back, and slips the ear muffs off her head. 

Mommy is smiling big at her, something that Danny can’t help but replicate on her own face as her heart swells. “Did I get it, momma?” She asks, watching as she passes the gun off to Auntie Alicia, who steps over to take it.

“I’m going to go see, sweetie, but I think you did.” Momma coos, before planting both her hands on the porch railing and, in a single leap, vaults over the side and onto the grass. She’s dressed all comfortable for the summer heat, with her hair all tied back and in shorts and a tank top and nice boots. Danny’s ribs swell hopefully, and she stands on her tiptoes to watch her walk over.

“I’ll be hard-pressed to believe if you didn’t, Martha Mae,” Auntie tells her, grinning like a cat, “that was a damn good shot.” 

‘Martha Mae Knight’ was Danny’s granny’s name. Auntie Alicia calls her that because of her middle name — and because, by her words, she has her momma’s weird-shaped eyebrows and piercing blue eyes. The kind that could scare a hawk into singing like a robin. It was Danny’s favorite nickname ever.

Daddy laughs brightly, the sound painful on her ears but twice as nice, and despite the distance, Momma whirls her head around to shoot Auntie a glare; “Language, Alicia. Not around my girls.” She warns. Her accent always comes through when they’re around Auntie. It’s Danny’s favorite thing to listen to. 

“Do you think so, auntie?” Danny says, bright-eyed and ever-optimistic. Auntie Alicia nods fiercely as Momma finally reaches the target and searches for the bullet hole. Daddy then comes up behind her, still laughing, and claps a hand onto her shoulder so hard that it makes her knees hurt.

“Of course she did!” Dad boasts, as bright as the sun and twice as warm. He shakes Danny affectionately, wobbling her on her feet and pulling her straight into his side. She goes so willingly with a burble of giggles. “She’s got the eyes of a Fenton! And our family are darn good shots.”

Auntie eyes him up and down, her smile immediately fading off into a pressed line. “I’m sure you mean she’s got the eyes of a Knight. You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn at twenty paces, Jack Fenton.” 

Jazzy holds back giggles from where she’s standing by the door, her ear muffs in hand, and Danny watches her Daddy’s dark eyes immediately narrow. Just like Auntie’s, his smile tapers off into a frown. 

Before he can say anything, there’s a cheer from the yard, and they all turn to Momma clapping her hands in delight. 

Danny immediately pricks her ears up, and would’ve darn near rushed over to the railing if it weren’t for her Daddy’s hand on her shoulder. She yells instead, excitement thrumming like a hummingbird against her ribs, “Did I hit it, momma?!” 

Momma beams at her with all the pride in the world, “You sure did, Danny!” And she turns to press her finger against the target, right on the inside red ring of the battered old bag. “Right here, sweet girl!” 

There are cheers from all around, and Danny’s heart bursts inside her lungs with shiny, sunshine glee. She puffs her chest out big, and smiles so wide it hurts the cheek where the gun smacked her. Her Daddy shakes again, squeezing her tight against his side in a hug that Danny happily reciprocates. 

“What’d I tell you, Martha Mae?” Auntie tells with a big wink and a wide grin, the gun still gripped tight in her hands as Momma makes her way back over. “You got a Knight’s eye.” 

When Momma makes it back over the railing, she hugs Danny tight and praises her shot. Danny looks her in the eyes and chases the feeling, and asks to shoot again.

[creativeashproductions]

Constellations // Wally Clark

IN WHICH: reader is a secret ghost at Split River High School attached to the roof where Wally stumbles onto for solitude. With the new arrival of Maddie Nears a year later a secret comes out.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of a undisclosed medical condition, divorce, angst, and fluff

Words: 2.4k

A/N: Of course it’s a ghost show that revives this blog of writing. Am I surprised? No. Is Julie? Definitely not.

Masterlist

You’d have never anticipated the sound of Luke Bryan’s Country Girl being an okay soundtrack to watching the stars. But you’d also never expected discovering the afterlife so soon. Occasionally, you would hear a mixture of the living and the dead on the ground or through an open window, but you typically stayed on the roof.

It had been the hangout spot for the volleyball team when you were alive. The championship game had been the last time a living foot, other than maintenance, had stepped on this roof.

Most of the team had graduated, and the broken doors that couldn’t hold up against the wind were changed. So now it was only you. Reliving the excitement and stupid teenage decisions. And avoiding Mr. Martin and his afterlife support group because he was unsettling, to say the least.

 “This spot taken?” Your head lolled to the side, finding a fellow dead jock standing above you.

Wally Clark had discovered you on the fifteenth anniversary of his father’s not coming to the Homecoming game. He’d wanted a quiet place and one where Janet wouldn’t follow.

2022 Day After Homecoming Game

The door slammed from the stairwell slammed open, and the muffled sound of sniffling could be heard. Then, the shuffling of sneakers came to an abrupt stop.

“Oh. Sorry.”

Your eyes left the book in your hands to the tall teen towering over you. One of the longer-term ghosts residing at Split River High School.

 “I-I didn’t know anyone used the roof. Are you new?” 

“Nope. Been residing in the afterlife awhile now.” You responded, leaning against the roof’s edge, “Proceed for whatever you were here for.”

Whatever emotional breakdown he was about to have ceased in favour of plopping right down beside you. His head shifting more in your peripheral. He froze when your fingers stopped moving in page-turning.

“Oh, sorry.” He leaned away sheepishly, “Am I annoying you?”

Your brows furrowed, “I’ve read the book a few times. So what brings you to my humble death place.”

“You died up here? Wouldn’t we have heard about-?”

“I didn’t die up here.” You interrupted him to shift to face him fully, “You’re the guy the stadium is named after, right?”

“Wally Clark.” The ghost said, holding his hand out. You exchanged your name in response. Wally slowly repeated your name as if savouring it.

“So seriously, are you okay? You were crying-“

“I died on the football field in 1984. Last night was the first time my dad wasn’t there.” Wally breathed, tilting his head to stare at the sky, “It really hits home that time is going by, and I’m standing still.”

You nudged his knee with your own, “I’m sorry about that. You’re welcome to hang out here to get away.”

“That’d be nice. I feel like all the ghosts expect me to be the outgoing, always happy guy.”

“How was the dance?” You asked as Wally settled on the ground beside you. The ends of his white bowtie hung loosely, and his suit jacket draped across his lap.

“It’s alright. Could have been better.” He spoke, dropping his arm around your shoulders to tug you into his side, “Simon persuaded the DJ to play a couple real hits. One day I’m gonna convince you to go with me.”

Your lips twitched. It was a pastime of Wally’s trying to get you to join in with everyone, especially with the whole drama with the new girl. Thankfully he understood and respected your decision to keep away.

You hadn’t spent years in secret from the support group for no reason. Instead, you existed peacefully in their obliviousness on the roof.

“Nah, I much prefer spending time up here.” You grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Maddie settling in?”

“She’s adjusting as well as she can. Rhonda’s warming up to her. The whole thing she had with Simon is nuts still.”

Maddie Nears, aka the newbie, had shown up suddenly in the afterlife with no memory of her death. Or the events leading up. The pool of suspects is deep, and the desperation to be found alive is strong. 

As he relayed the new development, you tried to think of anything but what you had done today. How do you tell your dead boyfriend something that makes Maddie and Simon’s communication seems like child’s play?

“-What about your day?” Wally questioned, moving so you’re leaning your back against his chest. 

You sighed happily when his arms came to wrap around your shoulders and press his lips to your head. 

“I snuck down to the lost and found for a new book. Mina left a couple things for me too.” 

The friendship you had with the ghost of the stagehand mind boggled Wally. Mina hadn’t left the theatre since the stage light fell on her in the late ’80s. She was eccentric, to say the least, but the only ghost other than Wally that knew about you.

“How? She always screams at us.” Wally chuckled, “Maddie’s the first that cracked through.”

“I got her a script for a production she loves and let her direct me on her birthday.” You hummed, crossing your ankles. Your eyes flinched open in perfect sync with Wally’s tensing up.

“How did you get a script-“Wally trailed off, staring at the stars twinkling under the night sky, “Whoa, wait.”

Wally’s mind flickered to the conversation with Maddie after talking with Mina.

“There’s another ghost. Mina mentioned something about me not being the first ghost outlier. That me talking to Simon isn’t earth shattering.”

Wally’s eyes swept from Ursa Major to your e/c eyes, refusing to lock with his dark brown.

“Can you talk to the living?” Wally demanded, shifting away. The space he created cracks your heart more.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Maddie’s the only one. I can just…sorta leave the school grounds?” You trailed off with a wince. The betrayal is a wicked shattering force to your bubble with the former football player.

