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whumpshaped · 1 year ago

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Epilogue – Jonathan

Dollhouse Masterlist

tw aftermath of horrible trauma, talk of surgery the aftermath of it, mentions of drugs, rehab, suicidal tendencies, past implied noncon, rocky recovery, past lady whump with effects in the present, self-blame, self-doubt, mention of major character death within the family, parents sent to prison, it’s a lot but it’s happy i swear

Jonathan tried to balance all the boxes of food in one hand as he reached for the door handle with the other. He narrowly missed it, the door seemingly opening on its own; Honey stood in the doorway, quickly taking half the boxes with a concerned expression.

The transformation she’d made since last year still astounded him. Some of it was physical, readily apparent upon first glance, like slowly gaining back up to a healthy weight with the help of the family’s private dietitian, growing her hair out to be able to wear it in elaborate braids, and changing her wardrobe from custom doll clothes to jeans, sweatpants and T-shirts with smiling avocados on them. But for the most part, it was things like allowing herself to slouch a little, speaking “out of turn”, making decisions on her own… like officially changing her name to Honey after her escape and stay at the hospital.

“You really shouldn’t strain your hands like that,” she said softly, the way she said most things.

“They don’t really hurt anymore, really.” He pushed the door closed after himself with his foot, taking care to do it slowly instead of slamming it. “Thank you.”

“Well, you don’t need to make them hurt again. Plus, you’re gonna drop them one day. It’s an accident waiting to happen.”

He sighed, placing the boxes on the kitchen table. “I’m sorry. I’ll make two trips next time.”

Honey put the rest of the boxes next to those ones. “No, it’s… I don’t know. I didn’t mean to scold you. Sorry. I just… I’ve been feeling weird lately.”

Jonathan gave her a look of genuine empathy. Their situations weren’t the same, but unfortunately, they both had some trauma relating to the coming days. “The anniversary?”

She nodded. “Sorry. I know– It’s not the same. She was your sister. I shouldn’t be wallowing so much, I just… And not even just your sister–”

He shook his head. “Don’t do that to yourself. It’s difficult for all of us. Don’t– don’t try to go through it alone.” He spread his arms a little, allowing her to step closer and nuzzle against his chest. He wrapped her up in a tight hug, letting the words sink in for a moment. “You can feel things, yeah? And you can tell me about them. And you can cry, and be angry, and be anxious. I’m here for you, okay?”

She didn’t respond right away. He knew she was mulling it over, trying to actually take in the meaning of the words instead of giving a manufactured reaction. “I’m here for you, too,” she said eventually, and Jonathan knew she meant it. She had been there for him throughout all of this, despite her own struggles. They’d been there for each other.

“Let’s call the others, yeah?”

Seeing the dolls improve as they did was beyond Jonathan’s wildest dreams. Sure, he knew that their family fortune would be able to pay for a lot of procedures and therapy, but he didn’t think he would have access to that fortune after Grace’s passing. The fact that his father stepped up and ensured that everyone who was willing to accept the help would be taken care of was absolutely fantastic. Jonathan had never felt so much love for him before, and especially since they’d had that talk about Grace.

As it turned out, his mother was the one forcing him to play along. With Grace’s death, he realised he couldn’t do it anymore, and did what he could to remedy the whole decade of inaction. The truth came out bit by bit, starting with the events of that fateful day, but his father made sure that all the victims were set up with the best legal teams. When it came to his own family, he was as truthful as he could be, incriminating both his wife and himself in the process. He never protested the decision of the court.

Jonathan had inherited the company, and he immediately dismantled it from top to bottom. He started a smaller business with part of the leftover money, spending the rest on the recovery process. Not all the dolls had decided to come live with him, of course. Some of them completely cut ties with him, and he had no idea whether they’d managed to get back on their feet. But the ones that were living with him? He was so fucking proud of each and every one of them.

The doctors at the hospital had managed to fix all of Dottie’s prosthetics almost completely. She had also received a considerable upgrade; she was now able to walk on her own and learning to use her hands again. Jonathan sat with her for hours upon hours, practising sign language together to make up for her severed vocal cords, helping her bend her artificial wrists and fingers this way and that. Her face wasn’t frozen in that one acceptable expression anymore either. She frowned, and she grimaced, and she cried, and she grinned with mischief and genuine delight. She had so much personality all bottled up, that much was clear even without being able to express herself perfectly. Even though she kept the name Grace had given her, she couldn’t have been any more different than the doll Jonathan had met.

Basil, now Nix, was under medical supervision for months regarding their several and serious addictions. The withdrawal symptoms were intense and at times terrifying, and Jonathan thought multiple times that he was going to lose them. He hadn’t known them for long at that point, but he knew that no human deserved to have to go through something like that, and it was pretty clear that they were doing their absolute best to come out on the other side. And eventually, they did, coming home with five bottles of different medication to keep them stable, but alive, and announcing the name change. “It’s short for Phoenix. I mean, if those weren’t the ashes, I don’t know what the fuck I’ve risen from,” they’d said with a laugh. “Besides… I kinda feel like I’m nothing without the– the whole persona. So… Nix.”

Toxicant-induced loss of tolerance wasn’t something Jonathan had ever heard of before talking to Nix’s doctors at the clinic. It wasn’t surprising, given that Grace had been pumping them full of chemicals for several consecutive years, day in and day out, but the effects were absolutely horrifying. It was like they were allergic to everything now. Cutting out everyday stimulants like caffeine wasn’t even the issue, really, it was trying to cut out things like food colouring; especially when that stuff was put into medications. And whenever Jonathan had made a mistake regarding their diet? Nix was punished with days upon days of heart palpitations, night sweats and vomiting. Their diet had slowly taken shape over the past half a year, and they were able to enjoy family dinners with the rest of them now.

The twins refused to part with either Dottie or Nix; the four of them were inseparable. They both had to go to vocal coaches to get their voice back in working order after close to eight years of forced silence, and they also had their gastrostomy tubes removed. They had been at risk of refeeding syndrome, like most of the dolls, but after clearing that obstacle and being allowed to eat freely, their symptoms of malnutrition subsided, even reversed. They went the opposite way in clothing stores now, making sure they looked as different as possible. Muffin went by Lux now, the name they’d originally wanted to change their birth name to before they got snatched up by Grace. They’d had their hair buzzed and several tattoos made before moving onto piercings, moulding their body into something they thought was furthest from a doll. Berry went back to his given name, Devante, exclaiming that his mother had already known he’d have to fight for his own justice against others’ horrible wrongdoings.

Despite that sentiment, his mother never got to hear about it. Dottie, Nix, Dev and Lux had all decided not to contact their parents. They had been gone for way too many years. They had read their own obituaries, saw their family’s posts on social media about their passing on every single anniversary of their “death”. They had agreed it would’ve been too much to just come back after half a decade or more.

