#how did any of this happen. and i don’t even mean just the whole divorce so we take one kid each thing

[morgana-pendragon]

i simply have to classify the parent trap (1998) as a fantasy film bc treating it like an alternate universe with its own built in lore and customs is the only way i can excuse the sheer amount of plot holes/questions i have as a result of being raised in the 21st century

[prosypepper]

you walk around the corner to see gojo’s girlfriend sitting on top of his desk and him talking to her sitting on his chair between her legs. so much for surprising him with your early coming home from your work trip. even tho he’s your husband you don’t dare take a step further keeping your shock to a silent gasp, worried you’ll get caught. your marriage had been arranged, and even though you loved him and he was a good caring husband, he was never in love with you. while you figured this was happening it still hurt seeing him so happy and full of life when he’s engaging in just simple conversation with her.

almost immediately after he notices you avoiding him and keeping to yourself even more than normal. when he brings it up, you tell him you know about his girlfriend after having listen to them talking for a long time before they started to “make out.” while Gojo isn’t mean or smug about it, he doesn’t deny it leaving you an absolute emotional wreck.

hi honey! thank u for this request, u get me so well :'). i hope i delivered what u were looking for! much love hun!

word count: 1.9k

warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, cheating, mentions of divorce, manipulation if u look hard enough, a couple mentions of sex but no active descriptions. (18+ mdni!)

notes: so i haven't written about gojo yet but i absolutely love this man. let me know what u think! also i did not proofread this, very sorry, i wrote half of it on my lunch break @ work.

you can find part two here

masterlist

“satoruuu!” you chirp your husband’s name as you enter the home, the ending syllables of his name echoing throughout the massive entryway, and you’re met with silence. you drop your bags in front of the door, you can’t help but be enthusiastic about seeing your husband – you’ve been on that stupid business trip that took way too long, and you feel lucky you were able to come back home a few days earlier.

a boisterous laugh comes from upstairs in the empty house, signaling your husband is somewhere around your office – maybe he’s on the phone with a friend and didn’t hear you from all the way downstairs. you smile to yourself and run up the stairs, staying quiet as possible so you can surprise satoru – tiptoeing closer and closer, you see your office door wide open. when you peek around the doorframe into the room, you see your husband, dressed in one of those expensive shirts you bought for your last anniversary –

and there’s a girl, a girl you’ve never seen, perched atop your desk, smiling widely and proud from a joke she cracked to make satoru laugh so loudly.

you draw your head back quickly, praying neither one of them saw you, because you had no idea how to approach the situation at hand. that girl was more than a friend, for sure, with the way satoru was feeling up and down her thighs from sitting in between them. for a second, you feel as if your whole marriage was a lie. 5 years, down the drain, and how many of those years were spent with other women, too?

satoru gojo was the son to your parent’s closest counterparts – you grew up around him, not too close, but enough to know enough about one another by the time you became adults. after college, neither one of you held a long-term partner, so your parents and his decided to arrange a marriage for the both of you. you willingly accepted – satoru was a sweet, caring boy for the most part – yet unbeknownst to you, a cheater who never really had any intentions of staying loyal to his wife. in his mind, the marriage was nothing more than a benefit for the both of you; he agreed to get his parents off his back and live a comfortable life because of the successful jobs you both obtained. you were content taking the man’s last name, having gradually fallen in love with him over time, even planning to have kids with him one day.

all your future dreams and past feelings come to a halt when you see the man with another woman.

you creep back down the stairs, quietly so no one catches on, and you grab your bags and leave again. you don’t go too far at all; you stay down the street in your car so you can see whenever your husband leaves. once he’s on his way to go drop his mistress off, you scurry back to the house and take all your things inside. satoru returns hours later, well past after dark, greeted with you in the kitchen finishing up dinner.

“oh- honey,” satoru perks up upon walking through the door, “i didn’t think you’d be back so early.” he walks up and wraps his arms around your waist from behind, giving you a tight squeeze and kissing your neck. your first instinct is to relax into his touch, as you had always done for years before, but the hurt inside of you causes you to stiffen up at the hug.

“hi, satoru,” you faintly reply, eyes diverting from everything else to the saucepan simmering in front of you on the stove. satoru always had a knack to be able to tell when something was off with you, even from the smallest bit of action. this was no different.

satoru unravels his arms from around you and leans onto the counter adjacent to the stove, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “everything okay, sweetie?” the pet name he most commonly used made your stomach hurt and your chest tighten.

“mmhm,” you bluff, “just a rough trip, i’m really exhausted,” you tell him, gaining a bit of strength to look him in the eyes with a tired expression and a weak smile.

“aww, you should’ve told me, honey. i would’ve got us something while i was out,” satoru says, his sickeningly sweet voice causing a bout of anger inside you.

“i was going to surprise you, but you weren’t here when i got home,” you lie to him, gazing back down to the saucepan and turning the eye off, “where were you so late?” you ask, although you already knew the answer. the question was just a meaningless test.

“ah, i was out with kento. he wanted to treat me to drinks since he got a new promotion,” satoru lies right back, but you see right through it.

“really? good for him,” you compliment his friend, able to work yourself up a little more to keep a straight face in front of your husband.

satoru couldn’t tell yet, but your heart cracked each time you looked at him. you wanted to slap the man to the ground and interrogate him as to why he’s sleeping around – but you only had evidence you saw with your own eyes. you figured he would most likely try to flip things around if you accused him of cheating and pin the blame on actions of your own that didn’t exist.

so, you make the noble decision to keep quiet about your knowledge for now.

days pass, the scene of your husband and the other woman slowly ate away at you, it chipped at the loving wife persona you displayed for satoru, more and more with each hour that came and went. your husband’s usual upbeat personality remained the same, and you tried your hardest to match it, continuing to kiss and be intimate with the man as much as he wanted.

but as time grew, your feelings slowly started to show. you couldn’t help it – who could help it? – being cheated on tears away someone’s entire confidence and demeanor. for years, satoru had feigned innocence and loyalty, he was a perfect husband to you, but maybe he was too perfect for someone like you.

he was his family’s most prized heir, and you were just some girl that got lucky enough to marry him, by some chance of fate. you hated the fact that you realized all you were to him was some … possession, someone there for convenience and convenience alone.

“what’s got you down in the dumps, hmm?” satoru teases as he pokes at your shoulder. you’re laid with your back facing him, trying to fall asleep after a long, emotionally painful night of sex.

you don’t reply at first, you just roll over a little more so he can’t see your sad face, curling into yourself at his touch. there was never going to be a perfect time for you to confront the man. but all the painful feelings you’d been holding on to for weeks at this point get the best of you, and a tear makes its way out of your eye and onto the silk sheets below.

“satoru,” you peep, barely audible as you continue to face away from your husband.

“hmm, honey?” he hums, so effortlessly faking a kind tone.

“who’s that girl?” you question, “i saw her here when i came home.”

“oh,” satoru replies, and you can feel his weight shift next to you so he’s laying on his back.

silence falls over the room, you wait on a reply that satoru refuses to give you for multiple minutes. he lays there, contemplating a lie, or whether or not he should come clean.

it’s not like you’d leave him, anyway.

“i’ve been dating her for a few months now,” satoru tells you, his voice no longer sweet or caring, just plainly spitting out the words you didn’t want to hear from him, ever. the tone in his voice upsets you even greater, he doesn’t even try to deny it, which causes an even greater pain to expand inside of you.

satoru’s new indifference to your feelings hurts a lot more than you’d ever imagined. you tried to psych yourself up, telling yourself that it was okay, you’d be happy if he just lied to you about the whole situation and you’d never bring it up again. his honesty is excruciating, it causes your heart to finally shatter into a million pieces when he confesses everything so guilt-free.

“why…?” you whimper, still unable to gain any of the forged confidence you had for weeks before to look him in the eyes again. you couldn’t stand to look at those beautiful blue eyes you’d fallen so deeply in love with over time, because you knew all they’d do is glare back at you unimpressed.

“well,” satoru starts, “what did you expect? this whole marriage was a fluke, anyway,” he mutters, still too honest for you to be able to feel any comfort in his words.

satoru doesn’t care, though, he never really cared, it’s all so agonizingly obvious to you now.

what did you expect?

you knew what you expected from this marriage, you treated satoru with the utmost care, even if it was a situation you were both forced into. you expected him to stay true to his vows, to be there in all the rough patches, and he was, only until it comes to your attention he wasn’t.

the sweet, considerate, thoughtful husband you once knew disappeared in the matter of a few minutes. all that remained of him now was a hard shell of what he was.

you decide to not reply to satoru anymore, to save yourself from anymore heartbreak – as if you had any left for him to smash into a billion pieces. the only actions you take are to curl up into an even smaller ball and allow the flood gates to open – you begin to coat the soft sheets in your salty tears. satoru only groans at your crying, like it was such a burden he broke your heart, as if he’s not the one to blame for everything going downhill.

the bed sinks in as satoru stands up, sighing. his footsteps shuffle behind you, you hear his keys jingle and his shoes scuff against the floor as he puts them on. you see him walk over to your dresser – the one he made for you with a huge mirror years ago – and check his reflection to fix his hair. soon after, he walks over to you and plants a meaningless kiss to your temple.

“i’m going to go see my girlfriend now,” the utterance of the word “girlfriend” makes you squeeze your eyes shut, “if you want a divorce, let me know so i can get a lawyer.”

satoru walks away and grabs his coat on the dresser, giving himself another good look in the mirror before walking over to the bedroom door.

“bye, honey.”

he leaves behind a broken wife, who’s too beautiful inside and out for her own good. he knows you won’t really leave him; the suggestion of a divorce was to only get a reaction out of you, he was bored the instant you had no rebuttal.

you only continue to cry into the night, falling asleep alone, the only thing to accompany you is the fact your marriage was a lie. satoru will come back, but things will never be the same.

[botanical-garden-system]

Some of the people I have seen say they have non-disordered plurality have a lot of extreme dissociative symptoms from what they post. System conflicts, huge memory gaps, inability to control switches, extreme depersonalization/derealization symptoms.

This is not to deny someone’s experience, but more of a gentle reminder that if your experiences with plurality causes genuine distress? You may want to learn more about how dissociative disorders impact functions.

I don’t really understand any labels outside of traumagenic and maybe endogenic. I can’t even begin to really wrap my head around plurality not causing dissociation—it’s just not my experience at all. It’s a big reason why I decline arguing in any debates, but I have a pretty good idea of how my DID has impacted me.

I will feel like shit and not understand why because my emotions are highly fragmented. There could be something wrong, I could feel it occasionally, but I have no clue at all why I am experiencing this level of distress.

I know of a major traumatic experience in my childhood that could have caused my DID, but I genuinely remember little to nothing about my life and the factors are endless. When I do find stuff talking about my experiences, it sets me back and almost “triggers me” back into a state where I was during that time (I have no recollection still even after these triggers happen).

Skills and knowledge are somewhat distinctive between parts. Some parts have had full blown meltdowns because they didn’t understand an assignment, and when someone else switched in, they knew exactly what to do.

“Wishing to be a system” played a huge part in my formation, but it wasn’t wishing to be a system. It was wishing I had someone to talk to/had friends surrounding me because I was emotionally neglected as a child—this was around ages 6-10, so this thought process had a lot of impacts. I verbally talked to these parts and they often knew information I never remembered learning, and they often came around the most when I was lonely.

I don’t have a stable identity, and I haven’t had one for the entirety of my life. If I try to sit and think about it, my head will turn to TV static and shut off any chance of understanding my situation. I spend about 80-90% of my time going through the motions of life without any acknowledgment of my identity, thoughts, feelings, sensations, or perceptions in life.

Trauma doesn’t have to be a serious case of SA or physical abuse, it is possible it could be years of emotional neglect causing you to turn inward. Bullying, oppression, poverty, disability, physical illness, messy divorces/parents NOT divorcing, war, and many other issues are extremely taxing on a child.

This disorder is covert and nearly undetectable in most cases. Sometimes this means that it’s nearly impossible to see in ourselves. The whole point is to hide and make sure we “function” correctly in society, even at the expense of ourselves. It’s a coping mechanism our brain decided was the safest route to survive.

Identity disruptions, memory gaps, and all these things are not stable, concrete experiences. They are fluid. They can be wildly inconsistent, and you don’t have to be on the far end of the spectrum to experience these issues.

I’m not saying this as a genuine diagnosis of “You MUST have DID” because there are many different aspects that could impact this. I know that there are also like- labels that encompass different aspects that include trauma. However, this is just something I have noticed while scrolling through tumblr recently. This also isn’t targeted in any way, but if it resonates with you, I think learning about DID in medical contexts isn’t a bad idea (or at least learning of dissociation).

I have seen that a big reason many people get nervous to interact with traumagenic spaces is because of how aggressive and toxic they can be, which I understand is definitely a problem we see. It’s definitely a product of how DID is and what societal hatred does to marginalized communities. I take a very chilled and laid back approach to pretty much anything, so if you feel too scared to interact with the traumagenic community, I don’t mind trying to help!

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [28] - Doubts

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: An heir has many responsibilities.

Word Count: 2200

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

When the haze of sleep pulled off your body like a calm wave, you took a deep breath and snuggled deeper into the covers but before you could fall into the warm embrace of sleep again, your eyes snapped open.

Oh, damn it.

You were naked and—

Last night had actually happened.

You had slept with Bucky.

You muttered a curse under your breath, your ears perking up at the sound of the shower running and you sat up, your muscles sore in the most pleasant way. You bit inside your cheek and pushed yourself off the bed, then put your underwear on in a hurry before grabbing the nearest oversized shirt to put it on as well.

“Alright,” you muttered to yourself, licking your lips. “It happens, it’s fine.”

You stole a look at the bathroom door and made your way downstairs, your heart pacing in your chest. You switched the coffee maker on and perched on the stool by the kitchen island, letting out a breath.

Fine, maybe Bucky was much, much better in bed than you had thought, but that didn’t mean—

It wasn’t going to change anything. It couldn’t.

You let out a groan, burying your face into your hands and you had no idea how many minutes you stayed like that but the footsteps going down the stairs made you raise your head again, your breath hitching in your throat.

