#i don’t know if my mom will be with me the whole time or just drop me off or if she’ll stay for some of it and then leave

[thisismeracing]

Paddock Pass (Taylor's version) | CL16

⸺ there are many perks to being Charles Leclerc's girlfriend. You get free paddock passes, you're able to watch him chase his dreams while you work on yours from the garage, and of course, you get Charles. What you didn't know is that he would add a new thing to this list: your favorite singer in the garage (based on this request). ✓ mentions of food; friends to lovers; not proofread; fem!reader (she/her). 0.8k words

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Life has a funny way of making things happen. You knew it from an early age, and it was kind of funny looking back at it now, as Charles' girlfriend.

As a shy kid from Monaco, your childhood wasn't exactly the most social one - you were shy, wore glasses, and liked to keep things to yourself. That's how you ended up discovering Taylor's music and became friends with Charles at the early age of 7.

During the summer holidays, with not many friends to enjoy the time except for one girl from school who happened to be traveling, you ended up going with your mom to the hairdresser. The owner saw how uncomfortable you were with all the noise and people and showed you to the waiting area, a room with a big TV and a few toys. You were the only one there, and the echo of the TV caught your attention. It was playing a song you had never heard before, a blonde singer wearing glasses and pajamas sang with all her strength. You were entranced by the image, so much so that the door opening didn't catch your attention until someone poked at your shoulder. "Hi, I'm Charles," and just like Taylor was singing, he belonged with you.

Eighteen years later, you were in the Ferrari garage working on your computer while Charles got ready for quali. Since it was the Vegas GP, and you didn't like the rush and lights that much, you chose to stay in the deepest area of the home motor curled on a blanket waiting until it was time for the race to begin.

"Cherie, Kika is looking for you at the Alpine garage," Charles knocked on the door, and peeked his head inside, smiling fondly at you.

You adjusted your glasses, "Tell her to come here."

"She's having lunch there, told me she got your favorite snacks for dessert," he explained, and you bit your lips. "There are not as many people out there since it's qualy," Charles tried to reassure you and you nodded, grabbing your cardigan and lacing your fingers with his.

"I told her to wait for you. Hopefully, she did," he had this funny smile on his face, and if you weren't so tired from the flight the other day, you would nag him about it.

You walked hand in hand to the Alpine garage, Charles stopping here and there to take a few pictures, but nothing as crazy as Sundays usually are.

When you finally reached the pink and blue facility, things seemed different. You didn't know how to pinpoint what exactly it was, but you felt like the usual rush was slightly blessed, and from previous experience, you bet someone important was inside.

"I've been waiting forever to do this for you, I couldn't have done it sooner because of the whole world tour thing and you know how hectic it was for her, right?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, feeling your glass frames move in your face, "What are you talking about, Char?"

He shook his head, kissed your forehead, and entered the garage. The first thing you saw was a mass of a man, huge. Then you heard his laugh, and it sounded familiar. The second he turned around with a big smile on his face, you felt your knees weakened, not because of him but because of someone likely there along with him.

"THE Travis Kelce?" You whispered to Charles still holding his hand, and he beamed.

"Hey, Yn! Nice to meet you! Your boyfriend was just talking about you minutes ago," he took a few steps in your direction, offering you a handshake, and you took it.

"He said you were the biggest fan," you heard her voice before seeing her, and when she stepped around Travis, you almost fainted.

"Oh, sweet Jesus-," you screeched, and everyone laughed.

"Taylor! Oh my God! I've been listening to you since I was a kid," you whispered, trying to hold back the tears and the laughter of happiness bubbling inside.

"Careful now, or you'll make me feel old," she joked and opened her arms, motioning for you to get inside the hug. You glanced at Charles, silently thanking him, and crashed into your idol's arms. Her hug was warm and tight, and you felt like you could stay there for hours. Her hands caressed your back up and down feeling how emotional you got and trying to comfort you.

When you took a step back, you saw how her gaze softened, looking at the T pendant Charles got you when you were still little kids. She pointed to a nearby bench, "Everyone's trying to explain how this works, but I still don't get it. Can you enlighten me on the F1 world as someone who's been in it since childhood?" Your brows furrowed in a second, but you smiled brightly at her. She seemed to get your confusion, explaining, "Charles was updating us on how you were the biggest Swiftie since you were a kid."

"Yeah, I met him when I first listened to your song too," you observed, sitting down, and turning to her.

"What? Now you gotta tell me this! This paddock pass was so worth it. F1 rules can wait, I'm a sucker for a love story."

"That I know," you giggled looking from her to Travis who seemed to be in a deep conversation with Charles.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I tried to follow all the details in the request, hope it's good enough <3 I hope you guys liked this! Make sure to like and reblog if you did *mwah*

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[vellazx]

Inspired by one of my friends prompts — Law x Reader (gender not specified) — Angst / Fluff

You were a Straw Hat.

The most perfect person in the world for him — on a different crew. You were someone who he couldn’t reach, no matter what he did.

He fell for you. Hard.

You always liked him. He was a pretty boy; perhaps the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. Ever since you laid your eyes on him two years ago in the auction house in Sabaody, you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Hells, you didn’t even speak to him.

At first, he just believed you were some diehard simp who wasn’t genuine towards him. So he shrugged you off.

