#he needs to pay his fUCKING CHILD SUPPORT JESSICA

[gothixm00nz]

"YoU cAn'T gIvE vErGiL a ReDeMtIoN aRc!!!!"

just you fuckin' watch me bitch

[seitmai]

Everyone knew that they shouldn't talk about it in front of him for fear that the ladies would snap their necks. Even Nat was being very kind and considerate which wasn't really like her at all. 

They 100% would

He didn't know how to respond, so he just kept walking. He had no idea what to say or what to think. It wasn't like he could stop loving someone overnight. He didn't really want to either. Anna's life was quite frankly messier than he had ever expected. She did a pretty good job of hiding it from everyone, and it seemed like she would have continued down that path if they didn't have sex. And that was the other issue; it wasn't just sex to Bob. Anna knew about the things he tried to hide himself, and she seemed to want him in that moment anyway.

😭💔😭💔

But I'll never see them on my shelf,

Unless you come back and stay this time.

He said it once and says it again, she can't keep running, be he will be there 🥺

"Has Bob said anything about me?" Both of them looked at her, and she quickly added, "I can't stop thinking about him." Jessica smiled softly and said, "Not a word, but I've never seen him look so sad. And I mean that in a good way, because although I know he's confused and hurt, I'm pretty sure he just misses you."

They truly are each others missing puzzle piece🥺

"I could kill someone," Jessica muttered under her breath, and truly Anna almost laughed, because Jessica Reed was one of the gentlest people she'd ever met. The most violent thing about her was her Dungeons & Dragons character. "I could at least probably slap him."

Hahah I loved the whole conversation and how supportive they are 🫶🏻 Especially thay Jessica's first reaction is to kill Kevin almost killed me 😂

Nat scoffed when he told her where he was going, and he truly did appreciate that his friend wanted him to proceed with caution, but she just didn't understand how Anna made him feel. Being friends with her after sleeping together a total of one time might kill him, but he knew that was probably all he could have now.

I love Nat and I get that she is protective but damn what's up with her? I once again am on my agenda to find an academic lover for Nat haha

As he got closer to the loft railing, he saw her glance up and meet his eyes like it was some depraved version of Romeo and Juliet.

They really go through all the tragic/dramatic love stories, first Cinderella now Romeo and Juliet, what's next? 🤔

"I do need some more books for my shelves," he replied, and her eyes finally settled on his again. "And you don't have to be nervous around me. I know you're dealing with a lot, and I promise I won't touch you or anything."

I literally wanna cry about how considerate Bob is 🥰😭

Now she just looked sad and distraught, but she nodded and turned down the very aisle where they first met. Bob had to fight to keep a few feet of space between them as she said, "I'm looking for Mary Wollstonecraft, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton."

I didn't look quite as sad and distraught as Anna but certainly surprised reading those names, because I literally had to study them for an exam yesterday lol

"Will you let me drive you home? Not because I think I need to, but because I want to?"

I would melt

"I'm going to deal with my shit. I promise." Unsure exactly how he should respond, Bob simply said, "Okay."

This is such a simple and short conversation, but it's so meaningful 😭

She hated him. She hated him so much, she was going to call him right now.

Wow Anna you are so much better than me. Calling someone is already a no only if I really really have to/it's and emergency. Calling someone I hate? Fuck no, never. So good for you girl 👏����

The bite was gone from his voice, replaced by a lazy tone, and he spoke to her as if she were a very simple child. "It's not going to happen, Anna. I didn't cut off access to it for no reason. It's worth money. You can pay me for it, or you can kiss it goodbye. I might even publish it myself."

If his words alone wouldn't enrage me, the change is tone? Fucking furious 😤🤬 Jessica, lets go, let's follow your plan!

Covering the Classics Part 12 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Anna noticed that a new poem by her favorite, amateur writer had been posted, she was afraid to read the finality in his tone. But Bob always managed to surprise her. And maybe she could find a way to surprise Kevin, too.

Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, adult language, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

After that, it was radio silence. Anna didn't reach out to Bob, and he didn't try to either. He went to the Hard Deck on Friday night and lasted about an hour before excusing himself. Nobody asked him why he was bailing after one ginger ale and a single cup of peanuts, and that was enough to tell him that everyone knew. Everyone knew he slept with Anna. Everyone knew she was married. Everyone knew that they shouldn't talk about it in front of him for fear that the ladies would snap their necks. Even Nat was being very kind and considerate which wasn't really like her at all. 

When Bob was halfway to the door, he felt a small hand curl around the back of his bicep. "I'll see you tomorrow night for D&D?"

He nodded down at Jessica's hopeful face. "Yeah. I can pick you up if you want."

Her face brightened a little bit. "I'll text you in the morning." He turned to walk out, and her hand slid down his arm. "Hey, Bob? Don't give up hope on her, okay?"

He didn't know how to respond, so he just kept walking. He had no idea what to say or what to think. It wasn't like he could stop loving someone overnight. He didn't really want to either. Anna's life was quite frankly messier than he had ever expected. She did a pretty good job of hiding it from everyone, and it seemed like she would have continued down that path if they didn't have sex. And that was the other issue; it wasn't just sex to Bob. Anna knew about the things he tried to hide himself, and she seemed to want him in that moment anyway. 

Her words from the previous night made him ache. 

'You're perfect. You're Sky Writing. You're the handsome man from the bookstore who smells like tea and soap. You're Bob, the guy my friends knew I would fall in love with as soon as I met them.'

If that meant she was in love with him or that she thought she could be someday, then he was afraid to walk away from her. But now he was terrified of getting hurt or somehow hurting Anna like Kevin had. Part of him believed if he could just see Anna's husband with his own eyes, confirm that he was exactly the way she described him, then he might be able accept that she just needed time to settle her divorce and to heal. If that was the case, he wanted to make it work. 

In the meantime, when he got home, he ended up standing in his living room, staring at his bookshelf before going upstairs and staring at his bed. He could still picture her red hair all spread out for him. He could still feel it between his fingers as the silky strands slid along his palm. He could taste her on his tongue. He could hear her telling him what she wanted.

Bob picked up his computer and slipped under the covers, knowing he wasn't going to be able to sleep right now.

----------------------------

It had been there since early Saturday morning. A new one. Anna desperately wanted to read it and memorize it like she had the others, but she was afraid to face the finality. Her email alert mocked her every time she looked at it.

Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!

Bob wrote a new poem, and she didn't think she could handle reading exactly how he viewed her now. He'd never be like Kevin, openly belittling her or putting her down, but she knew the shiny packaging had been removed now, and he saw what was really inside. Just a mess of a human. She put off reading it and put off reading it, but when she was sitting at her desk at work on Monday, she made herself decide between reading the new poem or calling Kevin. After a fairly short debate, she decided to read the poem. It was probably so bad, calling Kevin later wouldn't even feel painful in comparison. 

She tapped on the link in her email and was taken to something so unexpected, she gasped as she read it.

There is empty space on my bookshelf,

The one I bought with you in mind.

I didn't know it was for you at the time,

But one night made it obvious,

Before an instance took it.

Reality surpassed intention today.

Your worn favorites and mine pristine,

Should mingle and mix,

Genre forgotten.

Dog eared pages became so endearing.

But I'll never see them on my shelf,

Unless you come back and stay this time.

The format was different from what he usually wrote, but it was so obviously Sky Writing. So obviously Bob. So obviously about her. And he didn't sound angry. Could he possibly miss her after everything she did and said?

She jumped when her phone vibrated on her desk, and for a split second, she believed it could be Bob. Her heart beat faster with anticipation, but it was from somebody else.

Jessica Reed: If you don't come down to this weird tree right now, we're going to come up and get you.

Anna had lost track of time. It was after noon now. She knew that her friends were trying to make sure she was holding herself together after she refused to go to the Hard Deck over the weekend. How could she continue to go somewhere that Bob had the rights to first? It wasn't until she read his Sky Writing poem that she thought perhaps there was a chance he might not only be okay with her presence but perhaps even miss her like she missed him.

With her sad little lunch in hand, she dragged herself down to the quad, trying to decide when was the best time to call Kevin. She was tired of going through lawyers who couldn't seem to get him to budge, and each ninety day window just ate away at more of her soul. She should have been so much more careful with her writing when she had the opportunity, and now he'd completely locked her out of being able to access it. 

No, she was going to have to beg him, plead with him, anything it took to get what she wanted without giving away where she'd moved. Maybe if he agreed to let her have her manuscript, one of her friends would let her borrow money for a flight back to New Jersey to retrieve it. She was getting ahead of herself, but she couldn't help it. She needed to at least get this one thing.

"There she is!"

Anna looked up to see her friends directly in front of her on the bench by the tree, and the fact that they both looked happy to see her made her heart ache. "Hi," she said softly as she sat down between them when they both scooted over.

"Hummus?" her friend asked, passing along a container while she bit into her perfect looking chicken salad sandwich on artisan bread. Anna accepted a few bites of Bradley's gourmet snack, because she was absolutely starving today.

"Thanks," she murmured, and she let herself sink into the background a little bit as the two other women continued the conversation they'd been having. Now that she was down here with his friends, she couldn't stop thinking about Bob again. His soft hair and his kind eyes. The way he always paid attention to her when she was talking. How good he made her feel.

She listened to her friends argue about alumni weekend for a few minutes before she finally cut them off to ask, "Has Bob said anything about me?" Both of them looked at her, and she quickly added, "I can't stop thinking about him."

Jessica smiled softly and said, "Not a word, but I've never seen him look so sad. And I mean that in a good way, because although I know he's confused and hurt, I'm pretty sure he just misses you."

"But," the other woman quickly cut in, "the most important thing right now is making sure you take care of yourself. Even if you are in love with Bob."

"Oh!" Jessica exclaimed. "I have an idea! We could just kill Kevin!"

Anna snorted in spite of herself. "That would actually solve a lot of my problems. Maybe even all of them."

"Only one problem with that," Advanced Calculus said blandly. "You're not a killer, Jessica."

"I could kill someone," Jessica muttered under her breath, and truly Anna almost laughed, because Jessica Reed was one of the gentlest people she'd ever met. The most violent thing about her was her Dungeons & Dragons character. "I could at least probably slap him."

"He wouldn't know what hit him," Anna said, and all three women erupted into laughter. And it felt so strange to feel genuine happiness, even if it only lasted for a few seconds, that Anna almost started crying. As their amusement died down, she asked her friends, "Do you think.... Bob would respond if I texted him?"

Jessica squeaked, and then both women said, "Yes."

---------------------------

Bob was back to square one. Back at the bookstore. He was fifteen minutes early. He was already looking through the Classics. He was about to meet up with Anna. He was nervous.

Nat scoffed when he told her where he was going, and he truly did appreciate that his friend wanted him to proceed with caution, but she just didn't understand how Anna made him feel. Being friends with her after sleeping together a total of one time might kill him, but he knew that was probably all he could have now.

It was almost like he could sense that she was there. He looked up from the Shakespeare volume in his hand, and he saw her walk in the door. As he got closer to the loft railing, he saw her glance up and meet his eyes like it was some depraved version of Romeo and Juliet. She mouthed the word Hi before she headed for the stairs, and in less than a minute, she was standing right in front of him. 

Anna looked nervous, but everything else was just the same. Those perfect freckles decorated her face. Her brown eyes were bright. Her pretty hair was in a messy braid. He saw her burgundy nail polish as she fidgeted with her denim jacket. He wanted to know if she still thought he was the kind of person she could love. He wanted to ask her if her husband was any closer to signing papers. Instead he said, "I was surprised when you texted me."

Her eyes went wide, and he wished he could shove his foot in his mouth as she started looking around anywhere but at his face. "I need some books for my feminist literature course, and I just thought maybe you'd like more books for your bookshelf."

Had she read his newest poem? It was a sloppy one that he wrote late on Friday night and posted on a whim. She could have deleted her account by now or vowed never to read anything else by Sky Writing. But that didn't stop the poem from being about her.

"I do need some more books for my shelves," he replied, and her eyes finally settled on his again. "And you don't have to be nervous around me. I know you're dealing with a lot, and I promise I won't touch you or anything."

Now she just looked sad and distraught, but she nodded and turned down the very aisle where they first met. Bob had to fight to keep a few feet of space between them as she said, "I'm looking for Mary Wollstonecraft, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton."

They worked their way slowly up and back down each aisle, falling into a natural conversation in spite of the awkwardness between them. In spite of the way Bob couldn't keep himself from looking at her as she ran her fingers along the spines. When she wanted something that was on a top shelf, he reached it down for her. When her hands got full, he offered his up for her use. And to his delight and also sadness, she kept recommending books for him along the way. That's how he ended up with Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day as well as The Importance of Being Earnest in his hand when she led the way downstairs to pay.

Bob cleared his throat as Anna reached into her pocket for some cash. "I can get them."

Her brown eyes snapped up to meet his, and her cheeks turned pink. He already knew what Kevin did, and while he didn't think there was any harm in saying it, he could tell that she at least had her pride intact. "The college is going to reimburse me," she said firmly before handing forty dollars across the counter.

"Right," Bob said before paying for his own books. When they walked out into the fading sunlight, he looked down into her pretty face. "Will you let me drive you home? Not because I think I need to, but because I want to?"

She seemed at war with herself as she looked across the street and pressed her lips together. But her eyes fluttered closed and she said, "I would really appreciate that."

The interior of his truck was quiet the whole way as their books sat on the seat between them. Only the soft hum of the radio helped Bob hold his thoughts at bay. The ride wasn't too long, and when they were most of the way there, Anna finally spoke. 

"I'm going to deal with my shit. I promise."

Unsure exactly how he should respond, Bob simply said, "Okay."

When he pulled up in front of her building, he turned toward her, intending to ask if she wanted him to walk her up, but she was gathering her books together as she said, "I don't know how you feel about me now. I don't know if you could want me again. But I am going to deal with Kevin. I am going to fix my life. Because I want to move on. I need to." When he was so flustered that he didn't immediately respond, Anna said, "You know where to find me. Thanks for the ride."

He watched her run up the sidewalk before struggling to open the door with her arms full, and then she ducked inside when he finally figured out what he wanted to say. "I'll find you."

-------------------------------

If Anna even had a hope or a prayer at a chance with Bob ever again, she needed to work up the nerve. A real chance with him now that he knew all about her disastrous marriage was what she wanted, but she needed to sort Kevin out first. 

As far as she could tell, everything came down to two options: keep her freedom by giving Kevin ownership of her manuscript, or keep her self worth by fighting until she didn't have anything left to give up. And both of them sounded terrifying. The whole weekend passed where she tried so many times to call him. She took her phone out again and again, let her thumb hover over her husband's phone number, and then chickened out. His voice was like a distant memory, and she didn't want to bring it back to the forefront of her mind. He hadn't reached out one time since she up and left without telling him where she was going, and she was afraid to let him know where she was now.

The worst part was, he would know immediately why she was calling. He knew that he had the one thing she wanted. He cut off her access to the cloud files where she should have been able to piece her writing back together. It would have been time consuming, but she would have been all too happy to do it. She should have known better than to let him have so much of her life and so many of her resources in only his name, but there was a time when she trusted him. That was the part that made her so sick. She had trusted her husband, and now look where it got her.

A shiver went through her body as she woke up for work too early on Monday morning. She wanted Kevin's computer where everything was saved. She wanted access to the cloud. She didn't want a damn penny from him otherwise. She was aggressively brushing her teeth, wishing she had more to eat than a granola bar when she spit out her toothpaste and rinsed her mouth.

She hated him. She hated him so much, she was going to call him right now. Without a backward glance, she marched over to where her phone was charging and pulled the cable out. Before she could even think about exactly what she was going to say, she tapped on his stupid name.

Anna was breathing fast and deep, her heart pounding in her ears when she heard his voice for the first time in so many months.

"Anna?" he asked, her whole body cringing after just one word. His voice was scratchy as if she had woken him up, but it was 9:16 in New Jersey. He should be on his way to work if not there already.

"Kevin," she snapped, gripping her phone tighter. She was getting angrier by the second as she listened to him yawn while she looked around her tiny apartment.

His tone was condescending as he said, "Of course you'd call me at six in the fucking morning after I haven't hear a word from you except through a lawyer since July. What the hell do you want?"

She couldn't do this. She couldn't talk to him. While she felt strong a few minutes ago, her resolve was already crumbling. She wanted to tell him that he knew damn well what she wanted, but then she zeroed in on what he said. "What do you mean it's six in the morning? It's after nine."

His voice was suddenly loud and harsh. "I meant exactly what I said. I'm in California for a medical convention. Now get to the point of your call."

Her mouth felt like sandpaper as she carefully put her phone on speaker. She started searching for Neurological conventions in California while she told him, "I just want my manuscript. Please, Kevin. That's all I want, and then you can be rid of me."

The bite was gone from his voice, replaced by a lazy tone, and he spoke to her as if she were a very simple child. "It's not going to happen, Anna. I didn't cut off access to it for no reason. It's worth money. You can pay me for it, or you can kiss it goodbye. I might even publish it myself."