“…you can leave the school? And not be slammed back to where you died?!” Wally’s fists went straight into his dark strands. The hair being tugged under his stress.

“Because I didn’t technically die here. I had a health condition and was declared clinically dead a few times. So, wherever my heart stopped, and I escaped, that death destination is a place where I could go. It hurts.”

Wally scoffed, blinking, “We spent the last year, and you kept that a secret. You never told me anything about how you died or this huge thing for over a year. I’ve told you everything.”

Your lips parted to respond, but the door was already slamming behind Wally on his descent back into the building. His long legs eating up half the stairwell by the time you’d opened the door.

“Wally! Wally, wait!” You shouted, sprinting down the stairs, “I swear I was going to tell you!”

The expression on his face was enough to freeze you on the last step, “Don’t you have another place to haunt.”

Your mouth dropped open, watching him disappear in the sea of living students still on school grounds. Your eyes find the blue irises of Maddie Nears. Surprise lighting up in her gaze. Your expression twisted before turning on your heel to flee the area.

The last thing you wanted was to talk with the girl you were assigned to show around on her first day. Stupid school tradition pairing a senior with a freshman.

“Hey!”

Maddie popped around the corner to a dead end where you were nowhere to be found. Instead, you’d slipped into a space where you popped up in a different area of Split River with a sheer scream at the pain.

The fight with Wally kept you from returning to the school grounds. You didn’t know a particular ghost was spending hours on the roof anxiously waiting for you. Instead, you were watching your half-sister playing with her Barbie doll in the backyard of your childhood home.

Your arms tugged your legs to your chest. You rarely visited your family home since you watched the paramedics had arrived at 3am four years ago to remove your corpse from the house. 

“Ava!” 

Your head watched the little girl with piggy tails perk up, hearing your shared father’s voice. Your eyes take in the person you miss most in the world. It always hurt seeing the dimness your death had caused in his eyes.

The streaks of grey in his hair and beard showed the grief of losing you had caused. The guilt he barely masked from your sister. 

“Daddy!” Ava beamed, diving into his arms, “Are we taking Sissy flowers?”

Your lip quivered, hearing the adoration coating each word Ava spoke with that lisp. Speech therapy and growing up making the lisp less pronounced. Ava had barely been two when you died. 

The product of your father finding love again with a wonderful person who loved you and happily stepped into a parent role. You’d lucked out with getting a really great step-parent and a half-sister but a shitty hand for health.

“Absolutely. Do you think Sissy would like daisies this time?” Your grin grew, listening to Ava burst into excitement. 

You watched as the car disappeared around the corner before entering the house. Your room barely had any dust from Riley’s insistence on keeping it clean. Sometimes Ava would toddle in with a toy and curl in your bed to sleep.

Your clothing is still hung in the closet, your computer on your desk and all your pictures on the corkboard. Your phone was already safely tucked in your pocket with the charging cord in your backpack from the first visit back to the house.

The last time you visited your home was Ava’s birthday a few months ago. Long enough, the air freshener in your room had changed to the scent you loved during springtime. So it was time to rotate out a few items of clothing you wore. 

Your eyes lingered on the picture of your volleyball team wearing matching homemade t-shirts. A year after you died, they got together for a volleyball charity event in your name. Last you heard, two of them had become nurses, and one was on the career path to research your condition.

The following photo was of your mom holding you in her arms with a beaming grin matching yours. You hoped the move to Hawaii brought that smile back. You hoped Matthew was everything she deserved. You hoped she learnt how to live life again. 

“I miss you.” You murmured, pressing your fingers against her smiling face. 

The tears obscured your vision and the pacing form of your boyfriend when you opened the rooftop door. Your breathing gasping when his arms wrapped tight around your body.

“I am so sorry.” Wally mumbled in the crook of your neck, “Where were you? I’ve been up here for the last three days.”

“I went home.” You whispered, pressing your forehead to his chest, “I-I don’t leave often. It hurts when I leave a place I died, like the universe or some bullshit forgets this isn’t the only place I died. So it’s like I’m gonna be spit out back in my death place here before I’m in my destination.”

You barely noticed when Wally tugged you to sit in the same spot he first met and talked to you. The roof’s gravel gives the feeling of digging in your jeans; you gave up trying to explain the metaphysical world a year after your death. Instead, Wally listened as you opened up the pieces of yourself you had kept to yourself.

“I was born healthy and lived healthily for a few years before I started getting sick. It broke my parents’ hearts. By the time I was sixteen, I had spent half my life in hospitals and doctors’ offices. Promises of working treatments and possibly experimental trials.” Your gaze stared off into the distance, “It was just noise by the time I graduated. I knew my body had a couple more miles before it would give out.”

“How are you….”

“I collapsed in the gym. I was clinically dead for a minute, but it was enough for this school to be a death destination. The mall once, the hospital twice, and the talk of transplants came around. Finally, I died in my backyard. It was late, and I was alone outside.”

You vividly remembered screaming beside your corpse. Sobbing when you heard your dad break down, cradling you in his arms. Him calling you your childhood nickname and the one you heard in home videos of ‘baby girl’.

“That’s why you love the roof so much. You died watching the stars.” Wally whispered, tilting his head to kiss your temple. His fingers toying with the sweater with the volleyball team logo.

“I did.” You chuckled, “I have a little sister named Ava. She’s five now. She has minimal memories of me, but her favourite thing is bringing flowers to my grave. This past visit was daisies. My dad remarried when I was in middle school, and my mom a couple years before I died.”

“Your parents still live in Split River?”

“My dad and Riley live in my childhood home with Ava. I think they’re talking about maybe having another baby. My mom took my death the worst. Her older brother died in 1995 with his band members. My mom moved to Hawaii with her husband. Split River had too many memories for her. So when Matt was offered a job there, they left.”

“Ava.” Wally hummed, “I like that name.”

“Maddie knew me.” You offered after laying with Wally for a while in comfortable silence. His fingers draw shapes on your bare back under the sweater. His fingers briefly halted before moving again, “When you were alive, did Split River do this thing where a senior was paired with a freshman?”

“Oh yeah. I got paired up with this insanely smart guy. He went on to found this hugely popular website like that Facebook you showed me.”

“Myspace? You got paired with one of the founders?” You spoke, blinking at his grin, “Well, when I was a senior, I got paired with Maddie. Before her dad died, he worked with mine. So, I knew her at work BBQs.”

“Speaking about Maddie…do you want to re-meet her and meet my friends?”

Your eyes narrowed, “This is dues for keeping the secret.”

“Oh, 100%. Secret stays between us, but yeah, you’re definitely meeting my friends. You should check out the support group, Mr. M isn't too bad.”

Tag List:

@websterssrss

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 8

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, Diane is her own warning, Grey's Anatomy & alcoholism, uhm... hard to explain the last one without spoilering. You'll be fine 😂

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Oh boy, I'll save you guys long explanations. Life got in the way, so let's just all be glad we're back here 😅 Some of you brilliant sleuths already caught breadcrumbs of my scheming in the last part, so here's The One You've Been Waiting For...

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds

“Where is she?”

Your boot soles thudded on the floor as you dashed inside the station, your questioning look aimed at Jenny, who leaned against her desk with crossed arms and a stern brow. Beau was hot on your heels, just jogging in behind you. You practically raced him from the car across the parking lot.

“She’s in Interrogation Room 3,” Jenny informed you.

“Is she cuffed?” Beau asked, his voice carrying a hint of anger caused by concern. He had a whole car ride to the department to rile himself up and let his head spin with reasons. None of them soothing; all of them terrifying.

Jenny shook her head. “No. She’s not officially under arrest and hasn’t confessed yet, either. ‘Sides, she willingly came in and just all too happily sat down. She’s clearly playing a game. I’d be careful.”

“Alright, thanks,” Beau said and looked at you. “How you wanna do this?”

“Let’s just go in and talk to her. See what she has to say and what angle she’s playing,” you suggested, and Beau agreed with a nod, both of you falling into step as you headed down the hallway.

“My favorite couple. There you are,” Diane greeted you with a smirk that could only be described as lunacy as soon as you and Beau walked into the interrogation room. “Hope I didn’t disturb your evening.”

“Not at all,” you replied with an easy smile and took a seat across from her, Beau settling down right next to you and leaning back in his chair. “What can we do for you, Diane?”

“Well, I figured I come here before you call in the cavalry. There’s no need for all this drama. I have a feeling you two have enough of that,” she quipped and grinned devilishly at the both of you.