He was always rather insecure, not capable of believing someone actually loved him. Romantically, at least.

You talked (pestered) him the whole time he was on the Sunny due to the newfound alliance he made with your captain. Honestly, you didn’t really do a good job at hiding your feelings.

More like you didn’t even bother to hide them in the first place. You were so direct with him about how you felt.

Still, he wasn’t phased by your endless compliments and attempts at making him open up.

One night, however, he wasn’t in the best mood.

He said you irritated him. Bluntly.

After that, you decided to leave him alone. It felt unusual around the Sunny without your constant rambling. For some reason, his heart ached without your warmth by his side.

He told himself you meant nothing to him; only a temporary ally with good fighting skills he couldn’t risk losing.

However, in Dressrosa, when Doflamingo managed to capture you and him both, you acted strangely.

You saw how distressed he was, being helpless before the Warlord. Behind that tough exterior, there was a little boy, scarred from his past.

And, oh, how absolutely protective you got.

Doflamingo was holding you up by strings, blood spilling from every wound they cut into your skin. But you still retaliated.

Risked getting killed to escape the strings, all because you didn’t want Law to feel helpless. His emotions were through the roof whenever he realized you were trying to meaninglessly fight back. For his sake.

When you got out, you were a bloody mess, barely able to stand with how wobbly your knees were. Some of your bones were even broken.

He asked with wide eyes, “What were you thinking?!”

You simply smiled, and said, “You hate him, don’t you? I didn’t want to sit around and do nothing to help. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

He met your gaze with an unfamiliar softness you’d never seen before. His heart skipped a beat.

That’s when he realized.

You fell first, but he fell harder. Way harder.

The whole time you were in Zou and Wano with him, he couldn’t stop staring at you. You shone like an angel in his vision. All your features amplified to make you more ethereal.

His teeth ground against each other whenever you got too close to one of your crew mates. Especially the blond cook. He swooned over you, and you laughed so wholesomely in response.

What he would do to just steal you for himself.

When Kaido and Big Mom were defeated, the whole country celebrating by holding a feast, Law offered to look around at all the games set up throughout the capital.

Happily, you dragged him around, completely forgetting that day when he said you were annoying.

He couldn’t stop admiring you as you indulged in the games.

His heart raced.

Ba-dump!

Ba-dump!

Ba-dump!

Gods, he couldn’t take it anymore.

So, he dragged you away, into a nearby alleyway. You flushed, asking him what was wrong. He was so red in the face that he looked feverish.

He hadn’t even touched you, yet he was drunk off of you. That same warmth he craved and missed.

Before you could question him any further, his lips brushed against yours, his hold on your wrist tightening. You gasped against him, not expecting the intimate contact.

Eagerly, you kissed him back.

He loved you too much for his own good.

“Come with me. Please. Leave this country with me.”

“Tra-.. Law. You know I can’t… I can’t do that.”

Fuck.

When he had to leave you behind, it felt like he was leaving half of his heart behind. With someone else. Under someone else’s supervision.

If anything happened to you, he’d steal you away without even asking for your permission.

But if something happened to him…

He just wanted you to know that he loved you.

[pinkiemachine]

More BatFamily X Meet the Robinsons (I don’t have time to draw this whole thing)

Tim: What’s your name, fruit-head?

Jon: Well, Jon, but—

Tim: Jon, huh? Well, say, Jon, you haven’t seen a spleen around here have ya?

Jon: A spleen?!

Tim: Yeah, my spleen! :) Been digging holes all day. Can’t find it anywhere.

Jon: Alright, look—I need to get back to the garage. Damian left me down there, and I wasn’t suppose to leave, and then this monster attacked me on the porch and—

Tim: Monster? There’s no monster on the porch you ninny! XD

Jon: Listen to me—

Tim: Of course, I also didn’t think there was a Starro living on my arm, and—whoop! *lifts arm to reveal Jarro* Looky there! Hope he ain’t got rabies!

Jon: Dude—I need to get to the garage!

Tim: Oh, sure, I’ll get you there in a jiffy. I know a shortcut!

——————————————————————————————

*opens secret entrance to the living room*

Tim: Welcome to the garage! … … … Well, I’m completely lost.

Jon: …

Artemis: Hello, Tim!

Tim: Hey, Artemis! Jon and I are looking for the garage!

Dusan: We have a garage?

Tim: Apparently so. :)

*and maybe Dusan and Artemis have a duel or something, idk*

——————————————————————————————

*Damian arrives back in the garage*

Damian: Alright, Jon. I’ve got the—*the garage is empty* …Jon?

——————————————————————————————

*Tim and Jon walk past Jason who’s beating the snot out of a punching bag and screaming*

Tim: That’s Jason. He’s pretty chill.

Jon: …

——————————————————————————————

*I don’t know how to translate Nyssa into Art’s bit*

——————————————————————————————

*Tim and Jon on the roof*

Tim: Well what are we doing up here?

Jon: Looking for the garage…

Tim: Oh yeah!

——————————————————————————————

*in another room of the house*

Mar’i: Jake! You stop hogging the trapeze or I’m telling mom!

Jake: Oh, lighten up, sis!

Mar’i: Jake, I mean it!

Dick: Children, please! Your mother is trying to take a nap—

Starfire: What is all the yelling out here?!