“I don’t want my mom to see me like this,” Dottie had told him. “I can’t even go back to the name she’d given me. I feel like the ship of Theseus. I want her to remember the old me.”

If anything, Jonathan could at least relate to losing a mother who was still alive, and he did everything in his power to make it better for everyone around him.

Honey did contact her family after a few months, when she felt like she was ready. Jonathan held her hand throughout the phone call. He listened to her father ask whether there was a lawsuit, and whether she’d gotten any money from it. He listened to her mother say that they’d sold all her things already, so she didn’t have to go home. When Honey asked if they could meet anyway, she told her she was busy, and hung up the phone. He’d spent the next weeks consoling her.

As Jonathan watched them all take their seats at the kitchen table, he wondered what could’ve become of all these people, had he called Grace in advance about his visit that day. She would’ve told him it wasn’t a good day, and they would’ve rescheduled. All these amazing people could’ve been lost. All this laughter could’ve stayed a fantasy of their captive mind.

The phone began ringing before Jonathan could’ve had a single bite, and he sighed and put down his utensils. When he saw the number, however, he decided he wasn’t even annoyed anymore.

“Hey,” he said with a smile, despite Bora not being able to see it.

After being called Coral for several years, having his hair grown out and coloured to match the name, he decided he wanted to go back to his given name, chop it all off and dye it black. He’d gone into his kidnapping and captivity with a debilitating case of depression, and the therapy and medication he’d been able to receive since his rescue was beyond helpful.

“Hey, man. I just wanted to call, because… you know. Just wanted to check on you guys.”

In all honesty, Jonathan expected a call from him sometime that day. Not even just because he was a good person, good people didn’t need to put their trauma aside to reconnect with others reminding them of said trauma. But the fact was, Bora had a lot of survivor’s guilt. Grace had never really done anything drastic to his body, nothing that couldn’t easily be reversed. His depression had been worsened by the situation, as anyone’s would’ve been, and he’d been forced to play along with a relationship he never wanted, but he had never gotten his limbs chopped off. He was working through the mental issues in therapy, and he was trying to live by the rule of not comparing his pain to others’, but every time he called, the overwhelming guilt was painfully obvious in his voice.

“I think we’re doing fine, considering, you know, everything. We’re all a bit out of it. It’s hard to think it’s only been one year… and at the same time it’s like, wow, it’s already been a year.”

“Yeah. I’m not… super excited for the articles tomorrow.”

“Would you like to come over? I don’t know if we’d necessarily take your mind off of it, but we all kind of formed a pact that none of us would look at social media for a while.” He lowered his voice, walking a little further away from the table. “And they’d love it, too. They’re always asking me whether you’ll come visit after your calls.”

There was no response from the other side, and for a moment, Jonathan thought he’d pushed it too far. But then he heard quiet sniffling, and Bora choked out, “I’ll drop by.”

“We all love you, okay? Don’t feel like you need to hide from us.”

Another pause. “Is Val coming?”

Well, maybe he needed to hide from one person. After their time spent together in captivity, all that forced intimacy and shared trauma, it was understandable when Valerie drew a line in the sand about seeing each other. Her doll name, Anise, was way too close to her original name, Annie, so she decided to go the complete opposite direction and choose an entirely new one. That was around the same time when she told Bora she needed to get as far away from him as possible, in a desperate effort to distance herself from her past entirely.

It was a difficult situation for everyone. After having her face surgically frozen at Grace’s house, Val wasn’t even able to communicate anything. Bora somehow ended up taking on the role of her helper, which Grace took full advantage of, but at least he was able to apologise, or ask things, or request things not to be done to him, whenever that was even an option. Valerie had her voice taken away, her sight, her facial expressions, everything. The doctors were able to do some reconstructive surgery, but she was told that seeing and speaking were completely off the table with the way her body adjusted. Learning sign language without being able to copy by sight proved to be a massive task, and Bora, as always, attempted to be as much help as he could be. Almost the first thing Val had told him was that she couldn’t handle his skin touching hers, or the sound of his voice, and she wanted to leave immediately. Bora had respected her wishes, as was the right thing to do.

Jonathan had spent the next few months almost constantly on call with him, and when the two of them weren’t talking, Bora was phoning the hotlines. Being riddled with guilt to the point of not wanting to live anymore was a common sentiment across the board when it came to their little patchwork family, but Bora was alone, and he refused to get any help that would’ve put him in direct contact with others. It was always just the phone, and always only Jonathan. He still had nightmares about the phone ringing and him not being able to reach it in time.

“We haven’t talked in a good while,” Jonathan admitted. “I tried to send her a text earlier today to make sure she was doing okay, and it didn’t go through.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sure she’s okay, though. She just doesn’t want to talk about being okay with us specifically.”

The rest of the call went by quickly, and when Jonathan rejoined the rest of them for lunch, he found them all dead silent and clearly trying to eavesdrop. They didn’t even try to hide it.

“Is he coming, then?” Lux asked.

“He said he was, yeah.” They all looked at each other in utter delight, smiles spreading from one face to the other so quickly it was impossible to tell who started it.

The next day, Jonathan immediately bumped into his sister on his morning walk. “One Year Has Passed Since Killer Barbie’s Funeral”, read the headline on the stupid magazine that was displayed at the newspaper stand, showing her eerily smiling face and pink casket. He had to turn around and go right back home, desperate for one of Honey’s sweet, warm hugs.

“I didn’t break the rules,” he sobbed as quietly as he could. “It was– it was a newspaper, I just– I glanced in the direction of the stand–”

“I know.” She pet his hair gently, tears of her own slowly joining Jonathan’s in soaking their clothes. “I know. You don’t need to explain yourself.”

Jonathan’s morning breakdown set the tone for the entire day, and they all took turns hugging and holding each other while the other cried. Board games, tremendous amounts of snacks they could now enjoy freely, and a massive pity party took up the entire day of the anniversary; no tears remained unshed, and no one was left without several friends’ worth of consolation and compassion.

And when the sun rose again the next day and Jonathan turned over in his bed to see Honey sleeping soundly, he got the distinct feeling that it was all going to be okay. If they could survive one year despite all that had happened, they could survive a thousand.

taglist: @whumpsday @lonesome--hunter @reblogging-whump @panic-and-chaos @kim-poce @uwu-scraptrappy @mikaelaix @whumpinggrounds @hidden-dreamland @the-scrapegoat @whumplr-reader @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpinthepot @devourerofcheesecake

#dollhouse #whump #whump writing #aftermath of trauma #talk of surgery #drug mention #suicidal tendencies #past implied noncon #rocky recovery #past lady whump with effects in the present #self-blame #self-doubt #mention of major character death within the family #parents sent to prison #aftermath #comfort #aftermath of surgery #lady whump #recovery fic

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omegaremix · 3 months ago

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September 15 & 16, 2022.