“So, you waltzed in here to confess to twenty-four murders?” Beau arched a disbelieving eyebrow at her.

“Oh, nice try. But I won’t confess to anything until you two have told me a little more about yourself,” Diane announced cheekily. “You talk – I talk. My rules. My game. Let's be honest. You don't have anything to nail me down. Zero, really. You two need this. I'm giving you a win, Sheriff.”

Beau and you shared a look. Neither of you liked this, but you supposed you had to play along if it led to a confession. You nodded at Diane. “Fine, what d’you wanna know?”

Diane grinned in triumphant satisfaction and folded her arms on the metal table, curiously leaning forward. “Look, I think it’s cute you two found each other… after divorce and death, of course. ‘Cause who likes a cheater, right?” she posed theoretically, her smirk getting wider. “I guess, for me at least, it’s just hard to believe there’ve never been any feelings before that. Seems kinda odd to me.”

You smiled wryly. “Well, for me at least, it seems kinda odd and, frankly, hard to believe some psychotic bitch would murder over twenty innocent people just because her husband was a cheating dirtbag. Yet, here we are.”

“Here we are indeed, Agent,” Diane snarked with a pleased smile. “And I’d be wary throwing the word ‘innocent’ around so carelessly. After all, just look at you two. I mean, I’m not saying you’ve planned this little hot love affair, but c'mon! What, no lingering looks? No fluttering hearts, dirty thoughts, or wistful what-ifs?”

You remained cool and held your gaze stern. No quiver of a lip, no twitch of an eye, no flinch of a muscle betrayed you. But Beau must’ve signaled something when Diane’s eyes drifted to him. She tilted her head with a delighted sneer forming on her face. Your heart halted in your chest. You knew she’d locked in on a target like a lioness on the prowl.

“Whoop, Sheriff Arlen, do you have something to tell me? You seem awfully quiet and… shifty,” Diane prodded the tip of her metaphorical knife into his ribcage, prying it open just enough to see inside. “If her husband was your partner, you must feel at least a little guilty for fucking his wife as soon as he was six-feet-under. Did you have feelings for her when they were still married? You did, didn’t you? I wonder what he’d say if he were still alive.”

“Okay, enough,” you snapped and drew a line in the sand, noticing how Beau withdrew more and more upon her words. She was getting to him and enjoying it. “Neither of us has done anything wrong, got it?”

Diane chuckled amusedly. “Sheriff Arlen, you should learn from your girlfriend here. She’s better at acting than you are. Or is it lying?” Her questioning gaze turned to you.

“What d’you want, huh?” you prompted with stern annoyance, hoping to take some heat off of Beau. “You want some weird confession, so you can throw one of us into a bunker?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Agent. We’re just having a friendly chat among colleagues, getting to know each other.” She grinned, her icy gray eyes sparkling with devilish joy. She leaned closer to Beau, circling in on him. She could smell he was close to a breaking point and aimed her sledgehammer at him. “Tell me, Sheriff, were you happy when your partner died? I mean, you must’ve been. She was finally free and all yours for the taking. Is that why your marriage crumbled so soon after his death? Why you followed her all the way to Mexico, leaving your family behind? Be honest, did you lead her husband into that warehouse on purpose?”

“Shut up!” Beau yelled and bristled, his voice trembling with anger as did every single muscle of his. He jumped up from his seat and kicked the chair roughly against the wall before storming out and slamming the door loudly behind him.

Shocked, you rose from your seat as well and threw Jenny a worried look through the one-way mirror. As you followed Beau outside, you could still hear Diane’s heinous laugh.

November 2020

‘¿Recuerdas que en tu infancia creías en cuentos de hadas? En la fantasia de lo que podría ser tu vida. Tu vestido blanco, un príncipe azul que te llevaría en sus brazos a un castillo sobre una colina…’

A knock on your door rattled you and snapped your attention away from the small, old TV in your room. The image was grainy at best, and you were sure the television itself was bought sometime in the early 2000s. Yet, you still managed to hook it up to your laptop and stream a few shows. Drinking and watching television was all you had for entertainment down here whenever you were on the lay-low and had some time off.

Oh, and there was the crying, of course.

You hurriedly blew your nose in one of the tissues in your hand and wiped the tears out of your eyes. Bolting into the bathroom first, you did a quick check of your appearance in the stained, wonky mirror. Well, good enough. Who were you trying to impress? You were a grieving widow. People expected you to look like shit.

Beau blinked at you as the door opened. He offered you a friendly smile, although he could tell you had cried again. You never admitted it, always telling him you were fine and brushing away any and all of his concerns. But your red and puffy eyes were hard to hide and even harder to ignore when he stopped by your room at night. It broke his heart every single time.

“Hey, I know you haven’t eaten dinner yet, darlin’,” he said and tried not to sound too scolding. Since Randy’s death you’d been basically on a grief diet, although you seemed to be more willing to eat since you’d come to Mexico. But Beau had taken it upon himself to ensure your stomach was always full.

“Uh, thanks, but I’m not hungry,” you said quietly and were already keen to close the door to get rid of him again. Sometimes it worked. Most times it didn’t.

Beau frowned and already slid his boot between the door and its jamb. “You know I’m not leaving till you ate. And since you’re being particularly difficult tonight, I’m just gonna have to watch you till that whole bag is empty. Now, trust me. This ain’t fun for me, either. Don’t make me spoon-feed you and do airplane noises. It’s been a while, but I have experience in that field. You wanna hear my lecture about your essential vitamins and minerals again?”

You sighed dramatically and were close to a whine. “Beau, I’m really not in the mood right now. Can you please just–” You stopped when you noticed the man wasn’t even listening to you. With a curiously furrowed brow, he cocked his head and leaned inside your room with a skillful weight shift, his green eyes focusing on the TV.

‘Vamos a domir a tu casa esta noche.’

‘¿Qué?’

‘¿Por qué siempre dormirmos en mi casa? ¿O no tienes una?’

“What are you watching?” Beau had fully stepped inside your room, and you knew your probability of kicking him out again sunk by the second. You sighed once more and closed the door behind you two.

“Grey’s Anatomy in Spanish. I already know the episodes, so I figured I could learn a little. I already forgot most of it from school,” you replied.

“Huh. Never watched this show.” Yet, he sat down on the foot of your bed and seemed hooked. His eyes were glued to the screen, brow lightly creased above the bridge of his nose that showed his interest. If you had popcorn, you would’ve handed it to him.

You rolled your eyes a little but smiled nonetheless. Randy had been the same. He’d teased you for watching till he caught one episode and was immediately enthralled. Afterward, you weren’t allowed to watch a single episode without him anymore.

“You wanna watch with me?” You grabbed the bag of food and crawled onto your bed, leaning against the headboard. You quickly discarded the tissues that were strewn all over your mattress. Luckily, he hadn’t noticed them yet, or you would’ve received a look full of worry and pity.

“Sure.” Beau nodded and smiled at you over his shoulder, happy you had decided to eat, after all. “So, what’s this show about?”

“A hospital in Seattle. But honestly, everyone’s just sleeping with everyone…”

It took a while till you had explained all the intricacies of each relationship to him. Fortunately, this was only the first season. He gasped when you informed him the show had seventeen of it – so far. By the end of the episode, he had joined you by the headboard, sitting next to you as you shared the remaining tacos.

‘Me gusta el helado de café, whisky de malta de una sola destilería, de vez en cuando un buen habano.’

“Ah! Now that’s a home,” Beau declared with a broad and longing smile, raising his beer bottle to the TV. “You know, I’ve always wanted an Airstream trailer exactly like this.”

“Uh-huh. Un remolque.”

His brow quirked. “Is that Spanish for trailer?”

“Yes, he just said it. You need to pay attention,” you chided playfully and took a sip from your beer.

“Hey, look, I’m just glad I can keep up with who’s sleeping with who, alright? Don’t need to add Spanish vocabulary to the mix,” Beau quipped, making you giggle. “I actually almost bought a trailer like that when me and Carla first got married.”

You grinned knowingly. “Lemme guess, Carla said no and almost shot you?”

Beau snorted a laugh. “Ha! Yeah, she definitely came close that time. But Emily was already on the way, so I guess it would’ve been impractical with a baby.”

“Smart choice.”

As your eyes traveled back to the TV, Beau’s gaze landed on you. He watched as your cheeks moved when you laughed with your whole heart. How your pink, full lips sealed around the bottle opening whenever you sipped on your beer. How your shimmering hair fell into your face in waves as you leaned forward and hugged your knees. Lingering looks.

“You wanna open a bottle of tequila with me and watch another episode?” you asked with a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looked back at him over your shoulder.