She was gasping for air as she scrolled through her search results, coming up with a conference in Carlsbad that was starting today. As the page loaded, she swallowed and told him, "I'll sue you if you do." But even she knew she was full of shit.

"What what money, Anna? I'm surprised you can still afford your lawyers. I don't even want to know what you're doing to make ends meet right now."

Then she saw it. She saw his name. He was a keynote speaker at the National Neurological Physicians Association conference. He was less than an hour away. She sank down to her knees in surprise and fear. Her mind was swirling with information and ideas, and she couldn't even comprehend what Kevin was saying now.

"What?" she gasped.

"I said come up with some money for me, or I'm not signing shit." Then he ended the call as her hands started shaking. She dropped her phone onto her bed. He was in Carlsbad. Maybe she could surprise him. Maybe she could talk him into it easier in person.

Anna had to run to the bathroom to be sick, but her mind was made up. Once she cleaned herself up again, she tearfully made the decision to cancel her morning classes via email, and then she started grabbing her purse and her essentials. She folded up the newest copy of the divorce paperwork her lawyer had emailed to her and tucked it away. Then she ran for the bus stop, nearly tripping several times as she read through the schedule of speakers who were at the conference this week on her phone. If she caught a bus within the next fifteen minutes, she might make it in time to see Kevin right before he gave his welcome speech.

---------------------------

We will meet Kevin in the next chapter. Now is an acceptable time to start sharpening your knives. Bob, please don't give up on Anna. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[bumblesimagines]

Forgotten Fairytale

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

I'm not afraid of this series not becoming as well loved as Green Thumb and I don't expect it to be popular. I've had the idea stuck in my head for a while and I'm getting it all out.

~

You looked over the artifacts the school had stored. You gave a small scoff, shaking your head as you noticed things that didn’t belong in a school.

“They call us thieves and hoarders yet half this shit was stolen off a corpse.” You muttered, stopping in front of a glass case protecting a sword.

“I wouldn’t suggest stealing that. It’ll be obvious.” You turned towards the redhead, sighing and tilting your head as she walked towards you.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” You looked back at the sword, eyes raking over it. 

“You know what this is?” You asked. Hope stood beside you, looking down at the sword. She shook her head, pursing her lips slightly.

“A man named Lord Jameson Wraith owned this sword. He was… a hunter of sorts and specialized in killing dragons. When he stabbed this through the chest of a dragon, the sword would light up and the dragon would burn from the inside. A gruesome, slow death. We were hunted like all others but it wasn’t just to protect humans. We were hunted for our meat, our teeth, and our scales. Humans declared war on us and when we fought back, we were erased from everyone's minds and deemed fairy tales where we continue to be killed by a so-called knight.” You explained, running your finger over the glass. 

“Some dragons were able to survive Malivore but as soon as they shifted… They were taken. They disappeared and left no trace.” You turned to look at Hope. The redhead stayed silent, a frown etched on her face.

“I’m sorry you lost your father. We’re working on finding Malivore and when we do, there’s a chance you’ll be able to see your father again.” Hope said softly, gaze still trained on the sword. 

“Where’s your mother? Alaric mentioned she was a vampire.”

“I was never able to meet her but.. I believe she’s dead.” You walked around the case, looking back up at Hope. You locked eyes with her, hearing her clear her throat.

“I’m sure she would’ve wanted to be in your life.” Hope offered a small smile, nails gently tapping against the case. 

“Are you being nice to me cause you need to find out more about me?” You asked, head tilting. Hope cocked a brow, eyes rolling as she turned away from you.

“Alaric really doesn’t trust me, does he?”

“He trusts you more than I do, that’s for sure. It’s just too much of a coincidence for you, a dragon, to show up when we’re dealing with monster after monster. If it weren’t for Alaric, I would’ve already done a spell on you.” Hope said as she walked around the room, features hard and serious. 

“A little witch spell wouldn’t work on me. You haven’t been trained to deal with dragons. If I was really one of those monsters, why didn’t I burn the building down and search for whatever it is that you have?” You asked curiously. Hope didn’t answer, thinking for a moment.

“Because you’d need to know if it was hidden.”

“Alaric asked if I felt a pull to this place. I suppose that means I would feel a pull towards the artifact, right?” You slowly walked towards her, a soft chuckle leaving you.

“You can kick and scream all you want, Red. I’m here to stay, whether you like it or not.” You reached out, twirling a strand of her red hair around your finger. Hope grabbed your wrist, pushing your hand away.

“You’re up to something and I’m gonna figure out what it is.” Hope sneered, eyes narrowed. She turned around, walking towards the doors. She almost bumped into a man on her way out, quietly apologizing before moving past him. The man entered the room, clasping his hands together. 

“I’m Dorian Williams, the liberian and occasional substitute teacher.” Dorian introduced himself, finding a table and taking a seat. He motioned for you to sit across from him. You did so, taking a seat and crossing your arms as you eyed him.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, (Y/N). I do have some suspicions that you might be after the artifact but.. You’re a kid. A kid who lost their father and wants answers. I’m not here to interrogate you about your intentions.” Dorian explained, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. 

“Do the other students know what I am?” 

“News spread like wildfire here, especially amongst the students so.. Yes, most likely. I can assure you that you’ll be treated like any other student-”

“So, Hope goes around telling every student she’s gonna figure out what they’re up to? No wonder she’s not popular.” Dorian let out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“I promise Hope isn’t always like that. The monster problem we’ve been having has everyone on edge. Do.. Do you know anything about Malivore?” Dorian asked, sitting up and leaning forward. 

“I thought you weren’t gonna interrogate me.” You tilted your head, brow cocked. Dorian hummed softly, nodding. 

“Alright, we can talk about something else. The neck is a dragon's soft spot, right?”

“Depends.” You answered, licking your lips as you reached up to touch your necklace. 

“If a dragon is older and stronger, a hit to the neck isn’t gonna hurt them much. It might piss them off and they could lose their ability to speak or even stop them from breathing fire cause it’ll hurt to do so. We can still kill someone by stepping on them or snacking on them. We were on the top of the fucking food chain and humans just couldn’t deal with that.” 

“I’m not your enemy, (Y/N). I want to believe I can trust you. You’re a child and like all children, you need guidance. I see a lot of rage built up inside you. I can tell from the way you interacted with Hope and from what I heard. Landon and Rafael aren’t your enemies. They’re new and they have a rough past. The first dragon they met wanted to burn them into a pile of ashes so.. I’d say they’re being pretty welcoming.” Dorian held a soft yet stern gaze. It was obvious that he sympathized with you but at the same time, he wasn’t gonna deal with an attitude.

“Tell me about your father. What was he like?” Dorian asked softly. Your gaze dropped to the table, fingers squeezing around the key. 

“I’d appreciate it if everyone could stop talking about him as if he’s dead.” You breathed out, standing up abruptly as your eyes began to sting from tears.

“I don’t need to be welcomed into this school. I’ve been to high school before, I’m not some little kid whose hand needs to be held.” You walked out of the room, heading back to your dorm room. You entered the dorm, shutting the door behind you. You sniffled softly, walking towards the window and opening it. You stepped out, taking a seat on the roof. You brought your knees up to your chest, feeling the wind gently hitting your face. 

“The key to food is passion, remember that (Y/N).”

“I thought it was seasoning.” You grinned as you watched your father cook. He hummed, nodding with a chuckle.

“It is but food from a chef who feels no passion for it will taste bland and bitter. It’s the same with any other job. If you hate it, it’ll show and you’ll only hurt yourself. That’s why I always tell you to look for things you’re interested in.” (F/N) said, handing you a wooden spoon so you could help with stirring the soup.

“What was mom passionate about?”

“Your mother was.. She was a hurricane.” He began, sighing deeply. “She destroyed everything in her path and took down anyone in her way. Not many people have fond memories of her but I saw the good in her. I didn’t love her romantically but I considered her a good friend of mine. I’ll always be grateful to her for giving me the best gift a man could ever have.” You smiled widely, chuckling softly and rolling your eyes. (F/N) smiled softly, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your temple.

“No treasure could ever compare to you.” 

You bit your bottom lip, letting out a shaky sigh. You weren't used to being alone. Your father had always been there to back you up, to support you, and to provide comfort when you needed it.

“Christ, pull yourself together. You come from dragons and a psycho vampire.” You mumbled, carefully going back inside. You picked up the phone, turning it on and waiting for it to power on completely. You responded to a text, watching a call pop up. You clicked the green button and held the phone up to your ear.

“I thought you said it was stupid to be in contact.” You took a seat on the bed.

“Yeah, well, I was expecting you to be back by now. You do know your fathers return lies in your hands, right? Only I can help you get him back but I’ll only do that if you give me what I need.”

“I have a plan-”

“Speed up that plan before I change my mind, (Y/N). While you were on your way to the school, I bumped into some of your new friends. They were a redhead and an older man. I believe the girl went by the name Jessica but I doubt it was her real name.” You let out a deep sigh, head tilting upwards. Hope Mikaelson was gonna be a real pain in the ass.

“Yeah, I’ve met the redhead.” You breathed out, dropping your head and pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“I just need you to relax, Ryan. I’ve got it handled but I really don’t need you fucking things up for me. You just keep up your end of the deal and I’ll keep up mine. You might be able to save my father but I can also keep you from helping yours.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a fact. Don’t bother me again unless it’s an emergency.” You pulled the phone away from your ear despite Ryan continuing to talk. You hung up and tossed the phone to the side, burying your face in your hands. 

“Am I paying for my mothers crimes?” You whispered. You flinched when you heard two knocks on the door, standing up and approaching it. You opened the door, staring at Josie.

“What do you want, baby face?” You asked with a frown, looking down at the ice cream tub in her hands. Josie’s brows furrowed at the nickname but she ignored it, choosing to raise the tub. 

“I.. I kind of eavesdropped on you and Dorian and saw you rush out. Ice cream always makes me feel better when I’m feeling down, so I brought you some.” Josie shrugged lightly. You blinked, opening your mouth but nothing came out. 

“If you don’t like ice cream then I could see if-”

“Thanks.” You cut her off, watching her relax and give a small smile. Josie nodded, perking up when you stepped aside so she could enter. Josie looked around the room, humming. 

“If you want, we could go shopping for some decorations tomorrow after school.” Josie said, moving one hand under her skirt as she sat down. You nodded, taking a seat beside her and subtly turning the phone off. Josie opened the lid of the tub, handing you a spoon and giving a small shy smile.

“Well, Welcome to Salvatore School. I’m pretty sure dad is still figuring out your class schedule.” 

“Dad?”

“Oh, uhm, the headmaster is my dad.” Josie shrugged, digging her spoon into the ice cream. Your brows raised, a small smile spreading across your face. 

“Really? You look nothing like him.. Which is a big compliment.” You grinned as Josie let out a soft giggle. Things were definitely starting to look up.

[buckybeardreams]

Unwanted

Chapters: 10/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him. 

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Words: 1,583

Tony went to Brock's to tell him about winning the case against Obie and Pierce, and ended up making another less expected announcement. One that Brock followed up with good news of his own.

"Wait? You're pregnant?"

"Yeah, but don't tell anyone. We're not telling people yet," Brock told him.

"I'm sorry, what? If I hadn't just told you I was pregnant, would you not have told me?"

"Probably not."

"What the fuck, Brock? I'm your best friend!"

"Yeah, but you know I was an only child, Tony. Not from a lack of trying on my parents' part either. They went through three miscarriages before they finally used in vitro to have me. If this baby doesn't make it, I don't want to deal with a whole bunch of people pitying me while I'm grieving."

Tony reached over and pulled him in for a hug.

"Okay, I get it now, but can I at least tell Steve?"

"Honestly, it's inevitable. I went to the hair salon yesterday and my hairdresser told me that Jessica, some girl that lives in her apartment that I don't even know, was having an affair with her current lover's ex-lover, not to mention she's married with three kids. I spilled my guts the moment Sam got home. Keeping things from mates is practically impossible."

Tony bit his lip.

"I haven't told Steve."

"Of course you didn't. You just found out, Tony. You literally haven't even left the room and your phone is sitting on the coffee table. How would you have told him?"

Tony shook his head.

"No, not that. I mean that I'm pregnant."

Brock blinked at him for a minute before narrowing his eyes.

"Why?" He asked suspiciously.

Tony fidgeted nervously.

"I don't know how he's gonna take it," Tony admitted.

Brock rolled his eyes.

"Good God, you're pathetic," Brock groaned in exasperation. "Seriously? That boy lives to please you. He's gonna be thrilled that you're gonna need massages and foot rubs for the next nine months. Not to mention, now he's gonna have two people to order him around. He's gonna be so excited to spoil your little mini-me, Tony."

Tony glared at him halfheartedly.

"Yeah, I know, but I'm still anxious about it and I'm not entirely sure why. I know it's ridiculous and I know Steve's gonna be thrilled."

Brock eyed him for a moment.

"Yes, we've established that," Brock said, watching Tony carefully. "What about you? Are you excited about it?"

Tony bit his lip and looked over at Brock guiltily.

"I don't know. I know that I should be. I know that babies are like miracles and all that, but I never thought I'd have one. I never thought I'd have an Alpha and now I do, and now this. It's just a lot and I'm not sure if I'm ready. I'm not sure if I want a child."

Brock nodded.

"If you need someone to go with you to take care of it, Tony-"

"No, no, I'm gonna keep it. I already considered that, but I think I'll regret it if I do."

Brock frowned.

"There's nothing wrong-"

"No, I know, Brock. It's not that. It's just- I think I'm scared, because this wasn't part of the plan. Steve wasn't part of the plan and the plan has completely changed. It's a lot, but I was scared about Steve, too, and he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Maybe this baby will be like that too."

Brock nodded.

"Okay, if it's really what you want then I'll support it and be happy for you. I'll support you no matter what choice you make, you know that right?"

"I do and I love you for that."

Brock rolled his eyes, but he smiled softly and pulled Tony in for a hug.

"Now let's talk nurseries," Brock said when he pulled back.

Tony grinned at him.

*****

"We're buying the bar," Tony said to the group. 

He had invited everyone over to Steve's place, since his place was bigger and neater and just overall better for hosting people. He chose to do this on a Sunday night, the only night that the bar wasn't open, so everyone could be there. Everyone was so excited about having won the case, but also scared about what that would mean for them. They had all figured when they first decided to take their boss to court that they would be left jobless regardless of the outcome. 

Clint raised his hand like he was still in elementary school and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Clint? Do you have something to say to the class?" Tony said sarcastically.

"Um... you're doing what?"

Tony sighed.

"We-" He said, gesturing between him and Steve, "Are buying the bar. This way we can all keep our jobs, have decent fucking pay checks, get the benefits we deserve, and just overall have a positive work environment. Sound good?"

There were murmurs and nods of agreement. Bucky stood up and grabbed the bottle of wine on the counter.

"Okay, well, I think we should all drink to that and to our new bosses."

"Yeah, um, we should clarify, that while I'm technically gonna be on the lease, it's really only because it looks good to have an Alpha on it," Steve said. "I'm an artist. Um, leadership? Yeah, that's not really my thing. Tony, though, he's gonna make a damn fine boss. So yeah, he's gonna run the place and work with you guys. I'm just gonna do the paperwork and manage schedules. That kind of behind the scenes stuff."

Tony giggled and kissed his cheek.

"Steve's gonna be a great co-owner and let me do whatever I want with the place, so I suggest you kiss up to me, if there's anything specific you want out of the renovations," Tony teased. "Steve will also be very busy raising our child and being a work-from-home dad while he paints and helps manage the bar.

Tony rested his hand on his flat belly and all the eyes in the room went wide and congratulations and cheers went off after a moment of shock. Steve was the most shocked though and it took him the longest to say something.

"Wait? Are you serious? Tony, if you're joking then tell me now before I get my hopes up."

"Nope, not joking," Tony told him with a grin, but a part of him was nervous that Steve would be unhappy about it.

"Oh my God. Oh my God! We're having a baby!" Steve practically shouted to the room in his excitement and scooped Tony up into his arms.

Tony laughed and wrapped his limbs around him, leaning down to kiss him.

"I can't believe it. This is amazing, baby! I'm gonna set up a nursery-"

"No, I'm setting up the nursery and Brock's gonna help me since he's also pregnant and we're gonna have matching nurseries."

"Right, right, then I'm gonna paint a mural on the walls."

"That's acceptable."

"Yeah and- Wait? Did you say Brock's pregnant?"

"Yeah, but you didn't hear it from me. They're not telling people yet," Tony told him with a wink.

Steve furrowed his brows.

"Who else would I have heard it from if they're not telling people?"

"I don't know. Sam?"

"But Sam would know that he didn't tell me," Steve pointed out.

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Not my problem."

Steve set Tony down when Bucky cleared his throat.

"Hate to ruin the moment, but I've got wine," Bucky said handing a glass to Steve before reaching for a glass on the counter, "and for you--"

"Oh, no, I can't--"

"It's grape juice, Tony," Bucky cut him off. "I wouldn't do anything to risk your baby."