Cold Waves X. It was a four-month wait from purchase to admission. I owed it to myself to go because goddamn it I’m a fucking industrialist. How should I even miss an opportunity to go to Brooklyn’s Warsaw and be around my type of people that are almost non-existent on Long Island? Plus, Paul Barker, Chris Connelly, and Front 242 would be there. It would be the third and final show of the year I’d attend, capping off a amazing run that started with Boy Harsher in April and continued with Sacred Bones 15th Anniversary (May).

Never had I traveled to New York City on back-to-back days. But the money spent on tickets and round-trip train fare was doubly worth it. I was met with two almost-perfect days of blue skies, white clouds, and nice leveled temperatures. Two days of driving westward on the Long Island Expressway, down Sagtikos Parkway, through Southern State to Rt. 231, and heading south to Rt. 27A to the Babylon stop to Penn Station with alphabet and number lines back and forth to boot, followed by breezy night drives down 27A and Sunrise Highway / Rt. 27 at 3AM. A sense of perfect pitch-black quiet and normalcy waited at the end as a response to two days of unforgettable acts.

No journey to Brooklyn and back wasn’t without being drenched in heavy sweat traversing through subway lines, race-walking on the broken concrete, and standing in one spot for five hours. I’d meet an older gentleman in his Seventies who, like me on Friday’s half, wore a Killing Joke shirt. His debut album to my “Turn To Red”. I’d meet some pretty interesting characters at the stations including a Tommy Conte look-a-like smootching his boyfriend, an Asian girl in a purple dress who’s thigh was bloodied and bandaged, hot wicked pale leatherettes, and a boyfriend who boarded the ‘E’ line with his girlfriend who was literally covered with deep red hickeys from neck to chest.

It was an event incomparable to the Sacred Bones’ showcase before it, or the ten-hour endurance test that was Hospital Productions’ 20th Anniversary. A double-headed victory, nonetheless. And I have the tracklist to prove it:

Male Tears: “Dealer”

Bedbug: “Songs About Ghosts”

Gauche: “Cycles”

Smash Your Enemies: “Faithless”

Courtney Love (indie): “Stripmine”

Axe Rash: “Bury Your Way Out”

Curse Mackey: “After You, Destruction”

Ducks Ltd.: “Sheets Of Grey”

Gauche: “Boom Hazard”

Nick Klein: “A Bundle And Some Speakers”

JPEGMAFIA: “The 27 Club”

Beirut: “So Slowly”

Dead Leaf Echo: “Milk.blue.kisses (Foil In Motion)”

Marine Girls: “On My Mind”

Katy & Nick: “Dinner Line”

Pom Pom Squad: “Popular”

Thanks For Coming: “Hard Drive”

Male Tears: “2AM”

Traps PS: “Prim Dancer”

7 Year Bitch: “You Smell Lonely”

Mediaslaves: “%”

Restraining Order: “Upper Class Bum”

Revolting Cocks: “Get Down” (EXT)

Old Iron: “Planetisimal”

Courtney Love: “My Last Night”

Television Personalities: “Happy Families”

Soda Lilies: “At Night” (demo)

Paper Dollhouse: “Emeralds”

Marbled Eye: “New Crease”

Male Tears: “Hit Me”

Silent Servant: “Slasher”

Siouxsie & The Banshees: “Party’s Fall”

Katy & Nick: “Sailor”

Kaputt: “Accordion”

Guerilla Toss: “Famously Alive”

Television Personalities: "Posing At The Roundhouse”

Totally Unicorn: “Dead Before A Live Audience”

Infinity Land: “Small Town Ritual Abuse”

DJ Muggs & Riggs: “Heads On The Wall”

Acumen Nation: “Gun Lover”

Mess: “F.T.W.”

JPEGMAFIA: “What’s Crackin”

Michael Berdan: “Combat Shock (Sentimental About the Taste of Gun Oil)“

Breakfast Muff: "Crocodile”

Mr. Elevator: “I Am The Moon”

Belk: “Question Of Stress”

Fight Amp: “Ex Everything”

Spike Hellis: “Rook”

Baby Strange: “Midnight”

Smirk: “Irrelevant Man”

Vandal Moon: “Young. Deadly. Beautiful”

Exek: “ID'ed”

Akitsa: “Vers La Victoire”

Happy Meals / Free Love: “May You Be The Mother”

Sunrot: “21%”

Vandal Moon: “Queen Of The Night”

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omegaplus · 1 year ago

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# 4,488

September 15 & 16, 2022.

Male Tears: “Dealer”

Bedbug: “Songs About Ghosts”

Gauche: “Cycles”

Smash Your Enemies: “Faithless”

Courtney Love (indie): “Stripmine”

Axe Rash: “Bury Your Way Out”

Curse Mackey: “After You, Destruction”

Ducks Ltd.: “Sheets Of Grey”

Gauche: “Boom Hazard”

Nick Klein: “A Bundle And Some Speakers”

JPEGMAFIA: “The 27 Club”

Beirut: “So Slowly”

Dead Leaf Echo: “Milk.blue.kisses (Foil In Motion)”

Marine Girls: “On My Mind”

Katy & Nick: “Dinner Line”

Pom Pom Squad: “Popular”

Thanks For Coming: “Hard Drive”

Male Tears: “2AM”

Traps PS: “Prim Dancer”

7 Year Bitch: “You Smell Lonely”

Mediaslaves: “%”

Restraining Order: “Upper Class Bum”

Revolting Cocks: “Get Down” (EXT)

Old Iron: “Planetisimal”

Courtney Love: “My Last Night”

Television Personalities: “Happy Families”

Soda Lilies: “At Night” (demo)

Paper Dollhouse: “Emeralds”

Marbled Eye: “New Crease”

Male Tears: “Hit Me”

Silent Servant: “Slasher”

Siouxsie & The Banshees: “Party’s Fall”

Katy & Nick: “Sailor”

Kaputt: “Accordion”

Guerilla Toss: “Famously Alive”

Television Personalities: Posing At The Roundhouse”

Totally Unicorn: “Dead Before A Live Audience”

Infinity Land: “Small Town Ritual Abuse”

DJ Muggs & Riggs: “Heads On The Wall”

Acumen Nation: “Gun Lover”

Mess: “F.T.W.”