“Hm? Oh, uh, yeah. Let’s do that,” he agreed, swallowing lightly. A part of him almost felt caught in his shameless staring. But he was willing to do anything as long as it kept you from crying yourself to sleep for another night.

Jumping up from the bed, you sauntered over to the mini bar and bent down, hauling a bottle of tequila from the small fridge you’d stored in there earlier. Beau tried not to stare at the curve of your ass and how tightly those dark blue jeans hugged it. But he couldn’t control his heart as it undeniably accelerated and thumped loudly against its prison. Fluttering hearts.

Four episodes and two Margarita pitchers in, you stretched with a yawn, barely able to keep your eyes open. You glanced at Beau with an amused smile as he was still transfixed by the TV and heavily engaged in the show.

“I’m beat. You mind if we turn in?” you checked and laughed a little when his green eyes blinked at you in surprise.

“Oh, uh, sure. I’ll head back to my room,” he said, nodding. “You, uh, wanna do this every night, maybe? I mean, it’s not like there’s much else to do here… We could hang out and binge-watch, as the kids say. Netflix and chill.”

You snorted. “Beau, that’s not what you think it means…”

His brow furrowed. “Well, what does it mean?”

“Sex,” you said bluntly and watched his mouth open and close. It was rare to render that man speechless.

Beau pursed his lips, his cheeks redder than the desert sand. “Yeah, uh, no Netflix and chill, then.” He cleared his throat a couple of times while you stifled your laughs. “Can I just finish this episode before I go?”

You giggled, getting up from the bed. “Sure. Knock yourself out. I need some bathroom time before, anyways.”

As you sauntered into the small, dingy bathroom, you briefly glanced back and saw Beau’s focus was already back on the sexy doctors. You laughed a little, shaking your head before you began to wash your face and slip into your pajamas, which were just a pair of sweat shorts and an old college shirt of Randy’s. Go Cougars!

Unbeknownst to you, Beau’s gaze didn’t remain on the TV for long. At first, he only caught a glimpse of you from his periphery in the bathroom mirror through the cracked door. For a moment, he stared, unable to tear his eyes away as you shed out of your shirt. But when your bra came off as well, he averted his eyes shamefully back to the TV. His mind, however, still wandered, incapable of shaking the image of you, various unholy ideas gathering for a villainous summit. Dirty thoughts.

‘Así que, elígeme a mí. Escógeme a mí. Ámame a mí…’

“Still hooked, huh?” Amused, you arched a brow at him as you strolled out of the bathroom and saw he was still enchanted by the magic of dramatic television.

“He’s gonna go back to the cheatin’ ex, isn’t he?” Beau asked without looking at you. He sat on the bed with arms crossed and his brow scrunched.

You pressed your lips together as you smothered another laugh. “Oh, no spoilers from me, but it’s a bit of a ride. And we haven’t even gotten to Dr. Caliente yet,” you said, grinning.

You waited a moment for Beau to catch the hint that you wanted to go to bed. But soon you realized it wasn’t going to happen. The man had done a full deep dive into that show, and there was no way of pulling him back out.

“You know, you can stay and keep watching if you want to. I don’t mind. I’ve been sleeping with the TV on, anyways,” you said.

His gaze met yours, brow finally rising with realization. “Oh, uh, sorry. No, I can go. Let you catch some–” His eyes wandered back to the TV before he shook his head and tried to refocus. He blushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s really okay. You can stay. I don’t care,” you assured him with a soft smile and climbed under the covers, resting your head on the pillow. You switched off the lamp by your bedside table, the blue glow of the screen remaining the only source of light.

“Maybe just this episode,” he mumbled, his shoulders deflating as he sunk back into a more comfortable position again.

“This is nice,” you noted with a blissful sigh and closed your eyes. “I kinda hate being alone.”

Beau watched you as you peacefully fell asleep, the TV suddenly forgotten. For once you didn’t cry yourself to sleep. Tears, nightmares, and loneliness gone. And he wondered – what it would be like if he watched you fall asleep every night. What if he was still there in the morning. What if he could hold you as you wore his shirt. Then, the guilt came swiftly like the rising tide and washed those thoughts away. Wistful what-ifs.

“What the hell happened in there?” you hissed as quietly as possible as you caught up with Beau in the lowly lit hallway of the station. Luckily, the other cops had enough sense to stay away and keep their distance while the two of you hashed things out.

Beau dragged a hand over his face, kept his palm clasped on his mouth as he paced in a circle. You were surprised he hadn’t punched a wall yet, judging by the tension in his shoulders.

“You can’t let her get to you,” you reminded him gently, your face softening when you noticed how distraught and upset he really was. What Diane said to him must’ve cut deep.

“You know it’s not true, right? What she said in there? I-I didn’t kill him. I wasn’t… Fuck!” His eyes were brimming with desperate tears, his breathing quick. You could hear his heart race from feet away.

“Of course not. She’s a deranged psychopath,” you emphasized, although you didn’t understand why you had to spell it out for him. He already knew that. “Why are you so upset? Don’t let her get under your skin. She’s thriving off it like a hyena.”

“I know. I just-…” He took a deep breath. “What if she’s right?”

Confused, your brow furrowed. “About what?”

“Me. Us,” he said, not making necessarily more sense. “What if it’s true, huh?” He blinked at you and swallowed harshly, completely out of breath. “Look, uhm… I-I don’t know how to say this. I’ve never admitted it before, but recently, things have become a lot clearer to me…” He paused for a moment, rubbing his mouth with two fingers before he found your eyes again. “I’ve always had feelings for you, you know? There’s always been this… pull. Even back then. Since the first time I met you.”

You inhaled sharply, your lungs incapable of fitting more air as you held your breath for several heartbeats. “Beau, it’s okay.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if it is,” he said. The tortured tone of his voice pained you. “I mean, I would’ve never done anything. You need to know that, okay? I would’ve never hurt you or Randy. I never would’ve come between you two.”

“I know that,” you assured him. You wanted to take his hands in yours, touch him, hold him. But you knew it would only make the turmoil of emotions worse instead of better, like pouring oil into the fire.

“But sometimes, just for a blink of an eye, I caught myself wondering, you know? What it would be like to be with you… Hell, I wondered all the damn time. Even on your freaking wedding day,” he confessed. “That’s the kind of horrible person I am. And now, that I am with you and so fucking happy, I feel guilty every time that things worked out the way they did. ‘Cause it does feel like I’m happy that I’m with you, and he’s not.”

You let out a heavy sigh through your nose and finally took his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers as you squeezed them. “I know all of that,” you said, his brow rising in bewildered surprise. “In terms of being honest… I guess a part of me always knew you felt this way, but I never let myself go there. And yeah, considering everything, it’s only natural to feel guilty. But you’ve still done nothing wrong. We’ve done nothing wrong. You can’t control how you feel. Neither can I. And I’m not saying everything always was exactly right, and we did everything by the book, but I loved Randy with all my heart. There wasn’t room for anyone else… And now, I love you. But it was never at the same time, you know?”

Beau pulled you into his arms and held you tightly, kissing your crown. “No, I know. Trust me. I know that part.”

“I love you, okay?” You tiptoed to claim his lips, putting your whole heart into the kiss. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you wouldn’t lie, either. “Diane doesn’t get to use that against us. Everything that happened, everything we’ve done right or wrong – that’s between you and me… and maybe God at some point. But surely not that psychotic bitch in there. She’s doesn’t know what we think or feel, so don’t give her ammunition, alright?”

Beau nodded and pecked your lips, his hands caressing your cheeks. “I love you, too.”

Jenny cleared her throat as she carefully snuck up on you. “You guys okay?”

You gave her a soft smile. “Yeah. What d’you got?”

“Well, since Diane walked in and became our prime suspect, the new DA on the case signed a search warrant for her property, office, car, and all her devices,” Jenny informed you.

“Alright, take Pops with you and head to her house first. Call me if you find somethin’ we can burn that witch with,” Beau ordered, putting his sheriff hat back on, jumping into the saddle full-throttle.

“On it, boss.” Jenny gave him a resolute nod and hurried down the hall.

January 2021

“¡Feliz navidad!”

As you opened the motel room door, you found Beau on your doorstep with a giant grin on his freckled face and not one but two bottles of tequila. One in each hand that he joyfully wiggled in the air.

You chuckled, shaking your head at him. “Christmas was two weeks ago, payaso.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t here, so merry belated Christmas,” he retorted and strolled right in as you held the door open for him. “Can’t believe you stayed here and didn’t go home for Christmas.”