Tony nodded his thanks and smiled at Bucky.

"Congratulations, by the way. On the mating and the pup."

The words seemed sincere enough, but Bucky's smile seemed off. Tony brushed it off though, letting everyone else come up and hug him and make him promise to invite them to the baby shower. It was a good day, everyone in high spirits, excited about the new baby and getting to keep their jobs. 

*****

That night at home Steve sat on the couch with Tony's feet in his lap, rubbing them.

"I'll do this for you everyday until the baby's born," Steve promised.

Tony smirked.

"Only until the baby's born," Tony teased, wiggling his toes.

Steve laughed.

"No, I'll do it every day until we die, because I love you more than anything in the world and I'd do anything for you, Tony, my beautiful Omega.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but smiled.

"Yeah, well, don't let the baby hear you say that. I'm pretty sure your world is going to expand the moment I pop this thing out."

"Yeah," Steve said dreamily. "I can't believe we're gonna be parents."

"Yeah, this kid's so fucked," Tony teased.

Steve grinned at him.

"We're gonna have the most spoiled, loved, and happiest baby ever. He's never gonna want for anything."

"He? What makes you think we're having a boy?"

"Or she," Steve amended. "I don't care either way. I just hope the baby's just like you."

"Well, jokes on you. This baby's gonna have blond hair and blue eyes."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"I didn't say the baby was gonna look like you, just be like you. You know, brilliant and stubborn."

Tony giggled and shook his head.

“Just focus on rubbing my feet, Alpha.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve teased.

[clairvoyantsam]

#JUSTINDESERVEDBETTER talk & 13 Reasons Why S4E10 thoughts

So ... I’ve already watched the series finale, did it right after episode 9 but it was hard for me to watch and write my thoughts simultaneously because I was ugly crying the whole freakin time. Thus, I’m posting this now. Haven’t cried this much in a LONG while. My heart is fucking broken. I’m gonna start by talking about my favorite character whom the show did SO. FUCKING. DIRTY. JUSTIN FOLEY DESERVED BETTER. (obviously, OBVIOUSLY, it was gonna be MY favorite character who gets screwed over and dies a horrible death, just my luck, why did I expect a happy ending, I don’t even know).

Justin was the most tragic figure of the show. Raised by a junkie mother who never gave a damn about him, sexually molested as a little kid by one of her many drug addict & violent boyfriends, he often went to school dirty and hungry because of the neglect. He never had a positive influence in his life. He only managed to do better with Bryce’s help (Bryce was a bastard but he did care about Justin in his own way, that’s for sure). 

After the events of S1 with Hannah’s suicide and the tapes and everything that happened with Jessica and Bryce, he left his abusive home and lived in the streets where he barely ever found food and what money he got from charity or the men who paid (and hurt him) to use his body, he gave to drugs. 

In S2, Clay and Toni, found him and saved his life, helped him get back on his feet and he tried his best to set things straight with everyone. He even saved Clay’s life who came so close to killing Bryce and even worse himself. He didn’t hesistate to face the legal consequences if it meant helping the girl he loved. And Clay eventually became his brother as his parents decided to adopt him. 

In S3, he started going to school and doing well, got a job, tried to start his life over, this time in a safe environment with a real family and friends who supported him. He was doing exceptionally well, he looked much happier, he finally felt what it’s like to be loved by a mother and father and a brother and he got some sense of normalcy in his life. He was there for Clay when things got bad, believed in him and he had his back ALWAYS. (still emo about their scenes together where they told each other “I love you” & “I’d do ANYTHING for you”), Plus, he was one of Tyler’s biggest supporters stating Tyler deserved a second chance to be better.

Come S4 ... he’s fresh out of rehab, looking better than ever. His friends welcome him when he gets back but everything is different. EVERYTHING. And everyone has changed. THE ENTIRE SEASON, NOBODY, NOT A SINGLE PERSON gave a fuck about him except for the coach and to a point his adoptive parents. He had done so much progress, he wanted to make his new family proud so bad, he was clean, he was doing great at school, he even got accepted into college!!! And what did he get in return???? NOT ONE OF HIS FRIENDS HUNG OUT WITH HIM ONCE, NOT EVEN ONCE. Every time he tried to approach someone or help THEM deal with their problems, he was turned away and even insulted. They would tell him he shouldn’t be giving advice and that he would never change who he used to be. He confessed to the coach that he felt like nobody believed in him and frankly?? NOBODY SHOWED THEY DID!!!!!!!! Jessica brushed him off all the time because she was MAD he broke up with her so he could FOCUS ON HIS HEALTH!!!!!!!!!! WHAT??????!!!!!!!!! She kept parading everywhere with Diego when she knew this was hurting him deeply. Clay was so fucking MEAN to him and I didn’t understand WHY after their great bonding their previous two seasons. Sure, he had his own problems, but there was NO reason for this, absolutely none. He was jealous of the moments Justin shared with his parents and how he was doing well at school and sports and got accepted in college. He even told in his FACE that Matt and Lainie are his parents ALONE, not Justin’s when he knew Justin’s biggest need was to feel the love and warmth of a family. Justin wanted to go to a free college so that Clay could have the money go to the BEST one and so the Jensens didn’t have to spend any on him. And I’m 100% sure he never told them how sick he was until it was too late because he didn’t want to be a burden so he decided to die quietly and slowly without upsetting them. Clay had the NERVE to pin the positive drug test on Justin when Justin was fucking CLEAN and then went on to smoke POT at that party. It broke my heart in 1000000 pieces when Justin asked him why he hated him so much. Zack wasn’t better either, basically telling Justin that he’d be a junkie his entire life and he could never change. The others mostly didn’t give a flying fuck, focused on nobody else but themselves and stayed far away from him the entire season. His mom died of OD and he didn’t tell anyone but the Jensens and Jess and he had to deal with everything all on his own again. He only had the coach to listen and there was a limit to what help he could give. So, he finally broke. He stopped caring since nobody was giving him a chance, he started using again, he lost his job, he didn’t care about anything. Jess and Clay knew he was using again and did NOTHING to help except tell him “Hey, I thought you quit! I thought you were getting better!”. Wow, BIG HELP, ASSHOLES. They all left him alone on prom night, and Clay SAW how sick he looked but he preferred to go to prom rather than stay with his brother who needed him.

Justin, with what little strength he had left, got dressed and went to the prom towards its end, he looked so beautiful in his suit, like Prince Charming. He lived one last carefree moment with the girl he loved and then he collapsed. And THAT’S when everyone said “OH, NO! Let’s go see our sick friend!”. Well done, now he IS DYING, YOU IGNORANT IDIOTS. Now that he’s at death’s door, you want to be there for him but WHERE WERE YOU WHEN HE WAS SO DESPERATELY TRYING TO LIVE?????????? Yes, it was proven that he had HIV, probably from the time he lived on the streets and without the proper care it went on to become fully AIDS and he had numerous other issues with his health as a result of that and the drugs to the point that he could no longer breathe on his own. BUT. Had he shared his problems and told the Jensens how sick he was feeling for so long, his death could have been prevented. I know someone in real life who got HIV in his 30s and he’s now in his 60s and his life is perfectly fine. He has friends, he has family (didn’t get married), he travels, he does what he wants. Justin could have been saved if someone had NOTICED. Like HANNAH could have been saved if someone, ANYONE was paying attention. Needless to say, I fucking died during his scenes in the hospital, it was so hard to watch him waste away in that hospital bed. When they took the tube out so he could say his goodbyes to Clay, Jess and his adoptive parents ... I LEGIT haven’t cried so hard in SO long ... I still have a headache from all the crying. My poor CHILD, he was scared but he told them all how much he loved them and eventually died in his sleep, holding his brother’s, Clay’s hand. The episode was meaningless after that for me. I only watched to see how everyone’s stories would end, even though I didn’t care and knew that they’d get their happy (mostly) endings. The one character who TRULY deserved the best and happiest ending, got royally fucked and buried six feet under while everyone went about their lives like nothing had happened.

I really don’t have much to comment on the rest of the story. Clay did one final extreme act by walking in the police department, saying he had a gun. Not convinved he didn’t really want to die too after Justin but perhaps his psychologist was right and he was just trying to make people notice he was hurting. I’m happy for Toni for doing what’s best for him and deciding to accept the scholarship and go to college, same goes for Tyler, he deserved to be happy and I’m glad he ended up with Estella. Relieved that Jess and Diego tested negative for HIV but disappointed they were ready to get back together so soon after Justin. Winston decided to not use what he found out about Bryce’s death against Alex and the others and that made me respect him a little bit. (Winston and Ryan btw? hehe, I kinda saw it coming ever since I saw Ryan and Courtney at the graduation-did anyone also notice Bryce and Monty in the crowd too??lol). Liked the graduation and Hannah’s little cameo (although it was archived footage) but it left me with a sour taste because Justin wasn’t there among the rest, only as a ghost in Clay’s mind. Also that Heidi girl talking to Clay, uh, SO cheesy and unnecessary. Clay reading Justin’s college essay with Justin’s ghost in their bedroom and seeing how it was all about him and Justin calling him his brother ... IT DESTROYED ME. UTTERLY AND COMLETELY. WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME. WHY WOULD YOU KILL THE MOST BEAUTIFUL CHARACTER OF THE SHOW. THE MOST COMPLEX AND DAMAGED ONE. WHY COULDN’T HE HAVE A HAPPY ENDING LIKE THE REST OF THEM. IT’S FUCKING UNFAIR.

I’m glad the final scene was just Clay and Toni driving away, always enjoyed their friendship. Having no word exchange between them was pretty powerful because you only needed to read their expessions to feel the emotions.

All in all, a powerful season who dealt with so many important issues, well directed and full of action but disappointing for me where it mattered the most ... Right now, I don’t want to even touch another show for a long time, I need a break to recover from this, it was too much. I wish I didn’t get so attached to certain characters, but I do and it hurts me deeply when shit like that happens to them. Anyway ... Goodbye, show ... it was (mostly) good while this journey lasted ... I sure hope I see all these HUGELY talented actors and actresses in other projects in the future, especially Brandon Flynn (Justin), Dylan Minnette (Clay), Katherine Langford (Hannah) & Justin Prentice (Bryce). I also hope Brandon & Dylan get ALL the awards for their performances in S4. THEY DESERVE EVERYTHING. I’d love to hear other people’s thoughts on all this, it was such an intense experience.

[finding-the-daylight]

So, now that my finals are officially over, I am going to proceed to have a drink or two or three and rewatch Eclipse. Here’s (soberly) what I remembered from the film prior to starting this account (since starting this account, posts re:Eclipse have reminded me of things I’m not going to include in this introduction): 

1. Bella is basically playing tic-tac-toe with Edward and Jacob and her feelings for them. She can’t make up her mind. When I watched it the first time, my dad was in the living room half paying attention to it and said she was very selfish. 

2. Edward tries to control Bella, but it’s “out of genuine concern for her”.

3. Jacob tries to control Bella, but it’s “out of genuine concern for her”.

4. Both fight for her affection and even though she’s engaged to Edward, she won’t let go of Jacob.

5. When the newborn army shows up, Bella cuts her arm with a rock.

6. There’s awkward tension in the tent.

That’s literally all I remember of the movie while sober (aside from what I have relearned from posts about Eclipse on this blog). My drunken thoughts will be below the break:

Okay, so this dude I think his name is Riley is lowkey kinda dumb, no offense. Like he just stood there and screamed “WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?” This is how all horror movies end badly. You don’t talk back. You run or hide or esape.

THE MEADOW IS SO FUCKING PRETTY. IT’S THE PUREST THING WE HAVE IN THIS FANDOM OMG HE’S PLAYING WITH EHR HAIR AND I JUST WANT SOMEOEN TO PLAY WITH MY HAIR. DAMN BELLA, MY FINALS ARE OVER. SUCKS TO SUCK, DOESN’T IT?

I never noticed the CUllen cuff before, but now thanks to this blog it’s all I’m looking @ lmao. 

I FCKING LOVE CHARLIE TOO MUCH AND HE DESERVED BETTER THIS WHOLE TIME. HE IS SUCH A GOOD FATHER AND HE DESERVES THE BEST.

THERE’S A GLOWING RED LIGHT OUTSIDE MY WINDOW WTF I THINK IT’S THE REFLECTION OF A CAR LIGHT BUT I FUCKING SWEAR

NVM ITS GONE

WHAT THE FUCK EDWARD?? YOU MESSED WITH BELLA’S TRUCK SO SHE COULDN’T SEE HER FRIEND? FUCK. I WOULD’VE DUMPED YOU AND LEFT YOU IN THE WOODS BRO.

Edward sitting with Bella’s friends. We can’t help but stan. He’s still a bitch for the truck thing though. 

I love how Alice looks @ Edward and tells him the party will be fun because she knows nothing bad will happen. But then he reads her mind and looks conerned wtf is ognna happen?

Side note: I really like the lighting in this movie. Everyone has a healthly glow. They lokk happy.

The fucking Volturi always gotta ruin everything. Bitch ass hoes. Ol’ crusty asses acting like some outdated monarchy. Why don’t the vamprires start a democratic government?

Charlie really deserved better. Like I know they couldn’t tell him teh truth but they could’ve been slightly less untruthful prbabl.

I WANNA FIND SOMEONE WHERE MY MOM SAYS WE’RE LIKE MAGNETS WITH EACH OTHER. I WANT SOMEONE TO LOOK @ ME LIKE I’M THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE. DAMNIT EDWARD. DAMNIT STEPHENDW. 

Y’ALL ARE TELLING ME THE ENTIRE CULELN CLAM COMBINED COULDN’T TKAE OUT VICTORIA? THIS SHIT IS GETTING UNREALISTIC LMAO.

THE MUSIC THAT STARTS PLAYING WHEN JAKE TURNS AROUND IN THE PARKING LOT SENT ME LMAOOOOO. 

Leah is such a badass and I wnat to be best friends with ehr plase. 

ALSO FCK THIE IMPRINTING STORYLINE. 

SAM AND LEAH WERE HAPPY TOGETHER.

NO BELLA YOU DON’T FUCKING WANNA KNOW WHAT IMPRINTING IS. NONE OF US WANTD WTO KNWO. IT NEVER SHOULDVE BEEN WRITTEN.

Taylor and Kristen are such babies in this movie. They’re so young and precious. WHIH REMINDS ME WHY TF DID SPTHEJNFNWFNA MAKE THIS SEIRESO ABOUT CHIDLREN??!?! I STILL SAY IF THE CHARACTERS HAS BEWNNF MORE MATUEE AND IN LIKE THEIR MID OR LATE TWNETIEMS OR THIRTIS IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER. FIUCKUNG FIGHT ME.

INITING BELLA TO HEAR THE TRIBE’S HISTORIES? THE CULTURAL APPROPRIATION FUCK STEPHEN0AWFJQ. BITCHJ.

SETH IS SO PRECIOUS. AGAIN. THEY’RE ALL SUCH BABIES. THESE POOR CHILDREN.

this hwoel shite is sof ukcing offensie. bitch. listen. why tf did stpehwb fafb have to appropriate cultues like this? BITCH>> you do realize if the legnds are actually like this they’rel ike that because it’s aout defeating yo white as sright? like your’e aware stpehebe ? 

omg bree is so scare d poor baby. literally why did stephenjdbawfbi do this? she just wnated to be ok not hurt anywaon.

exuce me vut CARLISLE IS HOT AS FUCK BITCH

edward is saying some real romantic shit and i sill hate him for the turck thing but like he loves her so much btu he’s stil an asshoel in this smovie

I’M ABOUT TO HATE JACOB I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES I’VE SEEN THE GIFS HOE WE GONNA GIGHT. BITCH SHE JUST TOLD YOU SHE DOESN’T LIKE YOU DON’T PUSH HER LIKE THIS. DUMBAS S HOE BITCH. YOU’RE GONNA FIGHT FOR HER? I’M GONNA FUCKIN FIGHT YOU BTCH. I WISH SHE WAS ALREAYD A VAMPIRE SO RTHAT PUNCH WOULDA HURT BITCH YOU DESERVED IT.

THESE FUCKWITS ARE FIGHTING OVER HER AND NOT LISTNEING TO HER THEY ARE BOTCH CANCELLED. BELLA NEEDS TO LEAVE BOTH THESE HOES AND GET A NEW MAN WHO ACTUALLY KNOWS HOW TO LISTNE. BITCHES.

I love Emmett so much. BELLA SHOULD FINA A MAN LIKE HIM. IT’S WHAT SHE DESERVES.