Jake: She started it!

Mar’i: He started it!

Starfire: I don’t wanna hear any more!

Dick: Now, sweetie—

Starfire: Don’t you sweetie me! I’m going for a drive.

*leaves and peels out*

Tim: That’s strange. She usually takes the Harley.

Jon: …

——————————————————————————————

Tim: Ooh, I think my girlfriend Steph is baking cookies!

*opens door to disco room, and Steph is jamming out*

Tim: Bake them cookies, Steph!

——————————————————————————————

*looking at Ace*

Jon: Why is your dog wearing glasses?

Tim: Oh, because his insurance won’t pay for contacts.

ba dum tss!

——————————————————————————————

Tim: That’s Duke, and that’s Cassandra.

*both wave “hi”*

*suddenly, Goliath appears!*

Tim: Oh look, there’s—

Jon: Ah! That’s the monster!

Tim: Oh no, Jon, this is just Goliath, one of Damian’s pets! And this is our butler, Alfred.

*Alfred has Goliath on a leash*

Alfred: Pleased to meet you.

Jon: Y-you too.

Tim: Hey, Alfie, any idea how to get to the garage?

Alfred: Have you tried Miss Kyle?

Tim: Well, that’s true, we didn’t ask her yet.

Jon: Who’s that?

Tim: Damian’s step-mom, Selina. I think you’ll like her :)

*opens door to Selina’s pet sanctuary*

Selina: Hey guys!

*there’s probably a bunch of cool creatures in there, like magical ones, alien ones, take your pick*

——————————————————————————————

ANYWAY, I’d write that they found Tim’s spleen, but I don’t think anyone wants to read that XD

Original Post for more context 👇

[caitified]

Do a fic for when Kate discovered that her wife was pregnant and how she told everyone of the team, you could also talk about how was the pregnancy

baby

kate martin x reader

warnings: ivf and pregnancy! going back in time a bit for those who have read my other kate family stories.

kate’s hands trembled slightly as she held the test in front of her, her wide eyes darting between the little screen and your face. you couldn’t quite tell if the tears forming in her eyes were from joy, shock, or a mixture of both.

you had been waiting for her to get home from practice all day, your nerves building with each passing hour. the positive test had been sitting in your pocket, burning a hole through the fabric as you tried to focus on anything other than the massive news you were about to share.

kate had barely walked through the door when you blurted, “i need to tell you something.”

her forehead creased in concern as she kicked off her sneakers. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

you shook your head quickly, stepping closer and pulling the test out of your pocket. “no, nothing’s wrong. actually, everything’s perfect.”

her eyes darted down to the object in your hand, and for a moment, she froze. “is that…?”

you nodded, unable to hold back the tears that welled in your eyes. “kate, we did it. i’m pregnant.”

kate’s jaw dropped, her bag slipping from her shoulder to the floor. “oh my god,” she whispered, reaching out to take the test from you, her fingers brushing yours.

“it’s real,” you murmured, your voice shaky but full of awe.

kate let out a breathless laugh, staring at the test as though it were the most precious thing in the world. then she dropped it onto the counter and pulled you into her arms, holding you as tightly as she could. she buried her face in the crook of your neck, her body shaking with a mixture of laughter and tears.

“we’re having a baby,” she mumbled, her voice muffled against your skin.

you felt tears prick at your own eyes as you clung to her. “we’re having a baby.”

it had been months of waiting, hoping, and holding your breath, and now it was real. you were pregnant with your daughter, a miracle born from countless doctor’s appointments, late-night conversations, and unwavering support from kate every step of the way.

kate finally pulled back to look at you, her face lit with a smile so bright it made your heart ache. “you’re incredible,” she said, cupping your face in her hands. “i don’t even know how to put into words how much i love you.”

“you don’t have to,” you replied, leaning into her touch. “just love our little girl as much as you love me.”

kate laughed, brushing her thumb over your cheek. “she’s already got my whole heart, just like her mom.”

you both stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other and the overwhelming joy of what was to come. when kate finally pulled you toward the couch, settling in with you wrapped in her arms, she tilted her head thoughtfully.

“we have to tell the team,” she said, with you curled up against her.

you groaned, hiding your face in her shoulder. “do we have to tell everyone? you know they’re never going to let us hear the end of it.”

kate chuckled, stroking your hair. “babe, they’re going to be so excited. plus, it’s going to get out eventually, and i’d rather they hear it from us than from some random gossip site.”

you sighed, knowing she was right. “fine. but you’re doing most of the talking.”

“deal,” kate agreed with a grin.

🫂🫂🫂

the next day, kate gathered her las vegas aces teammates at the team facility, promising there was “big news” to share. the group was buzzing with curiosity, and you could feel your nerves mounting as everyone settled in.

“alright, everyone,” kate started, standing at the front of the room with her arm around you. “we’ve got something pretty exciting to share.”

a’ja was the first to pipe up, her grin mischievous. “you two finally getting a dog?”

“better,” kate replied, her smile widening as she glanced at you.

the room went quiet, everyone hanging on her next words. kate took your hand, squeezing it gently.

“we’re having a baby.”

for a moment, the room was completely silent. then, chaos erupted.

cheers, squeals, and excited chatter filled the air as the team surged forward, wrapping the two of you in hugs and bombarding you with questions.