“Meh, wasn’t in the mood to be placated and pitied by my whole family. I know they all mean well, but if I get one more concerned head tilt and a ‘How are you holding up, sweetie?’, tendré que apuñalar a alguien,” you huffed.

Beau narrowed his eyes at you, slightly amused. “I only understood the word ‘stab’, but I think I get the gist,” he joked, laughing. “I see your Spanish is getting better. So, how was your depressing and lonely Christmas without your family?”

“Nice guilt trip, asshole,” you retorted playfully and scoffed. “Great, actually. I went out with the guys from our team who stayed here, too. Got insanely drunk on some Christmas cocktail Ignacio created. And some hot guy taught me how to Salsa dance. He got a little handsy towards the end, which, granted, is the most action I’ve seen in five months, so…”

Beau’s lips thinned as he weighted your words. “Huh, so to recap: you got wasted with five guys in a dingy bar and second base with some stranger. Sounds like Christmas-y fun.”

You frowned slightly, watching him open one of the bottles of tequila. “Alright, there were no bases being hit, Judge Judy. How was your Christmas?”

“Not as fun, I can tell you that much,” Beau muttered and gulped some tequila straight from the bottle.

Your nose scrunched, lips pursed. “You and Carla got into it again?”

“Oh yeah, big time,” he replied. “I’ve only been home twice, including Christmas. You’d think she’d be more happy to see me, but instead I get yelled at for not being home more and criticized like I’m some drunk.”

Your narrowed look drifted to the bottle of liquor tightly clasped in his hands as he plopped down on the bed with a sigh. “Well, you know, not really making an argument for yourself there, gaucho.”

He scowled at you. “Who’s side are you on?”

“No one’s!”

“What, you think I’m some alcoholic?”

You pursed your lips and hesitated briefly. “No… But I do think you have a slight issue with... occurrence and... volume.”

He sent you a small glare. “That’s the same thing, just different words.”

“Look, I get it. It’s not like I’ve been a healthy example these past months,” you said, hoping a softer approach would work. You sat down next to him on the bed. “It’s been hard for all of us. Grief wrecks you. But you have a family to think about. Maybe it’s time you go home… for good.”

His brow drew into creases, green eyes drilling a hole into you. “Do you want me to go?”

Your lips parted for a moment, reluctant to answer as his question hung in the air between you two. “It’s not about what I want. You should do what’s best for you.”

Beau considered your words, his head bobbing. “I wanna stay. I need to see this through. For Randy,” he declared, although it was only partially true. Another part of him stayed for you. There was an electrostatic force, invisible to the naked heart and irresistible to the free mind. A force that kept him in your orbit and bonded his atoms with yours.

Maybe you should’ve told him to go home, been more insistent on making him leave, clearer on what was best. But truthfully and selfishly so, you liked having him around. He was your constant, your little piece of home in a strange land and an even stranger new life. And you didn’t want to navigate this new life alone.

“You sure?” you still asked for the sake of your conscience, but the determination on his face over his decision made your heart sing in relief.

“I’m sure. Just wish things were easier…”

Walking back into the interrogation room, you smiled victoriously as you slapped a folder full of evidence on the metal table in front of Diane. The deputies had found “a buttload” in Poppernak’s words.

Regardless, you knew Diane wasn’t stupid. If the deputies found something, she had wanted you to find it. For some reason, she wanted to be arrested. But you didn’t care what sick game she was playing. Cuffing her meant there’d be no more bodies, no more victims.

She gave you a titillated sneer, glimpsing at the file in front of her before finding your eyes again. She bit her lip, smirking. “Oooh, lookey, what you found there,” she mocked.

“It’s over, Diane. You’re under arrest for multiple murders among a plethora of other charges. But you already know that,” you told her firmly.

Beau’s features were stone-cold. He was pissed, radiating that fire burning inside of him for miles. He made the Yellowstone supervolcano look harmless. “Stand up and turn around. Hands behind your back.”

Diane did as told without any protest. She grinned at you the whole time when Beau manhandled her roughly into her handcuffs, bending her over the metal table as he read her the Miranda rights. You couldn’t shake the eerie feeling in your stomach, though. You had your killer, but somehow this felt far from over. You knew she had an ace up her sleeve and was waiting to lay it on the table.

“But we were just getting started,” she snarled. “Aren’t we having fun?”

“Fun usually looks a little different for me,” Beau retorted and forced her back onto the chair as soon as she was cuffed.

“I bet it does, Sheriff,” she purred with a flirtatious glimmer in her gray eyes. “I think I’ll wait with my confession till tomorrow. Let you two lovebirds enjoy your last night together.”

Beau and you shared a wary look at that. But deep in your heart, you knew there was nothing that could tear you apart. And you hoped Beau knew it, too.

“Look, bitch, I don’t care what you think you’ve planned, but it won’t drive a wedge between us. All it’s gonna do is piss us off more, got it?” you threatened and leaned forward on the table with an angrily knit brow.

Diane chuckled. “Confident. I always liked you, Agent. Aren’t you even a little curious what I’ve got in store for you?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation. You looked up at Beau and rose from your seat. “Let’s go. She’s not gonna talk tonight.”

Beau nodded, putting his hand on the small of your back, leading you outside the door. And just as your hand reached the handle, Diane decided to play her ace of hearts.

“It’s about your husband,” she noted innocently. You could hear the satisfaction in her voice as your whole body stiffened, muscles freezing. Beau felt it, too. His heart began to race. “Dead husband, of course. I always forget that part. Silly me.”

Beau’s hand on your back gave you a soft caress, telling you it was okay to turn around and find out. You didn’t want to care. And most of all, you didn’t want Beau to see that you did. But as you met his forest-green eyes, they were full of understanding.

“What about him?” you asked bravely, your chin held high as you faced her.

Her grin widened before her gaze wandered to Beau. “It’s in my pocket. Mind giving me a hand, Sheriff? You can even touch. I know you have a hard time keeping those hands to yourself,” she taunted.

You scoffed exasperatedly, rolling your eyes. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh, c’mon, Agent. Let me have a little fun. I’m about to be felt up by enough women,” she quipped.

You ignored her, hauling her to her feet by her elbow and holding her in place as your other hand dived into her back pocket. Your brow furrowed as your fingers identified a small plastic stick. Your frown deepened as you pulled out a familiar thumb drive. It wasn’t the first one you had received from her.

Twenty-five.

Had she taken another victim before giving herself up? What was so special about this one? What did it have to do with Randy? Did he ever cheat on you? Did Beau know?

You found that quite unbelievable. In fact, you knew there was no chance in hell that was true. But that did nothing to ease your conscience.

Your hand trembled in sync with your palpitating heartbeats. You tried to steady it as best as you could and keep your jumpy nerves in line as you slipped the small drive into its designated outlet on your laptop, not wanting the team that had gathered around and behind you to catch on to your unnerving emotions.

As you clicked on the MP4 file, your heart came to a standstill when a video popped open in the player. Pressing Play, you sucked in a breath and then forgot to breathe at all.

It only took you a glimpse to die inside.

“Oh God…”

It felt like suffocating. Like jumping off a steep seaside cliff and drowning. Your body hit the ocean rocks; your heart split open.

It only took Beau a second longer to catch on. The horror in your voice had put him on immediate alert before he recognized the figure on the screen, too.

As your head spun and your stomach turned upside down, you couldn’t find any words and bolted outside. You needed fresh air. You needed to breathe. And you needed to goddamn puke.

“Beau, what’s going on? Who’s the guy on the video? You know him?” Jenny asked, her gaze worriedly flashing in the direction you had fled.

Beau swallowed the thick lump in his throat, forcing the name out that had haunted him all those past years. “It’s Randy.”

Chapter 9: Marooned

Dun, dun, dun... The dead have risen in Montana! This is where it becomes a Walking Dead crossover (at least if you ask Donno 😂). Did you call the little resurrection action beforehand? 👀 Lemme know all your wild thoughts in the comments! 💭

So happy to be back with y'all! 🤍

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

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@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @fromcaintodean

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[writtenbylupin]

I have been meticulously reading an immense amount of wolfstar fics since 2021, so I'll give y'all my humble opinion on the best fics I've read, from the popular to the non popular ones:

WOLFSTAR FICS RECOMMENDATIONS ON AO3

POPULAR ONES THAT YOU MIGHT HAVE ALREADY HEAR OF:

"Best Friend's Brother" by bizarrestars (there's jegulus in this one as well. Remus is Regulus' best friend, and James is Sirius'. Regulus and Sirius don't talk anymore)

"Crimson Rivers" by bizarrestars (Hunger Games au. heart breaking. you will cry for months. there's also jegulus, dorlene, and marylily).