ROSALIE IS ABOUT TO POP TF OFF. SHE IS A QUEEN AND I LVOE AND SUPPORT HER. the saddest thing about this is that she thought her life was perfect and then some fucking asshoes ruiend it. she was so happy. wtf im gonna cry. fuck. i hate sptehej n so much. these gross ass hoes i’m gonna cik all theyre assses. this is so gross i’m so angry literaluy setthing beithc. BUT THEN SHE GETS HER REVENGE AND IT’S BEAUTIFUL. FUCK THOSE BASTARS. but she;s so sad it breaks my heart. she wants to be human so bad. this scene is so sad and it’s theonly good scene in twilight and nikki reed deserves an ocsa like if you agree.

jane and alec more childrne who should’ve been able to be children fck the volturie

why the hel is jessica the fucking valedinact ion? it should’ve been bella they made her seem so damn smart but now she’s not theo ne? i don’ beliee it. but anna kendrick is a gift and now i wanna watch ptiche perfect. CHARLIE is so pure he deserved better and i’m gona kep saying it.

i love those fucking rose colored lamps hanging at the cullens house int he window at hte party scene can anyone link them to me i need? 

why the hell is the wolfpack athe cullesn hosue? this doesnt make sense and it doesn’t seem real am i too drunk and imabginf this?

jno wait it’s real. jake’s appolgoizng.

how fucking conventinet the woflpakc is there hwen alice realizes there abotu to be attacked. this aint realistc. bitc.

why are these kids being forces to act like audls? “I wans;t asking for permission” hoe you’re like 16 go home and go tib ed and odnt go to war.

these woflies gonan kick yo ass edward get tf out

i’m laughign nrow but nothigng funy is happening lmaoooo

fck carlisle is really hot as fuck his jawline kills me

i hate jasper’s hair here i’m sorry i know we all lovehim bt heis hair is a dam nmess

belal is so fuckign negative all the time no one is gonan get killed exceptsvictoris

THE COWBOOIIIII WHY DOES HE LOOKS LIKE OWNE WILSON IN THIS DAMN LIGHTIN? ALICE AND JASPER LOVE EACH TOHER SO MUCH MY APLOGIZKE MAAM FCK IT UP.

why thfe fuck is hake comparing his situaton with leah and sam and emily? We are nto the same hoe wae are not the same. bella is choosing edward sit yo ass down. but i still thin kyall are both problemastic as fuck in thos movie and hse deserves better.

CHARLIES DESEVRS  BTETER THEY KEEP LYIGN EVEN WHEN THEY DUCKGN DONT NEED TO

reblog if you thought edward and bella wre gona fuc, when she went over to his house in eclipse when yo ufirst read the book or saw the movue

he really oes love her a lot though fkcn i’m so alone 

 he looks si sad wgen he mentind ices tea on the porch poor edward

EVERY DANM MOMENR OF FOREVER BITCG I WANT  LOVE LIK THST 

LITERALLY THIS IS THE SUTPEIDEST PLOT EVER. A WHOLE FUCKIN ARMY TOO ATTACK ONE IGRL? BITCH. THIS AINT EVEM A THING. 

im gettign ral tired yall dik if i waill mke it to the end of this movie but i will tru

i hate the enrgey from jae and efard in this tent. ya’ll are both dumb hoes and she could do better than either ofy ou. 

WRHAT THE FUCK FASTER IF YOUR TOOK YORU CLOTHS OFF BITCH WHAT THE FUCK NOW I AM GONNA FUCKIN PUNCH YOU IB HOEP BELLA OUBCHES YOU WHEN SHES A VMAPRIE STUPID HOE 16 YEAR OLD SHOULD BE AT HOME IN BED INSTEAD OF IN A TENT TRYING TO FIGH A FCUKCN WAR

edward is such an emo boi in the tent and he thinsk she doesn;t lve him any more. yo ua stipiud hoe edearf but she still loves you anwyab ithc.

wheb edward said i’m not gonna force her into naythign ever agin i realized he was hte better man good for you eddie you fickun manned up you win

MY REASON FOR ESXITNST HOE I JST WNAT TO BE LOVED

now edwards bene a fuckboi again trying to hurt jake b ymaking sure he knew they were getting maried edward what the fuck iw was just starting to be on your side agian and you let me down like this

jacob is beign an emo boi now jake go be a child @ home and stop this nonsense you’re not a man go be a chid and take a nap and eat some grilled cheese youkk feel better

now she told him she wants to kiss him wtf bella don’t kead this bitch on he’s already in pain let hom gp home and eat a grilled cheese

mow bella’ supsetti spaghetti because edwards know she kissed jake

this shit is so unenecasialr dramtic wht the fuck yall  like a whole army ofver one girl and then its like all everyboyd trying kill everybody this is bulshittheyre all children who should eb at home eating grileld chesses not at war

victoria is a real bitch lying to this boy telling hin she lvoes him hoe bitch

og shit efward ifs pissed now he’s tauntign ab ithc

i acutaly kinda fel bad for riley he wnet through so mcuh and was manipulated i wish the cullens could have adopted him and bree

oshit is the volutire 

SAM DONT FUCKUGN TALK TO LEAH LIKE THAT EVER AGIAN YOU HOE

CARLISE AND I REPEAT AGAIB IS HOT AS FUCK FUCK CARLISRL

I LITERALLY AHTE THE VOLTURIE FOR KILLIGN VREE THEY WILL NEVER BE FORGIVEN

JASPER KNOWS WHATS GOOD HE DOESN’T TURST THESE HOES

I’M SO PISEED THAT THE CULLENS NEVER FUCKING IFHT THE VOLTURIE LIKE CARLISLES IS SMART AS FUCK AND EHS TILL WONT START A DEMOCRAY LIKE YALL KNOW ROSLAIE WOULDVE FOGUHT FOR THAT SHIT TOO

 I LVOE YOUDADY CARLISLE

THIS 16 YEAR OLD LYING UP HERE BECAUSE OF TE DUMBASS WAR I TOLD YALL TO GO GOEN AND EA A GRILELD CHEDWE

poor jakie he knows hed better good for her but she reallys loves eward jake deserved better than what he got reblog is youf agree he jst said he’s even love her after she’s a vamprie bruh go eat a grilled chease and love yourself

WERE BACK IN THE FUCKING MEADOW ITS LIT AND ITS LOVELY I WANNA FALL IN LOVE IN A MEADOW WITH A HANDAOME MYSTERIOUS MAN WHO LOVES ME UNCODNITONATLY

KIRSTNE STEQARD IS THE WBEST AND SHE DESERVED AN OSCAR FOR THIS MOVIE HER AND NIKKI REED AND NODBOYD ELSE

fianlly this bitch is gonna beh onest with chalrie took you long enough

that was an anticlamtnc ending but i love love

[i-went-to-a-cuddle-party-once]

Relief

Summary: teenage Malcolm slips into the habit of self-harm for relief and control. Warnings: Self-harm, self-hatred, suicidal ideation, negative self-talk, anxiety, panic attacks.

It was the deep breath that comes after a dive. A sense of freedom and control at the edge of a box cutter. He pressed it against his skin softly, lovingly. A sigh of relief.

He had waited all day for this moment. Alone in his room. Alone in his mind. For a few moments, he felt peace. Silence. No ruminating thoughts. No self-loathing. No joy. No fear. Just sharp pain and bliss.

It hadn't started with cutting. He had experimented with many forms of punishment. Denying himself food, sleep, medication. Hitting. Whipping. Strangling. It was never enough. Cutting was off limits though, too close to what his father did. Until it wasn’t. He had tried everything else he could think of.

He spent two weeks planning it out the first time. He stood in the bathroom joined to his bedroom. A paring knife from the kitchen. Gauze and tape. Disinfectant. He was careful about the spot he’d chosen. His upper thigh. He pressed the knife against his pale skin carefully applying the lightest pressure. It was easier than expected. The sting caught his breath before turning into a sigh. He squeezed the wound watching droplets of blood form.

For a while, he only did it to his upper thighs but a voice came to his mind, what about your stomach, no one will notice and think about how much more sensitive it is. An even shorter time after that the voice returned, your shoulders, no one looks there. No one questioned him wearing long sleeves in the middle of a humid, sweltering summer. Just another quirk of his personality. And if they did notice they didn’t comment, not wanting to say something to set off the boy's anxieties.

It was an addiction and like all addicts he got sloppy. A little too close to the edge of his sleeves. A little too deep. A little too long. Gil had invited him over for dinner. He was in a good mood, light and happy, having just added a few more wounds to his growing collection. He’s not sure what gave it away but Gil grabbed him firmly and pulled up his sleeve revealing his doings. It was marked in his mind as one of the worst days of his life. Which was saying a lot all things considered.

The man said nothing. Just holding Malcolm’s wrist tight while the all too skinny for his age boy tried to squirm away.

“What the Hell Gil, let go,” he, shook trying to push his hands off. He looked at his friend’s face. It was contorted to a look of pain, tears filling his eyes. He let go.

“I’m sorry Malcolm,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry. How long-”

Malcolm stormed out, slamming the door behind him. If there was one thing he hated the most it was pitty. He didn’t want it, didn’t need it. He loathed the look in his mother’s eyes. In Ainsley's. In his therapist. He hated them for it. Hated his weakness reflected in their eyes.

He was furious. Filled with an anger he couldn't rationally explain. How dare he reveal his secret to the world. Even if the world had only consisted of a kettle on the stove. He wasn't paying attention to where he was walking, didn't care. He walked until his feet hurt, till his lungs burned from the cold air. He had left without grabbing his coat and now deeply regretting it.

The night surrounded him. His mother would be furious if she knew he was out by himself. Furious when Gil inevitably told her what he'd learned. He knew that logically he should be worried about wandering the city at this hour but all he could think was, what's the worst that could happen? Someone kills me?

I deserve it, the voice continued. I'm a burden. A disgrace. Worthless. Useless. Weak. No one would miss me. Mother would mourn. She might even start a charity in my name, he laughed. Ainsley would finally get the attention she deserved. Finally, be free of my reputation. Gil and Jackie could finally enjoy their time alone. I wouldn't take up all their nights and weekends. My father would be furious they let it happen. And I wouldn't have to deal with this. Any of this. Ever again. Nothing. Empty. Quiet. Peace.

There's no peace in death, another voice in his mind whispered. Only nothingness.

He didn't notice himself sitting down. Didn't notice that the words he thought were tumbling from his lips on repeat. Didn't notice Gil's arms wrap around him and pull him to his chest like he weighed nothing.

…

Minutes after he left Gil realized his mistakes. Touching Malcolm without his consent had always set the boy off. And concerning such a personal matter was just stupid. He had let his worry and anger control his actions but it was still no excuse. He knew better. He had to be better.

As soon as his thoughts had come back to the moment he put a call out for any police in the area to keep an eye out for Malcolm. He knew he should call Jessica but he couldn't, instead sending her a nondescript text and the promise that he would bring him home later and explain everything.

It was nearly five hours before he received the call. When he pulled over and saw the boy curled into himself on the sidewalk his heart ached. No matter how hard he tried he never seemed to do the right thing, say the right thing. He wondered if Malcolm would be better off without him. He had wedged his way into his life, his family. How healthy was it to be this close to the man that arrested his father? Now wasn't the time to question these things though. He picked Malcolm up, wrapped him in an old quilt, and drove him home.

A/N: This one is very personal. I've struggled with self-harming since I was a child. The last time I cut was in April of 2013. I still struggle with other forms both intentionally and not. Lots of therapy, being more open and honest with myself and others, regularly taking medication, and surrounding myself with a good support system were the only things that saved me from myself. If you are struggling, suffering, or feeling alone please know that you loved. You are worthy of a good, happy, fulfilling life and the voice in your head that says you're not is a fucking liar.

[gizkasparadise]

Kdrama review: Vagabond

Master Kdrama rec list.

Series: vagabond Episodes: 16 (14 of 16 aired so far) Genres: Intrigue, action/adventure, SADNESS, drama/tragedy, J U S T I C E, thriller, romance Spoilers in the Review: first episode/basic premise If You Like, You’ll Like: the guardians/lookout!, Taking The Law Into Your Own Hands, four brothers, gu family book, just between lovers/rain or shine, I Lived Bitch, lee seung gi playing yet another wannabe action star that has to run all the time, lee seung gi playing yet another character in love with suzy bae, wholesome high fives, having to run really fast as the bullets go put put ting ting ting behind you, PARKOUR 

Rank: 10/10

“we didn’t die! we didn’t fucking die! high five!!”

-

ok let’s get this out of the way:

do i understand any of the political plot? i do not. is it easy for me to keep track of various Machinations? no i have no idea what’s happening 9 times out of 10. could most of this be solved by singular phone calls? probably. why the hell is a vagabond?  ��\_(ツ)_/¯

[puts on aviators]

i don’t give a fuck about all that

premise [SPOILERS for first ep, cw child death]

cha dal gun is a stuntman and martial artist who is raising his nephew after the death of his brother. he has such a signature look in the flashbacks:

a look

he’s not the best in terms of success, but he loves his nephew a lot and does what he can. he teaches his nephew martial arts, and his nephew makes a Super Elite Child Tae Kwon Do Team that pays for him to attend a Diplomatic Tae Kwon Do match in morocco. idk why diplomacy is resting on children’s small fighting shoulders, but okay. 

dal gun’s entire life spirals when his nephew’s plane to morocco unexpectedly crashes, killing everyone on board. Evidence emerges that makes him suspect a cover up, which eventually involves...

go hae ri, a rookie intelligence agent who is not so great at her job. the majority of her coworkers dont expect much from her because they’re awful. hae ri wants to continue her steady government position without obstacles but that doesn’t work when dal gun decides to

P U N C H

his way to 

J U S T I C E

-

main characters

cha dal gun

former stuntman trying to get by turned vigilante roof hopper. he will make you cry. following the death of his nephew, he’ll do Whatever It Takes to uncover the political conspiracy and government cover up surrounding the mysterious plane crash. for justice.

lowkey trying out to be an assassin’s creed player character. does push-ups upside down and shirtless because sbs producers know what they’re about. doesn’t smile much but when he does the lighting on the show increases 17%. he lived, bitch

go hae ri

rookie agent who doesn’t do combat missions. she spends a couple eps Avoiding the Call, but once she gets going she cannot and will not be stopped. brains to dal gun’s brawn. the daughter of a heroic marine who died saving lives, she wants to do the right thing for justice

her hair is so excellent because it’s full of secrets. over sharer. does not know when to recognize that someone has a crush on her. doesn’t think enough of herself. very concerned about people’s dal gun well-being. has the code name elsa? like from frozen?? why???

ki tae woong

a senior at the national intelligence service and you know he’s By the Book because he’s like 1 of 2 people that habitually wears a tie to work. but he also has the Is He A Second Lead? Hair Part so that lets you know he’s actually soft at heart. capable and super cool under pressure, he also, you guessed it, has a sense for justice. 

the blue to dal gun’s red. will do what’s right and if you don’t do what’s right he will scold you for it or be Grimly Disapproving. has the vibe of an intelligence agent who actually submits the paperwork on time in triplicate

some support characters selected by how much they are my favorites

park gwang deok

this man will make you cry. because justice.

gong hwa sook

hae ri’s bff who also works at the national intelligence service. im sure they said what her actual job is at one point, but she’s basically the one who squints at surveillance footage and Finds The Hidden Clue after Enlarging The Image. ride or die, will try to protect you from shame (for justice)

lee jessica / jessica lee

im sure you immediately know who this woman is based on the all-white pantsuit. jessica works for a Company of War that is seeking to get a government contract for providing fighter planes. mmwhatchasay. screams into cellphones a lot while never putting her arms into the sleeves of her designer jackets. has no sense for justice!!

lily

an assassin/mercenary who (gasp) also has a low (low) key sense of justice. is hired by jessica for Reasons. i love her so much. i need more lily in the remaining episodes.

Drawbacks.

does it always make sense? to be honest i could not even tell you a yes or no here

there are many interchangeable evil men in suits

people complain about suzy bae (hae ri)’s acting but honestly i enjoy it so w/e

Reasons to Watch.

THE GRIEVING FAMILY MEMBERS OF THE VICTIMS OF THE PLANE CRASH. one thing vagabond does really well is remember that this isn’t just dal gun’s loss. several family members have important roles in the activism for justice and lmao they make me cry. i cry so much at this show. it’s very human and reminds me of how trauma is addressed in just between lovers/rain or shine

action scenes!!!! it’s all off the fucking chain. like. the production value is so high for this show you can almost see SBS execs figuring out how many subway sandwich scenes need to go into the next drama they write

the mains!!! all three are so great and good and excellent. dal gun and hae ri have some awesome character development throughout -- hae ri especially

the romance between dal gun and hae ri is incredibly sweet and fluffy despite the intense situations they’re in

dal gun is Very Aware that hae ri is Attractive and does a lot of awkward throat clearing while hae ri is just like DID YOU EAT TODAY

Final Thoughts.

power moves! things that make me cry! slow motion action sequences for the aesthetic! battle/power couple! and of course

J U S T I C E

[meet-me-in-the-kitchen]

Imagine: Two Ghosts (PART ONE)

TRIGGER WARNING: ...there’s a sLiGHtly steamy scene. angst**

The one where he’s with Kendall, while she’s standing alone in a crowded room.