JPEGMAFIA: “What’s Crackin”

Michael Berdan: “Combat Shock (Sentimental About the Taste of Gun Oil)"

Breakfast Muff: "Crocodile"

Mr. Elevator: "I Am The Moon"

Belk: "Question Of Stress"

Fight Amp: "Ex Everything"

Spike Hellis: "Rook"

Baby Strange: "Midnight"

Smirk: "Irrelevant Man"

Vandal Moon: "Young. Deadly. Beautiful"

Exek: "ID'ed"

Akitsa: "Vers La Victoire"

Happy Meals / Free Love: "May You Be The Mother"

Sunrot: "21%"

Vandal Moon: "Queen Of The Night"

#personal #NYC #New York City #BK #Brooklyn #Cold Waves

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duskofendflame · 1 year ago

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ooc; TOA Anniversary Munday!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

tagging: you! :D

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Name: Vergil (Also go by Envy but I want to get used to the fun and totally nonbinary name of Vergil)

Pronouns: she/he/they

Birthday (no year): November 14th

Where are you from? What is your time zone? Iowa, Central time zone babyyyyy

Roleplay experience: About the one year I've spent in TOA teehee

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Got any pets? I have a cat named Blue :D

Favorite time of year: Autumn

Some interests and things you like: Wouldn't you like to know weather boy? (Don't ask about my interests I will never shut up)

Some funfacts & trivia about you: What if a guy was just a little autism boy with a fucked up gender :p

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Resident Evil, Xenoblade, Devil May Cry, etc. (I couldn't think of anymore but I know there's more)

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: Dragon! Appletun :softsmile: and also Quagsire, because I love him

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How did you get into Fire Emblem? A friend of mine introduced it to me in 6th grade and like any autistic child I immediately got completely obssessed

What Fire Emblem games have you played? Played myself is just Awakening, Fates, Warriors (pensive), Three Houses, Three Hopes (Never finished), and Engage :D. I just started Blazing Blade (finished Lyn mode, played first chapter of Eliwood mode. This will probably be wrong by tomorrow. I have to see my babygirl.)

First Fire Emblem game: Fates

Favorite Fire Emblem game: Fates (crying). (Could become Blazing once I finish)

Any Fire Emblem crushes? Camilla, because she was my lesbian Awakening. Though pretty much any woman will get me :flushed: Ursula most recently.

If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? - Awakening: Chrom - Fates: Jakob- Three Houses: Claude I think - Engage: Alfred (Male Alear)

Favorite Fire Emblem class: Kinshi Knight (birb :))

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class? Either a Malig Knight or a Kinshi Knight. WEEEEEEEE

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? Black Eagles

If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with? Corrin :3

---

How did you find TOA? I stalked the twitter for like a year before I finally decided to give it a shot after seeing a wanted list :)

Current TOA muses: Kurthnaga and Corrin (M). Secret third (wouldn't you like to know weather boy?)

Who was your first TOA muse? If you don’t have them anymore, could you see yourself picking them up again? Velouria, maybe if under the right circumstances. It would take a lot to bring her back though.

Have you had any other TOA muses? Morgan (F), Izana, Zephia, Cadros. Anankos (don't look at me)

Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards? Dragon and/or inhuman in some sort of way. Or mage boys/girls. Teens with issues as well. What if a guy was emotionally constipated at 15.

What do you believe you enjoy writing the most? Uh. I don't know :pensive:

Favorite TOA-related memory: Kurthnaga/Valter dollhouse married :3

Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day in TOA that you’d like to share? Points at my unused Yukimura blog. And the Ursula blog I made yesterday that will never get used because I know nothing about elibe FLKSLKJDSJLK

#ooc: what should i do now?#ooc post #//reposting bc old one was already technically wrong #//i know it's not monday anymore shhhhh

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poppletonink · 1 year ago

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BOOK REVIEW: All Good Things - Amanda Prowse

★★★★☆ - 4 stars

"All good things come to those who wait. Just you wait and see."

Money, happiness, perfection - the Kelleways had it all. The golden family of Four Oaks; the perfect family that people can't help but stare at from afar. Daisy Harrop wanted nothing more than to be like them - to escape her boring life, with her depressed mother and the shabbiest house on the street. Winnie Kelleway couldn't be more proud of her family, of their riches, of their image. Celebrating her 40th wedding anniversary with her husband, her children and her grandchildren is all the proof needed of how perfectly happy her life is. Except, everyone has their secrets, don't they? As each of the Kelleway's secrets come to light the perfect life Winnie has built begins to fall apart. Events spiral out of control and Daisy and Winnie learn that things aren't always what they seem.

All Good Things is, in a way, the perfect hybrid between Gossip Girl and Melanie Martinez' song Dollhouse. It's extremely dramatic (in a manner similar to a soap opera) creating an effect of not wanting to put it down. The twists and turns are really unexpected and it keeps you completely and utterly hooked until the very last word.

Cleo and Georgie were the only characters with a sense of sanity. They would actually be bearable in real life, unlike 95% of the cast of this book. Cassian was undoubtedly the best character - he just wanted to be happy and for his family to be happy. Pretty much everyone else was self-absorbed, superficial and materialistic. I found Winnie genuinely unbearable; half of the time it seemed like she lived a life constantly wearing rose tinted glasses and the other half she was judging every single person she met. All Good Things is a very character based book, with characters who are extremely flawed in order to prove the point of not everyone's life is what it seems from an external point of view. It's told from multiple points of view, so you get to see what happens to almost every character over the course of the anniversary weekend - understanding the ups and downs of the Harrops family and the Kelleways. It's an extremely clever book that displays its message really well.

All Good Things, as dramatic as it is was an amazing read and one I'd definitely recommend. You find yourself rooting for some characters and screaming at others, turning the pages at a rapid pace with the all-consuming need to know what else could possibly happen to these people. It's my first of Amanda Prowse's catalogue and it's safe to say that it will not be my last. An intriguing and gripping read, All Good Things is definitely one to add to your TBR.

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playboy-jewelry · 1 year ago

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Playboy Belly Ring Pink Heart Bunny Dangle Body Jewelry Swarovski Crystal NWT xo.

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rashivermaofficial · 2 years ago

Video

vimeo

Happy Krishna Janmashtami 2022 | कृष्ण जन्माष्टमी की हार्दिक शुभकामनाएं from Rashi Verma on Vimeo.

Krishna Janmashtami has a lot of importance in Hinduism. The birth anniversary of Lord Shri Krishna is known as Krishna Janmashtami. The festival of Krishna Janmashtami is celebrated every year on the Ashtami date of the Krishna Paksha of Bhadrapada i.e. Bhado month. Some astrologers are of the opinion that the festival of Janmashtami will be celebrated on 18th August, while some say that the festival of Janmashtami is celebrated in the eighth Muhurta of Ashtami date which will be on 19th August. This year the 5250th birth anniversary of Lord Krishna will be celebrated.