“when did you find out?” “how far along are you?” “oh my god, is it a boy or a girl?”

kate fielded the questions with ease, her hand never leaving yours as she proudly shared the news.

“it’s a girl,” she said, her voice full of pride. “our little girl.”

the team melted at that, and a’ja immediately started brainstorming baby names while kelsey demanded that she would be the cool aunt.

amidst all the excitement, you caught kate’s eye, and she gave you a look that said everything she didn’t need to say out loud.

thanks for reading! requests are open and feel free to give me ideas for their family.

[fortunxa]

I gave myself some time to think after watching act III, and I can finally share my thoughts. Let me break it down episode by episode so it’s more coherent because I’m itching to talk about it. Buckle up because this won’t be short.

cw: mentions of sh, depression, borderline personality disorder, suicidal tendencies

episode 7 — Pretend Like It’s the First Time

This whole episode felt like pure fanfiction and fan service, and I genuinely can’t believe how Timebomb shippers are still standing after this. Throughout this whole episode, it’s been clearly shown how Ekko will only accept one version of Jinx—the easy to digest one. The one that hasn’t been traumatized. How can someone call it love? Love isn’t picking and choosing what you accept, you either love the whole person or you don’t. Alternate universe Powder is the epitome of the manic pixie dream girl archetype for the current timeline Ekko. Would Timebomb work in that alternate universe? Sure, but that’s because it’s their reality. They don’t know anything else—Powder doesn’t become the Jinx we know now. Alternate universe Ekko isn’t faced with Jinx’s mental health problems—he has nothing to pick and choose from.

Do I hate Ekko? No, I actually like his character, but he’s torn between reality and fantasy. Can I blame him? Also no, because we’ve seen his childhood. We can only imagine what damage losing everyone he loved and cared about at such a young age (and so suddenly) did to him mentally. I can’t fault him for holding onto the past (even if he denies doing so), but it is an issue that stands in the way of current timeline Timebomb.

To him, there’s only Powder or Jinx, but she’s so much more complex than that. It’s been shown repeatedly how Jinx is a part of Powder (the whole act I of season 1), and how Powder is still a part of Jinx (until the very end, no matter how hard she tried to get rid of her).

BONUS: The necklace Powder has speaks for itself. A blue rose represents, and I quote, “Unrequited love, a longing for the impossible. A yearning for someone out of reach or a relationship that cannot be fully realized.” Both Ekko’s and Powder’s side profiles aren’t on the same side of the necklace to begin with. They only merge once she spins it.

BONUS 2: Other than “Ma meilleure ennemie” by Stromae & Pomme being an absolute bop, some of you simply didn’t translate it, and it shows. Here are some highlights, specifically Pomme’s lyrics (clearly depicting Jinx):

episode 8 — Killing Is a Cycle

The episode that started to break me. We see Jinx, absolutely drained, sitting in that cell because Isha’s death was her breaking point. No one and I mean no one, showed that girl the love and acceptance she needed and deserved other than Isha. Not Silco, not Vi, not Ekko. Building that beautiful storyline for two acts straight just to rip it away from her in such a traumatizing way—a parallel to the explosion at the warehouse, too? Wow. They were setting the stage for Jinx’s breakdown since the very beginning of this season. Making us watch the hope in her bloom, find something (or someone in this case) worth living for again, be loved and accepted for who she is just to watch it all burn and leave her with nothing again—pure evil.

“I didn’t know your mom was there.” Can you hear my heart breaking even further? That brings me to my next point: Jinx in relation to Caitvi.

After watching all of what Caitlyn did this season, not only to the city but to Vi, and then still believing Caitvi is healthy? Are we watching the same show? Season 1 Caitvi stood a chance, but this? So shallow and underdeveloped. Cait became a whole dictator. She was Vi’s breaking point, too, and the reason why she hit rock bottom in the first place. Jinx saw that firsthand, and she still thinks she’s the one standing in the way of Vi’s happiness? The only person standing in the way of that is Caitlyn herself, who isn’t even being held accountable for her actions whatsoever at any point. “We can’t erase our mistakes.” but we clearly can pretend they never happened, right?

“She’s being held in the bunker while I decide what to do.” What exactly did Cait expect from that? Telling Vi, her apparent love interest—who knows what it’s like to suffer in prison, not even physically but straight up mentally—that she’s keeping her mentally ill little sister in a cell while she decides what to do? What’s there to decide? And who are you to decide?

“I’m giving you this one chance to account for your actions, all the pain you’ve caused.” Is this projecting I hear from Cait? Can’t even tell since she never did what she’s expecting from Jinx, having done far worse things than her by that point. She let martial law take place for fuck’s sake. She used the grey to gas the Undercity (which still boggles me that Vi agreed to it). She was ready to risk Isha’s safety (a CHILD) just to get to Jinx.

BONUS (while I’m at it): Caitlyn would’ve missed the final shot, no matter how much she believed that she wouldn’t. She missed the shot twice right before that: first, when she shot Jinx’s finger off, and second, when she accidentally shot at Vi. They gave us this shot of Cait looking crazed out for a reason. She was losing her mind.

She was blinded by grief, yes, but I was waiting for the moment where she finally admits to her wrongdoings (other than screaming “I know!” while tossing a boat figurine, that is). “No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes.” Sure, and a lousy sex scene can?