“Y/N, for the thousandth time, I can’t come with you, but I promise I’ll get there soon after,” Harry states, continuing to fold his clothes and place them inside the little suitcase and travel pack laying open on their bed. Frowning at his lack of sorrow or any remorseful emotion, Y/N moves closer to him and nudges him reproachfully.

“Harry, this is really important to me. You know that,” she says softly, unable to express how much she wanted him to be there.

“It’s just a party,” he mutters, raising his hands in defense when Y/N’s face fell. It was the Halloween party held in an Art Exhibit where all of Y/N’s friends and her boss from work would be there to support her. The art exhibit held at a museum an hour and a half away was famous for its modern art, depicting the past from the perspective of the current year. Y/N had created a series of pieces painstakingly over the pay two years.

She had calculated every shade and stroke she would brush onto the canvas. Now was her moment to get her art some exposure from some very famous judges coming down to the museum for both the event hosted there, and an art contest awarding the artist with the best technique and most creativity instilled within their collective pieces. Y/N could feel something good coming out of the blood, sweat and tears she had spent on the project. At least, she hoped that was the case.

She wanted Harry to be there in particular, because he was her muse and motivation. The entire piece depicted Harry, from the softness of his curly hair to the hues of forest green in his eyes and the craters indenting his cheeks. The faint amusement and shyness in the purse of his cherry lips as he smirked, and the innocent furrow of his eyebrows. It was him. It was her love on a series of canvases, all set to unravel the love of her life.

Harry didn’t know.

He didn’t know that there was a contest, and she’d entered it with her masterpiece being him. He didn’t know she’d spent months sketching and painting what she remembered from when he’d laugh with his dimples showing and his eyes alit like a child on Christmas Day. He didn’t know she’d spent months putting what she felt onto paper, restarting over and over if the slightest feeling was inaccurately expressed. He probably didn’t know how much she loved him. But that was okay, y/n had decided, because she wasn’t quite sure of the measure of that, either.

He didn’t know she had spent hours and days at a time painting in the art studio downtown where she kept her work, because she was painting him. He had assumed she was working on some other project and that the exhibition event was just a Halloween party. Nevertheless, Harry had been the one to text Y/N repeatedly when she had fallen asleep in the studio, paintbrush in hand as the moonlight swept over her cheeks and hair. He had been the one to coo and half carry her grumpty, half-awake self into the car, where she would fall asleep and wake in her warm, safe bed with him the next morning.

“Baby, you needa eat,” he’d scold Y/N half heartedly, his eyebrows dipping in concern as he lifted her up from where she’d nodded off, standing in front of a canvas and had nearly fallen and hit her head on the hardwood floor beneath them.

“Don’t look!” Y/N yelped, panic in her eyes as Harry merely rolled his eyes amusedly, and brought her closer to his chest when he had her up in his arms in bridal style.

“Only got my eyes on you, petal,” he murmurs, sponging kisses to her cheeks, and down her neck, making her giggle softly.

“Not here, you goose,” she stops him through laughs as he continues to assault her with kisses and lovebites- “there are paintbrushes everywhere, and there’s paint on the floor. Not on the floor, Harry!”

“‘M house and my girl. Can do it anywhere we’d like,” he says gruffly, smirking slightly as he lowers a happily shrieking Y/N onto the floor safely, her body spread underneath his. Silencing her giggles in one movement, he has his fingers pressed there, and she gasps quietly, her fingers fisting before her nails scratch down his back. Biting his shoulder, she tries to conceal her gasps and moans as he moves his fingers in tight circles over the flimsy fabric covering the swollen button of her heat.

“What d’yeh day, then,” he asks, voice smug and causing a confused, flustered y/n to stutter as he stops his movement, removing his fingers and lifting them towards him as if in inspection. “W-what?”

“Want it, then?” He hums, still smirking, but now rubbing his fingers into her hipbones comfortingly.

“Y-yeah,” she agrees breathily. And that’s all the confirmation he needs. Afterwards, he makes sure she has food in her and sleeps soundly.

Now, Y/N was half wishing that Harry had known something about the art exhibit. Even a little detail that would urge him to attend the exhibit sooner. All she’d said was that everyone from work would be dining there, and she might get a promotion (which was true, as y/n really might get one tonight). She had also mentioned the museum it would be held in was famous for its artwork, which was also true. The only part she hadn’t let slip was her involvement in the exhibit. Harry knee how much she loved art, and had probably assumed she just wanted to appreciate it visually, from a distance.

“Promise you’ll be there?” Y/N asks uncertainly, leaning back and crossing her arms tighter over her chest. Rolling his eyes, Harry nods. “Yes. For fuck’s sake, Y/N. I’ll be there.” Y/N was caught frowning at his choice of words, Harry’s expression softening slightly at the fiddle of her fingers. Rolling to her in his rolling, wheeled chair, he pulled her down to his lap with a startled squeak from her.

“I’ll be there, yeah?” He hums, wrapping his arms around her soft waist, pulling her up so her bum was comfortable in his lap. “You’ll see me with a sign with your name on it, lovie one of ‘em from the airport. I’ll be proper dressed for it, too. Maybe I’ll even wear a thong-“

Shoving him back slightly, Y/N let a giggle out as she placidly stayed on his thick thighs. Letting out a shrill, fake moan, Y/N rolls her eyes before truly beginning to smile again.

“Be right there,” he hums, pressing his lips to her forehead. “In the front row, center, button.”

“Okay,” she whispers. “Don’t forget to wear a costume though. It’s Halloween themed.”

* * *

Harry doesn’t show up.

It’s a minute past eleven, and the exhibit had started quite a while ago. There were people crowding around portraits filled with thin lines of self proclaimed modern art. There were scatters of university students, the elderly, and the occasional middle aged or teenage person; acting as sad salesmen instead of artists as they tried to attract people walking by.

Some people were drunk on the rich wine the sponsors had splurged on, grinding on the dance floor as if it were that of a club, instead of one with floors that looked like they belonged on palace walls. The room was dark, but there was a dim glow inviting passers going by to glance at the artwork. Vampires hidden in the darkness whisked away ballerinas, demons pulled angels close, and jocks in costume twirled alongside nerds.

Candy was everywhere, but so were ghosts and demons. Statues which burst into life the moment you walked past them.

“Your boobs look great!” Kristina from accounting yelled at Y/N, nearly toppling over from the alcohol she had consumed. Muttering a ‘thanks’ between her amused chortles, YsB found a little enjoyment in the Halloween themed night. A few polite and playful catcalls and whistles were directed to Y/N , from overly drunk people. She couldn’t help but feel a little smug for her costume.

She, herself, was dressed as Jessica Rabbit. Y/N had thrown a crimson wig on, and had gone all out for her costume. From the tantalizing, sexy red dress she had on, and the sleazy expression she’d spent minutes perfecting over the weeks to come. Hell, she’d even switched up her perfume and done her makeup painstakingly flawless. She wanted to look good for herself. Of course she did. What soles her confidence more than dressing up as a symbol of desire in cartoons? She looks good and she knows it. But she also wanted to look good for Harry. She wanted to see his jaw drop at the low dip of the front and back of her dress, the slit at the side. Her ginger locks.

Clearly, that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

Y/N was jealous. Not of the art. Of the people who had their loved ones right by them. The ones who cared enough to come. She knew it was irrational. At least slightly. There was still at least half an hour left before the exhibit ended with prizes and congrats to the winning artists. She still had time to show Harry. And, besides, her coworkers were dining and gawking at her art. They were clearly excited, even without the buzz of alcohol in their veins and the spark Halloween brought.

So, Y/N waited some more, keeping herself busy with the crowds, artists, and judges amazed by her artwork. She smiled politely and mumbled ‘thanks.’ If the muse for her masterpiece would’ve been present, she’d have been beaming. It didn’t feel special anymore. It felt pathetic she spent months painting someone who didn’t care enough to even drop by an exhibit for a few minutes.

“And the artist winning this competition with her masterful technique and emotionally attractive piece is... Y/N Y/L/N!”

The applause are deafening, serenading Y/N as her heart sinks with every congratulating statement. Her coworkers break into proud roars, and her boss ushers her to the stage, where everyone is waiting to get a glimpse of the artist who had stolen the prize with her technique.

Y/N’s heart breaks more as she joins her artwork up on the stage. Every bit of Harry is captured and waiting, instead of Harry himself. It makes her want to shred the canvases and scream. Her eyes trace over the applauding crowds of men and women in costume, searching for him. But he’s not there. She’d feel it if he was. That doesn’t stop her from wishing otherwise.

The female judge has a bright smile on her face, handing over a large trophy, certificate, and signature sheet allowing the museum to store the art for days to come. The idea of him being there forever causes Y/N’s heart to skip a beat. The judge begins talking, introducing Y/N and her artwork. Congratulating her. The claps and appraising words seem to swerve over her, or go inside her ears for a faint moment, before escaping once more. She feels nothing and everything. All at once.

“And now let’s let this talented young woman talk about her artwork for a moment. Our words cannot do it justice.”

The audience erupts into polite silence, watching her every move.

“Hey, everyone,” she started, feeling clueless and as if she was having an out of body experience while speaking. “First of all, I would like to thank all of the people here supporting me tonight. Friends and colleagues who took the time to attend something that means something to me, not because it matters to them, but because I matter to them.”

The words coming out of her own mouth only make her feel worse.

“I always criticize my work too hard. I’ll create something and use all of my energy, pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into the piece, and afterwards take one disgusted glance at the artwork and throw it into the trash. As they say, an artist’s worst critic is the artist, themself.”

Many members of the audience nod and groan with the relatable habit.

“Everything I create, no matter for how long, there’s always this sense.. this need to destroy it. I find every flaw in something flawless, simply because I created it, and so there has to be something wrong with it. I over analyze my analysis until the unmoving artwork is more lively than I am. I grow disgusted, tired, and I feel like something has restricted my creative process. I wonder what is wrong with me, and how I can still dare to call myself a lover of the arts- or an artist, at all.”

“But I could never grow disgusted with this piece,” she said softly. Tracing her fingers of the places the paint splattered brush had roughly skated over the canvas, the dips and rises of colour, the audience waited for her to finish.

“I could never grow disgusted of this canvas and the splatters of paint on it, because it represents him. The boy I love. And I know it’s so pathetic and it’s so overwhelming to spend months painting an emotion, such as love onto paper. I know it’s impossible to record how fast my heart beats when he smiles. How safe I feel when he’s around. How powerful I feel when both of us are together, in this relationship, as equals. How it can’t be possible to use colour to represent how I feel the pain he does when things don’t work out, or the worry I feel when he scrapes his finger while trying to cut an apple again, because he never learned how to properly. The feeling I get when he looks at me in a room full of people. It’s a sad excuse of trying to portray how happy I feel when I’m with him. When his green eyes widen, because he’s obsessively watching The Vow, and although he knows what’s going to happen, it never fails to make him cry. His hair after he’s just run his hands through it; his hands intertwined in mine, with rings he wears as a ridiculous replica of Mick Jagger.”

“I know,” she whispers into the microphone. “This piece of art can’t possibly accurately show my insecurities and my fallacies and how he’s enough to become what I’m not and I’m enough to become what he’s not. I know that I can’t ‘draw’ the half choice, half unconscious feeling to fall helplessly, incredibly in love with him; but I also can’t not try.”

Clearing her slightly clogged throat, and fighting back tears prickling in the corners of her downturned eyes hotly, Y/N finished the speech.

“The boy I’m in love with— his name is Harry Styles. He’s my muse. He’s the one who these paintings represent; and therefore they will never be disgusting, because no part of Harry Styles is anything less than perfect. This is my greatest piece yet and will probably be forever, and I am so grateful that I had the chance to share it with you. Thank you.”

The audience breaks into genuine applause, with people wiping their tears and smiling real smiles, and Y/N wants to bask in this moment, but she can’t ignore the dejection. The feeling that she’s so submerged, in because of Harry choosing not to show up. Because of him breaking his promise. Her portrait has lost its purpose, in a way. It has failed to even give him a glimpse of how she feels.

But he’s made it clear how he feels.

It’s not even that dramatic, now that Y/N thought it over as coworkers swarmed over her in heaves of congratulations. Harry didn’t ask her to do this for him, but she had. She’d spent months on a series of paintings that encompassed him and how she viewed him, and her feelings for him. He couldn’t even show up one night, after countless reminders.

Y/N tried not to let it affect her too much, but it really hurts when you’re the one who cares more than the other person. Relationships were supposed to be like ones that are symbiotic. With equal care and give and take. That didn’t seem to be the case anymore.

He’s probably not doing something fun, y/n tried consoling herself. Maybe he just forgot.

But it’s half hearted.

“Okay, so I didn’t want to do this so quickly,” Y/N’s boss began, her voice excited and beckoning all of her colleagues closer. “I just figured with the overflow of good news, I might just add.. Drumroll, please, Chad... Y/N’s been promoted!”

Fan-fucking-tastic.

It wasn’t that Y/N wasn’t elated. She was. She had been waiting for this promotion for so long, and had worked her ass off for the position. But he was supposed to be here to feel happy for her, too. He was supposed to be here, and he wasn’t. Unlike the times when shed bee at every exhausting concert to support him. Every recording. Every late night when he struggled to come up with lyrics. She’d been there. He wasn’t.

“Oh my God, thank you so much!”

She tries to come across as how she would’ve responded, if she hadn’t been feeling the strange feeling of betrayal and abandonment. After a few minutes of celebrating within their circle, toasting to Y/N’s promotion and success, Chad asks the question:

“So, where’s Harry?”

Where’s Harry?

“He has the stomach virus. It’s really bad. I wanted to stay home, but he insisted on my coming here.”

Lie. She didn’t know where he was. (Truth)

Nodding, Chad walked to Melissa, the receptionist. Pulling out her phone and knowing it would already be a mistake, Y/N exited out of the many frantic texts she’d left Harry, and instead clicked on the ‘Google’ application. Harry Styles. She tapped the search button.

The headlines were differentiating and great in number, but they all had the same gist and idea:

Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner Partying in London

Hendall Back Together?

Y/L/N Replaced With Jenner

With her heart racing and fingers shaking, Y/N breathed raspily and tapped on one of the news articles. Her heart dropped as it was met with a clearly stoned, drunk Harry staring at and laughing with a jubilant Kendall Jenner. She had herself all over him, and he was doing nothing to stop her. Feeling a sob nearly breaking from her throat when she realizes it’s not photoshopped, Y/N makes an excuse and walks out of the art museum, into the dark night with the star speckled sky her witness as she wraps her arms around herself in her dress. As she dials his number frantically, again and again, even when it goes to voicemail. Fuck her exhibit. She wasn’t letting him make any stupid decisions or risk his health by driving home intoxicated.

On the third try, he picks up.

“What?” Harry asks, his voice slow and slurred slightly.

“H-Harry!” Y/N cries. “Where are you? If you’re drunk I can come get you. I don’t want you driving like thi-“

“Fuck off,” he snaps, voice cold and unfamiliar. y/n feels herself shifting into an even darker place in her mind. Harry knew how her previous boyfriends had treated her. How they had yelled and shifted emotions from content to cold so frequently, she couldn’t trust them. Now, he reminded her of them.

Shivering slightly, Y/N begins to speak again when he starts to laugh.

“Yeah, Kendall, take your top off!”

I’m the background, there are hundreds of voices chanting the same thing. Just as the same voices begin cheering, he hangs up.

Breaking into sobs, Y/N types one more message and sends it, hoping he’ll remain faithful and Harry.

I’m coming in five minutes. Please don’t do anything stupid.

In a few seconds, the response arrives:

Fuck off dgnt wnt u hre

She goes anyway, telling her coworkers her ride is here, and she won’t be driving back with them. They’re slightly disappointed, but very understanding, beginning to leave themselves. With her trophy in hand and other letters and such informing her of her promotion and place of her artwork at the exhibit, Y/N calls a taxi and leaves to where Google says Harry is. The internet is a scary thing, but there are far more scarier things.

“Here, please,” Y/N muttered, requesting the cab driver to remain at the grounds for a few more minutes.

The security guards recognized her as Harry’s girlfriend and let her in, immediately. When Y/N enters the party, her brain feels like someone is hammering it. The stench of alcohol makes gag, weed and hard drugs beside stoned celebrities and rich people. The women are topless, and nearly all of the men are stripped to their boxers. Some people are in skimp Halloween costumes. Everyone was grinding or getting high.

This was what Harry would choose over Y/N.

Keeping her head down and trying not to punch every person who made comments about her body inappropriately, Y/N skimmed the area for her boyfriend. Finally, there he was. Chugging down drink after drink with a near naked Kendall Jenner by his side. Walking to him slowly and shakily, Y/N tapped his shoulder, trying not to cry right there. When he turns around, his happy expression turns sour and cold. “Let’s go home, Harry,” she pleads, touching his arm. He shakes her off, unconsciously rough. “No.”