हिंदू धर्म में कृष्ण जन्माष्टमी का बहुत अधिक महत्व होता है। भगवान श्री कृष्ण के जन्मोत्सव को कृष्ण जन्माष्टमी के नाम से जाना जाता है। हर साल भाद्रपद यानी भादो मास के कृष्ण पक्ष की अष्टमी तिथि को कृष्ण जन्माष्टमी का त्योहार मनाया जाता है। कुछ ज्योतिषाचार्यों का मत है कि जन्माष्टमी का पर्व 18 अगस्त को मनाया जाएगा, जबकि कुछ का कहना है कि जन्माष्टमी का पर्व अष्टमी तिथि के आठवें मुहूर्त में मनाया जाता है जो कि 19 अगस्त को रहेगा। इस साल भगवान श्रीकृष्ण का 5250वां जन्मोत्सव मनाया जाएगा।

अष्टमी तिथि-

18 अगस्त को सप्तमी तिथि रात 09 बजकर 20 मिनट तक रहेगी। इसके बाद अष्टमी तिथि शुरू होगी, जो कि 19 अगस्त को रात 10 बजकर 59 मिनट तक रहेगी।

आधी रात को मनाया जाता है जन्माष्टमी का त्योहार-

जन्माष्टमी का त्योहार अष्टमी तिथि के दिन रात 12 बजे मनाया जाता है। ऐसे में 18 अगस्त की रात जन्माष्टमी का त्योहार मनाया जाना चाहिए। कई लोगों का मानना है कि भगवान श्रीकृष्ण का जन्म अष्टमी तिथि के आठवें मुहूर्त में हुआ था जो कि 19 अगस्त को रहेगा।

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nobodyfamousposts · 4 years ago

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Blue Memories (lbscexchange2021)

Yay! It’s Valentine’s Day!

Soooo....who wants a sad?

He opened the door for Marinette and gently escorted her inside.

She looked around, surveying every detail. The baby blue of the accent wall. The furniture in all of its strange varieties of makes that still somehow fit together. The assortment of decorations from the little black cat figurine that had been a joke housewarming gift from friends to her potted plants lined up at the wide windows—still tenderly cared for, even in her absence. All things that were part of the home. All things that made the home their own.

And yet, not a single hint of warmth came to her eyes.

“This is…my house?”

Ours, he didn’t say.

After all the things they had experienced throughout the years—the monsters they’d fought, the battles they’d won, the people they’d saved…

It seemed so surreal that it was something as simple as a car accident that would take her down.

She stepped through the entryway into the main room—tentative. Unsure. Like she didn’t think she belonged. Her grip on her cane tightened, belying her anxiety.

He rested a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. Allowing her to use him as her other support as she was forced to confront a home she didn’t know and memories she couldn’t recall.

“Just…take a bit of time to familiarize.” He whispered.

I will be with you every step of the way.

She took a breath but nodded before moving forward, and for a second—

Standing tall, wearing her suit like armor, her shoulders broad and head high in steely determination even in the face of overwhelming odds—

Luka could see the courageous young woman he loved in this stranger’s frame.

For her part, Marinette was…handling the circumstances if nothing else.

She stepped away from him, standing with only her cane and her one good leg for support. Rather than immediately head for the couch or any place to rest, she wandered the room, taken in by the all of the remnants of a person she used to be.

There was an array of frames along the wall as she passed, each containing memorabilia from newspaper clippings to artwork to awards. She gave them a cursory glance, none of them really standing out. At most, she barely touched one that contained a pink ribbon—

“Isn’t this a bit much? And a bit silly?”

Alya had gasped in mock outrage. “Girl, this is your own design house! We have to have a ribbon cutting ceremony to make it official! Otherwise, what have our years of labor been for?”

Marinette giggled. “You mean my labor?”

“Hey, don’t forget who did the interviews.” The other woman said with a wink.

More giggling.

“Of course, of course! I never would have gotten this far without you. Any of you.”

“And don’t forget it!” More giggling. “And besides, a happy opening is a sign of a happy beginning. This is your dream, girl! Go all out and enjoy it becoming real!”

“Okay, okay! So how will we do this?”

Luka smiled as he brought over the fancy scissors.

—pink ribbon, a couple inches thick, contained in a frame along with a picture of a group of strangers standing outside a building.

He carefully took their bags back to their his room, allowing her a moment to reflect and himself time to gain some composure.

To think it would be a car accident that did this. Not some epic villain battle, no. A stupid car accident because of her insistence on meeting him at the airport and some idiot who decided to run a red light. He'd consider laughing if he wasn't on the verge of breaking down…

But…she needed him. More than ever now.

When he returned, she was standing at the wall aligning with the window, lightly touching the dollhouse that was stationed there.

“Do we…did we have kids?”

“No.” Not yet.

It was grand—a four storied house with five rooms on each floor, each fully furnished in different ways. Its outside had the design of a cozy cottage, with walls were painted with a soft pink as well as white doors and window shutters. All of which were moveable, to her amazement.

“Where did we even get something like this?”

It had been a labor of love.

She hadn’t wanted to leave the kwamis stuck in the Miracle Box with no idea of the happenings in the world. And as they had begun spending more time outside, Marinette had been insistent that the kwamis deserved their own space outside of the Box. It had taken her weeks to make it—and multiple failed attempts.

She gave them their own home within hers. She’d wanted them to feel welcome.

It may very well have been the first time the little gods had cried.

“It was…a project.”

She frowned, but didn’t speak further. Her gaze turned to the nearby shelf on the adjoining wall. Holding a number of books. A single bin full of yarn for knitting. Two guitars rested along the side.

“Luka, it’s beautiful, but…why?”

“Why not?” He smiled.

“But…I’m not much of a guitar player. You know that. I’m not like you, Mr. Top 20 three-weeks-in-a-row. I still don’t know how to play the guitar.”

She moved to put it back in its case, but he pulled her back and into his lap along with the guitar. Her squawk of surprise only made him grin, and he placed a kiss to her head.

“That just means you’ll have more opportunity to learn.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

“Do you play?” She had asked, curious as she looked over the two guitars.

He smiled bitterly.

“Wow,” Dingo whistled as he peeked through the curtains. “Quite a crowd out there.”

“I’m not sure I can do this.” Luka muttered.

It had been one thing when he had been playing with Kitty Section. But the band had gone their separate ways and now he was playing center stage.

“No worries. It’s only your first show. If you choke, who will even remember?”

He sighed. “Yeah, see, that? That’s not helping.”

“I’ll tell you something that will, though…” Dingo trailed off with a smirk. Before Luka could react, the other wrapped an arm around his neck and dragged him to view the opening in the curtain.

“Dingo!”

“Take a look!”

Luka glared at his friend—or tried, but Dingo’s grip around his neck really kept him from turning in any direction besides the one the other wanted.

Dingo, for his part, didn’t even have the grace to look back, instead grinning at something through the curtain.

“A certain little lady in the center seat of the middle row.”

Luka froze. And immediately, his eyes glanced over the crowd, searching for…

Dark hair.

Blue eyes.

A bright neon pink sign with his name.

Her smile.

He breathed.

“Mari…”

Dingo clapped him on the back and released him.

“If you can’t play for your fans, play for her. You know she’ll always listen…”

“Yeah.” He answered.

What else could he say?

He’d built up his music career over years. For all that she had been busy with her own design house, she had still be there for him every step of the way. Supporting him. Inspiring him.

And now only one of them still knew that.