"The Cadence of Part-time Poets" by motswolo (High-school plus band au. my pearsonal favorite. I love it)

"Kill Your Darlings" by MesserMoon (Deaf Remus. College. other couples povs like jegulus and marylily. I cried so much. haven't recovered)

"Dear Your Holiness" by MollyMaryMarie (priest Remus. I know, it's weird, give it a chance anyway)

"all my cards are here" by haey1 (band au)

"Not Another Band AU" by TheLovelyZee (band au. I really love band au's)

"Sweater Weather" by lumosinlove (hockey au. Sirius is the captain, Remus is the physical trainer)

NON POPULAR ONE'S (some of it might be popular and I'm just not aware):

"Staying Strangers" by 3amAndCounting (texting. IT'S SO AMAZING. they actually talk about stuff before running away when they're sad, I'm obsessed)

"oh thou, my lovely boy" by bigthief (Dead Poets Society au)

"Blends" by rvltn909 (coffee shop au)

"A Wolf's Heart" by mizdiz (ill Remus. I cried. a lot.)

"cruel summer" by moonystarx (girl__almighty) (teenargers spending the summer toguether)

"Of Memories and Milk Thievery" by moonymoment (divorced wolfstar raising Teddy)

"Show Me Love" by EtoilesLaNuit (a one-shot of a universe where wolfstar didn't work out and everything falls apart. I sobbed reading this. If you feel like crying, this is your fic. If you're looking for a happy ending, run away from here)

"labyrinth" by moonymoment (they have a past, but now Remus is back, and Sirius doesn't know what to do)

"sirius black and the "mystery girl"" by tjmcharg (lily tries to figure out who is this person sirius is dating. Hogwarts au)

"every christmas from now on" by mandarino_o (fake dating. they're so obvious. im in love)

"Godlight" by Badhairred (F1 DRIVERS!!!! wolfstar and jegulus. they hate each other at first)

"Best Friend's Wedding" by amberlink (fake dating. famous sirius. remus works for him. past romantic prongsfoot)

"saccharine" by moonymoment (GHOST SIRIUS!!!)

This is it everybody, these are the main ones for me. enjoy and thank me later (:

[found-family-tournament]

Found Family Tournament Round 2 Part 9 Group 42

Propaganda and further images under the cut

Wright Anything Agency (& Company): Phoenix & Trucy Wright, Apollo Justice, Maya Fey, Miles Edgeworth, Pearl Fey, Ema Skye, Kay Faraday & Sebastian Debeste

221B Fam: Ryunosuke Naruhodo, Susato Mikotoba, Herlock Sholmes, Iris Wilson, Wagahai (& Gina Lestrade, Yujin Mikotoba, Kazuma Asogi, Barok van Zieks)

Wright Anything Agency (& Company):

THEY MEAN THE WORLDDDDD TO MEEEEEE for some reason a lot of people in the fandom don't play Ace Attorney 5 which is fair since it's kind of messy BUT. BUT. IT INTRODUCES ATHENA AND DOES SOOOO MUCH FOR THE WRIGHT ANYTHING AGENCY. In AA4 we learn that Trucy Wright made the Wright Talent Agency into the Wright Anything Agency in order to bring Apollo in as a lawyer when before it was just her (a magician) and her adopted father Phoenix (a poker player). and AA5 is all about Athena joining and Apollo learning how to trust her, at least it is to ME. they're so gooddddd aaaaaaa like you've got Phoenix and Trucy who are weirdos who love to scheme and you've got Apollo their longsuffering guy who deals with it all, and Phoenix is the mentor... and then Athena comes in and she has a lot of light and determination and trauma (just like the rest of them lol) and she's SO determined and I like her a lot!! And Trucy is my favorite and Phoenix cares about her SO much but he also has his other found family in the Feys!!!!!! Mia dies in the first game but her ghost stays with Phoenix and her sister/cousin Maya and Pearl are SO IMPORTANT TO HIM he loves them so much that's his sisters to me ;-; he would do anything for them and Trucy and he's growing as a mentor to Apollo and Athena too as the game progress... They don't write them all perfectly but they sure do a lot of things I like :) also feel free to split this up into their Wright Anything Agency or Phoenix + the Feys or Phoenix + Trucy if you need to I won't mind I just love AA's found family a lot

Picture this. You are a attorney in your mid 20s and somehow find yourself surrounded by weird little girls with every case you take on. You officially adopt one but really, all of them are either sisters or daughters to you. Especially your loud, burger-loving lesbian sister. Your childhood friend turned rival turned lover, who has a whip-wielding adoptive sister of his own, goes on a series of investigations while messing around with a furry for a couple of weeks and returns with two 17 year old children, a thieving lesbian and a child with a narcissistic murderer for a father who should've kept him back in school a few grades. Your lover has each of them under an arm, and they are appended to your stable of weird little girls but are very much hidden in the back. Then you find out that your daughter, the official one, has a 22yo trans half-brother with a musical diva mother and was half raised as a prince in Khura'in, so you divorce his boss (who is not your official lover, you just had a weird thing for a while when you were in your alcoholic phase, maybe while your actual lover was still messing around with the furry) very publicly while sending him to prison for murdering your daughter's father. Oh, but you have been disbarred, so you make your daughter's son send his own boss to prison, by planting false evidence on him. Of course the young man punches you in the face. Needless to say he works for you for a couple of years and never finds out that he's related to your daughter because that would require a straightforward conversation, now wouldn't it?

only one of them has never been arrested. only two of them arent lawyers. theyre all gay

Theyre very weird and misteruous and kinda fucked up a bit and they were through a lot but phoenix did his best and trucy well she's still just a kid but oh she's trying so fucking hard and always trying to wear a smile and it's breaking my heart the two of them. Also theyre weird i already said that but let me say it again they are WEIRD. and we love them<3 (the ace attorney fandom)

221B Fam:

I dont have much to say i am just constantly rotating them in my mind BUT i have to say the the last image i attached contains like MAJOR spoilers lol i just wanted the canon images in there

Ace Attorney has some wonderful found families, but this one's particularly special because of their circumstances. An exchange student and his unhinged weirdgirl assistant from Japan feeling so out of place in turn-of-the-century Great Britain, yet finding a completely batshit insane family during their time there...it's just so <3 <3 <3 Also Ryunosuke calls them "the greatest family in the world" and it makes my heart happy. Also they commit lots of crimes

[kteezy997]

The Other Man- Part Four// t.c.

Warnings: arguing (not with Timmy), cursing, kissing, Timmy calling reader "dummy"

"Can you believe that fucking guy?" Billy said aloud. "Crossing me like that, in my house. Fuck 'im."

"Well, he was right." you said under your breath, going upstairs.

"What was that?" he snapped at you.

"You're drunk, Billy. Just shut up."

"No, no, you agree with that little punk?"

You turned around to face your husband. "Of course I do! You have no respect for me anymore Billy."

"Are you fucking Timmy or something, y/n?!"

You were shocked that he even thought that, that he even questioned it. Even though it was true. "What?! How is that even relevant to what we're talking about? This isn't about Timmy."

"But are you fucking him?!" Billy was shouting now.

You were getting to the point where you totally disliked this man you were married to, and you could barely stand the sight of him. You wanted to be with Timmy, it was true, but you wanted to be away from Billy just as much.

"I want a divorce! I want you out of my fucking house, Billy! I don't love you anymore."

........

When Billy moved out, you were glad to be rid of him, and to be a separated woman. But you missed Timmy terribly. It had been two days without any contact from him. You wanted him to have space. But you didn't want your relationship to end, especially when you didn't do anything wrong, not to Timmy anyway.

You grew more miserable by each hour that went by without a word from him. You knew he had Amelia, but you truly thought he cared for you too. You hoped he wasn't ghosting you. At the very least, you wanted closure. But if you were being totally honest, you just wanted Timmy. All for yourself.

…….

Amelia loved Timothée Chalamet. Sure, the relationship between them was under contract, but by faking kisses, going on getaways, and attending fashion shows together, she fell in love over time. Timmy had a sense of humor and charm that could make anyone fall in love with him. They'd known each other for a while now and though they weren't romantic for real, they understood and respected each other.

Secretly, Amelia wanted to be with him, and not in a fake way. But she knew her feelings were unrequited. She could sense that Timmy cared for her and enjoyed her company at times, but she knew that she wasn't a priority in his life. She was more of an obligation that anything, that she knew.

It made her sad, but he had unknowingly cushioned the blow by giving her some of the most sensual and sexy nights of her life. They had a sort of friends with benefits situation going on. It didn't happen often. It was basically when Timmy wasn't in a real relationship, and he was lonely, or bored. But she didn't care if they were just booty calls, because it felt good to just be wanted by him. Even if it wasn't really real. Timmy was the only man she loved.