Let’s talk about it.

When Jinx leaves Vi in the cell, she’s clearly suicidal and mentally unwell—even more than what we’ve seen from her so far. The dialogue they gave her, again, making her believe that she was the issue all along was just heartbreaking to hear. Yes, it’s Jinx’s perception of herself, going back to her believing she’s a jinx and how everyone close to her dies, but that perception of herself shifted when Isha came into the picture. And like I said, they took that away, so going back to the topic at hand.

Vi just being ready to hear another ‘I told you so’ from Caitlyn when she finds her, and then they just end up having “sex” (or actually, just giving Cait the pleasure Vi deserved instead after everything she put her through). We’ve seen crumbs of unsatisfying communication between them about what happened, and that sex scene in the cell was the last straw for me at this point. What do you mean Vi saw her suicidal sister sitting in that very same cell (starving and self-harming herself, may I add) and instead of running after her, she pounces on Cait?

“But the parallel to their first meeting back in s1!” I don’t care. That’s just fucked up to witness. In what world would Vi—who swears to care about her family—do that? We see her as this family-oriented person, who doesn’t give up on Jinx despite it all, and this was just so out of character in the name of fan service.

episode 9 — The Dirt Under Your Nails

Starting off strong, we see depressed and suicidal Jinx right off the bat. How did Ekko manage to get through to her? Well, it’s not like he would’ve stopped either way. He would’ve kept using his z-drive over and over again until he finally got it right.

What do we gain from that? Hopeful Jinx again, yippee! Wrong. She’s back for her sister, and it’s beautiful to witness. “I’m always with you. Even when we’re worlds apart.” Fighting with and for her, ready to die for her—we saw time and time again how Jinx was never the true jinx she believed she was. She managed to fix things with Vi—and even Ekko at this point—and managed to find and bring joy. That was the true ending both sisters deserved.

What do we get instead? Implying that Jinx sacrifices herself for Vi. Other than the pure rollercoaster of emotions they put Jinx through, making a suicidal character kill themselves (or even implying so) is just plain insensitive. What message does that send? As I said in a comment section, the writers aren’t blind, and they’re not dumb either. They know how many mentally ill fans Jinx herself has. As someone who struggles with bpd too, I related to her character in so many ways. More than I’m willing to share in this post, so that finale just left a bitter taste in my mouth. Speaking with other people who are struggling with their mental health helped me see that I wasn’t the only one affected by it. Quoting my friend: “We need to normalize considering the effects of the narrative on the fans.” And this isn’t to say that every suicidal character should magically get better, this isn’t how the real world works. But Jinx’s storyline had no reason to end on that note by that point. Forced and rushed.

Dead or runaway, leaving her with the “everybody’s better off without me” narrative was just the wrong way to go about it. Plain and simple. It was rubbing salt into the wound, spitting in the face of her development. They decided to end the show with an underdeveloped Caitvi “endgame” when they spent all this time developing Jinx’s arc. And all of this for what? Such a disappointing way to wrap things up, with literal crumbs as hints that maybe she’s still alive.

And the bitter cherry on top of Caitvi’s messy relationship this season, other than the complete lack of communication—Vi comparing herself to the dirt under Cait’s nails. What a cute (not really) way to remind us of their differences and Piltover’s stance on Zaun for the majority of the show—seen as nothing more than dirt. When Sevika joins the Council after the war, she’s still being looked down on. This just makes me sick.

BONUS: No mentions of Isha in Act III was pure evil (no, the paint on Jinx’s new outfit, the bunny ears on the balloon or even Isha’s doll were not enough. I wanted her death to be properly acknowledged. No, I don’t think it was too much to ask for). We got this beautiful found family arc between her, Jinx, and Sevika, only for it to be completely forgotten the moment Jinx reconciles with Vi.

BONUS 2: Jayce and Viktor were the perfect example of bromance. A friendship between two men can be gentle, affectionate, and loving without them being gay. No need for the ship, but I guess that’s the least of my worries.

BONUS 3: If anyone brings up the “beauty in imperfections” monologue to defend the ending, know that I’m not listening. They had such a beautiful show going for so long. Imperfections aren’t the problem here, it’s the plain disappointment.

EDIT BONUS 4: Singed out of all people getting a happy ending was so disrespectful. What a cockroach that man is. Nothing and no one can get rid of him.

Media literacy is important. Thanks for coming to my rant.

disclaimer: this isn’t me saying that the entire season was bad. But damn, do better.