“Congratulations on the release of your new single!”

Ah.

He winced as the flashing lights hit him.

For all the time he spent on tour, he would never get used to this.

“Thank you.”

He knew better than to respond. It wouldn’t be enough. It was like an avalanche of questions and microphones barreling down on him.

“Mr. Couffaine! How do you feel about your ranking on the Music’s Top Ten?”

“Is there any truth to the rumors that you are doing a collaboration piece with Jagged Stone?”

“Are you really having an illicit affair with XY?”

“Luka Couffaine, you just completed the last stop of your world tour! What are you going to do now?”

Finally, the one question he wanted to answer.

“I have someone to see.”

It had been both a dismissal and an explanation as he took his leave to wait for his ride.

Tomorrow was their anniversary, after all. He’d managed to schedule the end of his tour to give him just enough space to make it back in time to spend it with her.

Marinette was probably already waiting at the airport at this moment.

Or at least…she should have been?

He checked his watch. Was he early? A bit, but not by much…it had been a little last minute for her, though. Maybe she was caught in traffic?

His phone rang. Was that her?

“Hello?”

“…”

“…what?”

He winced and turned away, trying to fight back the burning in his eyes.

Maybe she saw his reaction because she went silent as well. The tension of the room heightened, near to the point of stifling. For all that he wanted to reach out to her, there was a distance between them that felt…impassible.

He heard her move further into the room. Closer to the kitchen, it sounded like. He listened as something seemed to slide briefly across the countertop, as if she had picked up something for a closer look. Despite his better judgement, his curiosity got the better of him and he turned to see—

It had been hell. The date. The entire day. Hell. To the point he was convinced that some higher powers were giving a sign that this relationship wasn’t meant to be.

Except it wasn’t a sign, it was a fucking billboard.

He’d had it all planned out. Picking her up in his new car. They would have dinner together, followed by a movie, coffee and dessert at a nice little cafe he’d heard good things about, then a stroll by the Seine.

Except whatever higher power up there hated him, apparently.

First the car—the brand new (okay, only slightly used) car he’d recently purchased wouldn’t start, so he’d had to ride his bike to reach her. This meant the restaurant was a no go, meaning his reservation that he’d put in a good month in advance went to waste. Marinette had suggested they just walk to the movie which he was fine with, except that it started raining and the theater in question suffered a power outage. Desperately trying to salvage the night, he’d led her to the cafe anyway only to find they had apparently gone out of business the day before.

Luka was…done. He was just done. He’d apologized profusely and tried to call a cab for her before he’d walk home in the rain so he could scream into his pillow.

Suffice to say, he was pretty sure the date was a bust. And would likely be the first and last he’d ever get with her.

But while he’d been on the phone discovering that traffic was backed up and even THAT much of the night wasn’t going to go right either, Marinette had noticed a little souvenir kiosk under an awning nearby. He hadn’t known what specifically had caught her eye, but when she returned, it was with a thermos of tea she had brought from home and two little mugs she’d just purchased—both with their own different engravings.

She passed the "I AM WEIRD" cup to him. Was…was this a joke? Was she saying something?

He wasn't sure what it was until he saw her blushing as she sipped from her own cup, clearly displaying the engraving of "I LOVE WIERD".

The night went wrong in so many ways. But there…huddling from the rain under the storefront tarp, sitting next to her...he felt warmer than the hot tea could have been responsible for.

She held the “I LOVE WEIRD” cup gingerly, staring at the porcelain as if it could tell her its secrets. But when nothing could be found, she set it back at its previous place and continued on.

Marinette’s gaze had moved on to the next item of interest. She peered into the various photographs lining the top of the nearby shelf. Each contained images of a young couple. A man with teal hair and a lip ring along with a woman with dark blue hair and earrings. The pictures varied—them hugging while bundled up in the winter season, him picking her up and her holding him tightly for balance, them dancing at an outdoor festival, them making silly faces in a photobooth. Each one of them smiling.

One that kept her attention, however, had the man in a tuxedo and the woman in a stunning floor length dress. It was white with an illusion neckline, and bore the images of petals. But the truly striking feature was the airbrushed effect at the bottom of the dress as it changed from white to vibrant teal and finally to black—a clear match to the hair of the man standing beside her.

It was a wedding.

She had said he inspired her dress. That she had made it with him in mind. He had believed her, of course. He never needed her to prove she loved him.

But oh, how his heart had sung seeing her like that. In his colors. Showing the world whom she belonged with.

He had barely heard anything the priest had said. He had to have stumbled in his vows at least twice. He was torn between burning to touch her and yet not wanting to dare to—that something so beautiful shouldn’t be touched.

He would never forget the way she had reached out for him instead and held his hands with hers as she said she wanted to start a life with him.

She picked up the picture.

“It’s beautiful.”

It’s her.

“It’s beautiful. And I can’t…I don’t…”

Like gravity had failed her, she collapsed rather than sat onto the sofa—

That ugly, ugly leather sofa that Jagged had insisted they take with them from Marinette’s brief stint as his personal designer.

“No, you keep it, Mari. You’re gonna need something to spruce up your new place.”

“Jagged, seriously. That thing is hideous and I don’t need it.”

“What are you talking about? It’s perfect! It’s leather! And sturdy! And you can even pull it out into more of a bed. Besides, who knows when you’ll be bringing a studly young man to your place and need something to ‘rock it’ in, eh?”

“Oh my god, Jagged, please don’t!”

“Ey, Luka! Come on, mi boy, back me up!”

“Luka, don’t you dare—!”

Luka, for his part, kept his focus on cleaning his equipment and wisely said nothing.

He moved to her side without thinking.

“Mari…”

“What…” She looked up at him, hopelessly lost. “What now? What do…we do?”

She held the picture frame to her, as if trying to fill the hole in her heart that once contained years worth of love.

“I don’t know what…I don’t know how to…”

She sobbed.

If the phone call had shattered his world, this had crushed the remaining pieces.

“What…what are you saying?”

The doctor sighed.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Couffaine. But the damage of the crash and the shock of the incident has led to some trauma. We are running tests, but there is no way to tell just how great the extent is or how long it will last.”

He barely heard the words for what they were. Percentages. Chances. Outcomes. Luck.

She’d always beaten the odds before, hadn’t she?

She could…

Surely, she could…

He barely noticed when the doctor had led him to the white—white, white horrible white room.

And the all too pale and shaken woman resting inside.

“Who are you?”

It was her eyes.

Her beautiful blue eyes.

But not a trace of familiarity.

“Hello, Marinette.”

He smiled, trying to not let tears fall.

“My name is Luka…”

He slowly moved to sit beside her, taking his wife into his arms like he always did.

It…wasn’t the same.

"It'll be okay..."

Throughout his life, Luka had always been a river. Slow. Steady. Constantly cutting a path through life and through the world.

Luka was a river.

But for Marinette, he had been her rock.