“Hey babe,” Bucky smirked at you and came closer to kiss you on top of your head, your heart skipping a beat as he did. He made his way to the coffeemaker to fill himself a cup of coffee and you swallowed thickly, then sat up straighter.

“Bucky?”

“Hm?”

“We need to talk about last night.”

He turned to you, leaning back to the counter and you couldn’t help but notice just how handsome he was, holding back your sigh of admiration before you licked your lips.

“Things sort of got out of hand,” you admitted, making him smirk again. “But I think we both agree that it shouldn’t—it cannot happen again.”

He raised his brows as if he was amused, but didn’t comment on it.

“I mean this whole thing is a business deal,” you added hurriedly. “And as I said, last night was fun—very fun but you know, I have principles.”

He tilted his head, his smirk widening.

“Do your principles give you four orgasms in one night?”

“That’s not—it doesn’t—” you stammered, a fire spreading over your face. “It was three and a half.”

“It was only half because you fainted, princess.”

You gasped. “I didn’t faint!”

“And we kept going when you woke up again so if anything, it was four and a half—”

“I’m not going to argue about math!” you said, flailing your hands. “Whatever happened—”

“Four and a half orgasms happened,” he corrected you helpfully and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why do I get the feeling that you enjoy this?”

“Almost as much as you enjoyed last night,” he pointed out with a wink and you rolled your eyes.

“Are you done?”

“Not even close,” he said, grinning and you huffed out.

“It’s not happening again,” you told him. “This is a business deal.”

“I mean, last night proved otherwise—”

“Who hasn’t fucked a business partner at some point?” you defended yourself. “It happens, we move on.”

“Charm.”

“What?”

“I guess you’re going to pretend you weren’t jealous either—”

“I wasn’t jealous!” you cut him off. “I don’t give a fuck who you fuck.”

“Uh huh.”

“But if you are fucking her, I will divorce you,” you insisted and he shot you a reprimanding look.

“I’m not fucking her.”

“Great, see?” you said, trying to hold back your satisfied smile. “The therapist would be proud, we’re having clear communication. You’re not fucking her and we’re never going to sleep with each other ever again.”

He raised his brows.

“I give you a day or two sweetheart,” he said, that proud grin curling his lips. “Before you come begging.”

Your jaw dropped and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You’ll be the one who comes begging,” you told him and he let out a chuckle, then downed his coffee.

“We’ll see about that,” he said and grabbed his jacket, then walked out of the apartment. You groaned and threw your head back before turning your glances to Alpine who meowed at you.

“Too much ego, that one,” you muttered and pushed your chair back, then made your way to the fridge.

                                                *

Fine, alright, maybe talking to Becca and Sarah about it wasn’t going to be the easiest thing.

Especially Becca. You had a feeling Sarah was going to have o much fun with it.

“So,” Becca said as she placed the coffee cups in front of you and Sarah. “How’s everything?”

“Before we start,” you said, licking your lips. “I would like to remind you both that we’re in public so like…let’s keep that in mind.”

Sarah and Becca exchanged glances, then turned to you at the same time.

“Oh no,” Sarah said. “What did you do?”

You took a huge sip of your coffee, then heaved a sigh.

“I really should’ve insisted on meeting at a bar or something.”

“What did you do?” Becca asked and you licked your lips.

“I kind of um…” you motioned at her. “I had sex with your brother.”

Sarah’s jaw dropped while a look of complete terror flashed over Becca’s face before she grimaced.

“Bucky!?”

“Do you have another brother I don’t know about?” you asked back, shifting your weight. “Yeah, I had sex with Bucky—”

“Ew!” Becca said, grabbing at Sarah’s arm for emotional support. “Ew I never want to hear that sentence ever again—Sarah, make her stop!”

“What happened to ‘this is just a business deal’?” Sarah asked you with a knowing smile and you scoffed.

“It’s still just a business deal,” you said. “People fuck their business partners all the time.”

“Not really.”

“They do it figuratively!”

“And you decided to do it literally?”

“I didn’t decide—it was kind of a heat of the moment thing!” you said, ignoring Becca’s disgusted whine which was getting louder and louder. “And we didn’t even—Becca, grow up!”

“I am being traumatized as we speak!”

 “You’ll be fine,” Sarah said and you heaved a sigh.

“It was just a one-night stand.”

“Uh huh. You’ve had a one-night stand with your husband?”

“Him being my husband is just a detail.”

“A pretty crucial detail.”

“A detail nonetheless.”

Becca ran a hand over her face.

“So what, does this mean you two are together together now?”

“No!” you defended yourself. “Are you listening? I said it was a one-night stand.”

“You can’t have one-night stand with a person whom you live with,” Becca pointed out and you rolled your eyes.

“Not with that attitude you can’t.”

“What does Bucky think about this?” Sarah asked and you pursed your lips.

“For some reason, he’s convinced that I’ll be running to his arms after last night,” you said. “Nonsense, obviously. If anyone is going to be running to anyone, it won’t be me.”

“Right.”

“Fuck his ego and fuck him, honestly.”

“Didn’t you do that already?” Sarah asked and Becca let out another whine.

“I’m like two seconds away from leaving this table.”

“Yeah let’s change the subject!” you said. “What is this I hear about Winnifred wanting to meet Leila?”

“Universe is just out to get to me nowadays,” Becca said, pouting. “First my mother wants to meet the love of my life, and then my best friend sleeps with my brother.”

“I’m sorry,” you said with a small grin after winking at Sarah. “Would I trip to Tiffany’s make you feel better?”

Becca’s face immediately lit up.

“It would actually,” she said. “Buying me jewelry is the least you can do after sleeping with my brother.”

                                               *

 You, Becca and Sarah shopped until the sky turned dark. After having dinner together, they both went home and you decided that since you were already at your father’s territory, you could pay him a visit. After checking in with his assistant, you told your driver to take you to the company but the minute you stepped out of the car, you saw people rushing around.

“What the…” you murmured and your phone started vibrating in your purse. You pulled it out, your stomach doing a happy flip as you saw Bucky’s name and you took it to your ear.

“Hey,” you said. “What’s going on?”

“Where are you?”

“Literally at the door to my dad’s company.”

“Good,” he said. “Just stay there until I get there, okay sweetheart?”

“Why?” you asked and he cleared his throat.

“There was uh…well, apparently Ian fucked up.”

Though the smugness in his voice was carefully hidden, it was still obvious to you and you figured he was with other people so you had to bite back your smile.

“Oh?”

“We all had some uninvited guests and as it turns out, Ian accidentally invited them, I’ll give you the details later on,” he said. “I’ll be there as soon as my meeting is over, alright?”

“Sure,” you said. “I’ll talk to you when you get here then.”

“Sounds good,” he said and hung up. You licked your lips and threw your shoulders back, then made your way into the building. After taking the elevator, you stepped out into the hall that led to your father’s office, your father’s men and some of Ian’s bodyguards waiting there. You smiled at Ryan who smiled back at you, but you both turned your heads when your father’s voice boomed through the hallway.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!”

Your father’s assistant rushed to you, holding a phone in her fist.

“Um, Mr. Stark is on the line but I don’t think he wants to be interrupted?”

“No worries, I got it,” you assured her, approaching the half open door and heard Ian’s voice.

“Uncle—”

“Do you know how much money you cost me? Not just me, but all the other bosses?!”

“The new route was supposed to keep the cops away—”

“Everyone fucking knows that route is too dangerous!” His loud voice made you flinch, making you grimace. “Instead, you let them raid the whole shipment! I thought you were ready for this—Y/N could do it with her eyes closed but you? Do I have to hold your hand through every fucking business decision?!”

You pursed your lips so as not to smirk, then took a deep breath and knocked on the doorframe, making them both turn to you.

“Stark is on the line for you,” you told your father and he gritted his teeth, then stormed out of the office, walking past you without sparing you a glance. You clicked your tongue, clasping your hands behind you as you walked into the room.

“Hard day at the office huh?” you asked Ian who narrowed his eyes at you.

“Don’t look so hopeful,” he said. “You’re still his little girl in his eyes, not the future boss.”

You could feel the anger boiling inside you but you managed to smile at him.

“You know…” you muttered. “Fucking up once is normal, everyone does that, but twice? A raid, Ian? Seriously, how many millions in total did that cost father? Not to mention the other families?”

 He clenched his jaw and ran a hand over his face.

“Careful. You look way too happy about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be happy?” you asked with a laugh. “I have no horse in this race and it is quite entertaining to be honest.”

“Your man just lost a million as well, and you’re entertained by that?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “What do you want me to do? Give you pointers so that you don’t mess up again?”

He licked his lips and pushed himself off the desk he was leaning against, keeping his eyes on you.

“It was unexpected,” he said. “That first attack.”

“Not really, the whole city is basically on fire nowadays. You should’ve expected an attack and instead, you let one shipment get attacked and the other get raided by the cops,” you tut tutted. “Should be more careful, Ian.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “I mean we still haven’t found the person responsible for the first attack but we will. And when we do, and if it is someone in the business…” he trailed off. “Well, that would start a war, wouldn’t it? Because that means they not only went against me, but the whole family.”

Your stomach did a painful flip but you only raised a brow.

“And it’s the heir’s responsibility to prove themselves especially in times like these,” he said. “Against any attack, so trust me, when I find those people…There will be no mercy.”

The veiled threat wasn’t lost on you but you smiled calmly.

“You’re right,” you told him. “In times like these, people should see who’s capable of being the boss and who’s not. So I agree. There will be no mercy.”  

He stared at you, fully aware of the threat you had just thrown his way but then shook his head.

“Ryan!” he snapped as he walked past you and you let out a giggle, then heaved a sigh and threw yourself on the sofa, flipping your phone in your hand.

“Well,” you muttered. “Tonight is going to be fun.”

Chapter 29

[redrose10]

A rare non Yoongi centered writing (he does make an appearance because I can’t help myself). This is a part 2 to this one I was supposed to write a long time ago and just now got it finished.

Namjoon x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, divorce

Word count: 1,722

🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼

Divorce was never something you had in the plan for your future. Things happen unfortunately and there wasn’t anything you could do about it. Of course there were nights that you laid awake in bed reliving your marriage over and over wondering if maybe there was something you could have done differently to stop Namjoon from falling out of love with you. Could you have smiled more? Cooked more meals at home? Been more experimental in the bedroom? Maybe you just should have told him you loved him more often?

Maybe if you had done one of those things or even more then you wouldn’t be alone sitting on the floor of your sons nursery crying as you tried to put together the rocking chair you purchased a week ago. It was supposed to be easy to build, but no matter what you did you just could not get the parts to fit right.

After staring at the directions for a little while longer you decided you needed a break. With a loud groan you slowly got yourself off of the floor and gently patted your bump thankful that the baby would be here in a few weeks. You weren’t sure how you could grow any bigger and still function properly.

You were on your way to pick up dinner when you saw a cute little baby boutique not too far from your place. You might not know much about building furniture but you could definitely pick out some more cute outfits for your little one so you decided to enter the store.

“When were you going to tell him?”, a deep voice spoke next to you. You jumped slightly before realizing that it was Yoongi. You hadn’t seen him since before the divorce.

You continued to browse through the onesies hoping he would just go away, but he was persistent.

“Y/N…”

“Bold of you to assume I’m pregnant with his baby.”, you spat, “Maybe I moved on too. Hmm? Ever think about that?”

He put his hands up in defense, “You’re right. I apologize. But… I also know that you loved Namjoon more than anything and wouldn’t have been able to move on that quickly and with the timing of everything it just seemed right...”

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself you nodded, “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay.”, he chuckled, “I seem to be getting my head chewed off by pregnant women all the time these days any ways so I’m used to it.”

You turned to look at him with wide eyes”, Oh my god! You and Sana?!”

He nodded with a big gummy smile, “Yeah a little girl.”

“Aww congratulations!”, you hugged him tightly. You were genuinely happy for the two of them.

“Soooo back to this little situation.”, he said pointing at your bump, “Y/N you really should tell him. He deserves to know.”

You scoffed at his words. You weren’t necessarily mad at Namjoon. You didn’t hate him or anything and didn’t want to spite him. He followed his heart and was open and honest with you and you believed him that he never cheated, but you wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t sting a little and leave a bitter taste in your mouth some times.

“Why should I tell him? What can he do that I can’t for this baby? I don’t want it to seem like I’m trying to get him back or trap him or anything. I think…maybe it’s best if he just never knows.”

Yoongi took in a deep breath, “Look, it’s not my place to tell you how to live your life or get involved. I can only imagine how hurt you are by all of this. But this is more than just about you and Namjoon. There is a little baby coming that deserves to have their father in their life.“

It killed you because you knew Yoongi had a major point with that one. It was something you struggled with since the beginning of this whole ordeal and it often got you worked up.

“But what if…”, you sniffled, “What if I do tell him and he doesn’t care? What if he just gets mad?”

Yoongi grabbed onto your shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze, “I highly doubt that will be the case, but you’ll never know until you do it.”

“Okay.”, you smiled. “Oh hey by the way…do you know how to put together a rocking chair?”, you questioned as he was starting to walk away.

“Yeah. I’m going out of town for a little, but I know a guy. I’ll send him over.”, he said with a wink. You should’ve known.

“So much for not getting involved.”, you grumbled to yourself and made a mental note to give Yoongi a piece of your mind next time you saw him.

“So he wasn’t lying.”, was all Namjoon could say as he took in your form. You invited him in to have a seat.

There was a lot of nervous tension in the air between you both. Since your encounter with Yoongi a few days ago you had been working on a way to tell Namjoon everything, you didn’t expect to have to be ready so soon.

“Y/N…I….”, he began slowly. Clearly thinking of the best way to go about this. “I’m sorry.”, he chuckled, “I’ll admit I’m not quite prepared for this conversation. I came over here fully believing Yoongi was just fucking with me. I…when did you find out?”

“A few days after you told me about her.”, you whispered.