Trying to pull him out again, Harry now shoves her off, his eyes narrowed and fists clenching. His nostrils flare out in anger. “I said fucking no!” He booms. The room grows silent for a moment and Y/N feels hot years skate down her cheeks. “You fuckin’ go home. Stay at your place. I don’t want you anymore. You’re boring as fuck,” he muttered icily. Turning back to the people behind him, he grins again, throwing back another drink as he pushes Y/N towards the gate, security intrusively escorting her of the building.

“Sorry about that, guys. My ex girlfriend’s clingy as fuck. Now, let’s get this shit started.”

Begging the guards to take her back, because she knows how Harry gets nauseous, sick, and his asthma acts up when he takes too many drugs, and although he’s not being himself at all, she just wants him to be okay. This isn’t him. This isn’t her Harry. But, as much as she repeats this to the guards, they don’t care. They push her out and don’t look back.

Sobbing, she looks for her cab driver, and gets into the car. He looks slightly sympathetic, but when she admits she only has twenty pounds, his face also morphs into an icy one. “I can’t drive you if you do not have the money,” he replies robotically, receiving the money and doing nothing to calm a now frantic Y/N, who had used the minimal money she’d brought with her to the event tonight. It’s funny how people only help you when you are of use to them.

And so, she walks the streets alone, lost and scared with sobs racking throughout her body in heavy, loud releases. Her head aches and so does the rest of her body. Everytime she passes a man or hears a cat call, she sinks into herself. Everytime a car whizzes by, she moves away from it. Her phone has died from all the times she’s called and attempted to interact with Harry. She prays she’ll be okay. She prays he’ll stay.

Please don’t leave me.

The one where she walks the streets alone at night, and he doesn’t want her anymore.

i had an out of body experience trying to get this done fast enough so please read this!

MASTERLIST|Requests are open!

There will be a part two if requested.

[melindaofshield]

i saved your best agent || kilgrave, melinda, and phil

summary: kilgrave’s first day training at SHIELD takes a turn for the worst. immediately following this thread.

trigger warnings:  injury, violence, murder/murder implications, self-harm, trauma, mind control, kilgrave stuff

featuring: @coulsonsshield @kevinthompsons

MELINDA: Melinda paused for a beat after her fist had made contact with Kilgrave, watching as he staggered backward from the blow. Normally she would have stopped herself or at least held back, but each phrase out of his mouth was another command and he wasn’t focused on his training. He was focused on control. And Kilgrave needed to understand how to react when things were out of his control. But she could see it in his face, the rage behind his dark eyes as he stared at her like she had wronged him. He straightened up finally. But that look was still on his face. He didn’t know how to react -- he had never been taught how to handle situations without simply barking orders.

Kilgrave was looking at her, but then his eyes moved away. Looking just over her shoulder. At the mirror?

And there it was.

An order was thrown out without a second thought -- or maybe he had thought about it. It was specific and crass. Break that mirror. And cut your heart out with a shard. Now. Melinda looked him in the eyes, tried to pause, but the urgency in the word now forced her to turn around. She took a few steps towards the mirror and stared at her reflection briefly, her eyes moving towards the image of Kilgrave standing behind her in the distance. But he wasn’t stopping her. And why would he? This was what he wanted right? Control. His pride had been wounded and he was reacting like a child. But Melinda was paying the price.

She lifted her hand and balled her fist before hitting the mirror as hard as she could and the glass fragmented onto both sides of the wall. A two-way mirror. Melinda’s attention was on the glass that sprayed out in her direction -- but she glanced on the other side, to see who it was that had been tasked with monitoring the situation.

Phil.

Melinda tore her eyes away from him, blood already trickling down her arm from the shards of glass -- but that’s not what Kilgrave wanted. She bent over and turned away from Phil so that he couldn’t see what she was about to do. Melinda gritted her teeth as she looked at Kilgrave. Eye contact as she put the broken piece of glass in towards the center of her chest and made the first jagged cut across the center of her chest. Tearing her shirt and cutting into her chest. But she didn’t scream. The pain was ripping through her but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction if hearing her pain. She pulled the glass away from her body, the blood already staining her clothes and dripping from the shard -- and she put it back to her chest, in the same spot she had started. Ready to make the second cut.

PHIL: When training Kilgrave had been suggested while writing up his contract, Coulson had vehemently disagreed at first. The man was already dangerous enough – teaching him to fight would only make it worse, even though he suspected that Kilgrave wouldn’t use those fighting skills even if he was taught them. He would always be lazy, and learning how to punch would make no difference.

However – after much consideration, he’d agreed to the idea of Kilgrave learning how to fight. Then came the time to determine who would train him, and the first suggestion of Melinda May already had Phil on edge. First Jessica, then Daisy – there had to be one person in Coulson’s life who wasn’t terrorized by this monster. He didn’t want May to become Kilgrave’s latest fascination, or for her to have to deal with him. She’d only just returned, and things were good – or as good as they could be – but he knew that May might be the right person for the job as much as he hated it. Begrudgingly, he’d supported the idea and agreed to it, but on the caveat that he be there to monitor the situation.

And it was good he did, given what transpired when the two met.

Coulson had feared Kilgrave taking a liking to May, seeing so much of Daisy and Jessica in her, but it was far worse than he could have imagined. Kilgrave immediately ordered May to be happy there, a thought that made his jaw clench at the idea of forcing her pleasure, and telling her to be friendlier. May used to be friendlier, used to be warmer, and Kilgrave had no right to expect that from her. He had no right to demand anything from her – but when had that stopped him?

Bitch. He wanted to go in there, punch Kilgrave right then, but knew it would only make the situation worse. So far, everything was fine, and Melinda was safe – if he went in and antagonized Kilgrave, it would only escalade.

Apparently he wasn’t needed to make the situation worse.

The desire to cheer on Melinda for twisting Kilgrave’s arm, for punching him, warred with Coulson’s fear for her life. He saw it in Kilgrave’s face as his decision set in, and Coulson stared to rise from his seat, recognizing the look on Kilgrave’s face and the way he nearly seemed to be looking at him as he stared at the mirror.

It was as if he heard the command Kilgrave gave to May just moments before he spoke it. And then, suddenly, the two way mirror was destroyed by Melinda’s fist punching through it, cuts and slashes scattering over her skin as he saw her, the pure fear etched into her features.

He ran into the other room, just in time to watch, horrified, as Melinda plunged the shard of mirror into her chest, creating a deep gash as blood bloomed against her chest. “Kilgrave, what the hell are you doing?!” He shouted in anger as he wrenched May’s hand away from her chest, pinning the hand that held the mirror shard to the wall and looking back at the other man. “You want to convince everyone you can handle this? You can’t just kill everyone who gets in your way! Remove the command, now!”

KILGRAVE: He didn't usually watch them do it. He had no desire to see the blood, the gore, but since Jessica had pinned the desk against him? Since Daisy had fucked off and abandoned him? He didn't care anymore. He stared at her as the familiar blank look fell across her face, shutting off that infuriating superior expression. There it was. The way they should all look. Her eyes, which had been cold before, were empty now. She didn't look pissed, or afraid. She just obeyed. Just like she should have right from the moment he'd walked into the room.

Agent May turned towards the glass and punched it with as much force as she'd hit him, which seemed fitting. Even at the first sign of blood on her knuckles didn't make him turn away. It was sickening, it was fucking disgusting, but he kept watching her as she picked up the piece of mirror. Cut your heart out. It was brutal. He usually didn't give a shit how they did it, just as long as they were gone. But this bitch? She deserved to suffer. He wanted her to feel every second of it. She'd hit him. Jessica Jones only got away with that kind of insubordination because he couldn't make her pay for it. But that didn't mean every bitch with a smug attitude got to punch him in the face. Jessica and Daisy and even Patsy. At last, someone was paying their dues.

She plunged the glass into her chest, and he made himself stay still and watch, even as she dragged it through her flesh. They never screamed. They never bloody screamed. People had cut off limbs and stabbed themselves and shot their spouses, and they didn't scream while it was happening. He'd heard their screams later, after the command had been carried out, usually as he was walking away. But never during. And Agent May was no different. She stabbed the glass into her chest, right through her shirt, and started to cut. Blood gushed out of the wound, so dark it was almost black, and it made him feel nauseous just looking at it. But she was staring at him -- this fucking arrogant bitch -- and he wouldn't look away now. He kept looking at her hand, so steady, even as she slid it through her skin.

Suddenly, Coulson ran in, and Kilgrave was completely thrown. What the hell was Phil doing here? He tore his gaze away from May and stared at Coulson in shock. Before he could tell Phil to stay there, to not interfere, the other man had crossed the room and wrestled May's hand away from her chest, physically fighting her not to do what she'd been told. Typical. What a Jessica Jones thing to do. Jesus, he was surrounded by all these sodding do-gooders who didn't ever see what he saw. Why had he ever though this would work out? This being a hero lark. What the hell did it get him, anyway? Jessica had stabbed him in the back and Daisy had left him and Phil was a bloody pen-pushing idiot.

Remove the command, now. Kilgrave stared at him. He was so unused to hearing that sort of emotion in anyone's voice, except Jessica. They all sounded slightly off, like actors. The whole world was a goddamn stage, wasn't that how the phrase went? That's all it had ever been. Everything happened around him. It never touched him. But as he stared at Coulson, literally fighting this bitch for her life, he wondered what it would be like to be like them, to be like Jessie. To actually give a shit. To be like Daisy, and cry when a woman didn't commit suicide, because she cared that much about a bloody stranger.

And he was so fucking tired. Of being looked at the way Coulson was looking at him. The way his parents had looked at him. That mixture of horror and anger and sadness and something else, something too confusing for him to name. Jessica looked at him that way, and Daisy looked at him that way, and sometimes the ones who took a moment to obey, they looked at him like that too. He was exhausted with all of it. With trying to be like them, trying to be friendly. He'd tried, with this one, to be polite and smile and act like he was pleased to be wasting his time. Just like he'd tried with Daisy. But, just like every other bitch, this May woman had screwed him over.

"Why?" he asked Coulson. He hadn't asked that in a long time. The last time he actually remembered asking that of another man was when he'd asked his father, when Albert had punished him for some tiny bad thing he'd done. Decades ago, before his powers. Before. And his father had said because I said so. He looked at Phil, and felt uncharacteristically lost in the face of all that emotion. "Why should I remove it, huh? What does she --" he pointed at her carelessly, "-- Mean to you? Oh, and you can stop it, with the glass, Agent May. Stand still. Coulson wants to explain himself properly." The order for Agent May was a necessity, because Phil wouldn't be able to answer if he was fighting her.

MELINDA: The door swung open and Melinda’s jaw tensed because she knew who had walked through that door -- but she had silently begged to not have him see this. Kilgrave looked away from her and slowly, Melinda’s dark eyes found their way towards Phil and managed to catch that look of horror in his eyes when she made that first cut. There was a wave of nausea that hit her and forced her to look away from him, her eyes back on the shard of glass in her hands, watching the blood drip from the tip while she tried to ignore the excruciating pain in the center of her chest. Because focusing on that, on the blood dripping down the center of her body, dividing her in half, was better than the look of horror on Phil’s face.

Phil grabbed her wrist and Melinda fought against him -- she couldn’t stop herself. His words bouncing around in her mind, telling her to cut her heart out, she couldn’t stop. She wanted to drop the glass -- let it clatter to the floor and be done with this, but instead, as Phil pinned her hand to the wall behind her, she struggled in his grip. Twisting her wrist toward his thumb. He shouted at Kilgrave and she stared at the side of his face with a fearful expression. Not for her own safety -- but for his. Even if Kilgrave didn’t hurt Phil directly, he could force Phil to watch her kill herself -- force him to enjoy it if he wanted.

He shouted a command at Kilgrave, demanded that he take the order off of her and Melinda felt her heart pounding against her wounded chest. Each beat hurting more than the last. As Kilgrave started speaking to Phil and her stomach turned again. He wanted Phil to tell him what she meant to him and unfamiliar anxiety filled her chest. She pulled her eyes away from Phil, not wanting to look at him when he finally confessed whatever it was he was feeling about her. Trying not to fall back into that thought -- that she had confessed she loved him and he had said nothing. The lack of anything was more painful than an outright rejection, and she had always wanted to know what he felt, wanted to have this conversation but not like this. Never like this.

Kilgrave ordered her to stop and there was a moment of relaxation that came with it, the mirror shard dropped from her hand and Melinda looked at her palm. There was a deep cut there from how tightly she had gripped the shard. But she could breathe. Melinda had been about to reach up with her hand -- to grab the torn fabric of her shirt and pull it closed to hide the wound she had created on herself, but the muscles in her body tensed. Stand still followed by the narrative that Phil wanted to explain himself. Melinda’s jaw tightened, her back teeth clenched. She wanted to tell Kilgrave that no, Phil didn’t want to explain and that this conversation about their relationship was one they should be having without him -- without any audience. But she swallowed her words and remained still as commanded.

PHIL: Melinda’s blood coated his palm, slick and warm. For just a brief moment, Phil understood Kilgrave’s displeasure, but for a very different reason. For Kevin Thompson, bodily fluids and blood and everything reminded him of humanity, who he felt was beneath him. The thought of blood coating his hands sickened him because it was ‘gross’. Coulson had been in battlefields, had held dying friends in his arms. Held dying loves in his arms. Rosalind. The thought of her came to his mind unbidden, and he didn’t want to think of it, not when he imagined another person he felt so strongly about dying. “Please, I can’t lose you too.” He said softly, nearly inaudibly, staring at Melinda with wide and fearful eyes.

Kilgrave’s anger at Coulson trying to stop him was evident, but Phil didn’t care as he stared right back. But he felt relief as the commandment was removed from Melinda and she dropped the glass. It clattered to the floor, and he kicked it away. Surely, it would have been easy for Kilgrave to just give her another command - there was more glass on the floor, more cuts criss-crossing her arms, and more ways she could hurt herself - or him - all over the room. But it was one inch of freedom they had against him.

“What does it matter to you?” He asked, anger biting his voice for the first time since Kilgrave had rescued Daisy. He had almost believed he saw sympathy in the other man’s eyes, almost believed Kilgrave, with enough effort, could become something resembling a human being. He knew he had to avoid making him angry, because with a quick move Kilgrave could slaughter every agent in the building, or make them kill each other. “This, of all things, was enough to set you off? You’re supposed to not do this. She’s supposed to be training you and you’re trying to hurt her.” He said, but his voice betrayed far more emotion than an agent who should be removed from the situation would have.

Pulling in a deep breath, Phil spoke. “She’s probably the best agent on Earth and someone you would be incarcerated for hurting. She taught countless people far more dangerous than yourself, and I allowed this assignment hoping you wouldn’t do exactly what you’ve just done. If I wasn’t watching on the other side of that mirror, she’d be dead and you would have lost any hope of proving to people that what they think about you is wrong. You’d be doing exactly what you’ve always done.” He said coldly.

Glancing back at Melinda, Phil clenched and unclenched his hand. “She is my best friend, and my partner. Haven’t we already done this before, where you try to hurt my loved ones and I get angry with you? Don’t you ever get tired of ruining their lives?"

KILGRAVE: What did it matter to him? It mattered because Kilgrave had spent his entire life watching people, objects in his life, with these... reactions. Crying and screaming and falling to their knees when their husbands or children harmed themselves. He knew what it was. Empathy. He'd felt it, for Daisy, on that jet. How did these people live like that? He stared at Coulson, and wanted to just let Agent May kill herself so they could talk about this without the distraction. He'd actually come to enjoy the other man's company. They were partners. But here he was, giving him a lecture? Like his dad would have? No, worse than his dad, because at least he'd always known his dad was a twat.

"She wasn't training me," he snapped. Of course Phil would be on her side. "She punched me in the face! You can't honestly believe that's training." Coulson had to see that. This so-called 'training' was pointless anyway. He'd never be a match for Jessica, physically, so why the hell were they wasting his time? He shouldn't have bothered. God, to think he actually put in an effort with this cold-hearted bitch. He glanced at May for a second, and saw the blood pouring down her chest. Good. He'd thought Jessica was the only person he would enjoy watching suffer, but it turned out, there were two. It only lasted a moment, but he looked into May's blank eyes, and didn't bother to try to see what they saw. What, apparently, they all bloody saw. All he could see was a nuisance, something to be removed.

And then, Coulson started talking again, and Kilgrave turned to look at him. He should've expected this bullshit. The best agent, blah blah blah. He rolled his eyes. Jessica had threatened him with prison as well, as if any judge would even want to convict him. They'd see it his way, that this bitch had it coming. Everyone always agreed with him. Just like they never screamed when they harmed themselves and they never begged not to do it. They all just did it. It was always as simple as that.

All it would take would be one sentence. You don't care about her. And then, Phil wouldn't. All that judgement and anger and whatever the hell else he was feeling would vanish. Things could go back to the way they were before this. May could kill herself, and Coulson wouldn't give a shit. But all that emotion, that genuinely confusing, overwhelming, emotion, would be gone. And he'd be looking at the same bloody blank stare, the same hollow eyes, that he always looked at. You don't care about Agent May. And Coulson would say Yes, I don't care about Agent May. Because that's what they always fucking said. And he was so, so, tired of it. It would be like Phil said. He'd be doing exactly what he'd always done.