[liviawildrose]

𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

it’s a hard pill to swallow, but sometimes, you’ve got to step into a role you never signed up for. maybe your mom wasn’t the nurturing, protective figure she was supposed to be. maybe your dad let you down in ways that left scars. maybe your friends only stuck around to take, never to give. the truth? you can’t wait for someone to come and save you. you have to become your own mother.

ask yourself:

if your child was in your shoes—stuck in a bad relationship, getting treated like crap— would you tell them, “stay”? or would you say, “you deserve better than this”?

if your child was chasing their dreams but struggling, would you mock them? no. you’d guide them, push them to be their best. you’d discipline them with love and cheer them on with pride. now, apply that same energy to yourself.

be that mom who says: “get your shit together because you deserve the best life possible.”

but also the mom who says: “it’s okay to rest, i’ve got your back, and i’m proud of you.”

start showing up for yourself the way you needed someone to show up for you. and yes, it’s sad. sad that we even have to do this. but it’s also empowering to realize you can.

personally, here’s my story.

my mom never cared to take my pictures as a kid nor cared if a haircut made me happy or not, it was literally everything up to her convenience. it hurts now because i would’ve loved to look back and see those memories. but i don’t have them. i can count the photos of my childhood—20 pictures in 17 years. insane, right? so, i made a promise to myself: from now on, i will document my life. i won’t delete my photos. i’ll make sure there’s a record of who i was, what i felt, what i achieved. and when i have kids? you bet i’ll take pictures of them. i’ll curate their childhood with care because i know what it feels like to not have that.

but being your own mother isn’t just about the pictures or the memories. it’s about analyzing everything you missed out on and providing it for yourself now. it’s about being selfless enough to let go of bad habits that hold you back. it’s about kicking toxic people out of your life the way a mom would protect her child from bad influences. it’s about prioritizing your healing, even if it’s messy and uncomfortable. you have to heal your inner child. that 5-year-old who was bullied, that 13-year-old who was treated like shit in her first relationship, that 7-year-old who dreamed big but was told she couldn’t they’re all still inside you, waiting for someone to nurture them. and unfortunately, no one else is going to do it for you. no one else is going to come and fix the damage.

i made a pact with myself: when i have kids, i will raise them so well that they won’t ever need to “heal their inner child” at 17 or 18. they’ll be whole. they’ll be loved. they’ll know their worth from the start. but for now, i’m doing that for myself. and you need to do it for yourself too. because at the end of the day, the only way to heal is to become the person you needed all along. become your own mother.

what is the inner child?

the “inner child” is the part of you that holds your early experiences, memories, and emotions. it’s the 5-year-old you who loved to laugh but was scolded for being “too much.” it’s the 10-year-old you who dreamed big but felt dismissed. it’s the teen you who felt heartbreak for the first time but didn’t know how to process it. your inner child carries the wounds, fears, and unmet needs from your past, but also your natural creativity, curiosity, and joy. healing your inner child means reconnecting with this version of yourself, giving it the love and understanding it never received, and releasing the pain it has carried for years.

how do you heal your inner child?

1. journaling: dialogue with your inner child

dedicate a journal specifically to your inner child. write letters to them, like:

“dear [your name at 5/7/13], i remember when you felt [insert memory]. i’m sorry you went through that, but i’m here now, and i’ve got you.”

let your inner child respond. write as if you’re that younger version of yourself—pour out your fears, dreams, and questions. this process can uncover emotions and patterns you didn’t realize were affecting you.

2. therapy: safe exploration with a professional

a therapist (especially one trained in inner child work) can help you identify wounds and patterns from childhood. they’ll guide you in understanding how your upbringing shaped your beliefs about yourself and the world. therapy also gives you tools to reframe those beliefs and meet your emotional needs.

watch “dear zindagi” lol

3. look at old photos and memories

revisit old photos, journals, or artwork from your childhood. don’t just look at them—analyze them. (i wish i could d this but im stuck with 20 photos so… 😭) what do you notice in your younger self’s eyes, body language, or expression?

• ask yourself:

• what was i feeling here?

• did i feel safe? loved? excited? scared?

• what did i need in this moment that i didn’t get?

• use this reflection to understand your inner child’s unmet needs.

4. create new positive memories

your inner child is still alive within you, and they crave fun, love, and freedom. do things your younger self would’ve loved but never got to do: buy yourself a toy you always wanted. go to an amusement park or build a pillow fort. dance around your room like no one’s watching. this isn’t childish it’s healing.

5. practice reparenting

treat yourself as if you were your own child. when you feel sad or scared, don’t ignore it.

ask yourself: what do i need right now? and give it to yourself.

be the loving, supportive, and protective parent your inner child deserved.

6. identify triggers and patterns

notice when you’re acting out of a place of childhood wounds.

for example: do you get overly anxious when someone’s mad at you? do you seek validation in toxic relationships? trace these behaviors back to your childhood.

were you taught that love is conditional? did you have to “earn” attention by being perfect? once you identify the root, you can start rewiring your responses.

7. inner child meditations and visualizations

find a quiet space and imagine your inner child sitting across from you. visualize yourself comforting them, hugging them, and telling them they’re safe. remind them: “you don’t have to be scared anymore. i’m here for you.”

8. nurture yourself daily

make self-care non-negotiable. eat foods you love, sleep well, move your body, and spend time doing things that make you happy. when you treat yourself with care, you show your inner child they’re worth it.

9. forgive

healing isn’t about excusing those who hurt you. it’s about releasing the hold they have over you so you can move forward. write a forgiveness letter—not for them, but for yourself. (they don’t deserve the love i’m sorry)

“i release the pain you caused me so it doesn’t control me anymore.”