“We’ll make new ones.” He promised her.

Day by day. Moment by moment. He would stay with her and make new memories.

It wouldn’t replace what was lost.

But they would make it together.

#ml fic #lbscexchange2021 #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #lukanette #ml angst #ml sad #car accident #memory loss

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sims-through-the-decades · 3 years ago

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The Millard Family | 1927

Little Dorothy is practically a perfect child! She is always smiling and laughing, and rarely cries. Both her mother and her father love her very much.

Before long, the sweet little girl celebrates her first birthday. Like her older brother James, she looks very much like her mother!

The other Millard children are growing up too. Edna has finally started to play with the dollhouse her mother bought her for her birthday, but it seems like she is more interested in chewing the poor dolls’ heads off than she is in playing with them.

James, meanwhile, has recently started school. Despite his young age, he is already proving to be intelligent and studious; he gets good grades, and always remembers to bring in his homework on time.

As a reward, his mother and father buy him something that he has been asking for for a long time: his very own painting easel. From then on, every day after school, James spends hours upon hours painting at his easel. George tries to encourage him to run around outside like he did when he was younger, but James always refuses.

The children are not the only ones who are doing well. One day, George comes home from work with a big smile on his face, and announces to Margaret that he has been promoted! Margaret, of course, is very proud of him: she knows how hard her husband works, and she also knows that the family needs the extra money.

In between the happy occasions, however, there is a little sadness. The tenth anniversary of Thomas’ death soon comes, and George goes to the graveyard with his parents. Even after ten years, George still misses his little brother very much. By now, he would be thirty years old; perhaps, if it were not for the horrors of war, he would even be married and have his own family.

While at the graveyard, George also notices something else: his father William is not the man he once was. He has grown old and frail over the years, and George knows, deep down, that he does not have many more years left to spend with his father.

Even so, when he comes home to Margaret and the children that evening, he knows that his father is very proud of him, and that his brother would be as well. He may not have achieved his life-long dream yet, but for now, he is happy: he has a beautiful home, a loving wife, three wonderful children, and two proud parents who have raised him to become the man he is today.

#the millard family | the 1920s #decades challenge #legacy challenge #history challenge #ts3 #the sims 3 #simblr

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dollhouse-rp · 4 years ago

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ANON LOVE DAY;

It’s the classic warning post about ANON LOVE DAY. Every month from the 24th-26th. This gives everyone enough time to send out any messages without hitting ask limit and being banished by the tumblrverse!

This period of time is regular roleplaying but with the additional benefit of sending out of character messages to one another celebrating each others writing, characterisation or maybe even just how much you like someone! These messages can contain absolutely anything as long as they are full of LOVE. This is a way of keeping us all connected, happy and appreciated. All asks should be anonymous!

I would also like to say how extremely happy and proud I am to annouce that this is around the two month and one week (I have to be awkward) anniversary of the dollhouse opening. How luck I am to have the chance to write with some of the most fabulous and talented people around. Thank you all for being a part of this story and bringing all these little dolls to life once and for all!

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smallsecrets-sanderssidesau · 5 years ago

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Small Secrets Part 1 (Patton’s POV)

TW: drugged, kidnapping, unsympathetic patton.

Patton left the lasagna in the oven to cook and grabbed the small plates with the food for Roman and Virgil, he was always sad when he couldn’t have dinner with his boyfriends, but this night was special.

His new boyfriend, Dorian, was coming over for they one month anniversary, and Patton was ready to know if he could join the others in the dollhouse, Dee would look so cute at that size and Patton really hoped he wouldn’t run away.

He walked to his room closing the door behind him once he entered, he left the plates on the desk and sat in front of the dollhouse, knocking three times on the front wall where Virgil’s room was, he did the same with Roman’s afterwards and waited until he heard three knocks back coming from the lower part of the dollhouse, he grinned and opened it revealing the living room, kitchen and the dining room.

Two small figures stood in the center waiting for Patton to give them the food “sorry if it’s a bit early than usual, but I won’t be having dinner with you tonight and I have to leave your food early”

Roman and Virgil glanced at each other briefly, They were used to Patton not eating lunch with them because of his work or a date, but don’t having dinner with them was unusual, and Virgil knew the last time he didn’t Roman had arrived, it was lonely with just the two of them there, but they didn’t want another guy to be trapped too.

However, Patton has been looking for a third boyfriend for a long time, and this was the forth time in almost half a year he missed dinner, unfortunately, none of the past guys wanted to date a polyamorous person, it seemed cruel but the only reason they were there was because they were nice people.

“And why would that be Pat?” Asked Roman, even if both of them knew what was happening.

Virgil stood there silent, despite being there the longest, he was always nervous to talk, so, ever since Roman arrived, he would ask the questions and Virgil avoided speaking to Patton most of the time.

Patton giggled “I’m glad you asked Ro! My new boyfriend’s coming over, and I’m sure he’s one of us, you two will love him if everything goes according to plan” he said with a wide smile.

None of them would ever admit it, but Virgil and Roman were glad to see Patton so happy and determined, even if that meant shrinking and kidnapping another person, Patton was always a little possessive with his boyfriends and the first time someone rejected him for who he was was heartbreaking for the three of them, being a very emotional person, Patton always had a hard time accepting there were people who didn’t want someone like him.

“But don’t worry” he said, reaching to pet Roman’s head “I’ll always love you two no matter who joins us” he smiled and petted Virgil’s head next “And I’m sure you’ll help him to set in”

They were interrupted by a knocking on the front door, Patton stopped the petting and grabbed the plates with food “That must be him, he’s a bit early” he left the plates on the table in the dollhouse “I was hoping to spend more time with you until he arrived, but it doesn’t matter, I’ll let you know how everything goes” he smiled and closed the dollhouse.

(Fast forward to after Dee accepted Patton’s polyamorous self bc I don’t want to write everything again)

Patton walked to the kitchen with the glasses on his hands and a wide smile on his face, everything was going as he expected, he tried to control his excitement and walked to the sink, he filled both glasses and left them in the counter, grabbed the bottle with the shrinking formula from his secret hide spot, opened it and used the dropper to put ten drops of formula in Dee’s water.

He grabbed it with his right hand and grabbed his own with the left one, walking back to the dining room “I’m back” he said smiling, making sure to leave the right drink in front of Dee before sitting back on his place.

After dinner, and making sure Dorian finished his water, Patton knew there was only a matter of time before the shrinking process started, he stood up and offered his hand to his boyfriend, knowing they were going to cuddle and watch a movie like every date on Dorian’s house.

Dee grabbed it and almos instantly lost balance and fell in Patton’s arms “B-Babe are you okay?” He asked, trying to sound worried, he knew the formula acted different on each person, Both Virgil and Roman had different reactions to it, and he didn’t know what to expect with Dee, he walked to the couch dragging Dorian with him, letting him lean on it.