You could tell he was getting angry. You watched as he chewed on his inner cheek, a habit of his to try and keep himself calm. “Why didn’t you tell me Y/N? Were you just going to hide this from me forever?”, he asked.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t want you think that I was only telling you that I was pregnant to try and make you stay with me. I kept saying I would tell you and then one month turned into two. And then I ran into Yoongi. And just I don’t know Joonie. Everything happened so fast and there were so many changes and I didn’t know what to do.” A few sniffles escaped you as you tried your best to stay composed.

“Hey hey hey it’s okay. Please don’t cry. Please.”, he said scooting a little bit closer to you so that he could rub your back, “I’m sorry I got upset. I just…I guess it hurt that even after all of our years together you didn’t think that you could trust me enough to be there for both of you.”

“Namjoon, we’re divorced. You moved on to someone else. How could I be certain that you would be there?”

“I know.”, he nodded, “But Y/N just because I fell in love with someone else doesn’t mean I completely stopped loving you. Yes I love you in a different way now, but you will always be an important part of my life. You and our baby will always have me no matter what else is going on. You never have to worry about that. We’ll figure it out as we go. This chapter of our life is new to both of us.”

For a while you just sat there crying into his shoulder. It was warm and comforting although in a different way than it used to be.

“Is…is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need? I’ll help in any way I can.”, he finally spoke up after it seemed that your cries were dying down.

“Do you want me to make you a chocolate cake with pickle and garlic cream cheese frosting?”, he asked.

“Eww! What?!”

“I…I don’t know. Yoongi said he has to make it for Sana all the time. I thought maybe it was a pregnant woman thing.”, he shrugged.

“No.”, you laughed, “I’m good. Plus I don’t want you anywhere near my kitchen. Your kitchen mishaps are no longer my responsibility.”

Both of you laughed as he nodded his head in agreement.

“Actually…there is one thing.”, you said motioning for him to follow you.

“I’ve been trying all week to put this thing together.”, you said pointing at the half built rocking chair, “Do you think you can finish it for me?”

A few hours and many curse words later the two of you stood back to admire the newly built chair. The pretty pastel blue cushions looked soft and fluffy just like you wanted.

You went to try it out, but Namjoon quickly a stopped you, “I should be the first to try it. You know…just in case.”

You nodded and stepped out of the way realizing he had a point.

He took a seat reveling in the comfiness. It only took a few seconds for there to be a very loud distinct cracking noise and next thing you knew Namjoon was laying on the ground on top of a pile of boards and screws that had been your rocking chair just a few short moments ago. It took all of your strength to stifle a laugh as you watched him stare at the ceiling and rethink everything.

Finally after a few minutes he pulled out his phone.

“Who are you calling?”, you asked confused.

“Yoongi.“

The phone only rang for a couple of seconds like he had been waiting for the call.

“Yep.

Mmhmm.

I sure did.

Yep.

Okay thanks Hyung.”, he said putting his phone back in his pocket, “Yoongi said he’ll be right up.”

You followed Namjoon into the living room, “He said he was going out of town.”

“Nope.”, Namjoon shook his head, “He lied. He’s been waiting down in the car. He knew you would ask me to build the rocking chair and he also knew that even though I would do my best I would end up breaking something so he is on his way up here with his tool box to put it together.”

Laughing as you went to get some drinks you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief. Life may not have turned out exactly how you planned, but you were now looking forward to seeing how it came together in the future.

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

Rebuild & Restore - Chapter 16

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

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All OC Characters belong to me

All Falls Down (Prequel)

Series Masterlist

Dr Anderson stared at the couple in front of him. It was blatantly obvious that something had changed with their relationship. The last time they were here, Dr. Anderson was sure they would get a divorce and probably never speak to each other again. But this time around, they sat close together, Josh’s arm was wrapped around Kiyana’s shoulder and she was leaning into his side. 

Dr. Anderson’s eyebrows shot up when Josh turned his head slightly to place a sweet and gentle kiss on Kiyana’s temple. “So, things have changed?” Dr. Anderson spoke after clearing his throat, getting the attention of the couple in front of him. 

Kiyana and Josh, looked at each other, soft smiles on their faces and Kiyanna nodded. “Yeah.” She smiled and turned her head back towards Dr. Anderson. “You could say that.” 

“Honestly, that’s great to hear.” Dr. Anderson grabbed his notebook off the little end table beside him and opened it. “What happened since the last time I saw you guys a couple of months ago?” 

Josh sat up straighter and blew out a deep sigh. “Where do I start?” He chuckled. “We uh- actually did get divorced, about a month or two ago.” 

“Really? How did you feel about that?” Dr. Anderson asked Kiyana, who shrugged. 

“I mean, I was the one who initiated it. I filed. Things were becoming too much. There was no more trust in the relationship.” 

“And now? Is there trust now.” 

“I trust her,” Josh answered almost immediately. He then turned his attention towards Kiyana “Do you trust me?” 

Kiyana hesitated and Josh sucked in a deep breath. He knew she didn’t 100% trust him and that was fine. Like he told her before, he would do whatever it took to get her to trust him again, he just didn’t know where to start. 

“And how do you feel about this?” Dr Anderson asked Josh. 

“It’s not a shock, to be honest. I uh- I figured she didn’t trust me yet and I wanna earn her trust back.” Dr. Anderson nodded thoughtfully, jotting down notes as he listened. 

“Can I ask why you don’t fully trust him yet?” 

Kiyana bit her lip as she looked up at Josh.  “I’m not gon be mad baby. We here to get the help we need.” 

Kiyana nodded, before taking a deep breath. “I guess because he’s still on the road with his job a lot and if the infidelity happened before what’s to same he won’t have that same temptation again. And he’s in this story or whatever with his co-worker and” Kiyana stopped and shook her head. “I just don't wanna go through that again.” 

“I’ll tell them I can’t do it anymore.” Josh started, Kiyana started shaking her head but Josh stopped her, grabbing her chin and making her look into his eyes. “If that shit makes you uncomfortable. I will stop it. I meant it when I said I want this Kiyana.” 

Dr. Anderson tried to hide his smile but he couldn’t. He knew Josh was telling the whole truth. He never routed for a couple this hard before. 

Kiyana looked into Josh’s eyes, searching for sincerity. “I just need to know you’re serious about making this work. I can’t go through that pain again.”

“I promise you, I’m  serious,” Josh replied, his voice steady.”I already lost you once and I don’t wanna lose you again.” 

Dr. Anderson watched the exchange, sensing the emotional weight in the room. “Kiyana, what would help you feel more secure in this process? Is there something specific that would reassure you?” Josh let go of Key’s face as she turned her head to look at Dr. Anderson. 

Kiyana hesitated, then took a deep breath. “I think regular check-ins would be a good start.” She paused and looked back over to Josh. “You said last time, you just wanted someone to talk to. Let me be that someone. If I do something to piss you off, come talk to me not no other bitch and I’ll do the same.”

“Okay.” Josh agreed. His heart painfully clenched in his chest as he thought about how much his actions really hurt Kiyana. “If somethin’  bothering me, I’ll come to you..” Kiyana nodded with a small smile on her face.  

Hopefully, this time around things would be different.

“Yo Key!” Kiyana jumped, startled at Josh calling her name. She cursed as she dropped the test to the floor. She then gasped as the door to the bathroom opened and Josh stood there wearing a confused face. “You good in here?” 

Kiyana was slightly panicking, trying not to look down at the test. “Damn Josh. I could’ve been taking a shit.” 

“Key, be so fo–  I done licked every crevice of your body. Stop playing with me.” His eyes then flicked down to the test on the floor. “Is that–” 

“Yeah,” Kiyana whispered, looking at him trying to gauge his reaction. 

“Are you..?” He trailed off walking closer to her. 

“I haven’t looked.” She bit her lip as Josh reached down and picked the test up. She held her breath as he turned it over and looked at the results. 

“We gon need a bigger house.” 

Kiyana's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest. "What? Are you serious?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Josh nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Two lines, baby. Damn, four kids. We catching up to Joe.” 

For a moment, Kiyana stood frozen, a whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. Then, without warning, she launched herself at Josh, wrapping her arms around his neck. He caught her easily. “Oh shit.” She whispered.

Josh held her tight, his strong arms encircling her waist. "You happy about this?" he asked, his voice soft against her ear.

Kiyana pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face. "I... I think so. Are you?"

"Hell yeah," Josh grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Another little one running around? That's dope.” Kiyana nodded and looked down at her obviously still flat tummy. “Hey,” Josh calle dout softly cupping her cheeks in his hand. “I love you. And Imma be here. I promise. Imma be here for you and our kids.” 

Kiyana grinned, her tears finally escaping her eyes. “I love you too.” 

Whew.. .why did this take me so long... chile who know! But look at haw far this couple has came!

One more chapter left 🥹

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[irregularcollapse]

these eyes are mine

This one is all for you, @angelfruittree <3

I wrote before you say 'cut', wait five more seconds as a love-letter to film and actors and the craft of filmmaking, and it involved a lot of spitballing and brainstorming and yapping with Sailor. There is a heap of big, sprawling actors AU lore that hasn't quite made it into a fic yet, but one of the things that did make it into a fic (albeit just a little b-side thing) was Cathy Moon, Gale's actor mom and role model.

When we were talking about Cathy Moon, Sailor shared the Simon Stephens translation of Chekov's The Seagull with me, and we built up this whole thing about Cathy being obsessed with The Seagull and playing Nina when she was younger, but appearing as Irina Arkadina when she was older, and that being a production which Gale takes John to as a means of introducing them. I wanted to include this scenario in a longer fic, but that may be a long way off.

Anyway, along the journey of it all, Cate Blanchett became the vision for Cathy Moon (which happened before I realised that she and that blond bloke actually know each other). Then sometime last year, it was announced that Cate was cast as Arkadina in The Seagull at the Barbican. And then the other day, that blond bloke actually went to see her play Arkadina in The Seagull at the Barbican. It's a weird bunch of coincidences. I wanted to write the scene. Here it is!

---

They’re invited to the green room by a theater manager who finds them during intermission: Gale goes to piss and to get drinks from the bar (beer for John and a Coke for himself), and John stays in his seat with his head ducked into his phone. There had been a couple requests for selfies, before the show. Gale had been the cameraman for one, raising an eyebrow at John as he counted down to pressing the button. When he comes back with refreshments in hand, the entry to the aisle is being blocked by a woman with a headset wearing hospitality black tie, and John is smiling and nodding through the charming ease he slips on in public.

“How come you were comped, but it’s me who gets the backstage pass?” he asks when Gale hands him him his beer before sitting, and Gale buries any helpful reply in a grunt. He hasn’t figured out the words yet. There has been an unsettled tick and flutter in his diaphragm since they got into the car. Since he asked John to come with him, in truth. John’s legs spread and his knee knocks into Gale’s, necessity of folding his frame into these cramped theater seats—but deliberate too, with the way John chases the nudge with a clap and rub to Gale’s thigh, the most he ever does in public. The touches are fleeting, pats and strokes and cupping innocuous places, easy contact not so divorced from how he would touch Gale before all this.

It hasn’t come up in conversation, even after Vancouver and everything since, and now John has come to New Orleans because Gale is in New Orleans, and Gale hasn’t figured out the words yet. This is John Egan. He’s my—what, exactly? Something that means they don’t touch in public in any way that can’t be passed off as John just being tactile. Gale sips his Coke, and lifts the Playbill from John’s pinched fingers. The bells are ringing for the audience to return to their seats.

—

John’s laugh rings through the room, above the chatter of the gathered numbers of cast and crew who have gotten word that a Golden Globe Winner and certified A-Lister has come to see them tread the boards. Gale is trying to blend, to give space to John’s glad-handing, checking his phone and hoping that his I’m in the green room text is seen sooner rather than later. There’s no double tick next to the message. There’s nothing at all.

“Galey!”

Not necessarily louder than the babbling, but clearer and directed, the call melts the furrow in Gale’s brow to a settled smile as he looks up, pocketing his phone to be ready. Cathy doesn’t part the crowd, but slips through it smooth as a dance, and waltzes right into his arms with a detour to kiss his cheek. She smells mostly like cedar and jasmine, and a little like IPA, and crushes him into a hug that comes with a satisfied hum. As she pulls back, she’s smiling with gently-curving lips and a clean face under her glasses, and she says, “God, just look at you!” before kissing his cheek again. He knows he’s grinning, as she reaches for his hand and lifts it up to kiss as well, then clasping it between both of hers as she steps back and appraises him.

“It was amazing,” Gale says, meaning it. The standing ovation had come unavoidably, as seeing her up on stage had filled him up with such a giddy pride he couldn’t stay seated. “Best Arkadina I’ve ever seen.” She scoffs lowly and rolls her eyes, but the warmth in her face blooms a little. The warmth in Gale’s chest blooms as well.

“It felt good tonight; I’m so glad you came to this one. Between you and me, some of the scenes with our Konstantin haven’t quite been clicking—he was a recast, missed out on the workshops, not his fault—but there was an energy, wasn’t there? I think we hit our stride.” She’s leaning in, a tad conspiratorial, the way they often talk, and Gale is nodding and starting to say, “I thought there was—” when a hand claps down on his shoulder.

“There you are.” John’s broad palm tracks a path to Gale’s spine, then down the length of it, and rests for a moment at the small of his back in the time it takes to follow up with, “You ready to go?” He’s smiling all toothy between Gale, and Cathy, and their joined hands.

“Almost,” Gale says. “John, this is Cathy.”

“John Egan,” he affirms, and offers Cathy a handshake. She passes Gale a significant look, likely too quick for John to catch, and Gale is forced into stifling a snort. “You were incredible, by the way. Really shook me up; that argument with Boris? This face is mine, these eyes are mine? Broke my fuckin’ heart. ‘Scuse my French.” Cathy makes a delighted trill of a noise, and says, “Well,” but John is still going. “Buck wouldn’t tell me where the comps came from, but I guess I’m thanking you. How d’you know each other?” His touch taps at Gale’s waist again, just as brief as the new raised brow that Cathy sends to him.

“I’m Gale’s mom,” she explains, breezy and factual, and John says, “Oh.”

“You want to grab your stuff, and we’ll meet you at the stage door? We goin’ to that place you like?”