Lately though, Timmy had been even more distant than usual. They had become confidants in one another, and friends even. Now, he didn't ever talk to her. She invited him to dinner at her place, but he acted like he'd much rather be somewhere else. He'd said something about 'game night' at Billy and y/n's house, but he hadn't ever been so antsy to go to a game night before. It made her wonder what else was on his mind.

........

You couldn't believe it when you saw Timmy's name flashing on your phone screen. "I'm sorry," you told your coworkers, "it's important, I have to take this." To you, it was important enough to skip out on work to talk to him.

"Timmy?" you answered, your heart racing.

"Hey Peaches." he responded, cheerily.

You felt a sense of relief hearing him still using the nickname he'd given you.

“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened.”

“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m sorry I haven’t called for a couple of days. I should have checked on you sooner. I didn’t mean anything by it, just got a lot of shit on my mind, ya know?”

“Yeah, it’s okay. I miss you, Timmy. Can I see you?” you asked.

“Yes. I miss you so much, I need to see you as soon as possible. The minute you get off work, I’ll pick you up. We’ll go somewhere.” his voice was so soft and endearing, like you were being cuddled and warmed up by each syllable.

"Okay. You promise? There's so much I want to say to you." You needed further assurance, probably because he'd been gone from you for what felt like such a long time. You didn't want to be without him again.

"Yes, of course I promise. You have my word, y/n. And my heart. You should know that."

You melted from the inside, "Oh, Timmy." you cooed, "I'll see you soon."

...........

You practically ran out of the office at quitting time. And there he was, sitting in his car waiting for you. "Timmy!" you called to him.

He snapped his gaze over to you upon hearing your voice, and he got out of the car. He immediately took you into his arms, squeezing you tightly. "God, feels like forever." he groaned, resting his head on yours.

"I know. I'm so happy to see you." You said, loosening your hold on him to look in his eyes. "It's over with Billy. I kicked him out of the house and we're getting a divorce."

He nodded, "That's good! He's turned into such an asshole. He doesn't deserve you." He touched his nose to yours so sweetly, pulling you more snuggly against him.

"I know, it's been a long time coming. Even before...us. I should have kicked him out ages ago."

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, eyes lingering down to your lips just for a second before they returned to your eyes.

"Yes." you replied, closing your eyes as he leaned down, touching his lips to yours softly.

He pressed his lips against yours but kept the kiss chaste as you were standing on a public street, while it was still daylight. "I love your lips. They're my favorite thing. I could do this all day long." he smirked, kissing you again.

"Timmy." you gasped softly as he moved down, his lips traveling from your cheek to your neck. "Let's get out of here, okay?"

Timmy stopped kissing, "Yeah." He took you by the hand, leading you around the car and opening the door for you. "Do you want to get some dinner?" he asked you as he got into the driver seat.

"Yeah, that sounds great."

It was so lovely. He took you to a ritzy place that you couldn't afford. He spoiled you rotten. The meal had several courses and he insisted that you try a desert.

You talked about everything and nothing, and it felt so comfortable, so natural. This was the type of thing you were missing. You and Billy didn't spend quality time together. Billy didn't care to do that. But Timmy did. Timmy was enjoying your time together, indulging you in gourmet food and sweet conversation. Timmy held your hand across the table, and you played footsy underneath it.

It felt like you two were just a normal couple. As if one of you wasn't on the brink of divorce and the other didn't have a girlfriend.

It was dark when you left the restaurant. Timmy put his arm around you as you walked to his car. The streetlamps produced a yellow-orange hue that made his curls look fuzzy when it shined on them. The lighting also defined his high cheekbones in shadows, basically putting a spotlight on his perfect porcelain skin that was sprinkled with freckles.

You were in awe of this man that was so beautiful, inside and out. It saddened you to share him. You knew Amelia, not well, but she seemed like a nice person. As much as you hated yourself for it, you wished there was a way to make her disappear from his life completely.

Timmy kept one hand on the steering wheel, and the other on your thigh. "I love this, y/n."

"The feeling of my trousers?" you joked, giggling.

He smiled and chuckled, "No, dummy, just...being with you."

"Me too. I wish it could always be like this."

"Maybe one day, we can have it." he said, taking your hand.

"Is this about Amelia? You never say anything about her."

"y/n, it's just...it's more complicated than you know." he said, sighing.

"Then tell me. You said you had stuff on your mind. You can trust me Timmy." you leaned over tucking your arm underneath his affectionately, and kissing him on the cheek.

"I know, and I do trust you. I'll just tell you: Amelia and I- our relationship isn't real. It's under contract for public promotion."

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator

[leosficlist]

Post Series 3 Rec List pt 2

Here I present you more fanfics that acknowledged either Mary, or any event in Series 3, but usually no other canon is followed after that. Hope you enjoy!

Post S3 pt 1

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss @swissmissficrecs 22.2k words

Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

notes: absolute treasure, love everyone's characterization, natural sliding together

Over the Fence by not_a_prude 11.6k

Patching Sherlock up after their adventures is routine for Doctor John Watson, and the detective has never been anything but a nightmare of a patient. But one day, Sherlock is being even more recalcitrant than usual, and John makes an unexpected discovery...

notes: Sherlock gets himself hurt to feel John's hands on him, post Mary no baby, misunderstandings, first kiss, first time

A Shocking Habit by apliddell 3.6k words

After John walks in on something that surprises him, Sherlock realizes that they're approaching a tipping point and has to find the words to get them to the other side.

notes: misunderstandings, everyone's a fool, John's jealous, love confessions and stuttering out their feelings

Loss of the Senses by Goddess_of_the_Night 18.5k words

or "Five Times Sherlock Lost his Senses and One Time He Used Them All to Worship John"

Over the course of two years, Sherlock loses each of his five senses: Taste, Smell, Touch, Sound, and Sight. John is a saint who takes care of him despite Sherlock's insistence to push him away.

"He groans at the pain in his entire head, minutely moving his head back and forth as though denying the reality. “Sherlock?” He hears John’s hopeful voice on his right. “John,” he croaks out, feeling relieved by his presence. Of course he’s here; he’s always here when Sherlock wakes up in hospital, “We have to stop meeting like this,” he adds lightly. John can’t help a short laugh before agreeing, “Damn right we do.”"

notes: wonderful, keeping forever, post s3 in reference to Sherlock's bullet wound

Green Carnation by glenien 2.6k

John takes Sherlock home. [Post-TAB]

notes: hurt/comfort, Mary is not liked, first kiss

The Ideal Man by apliddell 4.8k

John doesn’t keep me waiting long. He never does.

notes: lavender, love confessions on the stag night

Golden Hours by stopthat 4.7k words

John is too quiet. Sherlock whisks him away to the sea.

They sit in silence for long moments, watching the sun begin its descent into the horizon as the light slowly fades to a glorious gold. Their arms brush occasionally as they sip their stout, and Sherlock feels each touch like an open flame, waiting. For what, he's not sure.

Quiet by orphan_account 4k words

"It all comes down to this. John knows Sherlock. Not in his details but in his entirety."

A Brand of Gold by aquabelacqua 12.7k

What am I doing? he wondered. The answer came back at once:  Flirting.

He sank deeper into the pillows, let the mist and blur of the wine settle around him, let it shore up his nerves and dim the warning signals that flashed dully in the back of his mind. He let the rest of the disappointment about Lucy and his strange accommodations and about the weekend as a whole fade into obscurity. He let the vital, missing piece snap into place as surely and as cleanly as if it had always been there.

He was flirting with Sherlock Holmes.

notes: post s3 in one reference to John's divorce, flirty, funny, sweet

Sociopathy and Other Fibs by kinklock 5.3k

Five times John called Sherlock out, and one time Sherlock returned the favour

Read Between My Lines by Ragazza_Guasto 11k words

Sherlock is back, the game is on, and John decides it's time to get back into the swing of writing up their cases again. There's just one problem. Apparently his 'romantic prose' has taken a pointed and quite obvious turn for the worse. Everyone seems to notice but Sherlock and John isn't sure why this bothers him, but it does.

notes: lighthearted, John leaves Mary for Sherlock

Forward by johnwatso @johnwatso, Salambo06 @salambo06fics 7k words

A minute passes without either of them moving, Sherlock barely even breathing for fear of ruining the spell that seems to have come over them.