10. promise to break the cycle

vow to yourself (and your future children if you want them) just cause your grandma bleed on your mom and then your mom passed it to you does not mean you will make your future kids life miserable too. the generational trauma must break with you. your future child does not deserve it and so your inner child protect you inner child and when you have a child of your own be the best mother possible, i personally would love to make my future kids childhood so memorable and happy that they will feel the need to comeback and relive their childhood that’s the kind of childhood i want to give them

“i will not let this pain define me. i will create a life of love, joy, and freedom.”

healing your inner child isn’t easy, but it’s life-changing.when you reconnect with that innocent, wounded part of yourself, you’ll find that the love and peace you’ve been searching for has always been within you.

11. foster your inner child’s dreams

when you were a child, your dreams weren’t influenced by fear, rejection, or societal pressures. you dreamed with your heart wide open, purely and authentically. reconnecting with those dreams can heal the part of you that felt unheard or invalidated back then.

a. reflect on your childhood aspirations

• sit down and ask yourself:

• what did i want to be when i was 5? 10? 13?

• what made me happiest back then?

• what did i lose interest in because someone told me i wasn’t good enough?

• write down every dream, no matter how “unrealistic” it seems.

hint: those childhood dreams often point to your soul’s calling.

b. start chasing those dreams now

• even if your dreams have evolved, find ways to honor the essence of them.

• wanted to be a singer at 13? start singing lessons or recording yourself.

• wanted to help people? explore careers like psychology, teaching, or coaching.

• don’t hold back.

it’s not about being perfect, it’s about reconnecting with the passion your younger self had.

c. create small wins for your inner child

• maybe 8-year-old you always wanted to paint but never got the supplies. buy yourself a beginner’s set and paint, even if it’s messy.

• maybe 6-year-old you wanted to be a dancer. take a fun dance class and twirl like no one’s watching.

• small wins send the message to your inner child that they are finally being prioritized.

e. validate your inner child’s feelings and failures

• remind yourself:

“it’s okay that 10-year-old me struggled with making friends. i was just a child trying my best.”

• instead of shaming yourself for past actions, honor them.

every mistake was a step toward becoming the incredible person you are now.

f. use your dreams to shape your future

• your childhood passions aren’t just hobbies—they’re roadmaps to your authentic self.

• align your current goals with your inner child’s desires.

• if 7-year-old you dreamed of making people smile, maybe your career or side hustle should reflect that.

• if 12-year-old you loved storytelling, find ways to write, act, or share your voice.

fostering your inner child’s dreams doesn’t just heal the past—it builds a future that feels authentic to you. every time you take a step toward those dreams, you’re telling your inner child: “you were always worthy. your dreams always mattered. and now, i’m making them come true for you.”

[goingmerryfics]

Please, please, please my man Katakuri x Big mom's Baker!Reader. The Reader would be the who cook katakuri's merienda

The Dozen - Baker!Reader x Katakuri

Content: Katakuri realizes he’s in love, that’s it

Notes* When I got this request I was nearly done with Whole Cake Island and let me tell you, I love this man and this prompt. Here you are!

Katakuri

Katakuri was starting to notice that the donuts taste different.

It wasn’t a bad thing, per say. Actually, it was quite the opposite. These ones weren’t as greasy, they were a little lighter, more vanilla, more glaze. 

It was enough for him to notice it quickly in the very short time since you had started working as Big Mom’s new baking apprentice, intending to take over the role as the head of the kitchen someday

Each donut was crafted with care, perfectly round and plated beautifully.

They paired well with his tea!

Katakuri knew his donuts. These were different, and he wanted to know why

That’s what led him to seeking you out for the very first time

 Hearing that he was on his way, the kitchen was in a panic- worried that maybe they had let you get too carried away with your new job, that maybe it was too early to let you serve him your baked goods.

But you were confident in your ability and your skill, unwavering until he’s standing before you

You had heard that he was tall, but this was a completely new level. He was huge, imposing, his presence demanded you attention without words.

You swallowed hard, waiting for him to speak

“Are you the baker that made my donuts?” He asks you calmly

You confirm his suspicions, and he nods

There’s a weird silence as he tries to figure out what to say.

There’s a few things about you that he wants to comment on- the colour of your hair, how wide your eyes are- but he settles with a quick word of praise for you to keep it up before leaving in a rush. 

It was a strange encounter for both of you, because as he leaves he finds himself… Confused

Charlotte Katakuri is known for his unflinching loyalty to his family, his honor, and his stoic, cool demeanor. A warrior that is undefeated and has never fallen on his back.

But all that feels like it’s been thrown out the window in an instant, because with just one look, he feels something changing inside him

He finds himself thinking of you even when he’s not eating your snacks

When he’s just going about his day and trying to act normal but he can feel the heat in his face when he thinks about those eyes of yours

He’s really glad for his scarf at times like these.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by others around him, and he always gets flustered when he’s trying to save himself.

Suddenly he can’t seem to control his emotions and it’s all your fault

He tries to keep it down, tries to suppress the feeling, but you’ve got him wrapped around your finger and you don’t even know it.