“It’s the only place that’s decent this time of night. I could absolutely drown in a martini, tell you what. I won’t be more than five—eight, tops,” she amends, already slipping away with a parting squeeze to Gale’s hand. She waggles her fingers at John before turning. “You won’t even miss me.” She disappears with the same smoothness she arrived, and takes with her everything that was holding back the jitter of uncertainty flitting around Gale’s insides.

“So,” John announces, and it hangs between them long enough for Gale to swallow. “Your mom’s hot.” The laugh that cracks from Gale’s throat is almost a bark.

“Shut up.”

“The rest of what I was thinkin’ seems a little inappropriate, now.”

“There’s something wrong with you,” Gale gripes, elbowing him none too gently, but he can’t smooth out the curl at his mouth and it’s eking into his voice, too. “C’mon, we’re goin’ for supper.”

“Is that what this is? I’m meeting your mom?”

“Looks like it.”

—

The restaurant is white tablecloths and open until four a.m., and serves its steak tartare with potato chips, and its martinis with three olives. Cathy asks for four. Under the table, Gale can feel John’s boot resting against his own.

“I first read it, oh, a long time ago now,” Cathy is saying to John, fishing the pick out of her glass and sliding an olive free between her teeth. John is sprawled, elbow on the back of his chair, and captivated. “This one—” she jabs the pick at Gale before settling it neatly back in the glass— “was inhabiting my uterus, making me piss like a goddamn horse, and one of my college friends—I was twenty years old, can you imagine that? Got knocked up, dropped out, all my friends were doing avant garde plays in the quad stoned out of their minds every day—he sent it to me in the post, this beat up little copy of The Seagull that he got given by one of those old decrepit acting teachers, and god, I’d sit on the can and read Chekov and just sob my fucking eyes out.”

“Huh,” John says, eyes lit with something familiar, crinkled and calm. “And you played Nina—?”

“Community theater,” she interjects dryly, and Gale snorts. “Wyoming community theater; I think we played to fifty people total for the whole run. My big break. I took Galey along in his little OshKosh dungarees and the whole crew just adored him. Sat in the front row and watched every rehearsal; that’s when I knew. He’s always had that actor’s soul.”

“Watching Chekov at age…?”

“Four. Before I started school, right?” Gale can feel John’s eyes on him as he scoops up some tartare; hidden by the drape of the tablecloth, he hooks their ankles together.

“His favorite movie was La Strada. He’d watch Guilietta with the biggest eyes, overcome with awe. I’d see him looking at her, thinking away—how’s she doing that? And he was always a little performer. Not loud and brash, never gauche, but I could tell. He knew when people were watching him, and how to make them want to watch.” John hums, and Gale takes a sip of his ginger ale. His face is burning with a low, persistent smoulder, but he can’t rein in the smile. “That’s a face made for celluloid; my biggest achievement, tell you what. Made sure to squeeze out all of Lee’s genes, or he would’ve ended up a truck driver or something. I said, no, god as my witness—my spawn will be on the screen. He will be beautiful if I have anything to say about it.”

John is snickering laughter through most of it, says “Isn’t he just?” and when Gale turns a smirk on him, reaches over their drinks to squeeze Gale’s chin.

“But the talent! No, that’s all you, my love,” Cathy continues, husky around another olive. “All your hard work.” He looks to her and knows his fondness is showing, knows that it’s clear he wouldn’t have her any other way; she clasps a hand over her heart for a moment, and gifts him a neat wink. “And how do your find yourself where you are, John? I’ve had my eye on you—the same thing as with Galey, I thought to myself, This young man’s got it.”

—

Cathy exhales her smoke off to the side, tucking an arm around herself and propping her elbow on her wrist to hold her cigarette aloft. She’s peering at him, letting him be silent while they wait for John to settle the check he insisted on paying, and her mouth makes a familiar motion: Gale bites his toothpick in echo. She nods.

“Hm,” she says.

Gale huffs a laugh. “What?”

“He loves you for sure.” She’s so certain. Gale’s chest doesn’t have any air in it, only heat. He glances through the restaurant window. John is talking with the server, charming ease slipped in place. They haven’t said anything like that to each other yet. Gale looks back to Cathy, mouth all parched, and can only hum. He nods, a little bit. He hasn’t figured out the words, yet.

[bahrtofane]

Promises under the stars - Jude ending

Part 1

Part 1 - Jude pov

Part 2

Long awaited happy ending I TOLD U I WOULD DO IT SEE. pretty plz read part 2 before this i’m begging plz plzlplzpzlzpzlzpzl

—

Word count - 2.2k+

Watch it - MORE DIVORCE WOWOW. Carlos is so mean in this one sorreh.

Guys this feels like the end of an era like I’m so sad to see it end this was a JOURNEY

——-

Things change. As most things do, life moves on.

Jude remains in the back of your mind. After years of working away from the laughs that taunt you in the wind.

It comes back to him.

Your husband takes a back seat and Jude once again becomes the man who’s at the forefront of your mind.

While you’re pregnant with Carlos’s baby you thumb through pictures of Jude. Funny isn’t it. So funny you want to rip your own hair out.

You don’t know if it’s your own behavior that sparks a change but there’s a shift.

After the second altercation with Jude, things change. Carlos does less talking and more observing. He asks you to share your location at all times and you have no qualms. Not at first.

But it begins to get to much.

Where are you going, who are you with. What are you doing. Come home. Do you have to go out. No don’t go. Don’t do this. Don’t do that.

You half think it’s because of the baby and he’s simply worried for the both of you. It’s his fatherly nature kicking in.

But there’s a breaking point and it comes when you come home on a Sunday night.

——

“Hey baby.” You smile, setting down your little shopping spree for the baby. Just a few essentials. Blankets and bottles.

He doesn’t return your greeting. Head down in silence while he stares at the wall.

“Where were you?”

You frown, “not this again-“

“No. You keep going off to places without letting me know first I thought we talked about this.” he hisses.

You lean against the counter. ”I stopped to get a little snack?”

He shrugs. “You could have waited till you got home.”

You scoff. ”i'm pregnant Carlos, most things can't wait. You know how it is.”

”I don’t even know who you are anymore.” He mumbles.

“What did you say?”

He stands, facing you with brows furrowed. “Ever since Jude you keep running off. Are you seeing him?”

”Are you crazy?”

”i dont know look at how you’re acting. I’ve given you everything, and you keep sneaking off.”

”Im pregnant with your child for fucks sake and you think im with another man?”

”I’m not sure if its even my child anymore. Funny how he turned up again when you started to show.”

Your skin bristles. ”I’m going to give you a chance to take it back Carlos or else.”

”or what? You’ll go back to him? Maybe I should go and knock someone else up so you can know what it feels like.” his voice raises to a yell.

That’s just the thing isn’t it. Yo already know what it feels like. You watched it happen with Jude and now he accuses you of the very thing that almost drove you mad.

Tears burn in your eyes. You don't stick around for any more, taking your keys and walking to the door.

“Don’t you dare leave. You leave and you won’t see me ever again do you hear me. “ he screams, finger pointed at you.

You look back for a moment. Gone is the Carlos you love and replaced with this beast that hurls insults and accusations. You walk out, driving away to anywhere, anywhere at all as long as its away from him.

Your second heart break comes from Jude just like the first. Only this time indirectly and crumbles a marriage you once treasured more than anything.

You can't face his family. Certainly not his mother. Not after this.

——-

You go back to your families home. Back in your home town.

It shocks them, how you turn up at their door. You drove the whole way back, just like you did leaving.

Your mother cries for you and you don't have the heart to explain your end in full.

You’re due in about 3 months. And your days and filled with sorrow. You try you best. You know it’s not good for the baby. It’s a girl you find out. Carlos always wanted a girl. You try you really do but things are near impossible on your own.

You get a call from his mother, appolgizes tumbling from her tongue. Pleading with you for forgiveness. She tells you there’s always a spot for you in her home. If you’d like you can move in. They’ll take care of you here.

You thank her between sniffles but you say you don’t know. You just need time.

You’re nearing a breaking point yourself.

——-

Time is running out for you to make sense of things.

You miss Carlos, or well you miss the Carlos you once loved. The man who bought you a home just because he could and he listened to you.

The man who was so sure of loving you.

The only thing he seems sure of is pretending you don’t exist.

Maybe if you would have just taken Jude back when he first came to you

——-

Jude hears. Or course he does.

He promised himself to stop meddling in your life. To stop keeping up with you and just leave you alone. But when news reaches him. A piece of him breaks.

It’s his fault isn’t it. You had a home. A life. A marriage, a husband and very soon a little family.

There he goes again, ruining it.

He finds your contact info and it lays in his phone, u able to bring himself to press call. What buisness does he have in your life anymore truly.

What more can he do, say, feel?

The fields have long burned, only ash and ember in their wake. And still he recognizes them in a heartbeat. He knows you will too. For he knows you.

How can he apologize in a language you’ll understand?

——

You get a call from an unknown number while you leave another appointment. Same old same old, try to relax stress isn’t good for the baby blah blah blah. If you could relax you would but it isn’t that easy isn’t it.

You pick up before looking properly and a familiar voice comes to life. Jude.

He can’t stay away it seems. He can’t leave you on your own.

“I heard what happened. I’m so sorry. If I knew i would have never-“

”its okay Jude.” You sigh. ”its not your fault. He just- changed and it scared me so bad.”

His voice hasn’t changed all that much, just a tad deeper.

You don’t blame him. You’ve forgiven him for everything. There’s a million ways Carlos could have handled things and he chose to blame you for it all. Choose the path of accusation. That is no one’s fault but his own.

“Do you need help?” Timid. Hesitant.

You pause. What else do you have to loose. The very least you need to figure something out for your baby.

You don’t have friends close enough to call up. Not even friends when you think about it. Acquaintances at best.

You consider taking up Carlos’s mother on the offer. Your baby would be well taken care of. Brought up in luxury and comfort. Nothing would ever be more than a stone's throw away.

But you run the risk of seeing him again. And you know if he were to find out it would create a whole other problem.

Your savings will cover 2 years max if you really stretch them out. And you know your parents cant keep you under their roof forever. You do need help. But you don’t know how to ask. How to accept.

He picks up on your silence. “No string attached I promise I just-“ he takes a deep breath, “- I can't do nothing. Not when you’re going through everything that you are. “

”Thank you Jude.” You sniffle. Tears forming in your eyes while you look into the sky.

——-

Jude sends movers to help you move your things into an apartment by the end of the week. All you have to do is get into your car and follow. You need to do something about the car. Its technically under your name. The one he got you as a gift.

You feel so out of lace in it. Maybe you’ll sell it. If not for the money to erase any traces of him for good.

Jude visits you the following week.

He’s grown. Oh how hes grown. A man now. He gives you the spare keys with a small smile. No red ribbon.

“Its set for a years rent and all. No need to worry. I figured you’d want to stay near your family so.”

You give him a hug, unable to stop yourself. Even if your belly makes it awkward he wraps his arms around you. He’s smiling.

“I cant thank you enough.” You’re crying again. Tears pooling in your eyes.

He helps you sit down on the couch, giving you his arm to steady yourself on. “Hey hey. It’s alright. I got you. No need to thank me.”

”why did you come?” you mumble. Hand still on his.

“I think you know the answer to that.” He picks at his pants.

”After all this time you still do?” You still love me?

“I never stoped. I told you as much.”

You nod. “Thank you again anyway.”

”Call me if you need anything. There's a chauffeur I use when I’m in the area. I'll give you his info too. Whatever you go give him a call. Or if you need any shopping done he’ll take care of it.”

”Are you sure?”

He smiles, “more than sure. Go rest now you’ve had a long week.”

———

You only hear from Carlos when he sends the divorce papers. You dont think twice. Signing them and sending them off to his lawyers.

His only request is to see his baby. You refuse at first but his lawyers are firm. So you come to an agreement one weekend at the end of every month. Starting when you recover.

You end up keeping the car.

You want nothing else from him. Just to never see him again. You can’t accept any apology after the way he disrespected you.

You mean it. More than you meant it with Jude.

——

Jude ends up coming to appointments when hes in town. You don’t know how it happens. But he goes. Holding your hand and letting you lean on him every step of the way. You never say no. In a way you need him. In many ways you do.

It’s familiar. Being with Jude. You slip back into old habits and he never corrects you. Just gives you a tight smile.

Every break he spends with you and within an instant the baby comes. Carlos is not allowed anywhere near you. You name her after your favorite flower and give her your last name.

She’s your whole world. You can barely hold back your sobs when they hand her over to you.

Jude drives you home from the hospital and skips pre season training to be with you.

He helps you with her and for a moment it's like this is the ending you always dreamed of. A glimpse of what could have been. If you only ignore that it’s Carlos’s child, you are not with Jude and you’re closer to his pity case than his lover. But you can dream.

——

“She’s crying again.” Jude mumbles, woken up from her cries.

He’s been sleeping on the couch. To make it easier for the both of you.

You groan, picking her up gently and trying to get her back to sleep. Nothing works her cries only get louder and you are on your last straw.

“Jude can you come here.”

He pads to your room, opening the door meekly as you stand with her in your arms. “Can you hold her while I make her bottle please.”

He nods, opening his arms while you gently set her in his arms. She fits in his embrace like she was made for it.

You come back with a bottle to your baby softly sleeping agaisnt his chest. Little cheeks snug agaisnt him while she breaths softly.

You mouth a silent thank you and let him out her back inside her crib. Tucking her under her blanket and giving her a little pat to the head.

You could get used to this.

——

You fall for Jude once more. As your little girl turns one you find a rhythm with him. She even calls him dad. You never correct her. There’s no need. He does all a father would and more.

Carlos drops from her life before she can even walk. You don’t care.

You make the trip to Spain yearly so she can meet her grandparents at the very least. This isn’t their fault. You hold nothing against them. His mother blames herself for her sons actions and you know nothing you say will change it.

Jude retires before he can turn 35. And you marry. Nothing outlandish. Just you and him and your baby at the court house.

You get ice cream on the way home and watch her favorite movies till she falls asleep.

“We made it back to each other in the end. “ He kisses your lips. Soft. Gentle.

You hum, pressing yourself closer against him. “Always you and me.”