When faced with Jessica Jones, all he wanted was submission. He wanted that hollow look, the knowledge that she was a puppet and she was finally doing what she was told and bending. But Jessica was the exception. Did he really want that from Coulson? Christ, he was so bored of it. Of them all just being empty.

Phil said they'd done this before, and Kilgrave looked at him in disbelief. "This isn't about you," he said. "I'm not trying to hurt your loved ones. I don't even know who this is." Again, he shot May a disgusted look. "You know this isn't about you, Phil. Blimey, I thought you were clever." He looked at May for a long time. She was important to Phil. But she did deserve to die. He remembered that woman, genuinely thanking him for rescuing her. And what Daisy had said. Just this once save someone’s life. Didn't he ever get tired of ruining their lives? What sort of question was that?

"You want to know if I get tired?" he repeated, throwing the question back at Phil. "Why should I?" He didn't want an answer to that -- Coulson would be able to say anything satisfactory. After a moment, he turned back to May, who was still standing there, blood dripping down her front, her shirt sliced open. She'd hit him. But maybe she'd done penance for that. And he was fucking exhausted with this. So he said, "Fine. Fine. You don't want to cut your heart out. There." He glanced at Phil. "Happy now? I saved your best agent."

MELINDA: She wasn’t looking Phil in the eyes, not at first. But then he spoke, said that he couldn’t lose her too, and her dark eyes finally came up to see that fear in his face. Melinda was quiet for a beat, looking him in the eyes before finally whispering, “And I don’t want to lose you, again.” She had lost him twice before already, once when Loki’s staff tore through the center of his chest and again when his heart had stopped -- it had only been for a moment, but how many chances was Phil going to have at life? How many brushes with death would be too much?

It was like Kilgrave had opened a flood gate. Anger was dripping from Phil’s voice and Melinda wanted to warn him -- beg him to stop. Not to show that much emotion for what was happening to her because Kilgrave could manipulate that. Not that he had to, all it would take was for a single command, a careless thought spoken aloud and he could change Phil and Melinda’s relationship. Could make them not care about each other, or hurt each other, or make them care more deeply for each other. And then inflict pain on them. It just depended on how sadistic Kilgrave was feeling. How much he wanted to punish them for not falling in line perfectly with what he imagined. How far would he go to make them what he wanted?

Kilgrave was living in a bubble. Expecting the people around him to play the roles that he expected and growing more and more furious each time someone didn’t line up perfectly with what he wanted. They were supposed to be his dolls but neither of them were playing his game. Or at least, they were trying to resist it. Fighting against the impossible -- fighting against mind control. Acting like they could reason with him when his emotions changed at the drop of a hat. Melinda wondered why Kilgrave even wanted to be an agent. Was this just to paint himself in a better light? Did he believe that being an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. would change all the wrongs he had done? Did he think people would suddenly respect him? He didn’t understand pain or loss, not in the way any other agent did. He didn’t have the empathy or humanity to understand the consequences of his actions. If he ever did field work, nothing good would come of it. He’d do what he had just done, offer a careless command and jeopardize any real mission. Kilgrave was a liability. But why didn’t the higher-ups at S.H.I.E.L.D. see that?

When Phil started singing her praises, Melinda felt her stomach twist. She wanted to tell Phil to stop -- to keep all that information from Kilgrave. But she knew she couldn’t -- she knew he couldn’t stop because Kilgrave had asked. Demanded it of him. Pulling out the information like a leech. But then Phil glanced at her, Melinda caught his eyes and listened to his words. She is my best friend, and my partner. It was the expected response and Melinda gave the smallest smile. It wasn't a happy smile, there was a small trickle of sadness on her features because again, she didn’t know how he felt. Or maybe this was it? They were colleagues and that was all. She pushed the expression away as Kilgrave finally removed the command. That impulse to hurt herself was gone finally. But the pain she felt wasn’t. Her chest heaved as the pain became the only thing she could feel, but she kept quiet. Her left-hand clenching when Kilgrave claimed to have saved her. He had forced her to hurt herself, and now that he removed the command he was, what? Her savior? Did he really believe he that? He inflicted the harm, he didn’t get to pretend to be a hero when he finally stopped.

PHIL: Happy. That was what Kilgrave wanted to know. If he was happy that he’d spared Melinda’s life. Phil stared at her, heart pounding in his chest as relief flooded through him. Of course he was happy she was alive - he’d nearly lost her too many times and it felt like any time they thought they might be happy, something worse happened and suddenly someone was kidnapped by a mad scientist, or made a deal to die, or another obstacle fell into their path and it became impossible.

But that wasn’t what Kilgrave wanted to hear. Out of all things, Kilgrave wanted approval and love and someone to care about him - and, in a twisted way, Coulson could understand that. “Thank you.” He said hoarsely, his tight hold on Melinda slipping enough to release the tension in him. I’m not trying to hurt your loved ones. It felt somehow worse, to hear that, and remember how his first introduction to Kilgrave had been the man hurting Jessica in a way clearly meant to hurt Daisy. Had he said it? No. But why would he chose someone so clearly linked to Daisy as well? Why wouldn’t Kilgrave have attacked Trish, or Sofia? There were so many people who Jessica cared about - for all that she pretended otherwise. Why else would Kilgrave have chosen him?

“I don’t care that it wasn’t about me, I care that it was about her.” Coulson said, gritting his teeth. At his worst moments, he compared himself to the people he fought against. Kilgrave, Hive, Ward. But he recalled Kilgrave’s agony at Daisy in pain, and how he didn’t understand or empathize. Seeing her in pain brought him pain - it was that simple. For Phil, though, he didn’t want to see Melinda in pain but that didn’t make her pain any less important. And he knew that she could survive it, and didn’t want her to ignore it like Kilgrave had ordered Daisy to. He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm even as Melinda was still stiff against his side. He shook his head - Kilgrave had never done anything in his miserable life enough to become tired, had he? It was just mindless repetition though - the same thing, over and over again. Nothing ever changed when it came to Kilgrave, and nothing ever would.

“You ordered her to stay still. You need to remove that command as well.” He said harshly. But his words turned to ash on his tongue as he said the next part. “You are dismissed for the day. Report to my office for work tomorrow morning."

KILGRAVE: Coulson thanked him, and Kilgrave chose to ignore how flat his voice was, how disingenuous he sounded. It didn't matter how he said it, only that it was said. Phil didn't need to fight May anymore -- she relaxed as soon as the command was removed -- and Kilgrave looked at them both. Phil had called her his loved one, putting this random woman in the same category as Daisy and Jessica. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised -- the man clearly had a penchant for bitches. Jessica, Daisy, now this Agent May. They were all the same. It was typical, really.

She was still standing there, the bitch who'd hit him, with blood pouring down her front from where she'd tried to cut out her heart. She hadn't moved, or said anything -- good girl -- but he could see the loathing and anger in her eyes. He shouldn't have saved her. He should have let her finish the job. What was one less arrogant, hate-filled, woman? Sod what she meant to Phil. He didn't care. And he could still tell Coulson not to care. But he couldn't be bothered with any of them. He was bored with their pair, with Phil's anger, with the whole bloody thing. Though, he supposed, at least they wouldn't try to 'train' him, again. May had proven how pointless it was.

And then, Coulson gave him another order. His tone was sharp, angry. Kilgrave rolled his eyes. Blimey, Phil really was just like his dad. Don't do that, Kevin; you need to rearrange the coloured blocks, Kevin; do what your mother says, Kevin. His old dad, who had ended up being dismembered alive. Kilgrave looked at him for a long time.

He'd been dismissed, like a goddamn child. He couldn't remember ever being dismissed in his life, by anyone, and here was his so-called boss, telling him he was dismissed. It was unbelievable. He seriously considered telling Phil to shut up (actually, he considered telling Phil to put his sodding head through a wall) but again, he just wanted to leave. Coulson was right about one thing. He was done for the day. He was so tired of them both. So, after a moment of weighted silence, he exhaled slowly. "You can move, Agent May," he said, pronouncing her stupid title scornfully. "Do whatever you want. I don't care." And he didn't. He meant that. He rubbed is eyes with his index finger and thumb. "I hope you know, Phil, I won't be training again. Tell your higher-ups that." It was an unnecessary order, really, but he gave it anyway.

And, with that, because he couldn't stand to be around them for another second, he turned way from them and walked towards the door. He didn't say another thing to them, or tell Coulson he would make their meeting. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't. Either way, there wasn't a thing Phil could do about it, and they all knew it.

MELINDA: Melinda was quiet during the entire exchange. Each impulse she felt to move was squashed by the command that Kilgrave had placed on her. She couldn’t grip Phil’s hand or close the opening she had cut in her own clothes. It didn’t matter what she wanted or needed because Kilgrave had commanded something else. Phil demanded that the command be removed from her and in the same breath dismissed Kilgrave like he was a child pretending to be an adult. Her muscles would have tensed if she wasn’t already stiff.

But Kilgrave removed the order, but he couldn’t help himself and slipped in another without a second thought. He likely didn’t even realize what he had said -- he didn’t care enough to pay attention to his own words. But Melinda heard him. Do whatever you want. She didn’t hear the rest of what he was saying, her mind was still trying to process that command. The entire time she had been standing there she had wanted many things. Her left hand came up and she pulled together the fabric of her shirt and hid the gash on her chest from sight again. It didn’t hide the stains on her clothes or the evidence that was dripping onto the ground, but she didn’t feel as vulnerable. At least for a moment.

And then every feeling she had buried in that interaction, every emotion she had bottled up came pouring out. She wanted to cry -- to let it all out. Melinda moved her right arm around Phil, her hip against the side of his body as she turned her head inwards towards him, hiding her face in the fabric of his suit jacket. Melinda May didn’t cry at work, she kept that part of herself hidden away because she was an agent and she needed to keep her emotions ten feet away. Even after Bahrain, Melinda had managed to keep her emotions far away until she was home, behind closed doors with Andrew. But that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want to hold it in and keep pretending that she hadn’t been scared. She just wanted to hold onto Phil -- and a quiet moment to collect herself before they went to have her stitched up. So, she held onto him tightly and tried to mask the sounds of her sobs with his jacket.

PHIL: Phil let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding once Kilgrave left, though he felt the command to speak to his superiors. Kilgrave was right - training just made this worse. But he rationalized that the command didn't have to be immediate, and he had a meeting to discuss how the training session went this afternoon. He could tell them there.

It was when Melinda clung to him, holding onto him like he was a lifeline, that he recognized the last command to do whatever you want. Not intentional, surely, but he was almost glad for it.

Arms encircleing Melinda's waist even as her blood soaked his shirt, he raised his chin on top of her head and pressed a kiss to her hair, his hand moving up and down her back in low, soothing circles. "It's okay. You're okay." He promised softly, the thought of Bahrain and the girl coming to the forefront of his mind and cursing that Kilgrave had become a nightmare. Another monster under the bed. Another drop in the bucket on a long list of traumas and reasons to be cold and jaded towards the world. And yet, Melinda wasn't cold and jaded towards the world, even if she wanted to be. She was the kindest person he knew. "Let him go, Melinda." He said. "He's gone. Let him go. I'm right here."

[lisbonsteresa]

in defense of wyatt's ill-timed confession: the man was also grieving and did not seem in control of his emotions. don't get me wrong i think it was incredibly poor writing and seemed like a hail mary for lyatt fans (which i still am deep down) but it was so poorly executed and really shouldn't have happened at all in that moment, however he is grieving rufus and had several traumatic events on top of immense guilt. anyway i dont feel like any confession on his part should have happened in s2

Thing of it is nonnie, I would have probably let that ‘confession’ stand and not had any feelings on it one way or another had he not brought up Rufus. This season has brought lyatt to such an ‘eh’ place for me that despite what was said in that scene, or how Lucy reacted, I wouldn’t have given it much credence and let it play out however it did and kept my thoughts to myself. But since he did bring Rufus into it, the whole speech makes me angry instead.

For the one thing, I don’t think Rufus gave even the slightest shit about what was going on with Wyatt-Lucy-Jessica after 2.06. Because he had more important things to worry about. (in all honesty i don’t think he cared too much about it before that because he had Jiya’s visions and other missions to think about, but he did comment on it so I’ll allow it). Rufus learns that he’s going to die, and that very understandably takes vast precedence over whatever mess of a love triangle Wyatt’s got going on. (I would even argue that from 2.06 onward we get almost a clear-cut split between the W-L-J plot and the Rufus and Jiya plot - there are still moments when they all interact, but they don’t involve discussing their relationships until Rufus - very rightly - tells Wyatt off in the finale.)

Even if we allow the idea that Rufus was concerned about what was going on with Wyatt’s situation throughout the whole season, he sure as hell wasn’t after one third of that triangle took the love of his life captive and stole the Lifeboat. “You got so caught up in this Lucy and Jessica soap opera that you forgot there are other people in this bunker, people who love each other” is a pretty clear indicator that Rufus was waaaaaay far off of the ‘ss lyatt’ (or the ss jyatt or the ss anything involving those idiots). He was most certainly not standing in the background, wishing and hoping and cheering for a lyatt reunion, and even if he was, you could not pay me all the money in the world to think he would react with ‘it’s about damn time’.

Maybe if Wyatt had reacted differently to his callout in 2.01 he may have said that. Maybe in the aftermath of Hollywoodland he said/thought that. But after 2.04? (sub-point that adds to this; I believe @trash-by-european-villains made a post of a similar nature where they said that Rufus is loyal. he is a loyal friend to Wyatt, yes, but he’s also a loyal friend to Lucy. and he might have been pushing Wyatt to say something during WWII and waving metaphorical pom-poms after 2.03, but just because he was the captain of the lyatt cheering squad for the first few episodes (a separate issue altogether, but i digress) does not mean that he would continue supporting them being together after the mess that happened with Jess. He spent the rest of the season supportive of Wyatt making a go of it with Jess but also there to comfort Lucy in her reactions to it (when he was included in that plot at all) and honestly if you think he was still waiting in the wings for a lyatt reunion after seeing how hurt Lucy was by the entire situation, then I’m inclined to think you don’t think too much about Rufus as his own character or about Rufus and Lucy’s friendship.

And especially after 2.06? Nope, nuh-uh, he had his own shit to deal with. And that shit came into direct conflict with Wyatt’s shit and he was not happy about it, so honestly get outta here with that ‘it’s what Rufus would have wanted’ bs because I do not think he could have cared less about lyatt with everything else going on. (also, small, petty point becauseimstillmadwelosthimatall - Rufus is……how should I say this…dead. you know what he wanted? to not die. Rufus doesn’t give a single fuck about who you love ‘wherever he is’ Wyatt, and I’m so mad that they gave him the gall to include that line at all).

Moving on - and more to your point nonnie - I get that Wyatt was grieving and not fully in control of his emotions/actions, I will most definitely allow him that. He has gone through a lot of confusing feelings this season, and then in the finale he was ‘betrayed’ (quotes because I’m still not over that whole storyline and wow. much shock.) by the person he saw as his family, loses his wife all over again - this time by her choice and taking his child with her - and then loses his best friend. So of course he’s a mess, I get that. However…..know who’s also a mess? Know who also lost any family they had left, and their best friend, and even themselves? Lucy.

Lucy Preston has systematically been broken down through this entire season; she has lost everything and she has gone to a VERY dark place (I’m talking dark and scary and violent- let’s not forget that if that gun has been loaded, Lucy would have sprayed Emma’s brain all over that alley). And I don’t know if that ‘confession’ was supposed to be Wyatt comforting her or a nice moment for them to bond over their shared pain, but it sure as hell was neither for me. Lucy has spent the majority of this season having to grin and bear her way through this whole Jessica situation; had to deal with the pain of losing Wyatt and then seeing him (and hearing him) with his wife every damn day; had to deal with Wyatt wanting to have his cake and eat it to, with him not understanding that she needed space and instead expecting their relationship to be as close and comfortable as it had been, and damn that is a lot. And then on top of that she has losing her mom, losing Amy, losing Rufus piling onto her shoulders. If anyone should be making wild statements and confessions, it should be Lucy.

Putting all that aside, the timeline of the episode and how it led to Wyatt’s ‘confession’ irks me. Whatever your feelings on Jessica, it is made very clear that Wyatt loved and likely still does love her. It might not be the same way he did before the reveal; he might not want to, but this woman was his family and he spent years trying to get her back and she is carrying his child and he still has a connection to and feelings for her. Even if you want to argue that the feelings are only about the baby, they’re still there. We go from Wyatt pleading Jess to stay with him, telling her through teary eyes that he’s her family, he and the baby are her family and her future, and stopping Flynn from shooting at her because she’s carrying his child, to Wyatt sitting next to Lucy and essentially telling her he’s been in love with her the whole time. And it just doesn’t match up with what we’ve seen and it doesn’t make sense.