“I-I don’t know, I just... felt dizzy all of sudden” Dorian said grabbing the couch behind him.

“Do you need something? I can bring you another cup of water or-“

“No no” interrupted Dorian “I’m fine... I-I just need to lay down for a... f-for a bit” he said, before fainting on the couch. Patton let go of his hand and sat at the side of the couch, he stroked his boyfriend’s hair as he felt how his head became smaller each second “Don’t worry, this will be over soon”

Dorian kept shrinking until he was only a couple of inches tall, Patton scooped up his shrunken boyfriend’s unconscious body and leaned him on his chest “You’re mine now, all mine”

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 5 years ago

Note

There will be a lot of screaming tonight - with Grayson? btw I looooove these halloween prompts😍

Halloween Masterlist - DT special

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

𝓢𝓔𝓡𝓘𝓐𝓛 𝓚𝓘𝓛𝓛𝓔𝓡 ~ G𝓡𝓐𝓨𝓢𝓞𝓝 𝓓𝓞𝓛𝓐𝓝

Part one

Part two

Part three

This whole damn series is a WARNING so don’t read if you’re not good with anything serial killer related.

Part five

Finale

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

If she’d rehearsed this conversation once, she’d rehearsed it a thousand times, It had to end. Now that she’d got to the door her mouth had gone dry and her heart was beating more forcefully than it usually did. She raised her finger to the buzzer, then lowered it to her side.

Could she do this?

The dread and anxiety deadened her mind and body. In her frozen state she let out a shaky breath, closing her weary eyes. Instead of ringing the bell, she grasped the doorknob, the cold metal sending a shiver up her already quivering arm. Deep breaths.

Her heart ricocheted off her rib cage and she slowly turned the handle till there was a crack in the door.

‘Can I do this?’ she thought, shaking her head rapidly, disallowing her second thoughts to get the better of her.

Smoothing out the crinkles in her dress, fixing her fraying hair, she had taken a deep breath. Almost mindlessly, she swung open the door to the fate that awaited.

The apartment was empty as he promised it would be, a silent place for the pair to find closure. Y/N knew there was a good chance she’d never walk out of the apartment she set foot in, because her fate had been sealed the day she met Grayson Dolan. Her fate had been sealed with every kiss, every caress, every ‘I love you’ and every time he had spent savoring her body. But most of all, her fate had been sealed the night she had fired a gun without hesitation, the bullet aimed at his heart…the night she thought she killed him, but failed miserably.

Every night since, her phone would ring at exactly 2:22 AM. Number was blocked every time, dead silence on the other side of the line ever since the first call, only heavy breathing heard for a solid minute before the line went dead. Until she heard him again.

“I’ll send you an address. You will come. ALONE. You will come. UNARMED. You will come and we will finish this. Babe.”

She felt the cage she stepped in close in on her, every step further inside was a new act of stupid bravery, but she thought it to be just…stupid. Stupid to come alone as he requested. Stupid to come unarmed as he requested. Stupid to come at all at his request.

“Grayson?” She stopped in the middle of the hall, tired of the games, tired of the weight on her heart. He felt like dead weight and she was barely holding onto the surface as it is. Y/N was ready to either live or die, for him to let her go or take her life as he intended because life without him was painful - feeling guilty about loving him was worse.

“Still playing games?” She scoffed, turning around in her spot, defiant and stubborn…fearless. And he enjoyed it. He enjoyed her. Every reaction, every word, every piece of her puzzle…he never thought he’d really enjoy puzzles, but there he is - staying in the shadows of the apartment whose owner will never return to for he made sure of it, watching her as she baits him, calls on him to come out and do as he pleased. And he knew she knew he wouldn’t let her walk away this time. He had plans for his dear Y/N - his favorite toy.

“I’m fucking annoyed, Grayson. You know I hate games!” She groaned, rolling her eyes before walking inside the room on her left, finding a big bed decorated with rose petals and candles lighting the room in an identical way as it did back when they celebrated their first anniversary. Bastard was playing her, and she wasn’t blind to it. Just frustrated…frustrated because she still hoped there was a part of him that loved her - even if it was minuscule. But she had read enough on psychopaths and serial killers to know she can’t redeem him because this wasn’t a romance novel and there wasn’t a happy ending in the cards.

“Oh, I remember.” His voice is deep, a little rough around the edges as if he hadn’t spoken in a while. Or it’s his voice she had forgotten in her attempt to get him out of her mind.

But she didn’t. She’d never forget his voice. She wished she could, but that wasn’t possible for her.

Turning around, she spread her arms, cackling at the situation.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She continued to laugh, forcing a smile on his lips at the sound - at the sheer madness in her eyes, the unchanging snort that would escape, the way she’d place a hand on her midsection - he always smiled when she’d laugh, finding her laugh ridiculously entertaining.

“We never got to celebrate our three year mark.” Grayson shrugged, tucking his hands in the front pockets of his jeans casually, as if this is just a simple date for two people who have made each other promises - as if he wasn’t a serial killer, as if the promises he made meant a damn thing.

“You know I’m not squeamish, but you could have given me a chance to use my safe word before hurting me so bad.” And his lecture had stopped her fits of uncontrollable laughter, stopped her breathing altogether. This was it. This was his endgame.

“You never let me use my safe word when you tore out my fucking heart.” She says in her exhale, struggling to find a way to breathe properly as he comes closer toward her with each exchange.

“But I let you live.” He snarled, licking his lips as his eyes invited a darkness she had last seen only as he held her up by her throat a little over a year ago.

“I won’t live for long, right? You said you’d come back for me and here you are…third time’s the charm, right?” She quipped, sitting back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of standing still and looking pretty while he spilled her blood.

“If you stayed with me, I’d have killed you bit by bit. That’s what I do to those who love me.” Grayson sighed, forcefully grabbing her by the throat, lifting her up like she’s weightless - a feather on the palm of his hand.

“If I have enough power over you, it puts me in control. It makes me strong. It gives me satisfaction.” He’s leaning in, slowly pushing closer and closer, his mouth moving but her brain is barely catching the words.

She wasn’t afraid of death. She wasn’t afraid of him. She was simply acting on instinct when her hands gripped her and her fingernails dug into his skin. She wasn’t writhing against his hold because she wanted to live, but because evolution built her to fight against harm and he was hurting her right now. And he was fully aware of that. Of the pressure he added with each sentence he spoke into existence, knowing she would black out any moment now.

“You’re my little doll, and your life is determined by what happens in my dollhouse.” Pecking her lips, Grayson smiled against the soft touch of the gentle pressure he felt on her behalf as she struggled to breathe. He smiled as the tingling sensation passed through his body at the feel of her being so close, at his mercy and completely his to do what he pleased.

“There will be a lot of screaming tonight.”

Tags: @dolanstwintuesday @peacedolantwins @xalayx @godlydolans @heyits-claire @dolandolll @ethanhes

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