The promises you made under the stars have found you after all. In your own home with your baby you love more than anything. Raising her and walking through life hand in hand. Even after everything, you don’t think anyone else would come back for you. Fight for you the way Jude has.

Your peace has come.

[idontplaytrack]

Rejanis request!?! I'm at your service :)

Could you write some angst around Regina finding maybe an old suicide scar or maybe Janis wanting to get a semicolon tattoo? Ofc if that makes you uncomfortable you don't have to write it!

She left that girl at home

Janis ‘Imi’ike x Regina George

Warnings: mature themes. Mentions to suicide, past struggles with mental health. Coarse language, little bit of smut.

“Know a lot of girls

She's not the same

Waist long hair

Hides the pain

And the way she talks

About beauty and change

I still can't believe

What she was up against”

“Hey, Reg? I want to get a new tattoo.”

Regina hummed, “Yeah? What?”

It took Janis a couple of seconds to respond since she was looking in the mirror in front of her to picture where she wanted the new tattoo. “A semicolon.” Janis answered, a soft sigh leaving her lips as she walked over to join Regina on the couch. Regina stopped moving, as though that one word was a big speech that was hard to process.

Janis let out a chuckle at Regina’s concerned expression then nodded, “You know what it means. I got through that part of my life and I’m okay, I’m happier than ever.”

“Was…was it because of…me?”

“A lot of things led up to it. You know how my parents were…fighting all the time. So I was at yours a lot until we fell out. But then I was just home all the time with all the yelling, cursing and swearing, the broken walls and doors and glass. I don’t know, one night…I just lost it. I wanted all that chaos and fear to end, but I had nowhere else to go to. No one else to turn to. You were…my only friend at the time. It felt like it even though I had Karen and Gretchen, because you were the only one I could trust. So…I…attempted.” Janis explained, pushing down the several bracelets on her wrist. Regina looked at it in a whole new light. It was an unspoken fact, how she got those scars on her wrist. But knowing why? Regina’s heart began to hurt.

“It wasn’t because of you, no. It was because somehow, losing my best friend felt like my world came to an end. You gave my life purpose, gave me a safe space. And then shit happened and all that went away without me having any other way to cope.” Janis continued, Regina held onto the brunette’s hands, listening attentively.

“When did that happen?” Regina’s voice was quiet, small. Unheard of for the Apex Predator.

“Like, two, three weeks after I got kicked out of school for lighting your backpack on fire.” Janis replied. A painful lump formed in Reina’s throat. She gulped, eyes glossing over with tears. “I’m okay.” Janis squeezed her hand.

“Anyway, I woke up in the hospital. And my Dad, he uh, I’ve never seen him cry in my life. I saw him sobbing. Then he saw me, awake. He hugged me. I don’t remember him showing me any affection growing up. And as shocked as I was, I needed that hug. Other than for the obvious reason, he also later told me Mom gave him divorce papers to sign. He signed them, we moved out into an apartment after I got released from the psych ward. The last time I saw my mom… was at dinner the night I ended up in the hospital. I don’t know where she went, but I was glad to have her out of my life. She…”

“She was a bitch, I know. You put tinsel in your hair and she freaked the fuck out and cussed you out.”

“She only wanted me to talk to her in Hawaiian.” Janis recalled, “It was so hard because no one else used it at home, and she just expected me to know. Well she tried to teach me at one point but I could never really sit still, so.”

“Well now you’re pretty much fluent.” Regina remarked, brushing her thumb over her knuckles, “So jokes on her, she was just pushing you too hard and had too little patience.”

“Yeah, Dad taught me. Spending summers here at home definitely helped.”

“So when are you planning on getting the new tattoo?”

“Well…I already have an appointment for tomorrow to get the traditional tattoo so I’m just going to ask while I’m there if they’re okay to do the semicolon for me too. Otherwise I’ll just find another place around here or go back another day.”

Regina liked the fact that the heaviness didn’t linger. Janis said she was okay, and she was. She was more than just ‘okay’. Her girlfriend was thriving, as was she. “Alright.” Regina nodded, leaning closer to press a kiss to the artist’s lips. “That was a pretty heavy conversation.” Janis started, “If you need a minute to just…feel, I get that. I can go to the other room for a bit.”

“It was, but thank you for telling me all of that. Thank you for trusting me, thank you for still being here. I love you.”

“I know, I know you do. I love you too.” Janis kissed her back, stroking the blonde’s cheek with her thumb.

Regina broke away from the kiss with a smile, “Are you nervous? About the tattoo? The traditional one. It looks very intricate.”

“Little bit.” Janis admitted, chuckling, “It’ll be worth it. It’ll mean a lot to me too, to have that part of my culture be a part of me.”

Their evening went on to be great. They had dinner at a fancy restaurant for the night— Regina made the reservation to give Janis a treat. And with the view of the ocean? Warm breeze blowing in their face? They couldn’t have felt more content.

After dinner came a walk on the beach near where they were staying for the remainder of the trip. They were staying with Janis’ family in the beginning but then moved over to a hotel after a week because they wanted some privacy. “Do you ever think about moving home?”

“I do, and I did. But I need more…opportunities. I don;t think I could get that here, though. Spent five years of my life here before uprooting to Chicago now we’re living in New York, as much as it sounds like a cliche. That’s where I could see me, be myself.”

“I agree with you, it’s a nice place to be. For creative things, the food, broadway shows. You said you’ve only ever seen The Lion King the whole time you lived here. I get it.” Regina chimed in, “We’re building a pretty great life for ourselves right now.”

They’ve been together coming up to a year now, and with a year left until college is officially done. So far, everything looks pretty damn good. After a good thirty minutes on the beach, the pair trekked back to their hotel before the sun fully set. They took a shower together, got dressed in comfy pyjamas and cuddled together under the covers to watch some TV to end off their night. Or not.

An innocent peck on the cheek swiftly turned into something longing and passionate. Regina kissed her over and over, slowly easing her onto her back, their lips never separated. “You wanna?” Regina muttered.

“Yeah.” Janis nodded eagerly, kissing Regina harder. Regina laughed, and retaliated. Janis moaned softly, making Regina want to hear more of that.

“I love you.”

“Mm.” Regina hummed, “I know, I know you do.”

“Fuck.” Janis whined, “Fuck me.”

Regina squished the smaller girl’s face by holding her chin, “As you wish.”

Their trip to Hawaii was much needed. It was Regina’s first time meeting Janis’ extended family and got to know them. But getting to know Janis like that, her opening up that much? Regina just wound up feeling more love and admiration for her girl.

“Good to be home.” Janis sighed, dropping her duffle bag on the hardwood floors.

“I actually can’t wait to go back.” Regina admitted.

“Yeah?” Janis chuckled, “The humidity didn’t bother you?”

“Well, actually the weather was pretty damn good for my back.”

“Oh, that’s true.” Janis recalled, smiling then leaning in for another kiss, “We’ll go back on our next break. Promise.”

🏷️Tag list:

@arandomeee @ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

This one turned out way shorter than I thought it would. I’m sorry😭

[simpforfandoms]

If possible, would you be willing to write Remy LeBeau x reader on their first date. Please and thank you

💜

I tried really hard to write a first date but I just can’t so this is as close as it gets

You don’t know how you got here, one second you’re chaperoning a prom and the next Remy is asking if you want to get out of there. And maybe it was the spiked punch (did they really think you wouldn’t notice?) or the fact that you had the slightest bit of a crush (god you sound like a highschooler) on the red eyed mutant that made you say yes. So that’s how you end you’re taking a stroll with Remy throughout the courtyard looking for any teenage mutants doing scandalous things and talking about pointless things

“In France is french kissing just kissing? Or french fires just fries?” You ask

Remy gives you a look, “I’m not French”

“But you know French?”

“Yes but I’m Cajun not French”

“Okay but you can still answer the question.”

“probably just called fries.”

“I thought so.” You shrug, you pause before adding, “not that you have to answer but, what happened between you and Rogue.”

You have been curious. You had heard rumors that they had gotten a divorce so in your eyes his response could be “I don’t know what your talking about” or just confirm that they had divorced. Nevertheless you convince yourself that they’re still together, as not to get you’re hopes up.

He shrugs, “we wanted different things”

You stay silent even though you know you should probably comfort him. Thoughts running through your head a hundred miles per hour. Wait so if him and rogue weren’t together does that mean that this wasn’t just a friendly stroll, could it be like a date? No. Remy could never see you romantically. You hardly know the guy besides secret glances and friendly conversations. Plus Anna Marie is so cool. After being with her he would never go for you. He’s an x-men, you’re just a teacher that teaches at the academy. Nothing special. Not like you save lives or anything. Unless you count evacuating the school as it blows up for the hundredth time.

He eventually notices your long standing silence and asks you a question, one that you didn’t hear but mumbled a ‘yes’ in response.

“do you wanna go somewhere to eat?” He asks

That brings you out of your daze, and you shoot him. A questionable look, “what? We still have to chaperone”

He rolls his eyes, “I never signed up to chaperone”

���What? Then what are you doing here?”

He lets out an oh so attractive chuckle, “isn’t it obvious darlin? I wanted to be with you.”

What. Why would Remy Lebeu of all people want to be with you. As previously discussed, he was an x men and you were, well you.

“So you went to a boring school dance just to be with me?” You almost laugh at the absurdity.

“it’s almost summer, you’ll leave soon and I won’t see you”

“And that’s a problem how”

“God do you play dumb.” He chuckles, “cause I’ll miss you.”

You? He’ll miss you?!?! You?!?!

As if he can sense your questions he answers, “I’ll miss over hearing your lectures every morning, and you always saying goodnight to everyone in the building including me, and how you remember my coffee order after I told you one time-“

“That’s because it’s just black.”

“My point is, I’ll miss you”

“I’ll be back in 3 months” you say

“To long to go without seeing you”

You laugh, “fine I can go for a burger”

…

“This is the best burger I’ve had in my whole life,” you state before taking another bite

“I’ve had better”

“Yeah sure.” You roll your eyes

You look at the time, “oh shit we have to get back before Charles realizes we’re gone.”

“I’ll handle it, don’t worry darlin.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

.

After some delicious burgers Remy walks you back to your dorm or living quarters.

“Sooo…” you pause, “I had fun.”

“Me too.”

“goodnight Remy” You go to turn around but he grabs your arm before you can. And gives you a goodnight kiss. Was it everything you imagined? Maybe.

…

[mrstevenss]

A while back I made a post talking about what I’m starting to think is the meaning of from as a show - a metaphor for domestic abuse. Just wanna add onto that, since some more stuff has been on my mind recently!

At first I recognised that a lot of the characters may be representations of how different people react to abuse, but I’ve also noticed that a majority of the people stuck in fromville have some sort of trauma relating to family or childhood that happened prior to arriving or very early on when arriving.

Boyd, having seen his wife kill a handful of people and even attempt to kill their own son. And considering he’s a veteran, he also might hold some trauma from being in the war and seeing people, some most likely being his friends, die

Jade, growing up without parents and witnessing his caretaker die

Victor, finding his mother dead and not being able to find his sister

Henry, losing his wife, daughter and son out of nowhere

Julie and Ethan, growing up with grieving parents on the brink of divorce

Tabitha and Jim, losing their toddler Thomas and being stuck in an unhappy marriage

Fatima, witnessing her father get killed when she was a child

Father Khatri, witnessing a child being abused and murdered and having to deal with the guilt of not being able to help

Part of me is thinking it may be like the entity in the smile movies, where they strategically pick victims who have trauma from seeing someone they loved die. In froms case, that trauma being something related to childhood and/or domestic violence/trauma- or even just people who are vulnerable to developing that trauma. I’ve noticed of course that the characters have past experience, but maybe the monsters pick based on their situation and state of mind?

Like Sara, who arrived with her brother who she was very close to. Same as Donna, who arrived with her sister, Boyd who arrived with his wife and son, Frank with his wife and daughter, Kenny with his parents, The whole Matthews family and Victor with his mom and sister. We know the monsters are smart, and are strategic with how they break peoples spirit. So if they have the ability to pick and choose, it’d only make sense for them to bring people who have something they can take away

And as I’ve said before the experience of being in fromville is incredibly similar to domestic violence and child abuse, but when I think about each individual character I notice that it actually mimics peoples experiences individually

First person that comes to mind is Julie- she’s grown up in a household with parents who don’t love each other, and has had to witness their abuse of one another for, I’m assuming, her whole life. I imagine this could make her feel as though she’s trapped, and forced to listen to the yelling, much like how she was chained in the dungeon hearing the people around her scream for hours

And Jade, he grew up without any parents and witnessed his caretaker- his grandmother- pass away when he was twelve. When he moved in with Kenny and Tian-Chen, he developed a somewhat close relationship with Tian-Chen which may have made him see her as a motherly figure. In situations like this, specifically with a person with trauma, it could make the person feel as though they’re reunited with the person they lost. On the other side of that, when Tian-Chen passed, it could have made him feel the same grief he did when his grandmother passed

Boyd is an easy one, which I think is why he’s been the target of the monsters torment so much. Since Abby, he’s had to witness many people he cared about- and even loved- get killed. Father Khatri, Tian-Chen, Abby, and one that I think gets looked over a lot- Lauren and her family. I find Boyds case with Lauren special, because I think it was less seeing someone he cares about die, and more that the whole situation reminds him of his family, and how he failed to keep all of them alive. He might see Frank as an extreme reflection of himself, especially with him yelling “A man protects his family” in a tone that sounded as if he was on the verge of crying. I do think in that scene he wasn’t entirely talking to Frank, and more talking to himself about his family and how he failed to protect them

There’s some smaller examples too. In early season two when the bus arrives and some of the passengers stay outside after dark, Fatima desperately tries to go out and save them while Ellis tells her she has to stay in and hide. Very similarly to when she was a kid and she had to hide as her dad got murdered. I think this is similar to Boyd in the way that they’re both trying to make up for what they couldn’t do years ago. Another person who I think has pretty much the exact same situation to Jade, is Victor. He witnessed his caretaker die as a child, and met a woman who reminds him of her, only to lose her again and feel the same grief he did the first time

Don’t know… but once again I’d love to hear your thoughts :)))

[whereispearlescentmoon]

My personal Life Series rankings (excluding RL)

Big Disclaimer: This is personal opinions. If you disagree, that’s fine, but also, I cannot be wrong because these are my opinions. You cannot be wrong because those are your opinions. None of this is hate to anyone it’s literally just what I enjoyed watching the most. There are some negative opinions expressed in this post. If that will upset you, DO NOT READ IT!