Because that means that either Wyatt HAS been in love with Lucy this whole time, but he still tried to make things work with Jess (not supported by the plot, but ya know) which isn’t fair for either woman but is honestly cruel to Lucy, because in that case there was no reason for her to go through so much pain on Wyatt’s behalf when he could have just told Jess from the start he had fallen for someone else; or (supported by the plot) he did have feelings for Lucy but he got his wife, who he never properly let go of/moved on from, back, and he stopped whatever he had started with Lucy to try again with Jess, in which case I still maintain it could have been handled SO much better but his actions are more understandable. But if it is the latter, than the show just stomps all over everything it had previously told us by having Wyatt say he’s been in love with Lucy and ‘should have said it a long time ago, but I didn’t so I’m saying it now’.

The whole thing feels very contradictory and - to ME - really just makes Lucy look like a second choice. By which I mean Wyatt went through all this drama, all this mess with Jess, and then after her secret was revealed - again, much shock. - and he STILL ran after her and tried to convince her to stay with him, maybe 3-4 hours later he’s telling Lucy he’s loved her through all of it, which, no, doesn’t hold water for me. Lucy does not deserve that being thrust on her with everything else she’s dealing with, regardless of Wyatt’s state of distress/unstable emotion.

And, to bring the two points - kind of - together, she REALLY did not need Wyatt’s feelings thrust upon her with the added note - and pressure - that this is what Rufus would have wanted. Which just…..mhmhm that was so unnecessary. Because - again, to ME - that makes it feel like Lucy is almost being guilted. ‘It’s what Rufus wanted’ - well first of all, no, second of all it makes it seem like she’d be disrespecting Rufus’s memory or his wishes if she DOESN’T respond to this positively. And I know that’s not the intention, but wow it sure is what I got out of it.

So…..TLDR nonnie; while I can understand and sympathize to a certain extent with the pain and turmoil and guilt Wyatt is feeling, the timing and phrasing of his ‘confession’ really rubbed me the wrong way and I don’t feel like it benefited anyone other than Wyatt himself.

[jeremystrele]

Caring for New Mothers Shouldn’t Stop at Six Weeks, According To Author + Co-Founder of Mama Goodness, Jessica Prescott

Caring for New Mothers Shouldn’t Stop at Six Weeks, According To Author + Co-Founder of Mama Goodness, Jessica Prescott

Family

Ashe Davenport

Cookbook author, postpartum doula and co-founder of Mama Goodness, Jess Prescott, with her two boys Louie and Jude. Photo – Bri Hammond for The Design Files.

Little Jude and Jess reading a book. Photo – Bri Hammond for The Design Files.

Jess and her husband Andy at home in Preston. Photo – Bri Hammond for The Design Files.

Andy, Louie, Jude and Jess in bed! Photo – Bri Hammond for The Design Files.

Jess with Louie, who started school this year. Photo – Bri Hammond for The Design Files.

Jess is a vegan chef who has written multiple coobooks! Photo �� Bri Hammond for The Design Files.

The family at their dining table. Photo – Bri Hammond for The Design Files.

Jess letting Jude outside. Photo – Bri Hammond for The Design Files.

Louie checking on the lemons in the backyard. Photo – Bri Hammond for The Design Files.

Jess and Jude cheersing with watermelon! Photo – Bri Hammond for The Design Files.

Jess and Jude having a snack. Photo – Bri Hammond for The Design Files.

What I would have given for a Jess Prescott after I gave birth to my first baby. And my second. And right now, for that matter, as I tow my 3 + 5 year old to daycare and rush to work, only to rush back two hours later with reports of a snotty nose. Then home to the impossible task of working while parenting as my “sick” child climbs mountains of folding yelling for snacks. Infinite, eternal snacks. 

Jess says postpartum is forever. And maybe that’s a healthy way to look at things. Because rates of postpartum depression are at an all-time high. Daycare fees are inordinate. And a third of mothers describe their birth as traumatic. There’s immense pressure to look incredible, have meaningful careers and “hold space” for our kid’s tsunami of emotion. All on Very. Little. Sleep. 

We need all the support we can get. At a policy level, in the workplace, at home, in life. Jess provides that support through Mama Goodness. And teaches us how to ask for it.

Ashe Davenport: There’s pressure on birthing people to “snap back” after the baby arrives, physically, emotionally, socially, etc. How much do you hate that on a scale of 1-100?

Jess Prescott: I don’t ‘hate’ it per se, but I am deeply saddened by it as it is detrimental to the mental and physical health of birthing people, which trickles down to their children, their community, and society at large. Nothing is the same after birth. How can they be when we have gone through one of the most monumental transitions we will ever go through as humans? To grow and birth a baby is a massive undertaking that requires deep rest in the days, weeks and months that follow. Birthing people need to be physically and emotionally nourished, and given the time and space to bond with the living, breathing piece of themselves they have brought into the world. And not worry about whether or not their jeans fit.

My Maternal and Child Health Nurse was most interested in weighing grams and ticking boxes. And my Parents’ Group was grim. What do you think is missing from the standard support systems available to new parents? 

Compassion. Help. FOOD. Raising little humans is just so hard, and even with the best supports in place, sleep deprivation can make the strongest of people unravel. There needs to be more acknowledgment of this, and the narrative needs to shift so that people feel safe admitting they aren’t coping. We need to normalise the challenges that parents of small humans go through, so that others know how to help, and so that help becomes the norm and not the thing we seek out only when we are at rock bottom.

It also truly baffles me that support tends to only last for 6 or so weeks, and anything beyond that is considered indulgent. After the meal train runs out and the doula and midwife visits stop, we are left on our own with a tiny baby and sometimes multiple other children. Most babies are still waking multiple times in the night and we are unable to put them down in the day time, not even to shower or fix ourselves something to eat. Time after time, I’ve seen new mums struggle with this as I bid them farewell at my final Postpartum Doula visit. There is a sense of bewilderment as they wonder how they will survive the days alone after feeding their hungry little babies all night now that partners have gone back to work and all paid support has come to a bittersweet end. Society needs to change its view of mothers so that they are shown the reverence they deserve, rather than being cast aside until they are able to rejoin the workforce.

I notice a lot of people’s eyes glaze over when I talk about motherhood. Either that or they’re completely horrified. How do you respond to that?

Haha oh the eye glaze. I mean, I get it. They have different interests to me and that’s ok. I’m not sure I was overly excited about the children of strangers before I was a mother myself. Now I understand that to most people, our children are an extension of ourselves, and when people pay attention to our kids or our boring stories about our kids, it is deeply validating. People who GET that are very special. 

As for the horror, well, I remind them that the love outweighs it all. It really does. It doesn’t make sense until you know that love yourself, but it does. Motherhood is the most deeply humbling journey I have ever been on, and it has added a depth to my character that I am grateful for, even on the hardest of days.

Social media: friend or sadist to a vulnerable parent craving connection/visibility? 

Both! We are very lucky to have access to so much information and connection at our fingertips and I know I’m not alone when I say that Instagram made the endless hours of breastfeeding more bearable. But it is up to us to curate our feed. If someone makes us feel yuck, either unfollow or mute them. We owe no explanation to anyone except ourselves.

I burned with shame at the thought of someone knowing I wasn’t coping. What would you say to that new parent who desperately needs help, but refuses to admit it?

Oh gosh, I wish you could see how hard it is for everyone, that you are not alone in your struggles and that even that ‘perfect mum’ to whom everything comes effortlessly is struggling. Everyone is struggling in their own way, even non-parents. It’s ok to need help. It’s normal to need help. How this help looks will be different for everyone but you are not alone. It is FUCKING HARD to raise a family.  It’s not something we were ever supposed to do alone, so to feel like you need help means there is something RIGHT with you, not something wrong.

I also want to add that postpartum depression is most commonly diagnosed when the firstborn child is 4 years old – regardless of whether subsequent children are born. Keep checking in on your friends, people. Especially the strong ones and even when their babies aren’t babies anymore.

How do you hope a new mum feels after a delivery from Mama Goodness? 

Loved. Seen. Relieved. Overjoyed. Like a giant weight has been lifted off their shoulders. That they can rest easy knowing that meals and snacks are taken care of for the next few days, and that everything they consume will be bringing them maximum nutrition. Like they are a part of our village.

What’s the last miniature joy you experienced?

Oh, they are all around me! This morning when Andy handed me my coffee. Every morning when Jude says ‘you have a good sweep mama?’ as he wraps his little body around mine. Or when he grabs my face and says ‘I wuv you so much’ followed by ‘I wuv your hair’.

How should people support new mums when they are visiting – What are the visitor ‘do’s and don’ts’ for 0-6 weeks postpartum?

Don’t expect to visit in the first couple of weeks. It is such a tender and raw time, most people have no idea what day or time it is and are still bonding with their baby and learning to breastfeed. If you are lucky enough to receive an invite over, bring food. Send a message when you’re on your way, reminding them that they don’t need to tidy before you come, and asking if they need anything. Even if they say no, ALWAYS BRING FOOD. Only stay for a maximum of an hour and make sure you wash your hands but don’t for one minute expect to hold the baby, unless they ask you to so that they can shower/go to the bathroom/play with their toddler/nap. Make them a tea and wash any dishes in the sink while you are at it. Ask how you can help. Give heaps of attention to their other children. Don’t be late, they probably have naps and midwife visits scheduled around your visit.

And 6+ weeks postpartum?

Again, food. Don’t expect that because the birthing person is past that 6 week mark they are miraculously able to resume their old life. Getting out of the house with a small child is a full time job. Offer to go to them, unless they are desperate for an outing in which case, invite them over and send them home with food. Tell them how amazing and beautiful they are, tell them you are in awe of them, and ask them how they are TRULY doing. 

Did I mention you should always give a person with a new baby FOOD??!! Even when they have a 6 or 9 month old, they need food!

What food should we bring to a friend who has just had a baby?

Anything that’s easy to digest, can be eaten with one hand and can be frozen if their fridge is full already (lucky them!). Think soups, stews, lasagna, cottage pie etc. To me, a perfect food hamper contains a lasagna, a soup, a loaf of bread, something sweet such as chocolate or cookies, and tea. Of course you can always just order a pack from Mama Goodness. But seriously, even a pie from your local bakery will be appreciated. New mums are HUNGRY!

FAMILY FAVOURITES

Family cafe

It’s not really a café, but a small Turkish bakery that my family frequents – Tammy’s at the Preston market. Tammy is the loveliest person and she is vegan which means there are endless vegan options as well as non-vegan options. The mushroom and cheese borek is heaven and if you are lucky enough to visit on a day when Tammy has made dolmas, you are in for a treat. I love it so much. There are so many great cafes in Melbourne but none of them feel like home the way Tammy’s does.

‘Me time’ activity?

Pilates, baby!

Sunday morning breakfast ritual? 

Sunday mornings are just as chaotic as the rest of the week as the boys still want brekky at 6am which is way too early for me to eat. But on a good week, I make sourdough on Saturday which I then bake first thing Sunday morning. By the time it’s ready to eat, the boys are ready for their second breakfast and we sit together and eat endless slices. They call it ‘mama bread’. It’s really special.

Weekend getaway?

Anglesea used to be our go-to because my in-laws had a house there. They recently sold, which is bittersweet because we truly love that part of Victoria, but it means we are being forced to explore other pockets of regional Victoria. I have to say, I am yet to be disappointed, we are really very lucky here and manage to find yum food and good op shops wherever we go.

Head to Mama Goodness to book one of Jess’s postpartum doula or food services. And you can check out her brilliant cookbooks, Vegan One-Pot Wonders, Vegan Goodness & Vegan Goodness: Feasts

Need support with perinatal anxiety and depression? You’re not alone. This is a serious illness that affects up to one in five expecting or new mums and one in ten expecting or new dads. PANDA (Perinatal Anxiety & Depression Australia) is a great resource for women, men and families who need help – click here to find out more.  

[hotcocosharing]

REQUEST: Patience Is A Virtue (KBTBB Headcanon)

lemanuka submitted: Hi, are you still doing headcanons? Because I would like to request one, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Could you please make a headcanon were MC gets compared to other women all the time. At the beginning she just ignores it, but later it starts to get to her and someday she can’t take it anymore and gets angry at them and they realize their mistake and apologize.I hope it’s not to much.

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Fandom: Kissed By The Baddest Bidder Category: Fluff? Hurt & Comfort? Character: Ota, Mamoru, Baba Notes: Hope you like this :)

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“She’s hot!”

“Check her out, sexy and confident. Just the way I like it.”

“Not you, kid.”

“Oh my pretty lady, you’re cute but she.. she is something else.”

“Not that I care but I do see her appeal. You however, not so much.”

It’s so easy to hear a compliment from Ota and Baba, nearly every single woman is hot in their eyes. Mamoru treats you like a child and as much as you hate it, you’ve gotten used to it. It’s just a nickname, you’d remind yourself not to let it get to you until a recent regular of Eisuke’s begins to get everyone’s attentions.

Ota

“Our little koro here should learn a thing or two from Jessica. She’s smart and sexy, I bet she takes initiative in bed too. Unlike ______ who blushes over every little things.”

“No I don’t …” Your protest is cut short as the angelic artist corners you to the wall with his delicate fingers teasing your neck and chin.

“See, your heart is raising.”

“Of course it is! You’re so bloody clo…..!!”

The blonde seriously has no intention in listening to you, with his lips slamming onto yours, he only pins your wrists to the wall harder and deepens the kiss at your every attempt of escaping.

The slap to his cheek does not bother him either, somehow it only gives him the satisfaction of proofing how boring and serious you are though the other bidders have to step in and stop you from throwing the rest of Eisuke’s expensive decorations at him which you could not afford in ever paying back. “Go fuck yourself, Ota! You are an ass! I’m done being humiliated by you, all of you. I work here as a maid, not your slave! I owe you all nothing, 20 million my ass! I don’t need you fucked up criminals telling me what I’m worth, I’m perfect the way I am. Sure, Jessica is smart, successful and pretty! So?! That’s no need to compare us! I’m so done with you all!”

You storm out with blood pumping through your veins and eyes burning with rage. Enough is enough! You’d obey Eisuke’s outrageous demands, turn an blind eye at Soryu’s backdoor business, happily help with Mamo’s chaos and the occasionally agree with the Robin Hood theory with the thief but you will not be played, be treated as an object, a fucking toy.

How dare he touches you? Forces himself on you? To prove what? That he’s a complete asshole?

You don’t expect Eisuke to let you go and he doesn’t but he has given you two weeks off, mainly for Ota to sort it out with you like adults.

Not that you’re in position to turn down his offer when the billionaire has so generously sent you two to one of his private islands. You refuse to acknowledge Ota, completely ignore him for the entire week till the blonde subtly apologizes without admitting himself to be a jerk but he has taken all his courage to mutter a sorry.

To promise not to compare you to anyone, to disrespect you in anyway because you of all people, deserve respect as much as anyone does.

Mamoru

The silent treatment has no effect on the lazy detective until he has eventually returned to his filthy suite, slowly realizing the fact that he has taken you for granted, something he couldn’t believe he’s capable of.

In the poor attempt of cleaning his place and preparing dinner as surprises, he begs you to come home. The both of you know the whole kid calling is just his way of showing affection, he loves you dearly but is it enough?

“You’ve captured my heart, ________. Every little things you do is magic, bounding my heart to yours. There’s no one else but you, ________. I promise to treat you with full respect from now on.”

Loyalty and sincerity are what you adore about Mamoru, he’s a man of his words. “You’re honestly hopeless with housework, aren’t you?” You say half jokingly, the corners of your lips turn up into a smile.

And soon your giggles turn into sweet, pleasant laughter as the both of you clean up the disaster before heading out for soba. Hand in hand, lacing your fingers together, stronger than ever.

Baba

“Everything is a joke to you! I’m not one of your lame jokes, I am a woman, a human being and your girlfriend! Why can’t you treat me like one? Stop treating me like a princess, I’ve told you how much I hate it but you never take me seriously! And not defending me while the guys make fun of me makes you just as guilty. Baba, I don’t need a prince but a real man who respects and appreciates me for who I am!”

Your statement and teary face repeat endlessly in Baba’s head for the past two days as the thief tries to make sense of you what mean as well as enduring the awkward silence in bed.

He knows this is something a beautiful bouquet and flattery couldn’t fix, wrecking his brains out, he eventually asks you to meet at his secret spot. With one hand caressing your cheek, he makes a promise under the dancing cherry blossom petals. “I’m terribly sorry, _______.” He begins, his romantic yet apologetic eyes gazing into yours. “You’re right. I should have defended you. We’ve been through so much and you’ve always supported me, believing me while I was in doubt. I want to be a better person, someone I would be proud of, someone you’d be proud of and willing to spend the rest of your lives with. I may not understand everything about you or your belief but I’m ready to learn more if you’d have me back in your life. I promise to always listen, to be patience but most of all, respect you.”

You pull him close and soon feel his strong arms wrapping around your back, “Thank you, Baba. I love you.”

Just before locking your lips together, Baba declares his eternal love to you once more. “I love you too, ________. So so much and I’d do anything for you, anything.”