"Like what?" he finally asks, emboldened by the whiskey and the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"I would have kissed you," John says, so simply, so plainly, that Sherlock wants to cry.

notes: post-Mary

Let Go by thisisforyou 2.7k words

In the end, separating John's things from Sherlock's in the chaos of their sitting room is like pulling a limpet from a wet rock. Especially when the rock is clinging on for dear life, because Sherlock doesn't want to let go. Short, fluffy h/c Johnlock oneshot.

notes: packing up John's stuff, loved hearing Sherlock's yearning thoughts, Mary is dumped promptly

[nsdrawsstuff]

*A Guy That I'd Kinda Be Into starts playing*

My favorite flavor of this ship, aka Kiyoshiro "my crush is actually a mess of a human being and I'm fine with that" Higashimitarai and Hiro "oh no he's cool" Amanokawa

[graymatterggfancomic]

Hey, it’s a little comic for some clarification and context with how Hiro was in Chapter 1

Before the events of Chapter 1, Hiro was in a depressed rut with his father having gone missing for half a year by this point, and him barely even talking to anyone. And if it wasn’t for the Clockmon incident, he probably wouldn’t have talked to Kiyoshiro outside of a dorm mate/ dorm leader type of conversation. And now that he has purpose (both with looking for his father and having a person like Kiyoshiro to talk to) he now is going to act more on his emotion. Maybe a bit much with how he’s been so far in Ch2, but you know!

[simplyreiartblog]

Its been a while since I drew something silly~

[longing4yesterday]

do you have a favorite non-beatles album? you have good tastes in beatles songs so im curious

aww thank you! i don't listen to albums very often but a couple of my favorites are; IGOR by tyler the creator screen violence by CHVRCHES in dreams by roy orbison fallen by evanescence (listen. she's been stuck to me like glue since i was 8 so this album is a guilty pleasure more than anything) preachers daughter by ethel cain infestissumam by ghost floating into the night by julee cruise take me back to eden by sleep token i'll leave an honorable mentions of some of my all time favorite songs; bright eyes by art garfunkel (my absolute favorite ever <3) time in a bottle by jim croce the nightingale by julee cruise she is the sunlight by trading yesterday the predatory wasp of the palisades is out to get us! by sufjan stevens we'll meet again by the ink spots there will be no divorce by the mountain goats where the willow tree died by foreign fields love of my life by queen love is a losing game by amy winehouse amor prohibido by selena

[porkcutletbowl44]

Hello again!!! Makes almost one month since the last time I read anything related to Far From Perfect (college is draining all my sanity and time) but I finally read the latest chapters and I've to say they're delightful.

The start of chapter 19 surprised me a lot since I didn't expect Kyle to be the one to help Simon while he's drowing himself in alcohol. I expected to see Johnny in this situation, but it's a pleasing surprise to see Kyle instead since I think he's a really nice character. It was also so cute and heartbreaking to see mama taking care of Simon in the hospital. It's obvious that she cares deeply about his happiness and well-being and yet he's insufferable most of the time (actually impressed that he wasn't in this chapter). Being honest I actually laughed so much while mama was helping him to undress😭 I couldn't believe it and honestly I'd laugh too if i was in her shoes because the situation is awkward to even think of.

Reading the wedding scene in chapter 20 made my eyes a bit teary (was waiting for it since you mentioned once), I really love the way you make me feel nostalgic and melancholic about mama and Simon's old dinamic before he fucked up with it. They were such a lovely couple that it makes me furious, sad and so many other things I don't know how to name that it was all throw away because he was insecure and refused to communicate before taking drastic decisions about their relationship. Now talking about my lovely man Keegan, he's the most perfect man I've ever seen😞❤. I find myself smilling at my cellphone while reading about him and Fawn interacting because they have a wonderful relation. She's a bubbly and sweet kid and he's just so carrying towards her, when he takes her to a bike ride the whole situation about Simon falls on the background and the whole thing gains a calm and light-hearted, it's just so perfect💞. I think i talk too much about my love to this man, but he's one of my favorites and it's way too hard to find good content of him in the fandom.

About the notes on chapter 21's start, I just want to say that your work makes me really happy. I'm sorry that you received hate your content and I hope you've gained motivation again to continue this wonderful series❤❤❤. Now about the chapter itself, seeing Fawn worrying about her father is one of the cutest thing in it (also them watching Fosters Home for Imaginary Friends bring me some good memories, that show was amazing). This whole chapter was sweet and sad at the same time, but mostly sweet. Fawn's game was a wonderful scene too, definely one of my favorites. It's just so good to see Keegan growing even more fond towards mama and her daughter even when he isn't even part of the family (hopefully this will change soon🙏) . Although sometimes I fell bad for him, I mean imagine falling in love with someone who still loves and misses their ex and that has recently passed through a divorce? That's tough, and I'm impressed on how well he hides his jealousy and how patient he's with mama. And when Fawn calls him "daddy" my jaw fell to the floor. Wasn't expecting that, either wass him, mama or anybody I'm really sure of that. Honestly I think that it was really just a slip up this time, but considering that Simon almost doesn't spend time witb Fawn as he used to and that Keegan is way more present now, I wouldn't be surprised if it turns into a common thing for her.

Now Ghost went back into being a completely idiot on chapter 22 damn. It was taking too long but he started saying things without thinking again, and reading this was a real rollercoaster of emotions. First of all, how dare him to suddenly show up on mama' workplace with their daughter and refer to her as his wife like he didn't absolutely destroyed her mental health with the divorce? Sorry but i'd be livid if I was in this situation (not related but her boss is actually so chill, like wdym she can take an early day off just because her family is there? I loved it). The car ride was just so overwhelming😭 first they're calmly chatting and suddenly the air is tense because of him, he definitely doesn't know how to properly formulate phrases without sounding like an ass. He's so misarable and it's delicious to see him dealing with the consequences (even tho he doesn't know how). Now Colleen, Jesus Christ she also makes me livid💔. Honestly it impresses me that even after she made his daughter scared about her mother's safety and happiness he still allowed her to be near Fawn, it's almost like he forgot with who he's living with. The most responsible adult there was mama, especially when she punched Colleen (like shshshould've done earlier). I just can't with her and Simon, they're both inresponsible and selfish in their own ways and its insufferable.

Now finally talking about everything, I really hope mama doesn't allow her daughter near that woman ever again. It's surprising that even when Simon claims to care about her and Fawn more than anything in the world he' still able to do idiot things related to them. Deeply wondering when he's going to dump that bitch because she literaly slapped his daughter, what kind of sane person does that??? Read a comment on Ao3 about everyone in this fanfiction needing therapy and they're so real about it. If i remember good mama already goes to therapy, but I highly doubt Simon does because he doesn't know how to deal with his emotions and with the variety of scenarios he can pass through, and if he really wants to get things back to what they were before the divorce, he needs to get his feelings on check. Also noticed that Fawn is more talktive in this last chapters (?) but idk, I think I might be imagining things here, althought if I'm not, I need to say that I found it wonderful. And I'm deeply hoping that mama doesn't accept any advances of Simon's part because he doesn't deserve a second chance. He's horrible for her mental health and I'm praying that she'll choose Keegan instead and finally get over her ex because she deserves better that how he treated/is treating her.

Anyways, I'm really sorry for the gigant ask but I needed to talk about this fanfiction so bad💔. Missed a lot reading your wonderful righting and seeing the lead this whole thing is getting. I wish you a wonderful week and that you keep continuing with this lovely work💞💞💞.

Oh the smile on my face reading this while eating sushi 🤭🥰🥰🥰

I'm so glad to see you in my ask box!!! And I'm so sorry to hear that college life is draining :( I'm cheering for you until it gets better!!! 🫶🏻

Everything certainly is messy! I will say right off the bat Simon is 100% done with Colleen's bullshit, he obviously cares way more for his kiddo than her so she will be letting the door hit her on the way out (for a reason I will not disclose just yet 🫥)

Simon has been doing so much reflecting and trying to navigate what the hell is going on, feeling new things for the first time is a broken rollercoaster sheesh 😬

I'm honestly debating on enabling comment moderation because there's simply too much judging based on the first few chapters when things are meant to go slow, and it's a little bit irritating because I can tell when someone reads and gets a full understanding rather than skimming and forming an incorrect assumption without going through the whole series. (Also debating on posting a very indepth Simon analysis on how his character is in the fic)

And yes! Mama does self therapy with her little journal and whatnot, and that seems to be helping (I think I'm gonna leave the poor lady alone now, depression is NOT fun :(

But now that I have everyone (at least mostly everyone) hating Simon, time to pull a little switcheroo 🤭😈

As always, I love rants, and my ask box is always open to those who want to talk about Far From Perfect 🫶🏻