Smaller Disclaimer: I am a Pearl main viewer. The only season where Pearl wasn’t my main pov is the one she wasn’t in. I have only seen Pearl’s pov and the winner in completion for any season, as well as sporadic episodes from others. Therefore, I am also biased by how fun the season was as a Pearl viewer.

1.) Double Life- To absolutely no one’s surprise, a Pearl main’s favorite season is Double Life. The drama, the angst, the finale where she went fully batshit and just started killing. Also she won, which, ya know, makes me happy. And I really liked the gimmick of soulmates! I think it forced people to be strategic about whether or not it was worth it to actually fight as a pair, or whether it was better to have one person stay safe to heal while the other fought. I also liked that it kind of gave people default alliances, though of course that didn’t work out in the Divorce Quartet’s case until Martyn and Cleo made up near the end. The whole soulmates idea kind of forced some amount of player interaction and roleplay, which are my favorite parts of the series, even for those that don’t really do it as much.

2.) Limited Life- I have made the fact that the Nosey Neighbors are my favorite alliance ever no secret. And I think having both the ability to die a bunch of times, the gaining time for killing, and the boogeyman back created the opportunity for players to get creative with kills, to sneak around to conserve time, to go on actual rampages, and to have drama filled sacrifices. All of these are my favorite aspects of the series. I think when a gimmick is good is when it facilitates player interaction and kills rather than interrupts or overtakes them. There’s also Martyn’s win, which was just perfect. He took the fact that Scott and Impulse wanted a pure PvP moment, almost like Third Life, and instead tricked them into putting their guard down. Was it the most honorable win? No. But I’m never particularly fussed about honor or “cheating” when I’m here to watch a Minecraft death game between friends. He did the sickest thing he could, which is just outsmart them.

3.) Last Life- Oh beloved Scottage Duo. This is actually probably the prime example of what I mean when I say I like gimmicks that facilitate player interaction. Willingly giving over lives and the boogeyman curse were some of the biggest makers and breakers of alliances. This was also before I feel like alliances had to be really set in stone. People went back and forth constantly. Take Cleo, for example, who switched teams after BigB boogey killed her, and then kinda went rogue from GGG, and then switched back last second when she went red. The roleplay was great, the kills were dramatic and cool. I only really have it lower than LimL because of my bias for Nosey Neighbors lol.

4.) Third Life- A good old death game, plain and simple, and I like it that way! Good kills, good traps, and pure player interaction in a fight for survival. Bdubs’ finale is an actual fever dream nightmare. And of course the infamous cactus ring punching battle to the death. No notes. It’s really only this low because I am a Pearl viewer mainly and she wasn’t in this season.

5.) Secret Life- Pearl’s pov of this season was deeply involved, largely because the Mounders’ base was kind of central on the map. This meant I probably got the best idea of what was happening on the server of any of her seasons. I also watched at least a little of every pov this season, because I was curious about why people were acting the way they were so I wanted to see their tasks. The best task in my opinion was the zombie task, because it was something that got the whole server involved. I wanted to watch every pov to see when people were realizing what was happening, and I was genuinely excited by the interactions it created. I thought a lot of the tasks were great, in fact, but there were a couple that just… couldn’t work. And with so many people trying to get so many things done at once, there were definitely times where genuine interactions took a back seat to frantically trying to get someone to say or do something specific to get a task done, then bolting away to get a success.

And then there was the incredibly weak mechanic of gifting hearts. Some players started skipping doing it entirely, and I don’t even blame them. With no regen in a death game, gifting one heart didn’t really matter. It was much more rewarding to get hearts either from completing a task or, when that failed, by killing people. We still got a couple great sacrifice moments for extra hearts, which I’m always a fan of, but that was from the kill mechanic. The gifting didn’t really seem to end up mattering except when it came to reaffirming who was in what alliance at the beginning of episodes. Overall, a great season, but maybe a little over bloated.

6.) Wild Life-And on the topic of over bloated gimmicks. I will start by saying that I know the main audience of the series is probably like 12 and this kind of season probably appeals to them. I know that I, a 21 year old man, am not the target audience for this kind of season. I know that, but that doesn’t mean I can’t express an opinion on it. I probably don’t have any criticism about this series that most people haven’t already heard. I’m certain that Grian and the people he hired worked incredibly hard on this season, and the effort really shows. The models for the snails and the trivia bot were really cute, I think it was really fun to outsource quiz questions to fan creators, and the superhero mechanics were really well done. But that doesn’t mean I personally enjoyed this season as much as I enjoyed the others.

Player interaction, resource gathering, PvP kills, and trapping took a back seat to each episodes gimmick. My absolutely least favorite was the snails. Of the 120 something possible deaths, I think something like 30 were just the snails. In fact, that particular gimmick was so all encompassing that there was basically no meaningful interaction between players at all in that session, since basically every conversation boiled down to “man the snails sure suck anyways I should start running now because of the snail” and all of them seemed pretty sick of it by the end which is why they cut the session short. The fact that a few people actually managed to get base building done that episode was miraculous. I know it’s funny that that happened, and that maybe I shouldn’t be taking it this seriously, but it still contributes to why I didn’t vibe with this season. Not to mention, the growth mechanic was consistently super glitchy and a little hard to watch especially when people were trying to get up anything, and the mob spawn mechanic meant constant lag spikes that also made it hard to watch.

And then in this last episode, I’m sorry, but while it was deffo the finale I expected for this season that was already super chaotic, it was absolutely my least favorite finale of any series. I don’t think anything exemplifies it more than the fact that multiple final kills were due to mobs, including snail kills, in a session where almost everyone was on red and could have been killing each other. But they couldn’t focus on actually fighting half the time because they were shrinking and the trivia bots were there and oh there’s a vex and the snails are back and we have super powers. I couldn’t even tell what killed most people in their povs because yeah that explosion might have been a tnt trap, or maybe there’s a ghast somewhere or a creeper or someone is invisible and snuck up on them. Chaos is great in certain quantities but the whole finale was at an 11, and for me it wasn’t in a fun way. The only reprieve was the final fight, which was absolutely a fun watch because it was just actual PvP. Joel showed off some sick skills and won in a way I found very satisfying.

[myl0v3l1f3]

Something about Nicole’s suicide ending fills me with such indescribable sadness that I don’t know how to describe. The fact she’s just hanging there, the room was dark, the computer was on, the bed was not made, the whole house was dead silent. Don’t even get me SYARTED on the suicide note either:

“People are books, puzzles and pawns. In that order. First theyre read, then they’re figured out, then they’re persuaded”

People are read, figured out and persuaded as Nicole says herself, but theyre also open, confusing or difficult and gullible. In that order can be a reference to Nicole before the game, listing to her mom’s advice and being a “nice” child, but ending up being gullible and vulnerable in the end. Being confusing/difficult can be Nicole struggling to “fit in” in society, with the mindset and attitude she has.

“Some would call that wrongly manipulative but whats the alternative? Basically any advice my mom’s ever given me. “Dont be mean, don’t judge, be open,”,”

Nicole doesnt see another option besides manipulating people or being stupidly nice, with no in between. It shows the difference between how both of them think you should supposed ply act in society. Nicole thinks you should figure out how to change people to have control and ‘not get hurt’, whilst her mum thinks that you should be respectful, and - in Nicole’s eyes - vulnerable. An open target, really.

“And yeah sure but, that only works when men don’t wanna have sex with you. Be tolerant of guys who get off by choking you, no way that goes south.”

Nicole recognises that she CAN act like her mum says, she knows it’s an option, except she’s also aware that men do see woman as objects and things to stick their dicks in, and in a place where she is mostly interacting with men, it crosses it off as something she can do, because she knows if she does, she WILL get hurt. She’s aware that she’s supposed to ignore the warnings and calls it out but she’s also aware that she won’t be heard, by a majority of people.

“Whats wrong with a pizza delivery-boy with no career goals? Whens the last time you asked a pizza delivery-boy if he’s a rapist?”

I feel you can interpret this im different ways. I personally see it in two different lights - sarcastic (people like crispin are seen as people with no career goals, or realistic ones, and he’s most likely (obviously in Nicole’s eyes) a rapist, yet no one ever checks because they’re seen as less educated) and Nicole seeing no problem with ‘settling down’ with someone who doesn’t have a bright future ahead of him (idk I feel like this is a reach and doesnt make sense but this is the best I can describe what im thinking 😭)

“Theyre called warning signs, but ignoring them makes you a nice person. And one day, if you’re a nice enough girl you’ll end up just like me”

If you call out people on shit behaviour, you’re seen as ‘disrespectful’ or something along those lines. If you ignore them, you might have a good life, but in the end you will be caught up in vulnerability. Nicole frequently called out and accused men of inappropriate behaviour, and she was both hated for it and liked for it, however in the end, she called out someone who didn’t have a line to cross and in the end she couldn’t ’handle?’ It, the pressure and most likefesr of what would happen to her, as again, the men in this game dont have a line they can cross.

“And just like my dad”

This is such a line. Nicole’s dad killed himself, yeah, and Nicole could just be referencing the fact they both died the same way, but were not told why he kills himself, we just know it’s apparently Nicole’s fault. This could open up so many different reasons on why he did it (Nicole’s mum giving him less visitation rights, the divorce, etc etc or just being under pressure). I think my favourite thoughts in this line is that potentially, Nicole knew why her dad killed himself, and only she alone had the actual reason, which is why she says it - knowing people will just think it’s because they’re both dead/died the same way

If you’re reading this, im dead.

Very obvious, shes dead.

Sorry if this is out of reach Icl as I was writing this I lwk confused myself 💔 but uhhhhhhhhh lmk how you felt abt it?? CUS I CANT BE THE ONLY ONE WHO WNTS TO ACTUALLY START CRYING WHEN THEY SEE THE IMSGE RIGHT???

[unhingedangstaddict]

I'll Hold Onto You While We Run Chap 14 Sneak Peak

(Another Tommy and Lucy scene seeing as so many people enjoy their friendship in this fic!!!)

Tommy pulled open the door, inviting Lucy in. “Hey, wasn’t expecting you. Everything okay?”

“Got some info for ya on the creep from the bar.” Lucy explained as she stepped inside. “Figured you might wanna chat too.”

Tommy nodded. “Alright. You hungry?” Tommy asked as he shut the door behind Lucy.

“Starved actually.” Lucy headed into the house and sat down at the kitchen table.

“Well lucky for you we’ve got a ton of Chinese leftovers. Wasn’t expecting such large portions and Evan didn’t seem too hungry.” Tommy began pulling out containers from the fridge and making up a plate for Lucy, skipping the things she didn’t like and piling on her favourites.

“I could kiss you.” Lucy professed dramatically.

“I still don’t get how you enjoy the leftovers cold, but if it makes you happy.” Tommy shrugged.

“It does.” Lucy confirmed with a grin as she moved one knee to her chest, foot on the seat of the chair. “Lauren always acted like I was committing a crime. But I like it cold, so if I can’t have it fresh-hot I’m not going to the extra effort to reheat it.”

“How are things going on the divorce front anyway? I’d imagine you being here isn’t exactly helping.” Tommy wondered.

“It’s definitely not making things easier, that’s for sure.” Lucy sighed.

“I’m sorry things turned out so shitty in the end.” Tommy said sincerely as he set Lucy’s plate down in front of her.

“It is what it is I guess.” Lucy shrugged. After taking a bite she pulled out her phone. “So the creep from the bar isn’t anyone we should have to worry about. He does have a rap sheet with local PD for harassment, one charge of indecent exposure-”

“Typical creep things.” Tommy nodded as he sat across from her.

“Yeah, but nothing to raise any real red flags that he could be a threat to Evan’s safety. He’s been banned from the bar and if he shows up again he’ll be leaving in cuffs.” Lucy told Tommy.

“Well that’s a relief.” Tommy decided. “Evan didn’t really tell me how he felt about the whole thing, but he looked so uncomfortable when I got to the bar.” Tommy shook his head.

“I wish I’d noticed it before you got there. We were just so busy.” Lucy frowned.

“It’s not your fault. It’s the creep who was harassing Evan’s fault.” Tommy reassured her. “I can’t help but feel guilty though.”

“Why do you feel guilty?” Lucy frowned.

Tommy was silent for a moment, before speaking in a hushed tone. “When Cameron proposed the cover story I didn’t like it. I should’ve fought harder, proposed something else instead. Because if the cover story wasn’t what it is, he never would’ve had ‘bisexual’ on that name tag and he wouldn’t have been harassed and I wouldn't have kissed him.”

“Tommy, you had no way of knowing that was going to happen.” Lucy started. “And I’m not at all saying it was Evan’s fault, but he didn’t write ‘bisexual’ on his name tag because he felt like he had to. He could’ve skipped it altogether, or written ‘taken’ on it instead. He wears a wedding ring and the guy harassed him anyway. It’s in no way your fault or Evan’s.”

Tommy nodded slightly. “Still feel bad about the kiss. We haven’t done anything like that before- I mean we haven’t needed to in order to keep our cover or anything. Never even discussed it.”

“Did he say he had a problem with it?” Lucy asked.

“Well no-”

“Was he mad at you for it?”

“No, but-”

“Did he tell you that you crossed a boundary?” Lucy wondered.

“No.” Tommy admitted.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Mistletinder

Masterlist

Merry Christmas/Yulemas, @writtenonreceipts! I hope this fic finds you well. I was so happy when I got you in the draw because I admire you so much, and I hope you have as much fun reading your gift as I had writing it ❤️

@rowaelinscourt thank you for organizing the secret Santa!

Warnings: moderate alcohol intake

Words: 4,7k

“This is gonna bite you in the ass someday, you know?” Sellene reproached from behind the steering wheel. Her friend couldn’t see what Aelin was doing on her phone, but somehow she knew.

“Shh!” Aelin looked behind her to check on the girls, but they were still sound asleep. At the age of four, if they listened to any curse word, it’d be forever until they stopped repeating it over and over again. At least, from what she was told, the Whitethorn family was used to small children and their demands. It was the whole reason why she was spending Yulemas with them, after all.

Aelin and Maisie were on their own now, and when Sellene all but dragged them to her family’s farm because of all the kids and animals, it was hard to argue. After the year from hell they had, a nice Yulemas was the least she could do for Maisie.

“You’re avoiding the subject,” Sellene insisted.

“Yes. Because I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“But you sure seem to want to keep doing it, huh?”

When you’re broke after your divorce and your business isn’t thriving, ain’t it funny what you’ll do?

On one drunken night amidst her separation, Aelin downloaded Tinder and scheduled a date on the bookstore café she owned. But when she freaked out and canceled right after the guy—Archer—arrived, she could only watch from her mezzanine office, amazed, as he stuffed his face with baked goods and left with two books.

After that, luring people from Tinder into Fireheart Books & Cafe was just a small part of her marketing plan. And the most unethical one.

“It’s a lucrative strategy,” Aelin said, feeling defensive.

“That you don’t need anymore.” Sellene rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you just butcher the anthropology section to fit more tables?”

Yes. For the same reason Aelin added sidewalk dining tables. “Your point is?”

“Did you at least give someone a try while you’re at it?”

Once. Just one person that made her actually enjoy the execution of her plan, even extending it so she’d talk to him more before ghosting. Conversation flowed, and Aelin had already gone on some dates at that point after her separation, but she wasn’t naïve enough to think she’d find love on Tinder.

“That app is a lost cause, Sel.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t find some good hot dates.” Her friend wiggled her eyebrows. “I know I did.”

Aelin managed to muffle her laughter with one hand so the two sleeping beauties on the back wouldn’t wake up. She brushed her daughter’s chestnut hair away from her face, watching the way she leaned on her friend during their nap. Maisie and Bree were thick as thieves in preschool and, as single moms, Aelin and Sellene would frequently help each other out.

Sellene has a hot date? Auntie Ae and Maisie will happily have Bree for a sleepover.

Aelin is busy at the book shop? Auntie Sel and Bree can drop Maisie there when school is over.

Sellene was godsend this year, and listening to her rant about her love life was just one of the fun perks of being so close to her. If the few dates Aelin went to this year actually happened, it was because her friend insisted.

“So, how’s that thing with Ilias again?” Aelin said, desperate to change the subject.

A groan. “You will not believe what he texted me this morning…”

Aelin let her friend go on about her situationship, a little relieved that she wasn’t the focus of the conversation anymore.

Truth was, she was a little anxious about this Yulemas. Sellene guaranteed that her family was too big for Aelin to intrude in something intimate, and the Whitethorns were properly notified about her stay, but that nagging feeling that her and Maisie were crashing the party wouldn’t go.

After they got to the farm, it was a while before they reached the house.

When Sellene told her about all the family traditions and how homey it was, Aelin expected an old farmhouse of sorts. To be honest, she didn’t think much about how the house would look, but she definitely wasn’t expecting a classic-looking manor with an exterior made of white stone.

A blonde woman showed up on the porch before Sel parked the car, then she ran inside and came back, tugging a man by the arm. By that time, they were already leaving the car with their bags, but the older couple still insisted on helping them.

Rory and Owen, her friend’s aunt and uncle, as they introduced themselves. Aelin’s introduction was brief, since Sellene filled her family in on who she was beforehand, but they still made small talk. Though she wasn’t paying much attention, too caught up on the similarity between Sellene and Owen. Her friend joked about some strong traits running in her family, but this was uncanny.

“Genetics, huh?” Sellene said, a teasing grin on her face.

Aelin was staring, wasn’t she? Oops. “Yes, genetics.” She turned to Owen. “I can’t believe you’re not even her father!”

Rory laughed and urged them inside. “Come on, darling, there’s a lot of silver hair and green eyes for you to compare.” She smirked before she added, “And if you happen to like it, my son is single. Thirty-one, stable job, goes to the gym a lot—“

“Auntie,” Sellene reproached.

The matron frowned. “I’m not being very smooth, am I?”

Her husband gave her two gentle taps on the shoulder. “You’re never smooth at matchmaking, darling.”

Rory gave Aelin an apologetic smile before continuing, “We’re stuck with some housework right now, but if you can wait—“

“I’ll show her around,” Sellene said, waving her aunt off.

“Alright, then. Pick any empty room you’d like.” Rory turned to Aelin. “You and your little one are the most welcome, make yourselves at home,” she said with a beam before scurrying away to the kitchen.

And about Aelin’s little one: where the hell was she?

Sellene leaned closer to Aelin and murmured, “But you can totally flirt with my cousins if you’d like. There’s a whole bunch of them for you to pick.”

“I don’t think I’ll have time for that, but thanks.” Not that she wants to, but it’ll become a hard no if she’ll have to wrangle Maisie all the time.

“I saw them coming inside.” Sellene tugged Aelin. “Don’t worry, she’s safe here.”

“Your house is not.” At least not with her four-year-old on the loose.

The two women dropped their bags by the entrance and ran around looking for them, calling their names. Aelin couldn’t register much other than white walls and wooden furniture, her mind filled with what could Maisie possibly break in this small time frame, and how much it costs.

Aelin’s worry was peaking when she listened to her daughter’s voice coming from another porch, this one attached to the living room.

"Do you do your tattoos alone, or does your mom help you too?"

The man blinked, confused, until Maisie showed him the few Barbie bubblegum tattoos on her forearm. She gave it a pointed look, then to the many tattoos he had on his left arm, taking most of the limb.

Aelin decided it was best to make herself known, introduce yourself, and see if this stranger needed rescuing from her curious preschooler. She couldn’t see this man’s face from her point-of-view, but she had an inkling of who he could be because of his—shocker—silver hair.

“Maisie!” She called from afar, “I was looking for—“

The words died in her throat when she recognized the man before her. Aelin’s core felt ice-cold all of a sudden, despite the dangerous pounding of her heart. There was no way in hell this was happening, and she blamed Tinder for not requiring users to use their last name there.

“Aelin.” He made a point of looking at his bare wrist, as if checking the time. “I think you’re a bit late for our date.”

˜˜

Upstairs, in the safety of her bedroom, Sellene had the gall to cackle.

Aelin glared at her. “Could you not?”

Before ten minutes ago, her friend was absolutely clueless to the fact that Aelin and Rowan knew each other, just like she had no clue that Sellene and Rowan are cousins. But it saved her, since the woman walked into that porch and spared Aelin from doing any talking.

“Alright, lemme just…” Sellene turned away, as if Aelin couldn’t see her friend’s shoulders shaking from behind. Then she took a deep breath and turned back around. “Alright.” A twitch on the corner of her lips that was quickly concealed. “But you said you liked him?”

“That’s not the point!” Aelin said, pacing in the empty space between the bed and the wall.

Chatting with Rowan was nice, and she may have indulged in conversation with him more than she usually lets herself, but Aelin felt so drained after her divorce. She let herself be dragged to dates sometimes, but she didn’t have it in herself to fully face the dating scene again.

Sellene rolled her eyes and threw herself on the bed. “That’s the key point, actually. It’ll define our entire course of action.”

“Nope. Our course of action is whatever protects Maisie from this mess.”

Aelin was so afraid of fucking up Maisie’s Yulemas when she got here, she didn’t realize she’d potentially fucked up even before arriving. Her throat felt thick just to think of it.

Sellene squeezed her hand. “He’s not gonna cause a scandal or anything, Rowan’s not like that.”

“He’s not going to tell your incredibly welcoming family that I’m actually a cold-hearted milf that stood him up and ghosted?”

“Okay,” Sel trailed, grimacing. “He’s not like that, but he is a bit of a gossip, so…”

Aelin sat on the edge of the bed and groaned, her face resting in both hands. Whether he had a big mouth or not, she needed to fix this. Because she couldn’t put Maisie’s Yulemas in jeopardy, yes, but also because Rowan deserves an apology.

Truth is, Aelin never felt tempted to give a chance to the guys she chatted with, because everyone she met on Tinder could be classified as one of: a chronic manwhore, overall gross, or gross for a single but relevant reason, or a misogynist bigot. And sometimes she even liked to leave them stranded, especially when they fell into the latter category.

Usually, Aelin just acted flirty enough to let the guy think something other than coffee would happen, that way he’d run to their ‘date’ without wasting more of their time.

But there were exceptions, of course, and Rowan was one of them. He wasn’t exactly chatty, but she still found herself texting him back and forth late at night for almost two weeks. When he oh-so-gently requested to meet her in person after dropping some hints about it here and there to no avail, she knew she had to cut this short.

It was just business, or so she told herself when it was time to cancel the plans that were never bound to happen. Aelin didn’t have space in her life for much else.

But now the girls, Rowan and a few other Whitethorns were off to see the baby goats and some other kid-friendly farm animals, which gave Aelin a small time frame to plan her next move.

Sellene got up from her bed, nothing but determination on her face. “Here’s what we’re gonna do: we’ll wait downstairs. When they come back, I’ll keep an eye on Maisie while you scurry him away to apologize.”

This was the lamest plan Aelin has ever gotten into. “I expected better scheming from you.”

“No scheming this time,” her friend warned, “just tell him the truth.”

And that was what Aelin kept in mind, as she waited with Sel in the kitchen under the disguise of chatting with Rory.

The kids barreled into the room a while later, chatting about the farm animals they saw, petted, or even fed. Rowan lingered on the other side of the kitchen, carefully avoiding Aelin’s eyes while he rectified the little one’s exaggerated stories with things like actually, no goat charged at them, they just wail all the time.

Despite the high excitement, Maisie’s attention drifted when she noticed the batch of gingerbread men coming off the oven.

“My grandma makes gingerbread people too,” she said to Rory, then frowned. “Do you know my grandma?”

Aelin’s heart squeezed at the sight. She was hoping to keep Maisie’s mind off her father’s family these holidays.

“I’m afraid not, honey. Is she from Doranelle too?”

“No, she lives very, very, very far. I need to get on a plane to see her.”

“That’s very far indeed.” Rory chuckled. “What’s she doing this year?”

Maisie shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t have Yulemas with Daddy this year because he’s stuck in prison.”

The room fell silent, all eyes on her little girl’s outcast expression as Aelin’s face grew impossibly hot. Gods, her daughter sure had a way with words.

“Because he’s a prison psychologist,” Aelin amended, to everyone’s relief, by the way their shoulders collectively relaxed.

Chaol wasn’t seeing his daughter these holidays because he was too busy in the Southern Continent with his girlfriend—former mistress—but there was no way Aelin was telling her little girl that. Work was the go-to excuse to why he missed so many bi-monthly visitations, and it worked for Yulemas too.

One day, Maisie would understand that Aelin has been a single mom since long before her divorce. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to postpone said realization for as long as she could.

“Oh, how silly of me! I forgot to get rosemary.” Rory changed the subject when silence reigned, thank Mala. The time when Chaol was a touchy subject was long gone, but people still tiptoed around it with her.

The woman continued, “Aelin, darling, could you get me some, please?”

“Sure…” she trailed, looking around. “Where can I—“

“Rowan will show you the garden,” Rory quipped.

And Aelin thought that getting him alone for a moment would be tricky. Clearly, she underestimated his mother.

Rowan glared at the older woman, but she didn’t waver. Instead, the more that odd exchange lasted, the more Rory seemed to enjoy forcing her son to spend time with someone he clearly didn’t want around.

Fuck, Aelin needed to fix this immediately.

He gestured to the open back door in the kitchen, and led her to a kitchen garden close to the house.

Sunshine glanced off the leaves which vegetables, herbs and fruit grew, and Aelin wished she could enjoy its beauty more. The smell of fresh herbs and sound of the leaves shuddering were the only soothing things, given the conversation she had ahead.

She waited for him to make a start, to no avail. Perhaps he did, earlier today when she first saw him, right before Sellene walked in and they pretended that first exchange didn’t happen.

“I’m sorry.”

Rowan’s step faltered for a second. He gave her a curt nod, and continued his stroll towards the rosemary shrubs.

She continued, “I shouldn’t have stood you up, it was really shitty of me and I totally deserve it if you hate me right now.” A pause. “But I was hoping we could put this aside for Yulemas, you know? Being in the same house and all.”

“Alright,” he said while slowly nodding, and Aelin’s shoulders loosened up with relief for a moment, until he finally looked her in the eye and added, “I'll go easy on you if you tell me what happened.”

“I told you, I’ve been having a hard time dating after my—“

“Yeah, you told me that in your apology text, but I feel like there’s something missing.”

He got her there. It was true, but not the ugly truth.

“Remember the shop I asked you to meet me at?”

He nodded.

“I own it. And my Tinder account is strictly for… cash inflow.”

This time, he fully stopped. He studied Aelin with widened eyes, and after judging the seriousness in her expression, he laughed. It was loud and full, overpowering the gentle flutter of the leaves and birds’ wings around them.

He kneeled by the shrub, snapped a few branches with his fingers, and it was just then that Aelin realized they had already arrived at their destination.

“You’re not mad?”

Rowan shrugged, and she wanted to read his expression so bad, but he had his back to her, still working on his mother’s rosemary. “I guess should be mad. I’m definitely impressed. It’s a very clever move.”

Aelin didn’t know if she should thank him or not. “But are we cool?”

He chuckled, something more amicable in his eyes this time, when he turned around. “Yes, sure. It was just online dating. Do you know how often people get ghosted? I wasn’t gonna start a riot because of that.”

“‘Kay, thanks.” He was being such a nice sport, his forgiveness only worsened the guilt she felt. “And though you’re right about that, I’d be totally mad and petty if someone stood me up. Just saying.”

“I wasn’t mad that you stood me up—“

Aelin sent him a cut-the-bullshit look.

He sighed and continued, “Alright, I was upset. Not mad. What actually made me mad is that you ghosted me after that.”

She stopped mid-stride, her head tilted. This made absolutely no sense. Rowan broke eye contact to rearrange the branches inside the small bag, making his fingers busy for a small moment of awkward silence that lasted a lifetime in Aelin’s head.

“I liked you, Aelin. You didn’t have to do that for me to visit your coffee shop.”

Aelin didn’t want to think about why his words stung, but they did.

˜˜

Engaging in conversation at dinner would be a lot easier if Maisie was eating, not showing Bree magic tricks.

She placed a french fry on the table, between her and her friend. “Now close your eyes,” Maisie commanded. When her friend complied, she shoved the fry in her mouth and said, “Ta-da!”

Bree opened her eyes, and the loud gasp she let out after noticing the fry was gone gave Aelin a good chuckle.

“Do it again!” Sellene’s daughter said, clapping her hands.

“Maybe you could do it with the cucumber this time?” Aelin cut in.

Maisie turned to her mother with all seriousness a four-year-old can muster. “Mommy, it’s Friday. We only eat fries.”

Being the little entertainer she is, the people near Maisie laughed, not for the first time this dinner. Including Rowan, who sat next to Sellene, almost in front of her. It was weird, hearing his laughter instead of reading a “haha”. A good weird. Still weird. For Mala’s sake, she needs to sort her feelings out.

“You are such a silly goose,” her friend said, fondness filling her eyes.

“No, Auntie Sel, you are a silly goose. I’m a silly gosling.” The little girl took her time pronouncing each syllable of the last word, careful to get it right.

Aelin’s mouth was ajar as she stared at her. “Where did you learn that?”

“Wowan.” Maisie said, beaming. “We’re bestest friends now because he’s an animal doctor, and he promised to show me all his animal friends so I can be friends with them too.”

“Is that so?” Aelin plastered on a smile, hoping it wasn’t too strained. It didn’t go unnoticed that he was nice enough to Maisie for her to consider him her new ‘bestest friend’, even before Aelin apologized. Fuck, she needed to unpack this later.

When she dared a glance at Rowan, he looked a little stiff, but still gave her a quick, close-lipped smile. “She likes the baby goats.”

Aelin would know. Maisie talked about them all day.

“Wowan, I’ll do a magic trick.”

He turned his full attention towards Maisie.

She continued, “Did you see me do it before?”

“Yes.”

“Try to forget.”

“I can’t do it, Maisie, I saw you do that trick too many times.” He leaned back on his chair, a lazy smirk on. “But I haven’t seen you make the cucumber disappear.”

She jolted on her seat, put a cucumber slice on the table, pointed a finger at Rowan and yelled, “Close your eyes!”

When he complied, Maisie ate that cucumber with a ferocity Aelin had never seen before.

“Dear Mala,” Rowan said when he opened his eyes, feigning shock. “Do it again.”

And that’s how he convinced her to eat every single vegetable on her plate. Fuck, he sure knows how to woo a single mom.

Not woo, Aelin chastised herself. Rowan said he liked her. In the past tense. Which should be a relief, but this wasn’t how she felt as she watched him smile at her daughter and make her have fun while eating healthy.

Rowan stole a glance at her, but Aelin had her eyes on him already. He swallowed, likely unsure of what to do after being caught staring while she was already staring.

Thank you, she mouthed so Maisie wouldn’t hear. To her surprise, his eyes softened, and he gave her a small smile.

Relief finally washed over her, when Aelin realized that the awkwardness in his expression had vanished.

˜˜

As predicted, Maisie was so hyper Aelin didn’t manage to properly enjoy the farm herself. But she didn’t mind it, since her daughter was the whole purpose of this trip. Besides, sometimes watching the kids play could be better than TV.

“I wanted to go out to eat with you, not you and your baby!” Maisie’s arms flailed around as she tried to explain her frustration.

Bree clutched her doll to her chest, a wounded look on her face. “But I can’t leave my baby alone!”

Rowan, who was just passing by the living room, froze when he registered what was going on. He turned to Aelin, confusion written all over his face, and discreetly sat by her side on the couch.

“Everything alright?”

Aelin pointed at the tea party toy set near the girls. “They’re at a pretend restaurant, eating pretend food and talking about their pretend jobs.” A pause so she wouldn’t start laughing here and there. “Maisie was expecting a girls’ night, but Bree brought her baby with her.”

“Oh, I see.” Aelin’s gaze swept over him for a minute, and it was unfair how good his pine-green eyes looked when they were filled with amusement like this. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m getting popcorn. You?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, “I think this is a very complex issue. We can’t read it under a Manichaean view.”

Aelin chuckled, and they fell into comfortable silence while watching the girls. Rowan’s pine scent hit her senses, but it was the chilly wind coming from the window that made her shiver.

“You cold?”

She shrugged. “Not that much.”

Rowan stood up. “I’ll warm us up.”

“You’re getting a blanket?”

“Better,” Rowan said, a troublesome glint in his eyes. “Wine.”

Not as effective as a blanket, but definitely more fun.

“Merlot?” He suggested with his head tilted.

Unbelievable. Aelin briefly mentioned her favorite type of wine to this man over text in a late night conversation, and he still remembered it weeks later.

Rowan seemed to misread her silence, his expression becoming guarded. “But I can share the bottle with Enda if you don’t feel like it.”

Aelin’s gaze quickly turned to her daughter before she focused back on him. “Can it wait until after Maisie’s bedtime?”

Rowan took a step back with a grin on, and his eyes wouldn’t leave Aelin. “I’ll get the snacks ready.”

After wrangling Maisie around the house a little more and putting her to bed, Aelin found herself in the same living room as before. However, this time, the tea party set on the table was replaced by a small charcuterie board and two glasses of red wine.

They talked about their lives for hours. Now it was nearing midnight, and none of them seemed to grow tired of each other’s companies. It was just easy like that with him, and she knew it. Too easy, was what Aelin told herself in her office as she let him down. Too easy to be true, and not the delusion of a lonely twenty-nine-year-old divorcée.

Aelin had so many reasons why she couldn’t give Rowan a real chance, but she couldn’t remember a single one of them right now. Actually, she could remember, they just felt… small.

Too bad she was too late.

“And you never thought to move back here? Being a vet and all?”

Rowan sipped his wine. “I’ve lived in the city since I was a teenager, my whole life’s there. But I visit a lot.”

“And your cousins?”

“Not as much, but Yulemas is always here.” He cocked his head, his expression shifting as he grinned at her. “Though the company is usually much less good-looking.”

Aelin blinked. She stared at the glass of wine. It was her second, and Aelin knew her limits. She wasn’t even tipsy. It couldn’t be.

“Rowan Whitethorn… are you flirting with me?”

“Yes, I’ve been trying for a while.” A pause. “Is it working?”

Wow. She looked around, mind racing and empty at the same time. A turned-off TV. Potted plants with fairy lights on. A mistletoe. Gifts under a tree.

Rowan was flirting with her.

Rowan, Maisie’s new “bestest friend”. Kind, attentive Rowan who remembered her favorite wine and looked as delicious as the Focaccia bread he stole from the kitchen for her.

Rowan, who seemed to give her a second chance even when she didn’t deserve it.

“It’s working, yeah.”

He didn’t dare say a word after her response, and neither did she. He leaned forward, barely blinking as he tried to meet her eye.

Aelin needed to say something. She wanted to say something else, but it was hard to do it while she felt her old resolutions shatter like a wall of glass.

Going on shitty date after shitty date so she could find someone reasonably good, until something happened and she had to go back to the stream of shitty dates? No, meeting new people was a hard no for now.

But it was different when she had already met someone, right? Aelin wasn’t ready to give dating a chance, but she was more than willing to give Rowan a chance.

She got up and tugged Rowan’s hand.

“What?”

Aelin tugged on it again, so he got up from the couch too. Wordlessly, she led him to a spot right under the beam that divided the living room and the hallway.

She pointed at the mistletoe above them. “Oh, look.”

“Wow.”

“I definitely didn’t see that and drag you here.”

“And my mother definitely didn’t fill the house with mistletoes tonight because she’s in love with you and Maisie.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” she lied.

“So surprising.”

“Shocking.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Absolu—”

Rowan pulled their lips together, cupping her face with both hands while she wrapped her arms around him. Their lips brushed together, and it was almost unfair how soft he felt. He gently nipped hers so Aelin would open up to him, and the kiss was sweet and hungry at the same time. His hands traveled down her neck and arms, making her shiver, until he reached her waist and tugged her closer.

Well, fuck. If Aelin didn’t have any doubts about giving this a chance anymore, she didn’t know what to call it now. A negative amount of doubts? Anyway, her mind was jello. Aelin couldn’t know where this was going, but she knew she’d let it happen now. No more holding back.

Rowan broke the kiss and put their foreheads together, breathlessly breathing her in with closed eyes.

“If I ask you out on another date, will you show up this time?”

“Yes,” Aelin said, right before her parted lips morphed into a teasing smirk. “And I might even delete Tinder, depending on how large your coffee order is.”

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[winterserra]

prompt… 13 and 23 for winterserra?

Sorry this took me so long to write! The fic is under the cut because it ended up being longer than I was initially expecting.

AO3 link

Ethan wanders around his empty house. Things have been pretty weird ever since Mia moved out. Their divorce had been mutual and amicable, both of them knowing that things just… weren’t going to work out. That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt when he takes the photos of himself, Rose, and Mia down. He wishes they could have worked their issues out, for Rose to grow up in a two parent household, but with how they had been fighting since the whole…. Miranda incident… Mia had known the whole time that there was something different with him… He shakes the thoughts from his head. There’s nothing he can do about it now.

Ethan opens a bottle of wine, sitting down at the kitchen table, pouring himself a glass. This isn’t how things should have played out. He sighs before taking a sip of his glass. The fruity flavor hitting his tongue, making him pause. He picks the bottle up, looking at the label, Mia’s favorite. Of course he would pick this one to drink when he’s already feeling emotionally compromised. He sets the bottle back down, his head falling into his hands. If she had just told him… If Chris had just told him… If anyone had just talked to him instead of just expecting him to read their minds, maybe just maybe, everything that happened in the village could have been avoided.

He feels like his heart has been ripped in two. On one hand, he knows what happened couldn’t really have been avoided. Neither could the series of unfortunate events that was Dulvey. On the other hand, there were things that Chris had told them to do to make sure they were safe. One of them was to not contact Zoe Baker. Mia had told him that it would be fine. They were keeping their letters to each other a secret and were being as discreet as possible considering they were both being monitored by Chris and his team at all times, but still Miranda had found them. Miranda had taken Mia and Rose. He couldn’t help but blame Mia for that, especially after he realized that Mia had sent a picture of their baby to Zoe.

Thinking about all of this really depressed his mood. He stands up from the table, looking for anything else to do to keep his mind occupied from his dangerous thoughts. The wine and clean up was enough to reopen a wound he thought was closed for good. It's been months since Mia left. He picks up a couple of Rose’s toys, tossing them into the toy box. He still won’t see her for another week. Split custody hurts him more than the divorce ever did. Not being able to spend time with Rose as often as he would like… Just everything feels like too much.

A knock at the door startles him out of his thoughts. He’s not expecting guests, so he grabs his handgun, cocking it. If the two life threatening situations he’s been in has taught him anything, it’s that it's better to be prepared for someone to barge in and shoot you than to be unprepared and wishing you had done something to prevent it. He looks out the peephole to see an older gentleman. He looks worried. Confused even. Ethan takes the chain off the door, unlocks the deadbolt, and opens the door. 

“C-can I help you?” Ethan asks and the man’s face almost lights up.

He takes a step forward on Ethan’s porch before thinking better of it and stepping back. “I sure hope so, Senor. I’m a little lost and my cellphone is dead. Do you have a phone I can use?”

Ethan quirks his eyebrow, unsure as to whether he can trust this stranger. He looks harmless, but then again, so did Donna. “Open your jacket. Show me you don’t have any weapons.”

“What?” the man asks, but does as he’s told. Ethan doesn’t see any weapons so he allows him inside. “You have a weird way of greeting people, Yanqui.”

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Ethan says a little too aggressively. He directs the man to the phone on the table in the hallway. Leaving him alone to give him a little bit of privacy. He uncocks the gun and tucks it subtly into the waistband of his jeans, letting his grey hoodie fall over over it to conceal it. It’s not paranoia if people are after you, after all.

The man comes to find him, “A car will come get me in about an hour. Do you mind if I hang around here until it shows up?”

Ethan offers him a seat on the couch, “How did you end up here?”

“I… uh… well… I got a job nearby and well, I got lost on my way to the train station,” the man laughs. “I’m Luis, by the way.”

“Ethan,” he replies. “The train station is about 2 kilometers in the opposite direction.” Ethan laughs, feeling a little lighter realizing that the man, Luis, is not here to kill him.

“So, Ethan,” Luis smiles, “That’s a nice name. Of all the people’s doorsteps I could have ended up on, I’m glad it turned out to be someone as attractive as you, guapito.”

Ethan is taken aback by Luis being so forward. He blushes, “I’m just a guy, ya know. I’m no one special at all.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Luis laughs a hearty laugh. Ethan can’t help but blush more as he tries to avoid getting lost in his smokey eyes. “It takes someone special to let a stranger into their home. Especially with the way you answered the door. What was that about?”

Ethan freezes, taking his time before answering. “I’ve not had an easy life.”

“Maybe you could tell me about it some time?” Luis looks down at his watch. “Time flies when you’re having fun, eh, Yanqui? My car should be here any minute.”

Ethan looks down at his own watch. How had the time passed by so quickly without him noticing? “Yeah, I guess it does.”

“I’ll see myself out. It's just down the hall right?” Luis stands from the couch.

Ethan points towards the door, “Yeah, yeah. It's down the hall, past the phone.:

“Gracias. And thank you for your generosity. I won’t forget it,” Luis smirks then turns and leaves the room. 

Ethan instinctively follows him, making sure he doesn’t get too comfortable on his way out. He shuts the door behind Luis, locking the deadbolt and putting the chain back on the door. He puts his gun back in the drawer of the table by the door. He sighs, taking in the silence of the house again. Having Luis here was a welcome adjustment to his otherwise quiet home. He heads back to the kitchen, stopping by the phone. The memo pad has a small note on it that makes him flush bright red again.

Call me: +34 91 XXXXXXXX 

xo Luis