Each new batch of donuts only makes him feel more and more for you

A month after your first encounter, he calls for you to meet with him. He needs to see you again, to talk to you properly, at least to get your name so he knows what to call the person that’s taken his heart so quickly

The person that’s taken him down with just a look

He wants to see you smile, know what your dreams are, and hear stories about where you’re from

It starts to become a weekly thing, and then about three times a week when he can spare the time

him seeking you out to talk, get to know you better, and listen to you laugh 

He’s a little apprehensive to talk much about himself, even as you encourage it, though

He’s such a sweetheart to you as you soon learn. He cares about his family and he does what he can to take care of his siblings in his work

He won’t confess to you, but you’re suspicious that he might have feelings

You’re pretty sure you’re starting to feel for him, too

[rowdyluv]

I just need a little Timeless blurb on how Quinn and Jack find out about Emmy and their reaction

previous blurb Rosey’s first trimester would be ending in October. Her and Luke decided they would wait until thanksgiving break to tell his brothers the news.

The exhausted college students that were Luke and Rosey were more than grateful to be home for a few days. Rosey was still fighting morning sickness, why they called it morning sickness she didn’t know because it lasted all day long for her. Yet she persevered and pushed through it.

“Luke are you sure they won’t be mad at you? At us?” Rosey fidgets with hem of her newly purchased umich hoodie.

“I’m not sure of anything but my love for you and that little baby in there,” He says placing a hand on her stomach and looking directly in her eyes. “but I know my brothers enough that if they are upset with me or us they won’t be too terribly rude about it. Especially Quinn.”

She audibly sighed and then relaxed. “It’s too late to worry about their opinion anyways. If they aren’t happy then they won’t see her.”

Luke let out a small quick laugh as leaned over to kiss her cheek, “Ro, we haven’t found out the gender yet. Don’t assume or get too attached to the thought of little bit being a girl. Gender grief is a thing…”

His words trailed off as footsteps were getting louder and closer to his room.

“Lukey you know the rules, doors open.” Jack tsked playfully before winking.

“Do you need something?” Luke asked annoyed with his brother’s words.

“I don’t need anything, but mom sent me to inform you that we are all waiting for you to acknowledge her text message that dinner is ready and to bring whatever gifts she’s referring to.” Jack left the room waving the two of them off. Ignoring the fact that Rosey launched herself off the bed and ran to the bathroom across the hall as he was leaving.

…

Dinner was nice and went smoothly. A typical Hughes dinner. Rosey picked at her food though, only non-typical gesture.

“Sweetie, do you want to go ahead and give Jack and Quinn their gifts?” Ellen asked at neither Luke or Rosey in particular but Luke got up to grab their bags.

“Please pull them out simultaneously, that way you’re both reading at the same time. The other can’t blurt it out until you know the other has comprehended.” Ellen explains. Jack and Quinn share a look because pulling out a jersey each and a card tied to the tag.

“Thanks for getting me my own jersey!” Jack chirpped. Then saw the note and his eyes fell on uncle instantly. His eyes were flipping between “uncle”, his baby brother, and older brother.

“Quinn. You?” Jack whispered.

“I’ve got it, but I need a minute. Please.” He choked bit.

“Q? Are you…mad?” Rosey whispered.

“No. I’m not mad. I’m just shocked…. I mean? Wow. Little Lukey. Is going to have his own little Lukey or little Rosey.” Quinn smiled. “And I’m an uncle? I get to see the kid but I can give it back. Best. Thing. Ever.”

Everybody around the table laughed at quinn and his over excitement. Rosey relaxed a little bit. Luke felt much more at ease now that his whole family knew. But what he didn’t realize was the stress only intensified when it came to baby shower planning. He’s just glad he didn’t have to attend.

[amurder-ofcrows]

on the topic of people missing and loving you more than they say, within the last few weeks i’ve been proven that an

ex friend who really hurt me admitted they fucked up severely because of peer pressure and they’re sorry and want to meet up this week (they live in philly and are coming home for thanksgiving)

i was one of 3 non-relative people at a wedding that i helped one bride write her vows and the two other non-relatives were friends since birth (whereas i was middle school)

my friend said when i was visiting her mom she ended up coming over to see me instead of hanging out with her boyfriend on the logic they moved in together and she doesn’t see me enough and she came at a time before i went to bed because she knows i don’t like to stay up late

and today a barista at my local coffee shop had a whole conversation with me while i waited and told me what places make the best coffee even though she was on the clock for the coffee shop that pays her bills and recommended some new drinks for me just based on my usual order and i realized just how much i’ll miss her when i move

these people thought about me more than i realized and i miss them a lot most of the time. we all need to get better at saying how much we think of each other

[paingoes]

Crash Out - Sabina

hi. this one is pretty dark. heres some backstory on paris’s parents. it’s about forced marriage and offscreen/implied forced pregnancy and rape. nothing sexually explicit is depicted, just implied. heavy overtones of domestic violence as well.

(Content: abduction, lady whump, forced marriage, physical abuse, familial whump, royal whump, intimate whumper, defiant whumpee, domestic violence, starvation, referenced child endangerment, implied noncon, suicide, poisoning, death, unhappy ending)

“Oh shit,” Paris sat up in the passenger seat, pushing the sunglasses up off his eyes. “I’ve been here before.”

The city below glowed in the early morning light, pale and crystalline. The glass spires jutted out from the soft grass. It looked cold, somehow. Twinkling. Lorelai had never seen a town look so fragile. She’d have never thought to describe one that way if she had not seen it herself.

“What?” she asked. “On conquest?”

“No,” he answered huffily, as if this were an unreasonable assumption to make.

“With my mom,” he explained, looking off into the middle distance. “Her family’s from here.”

Lorelai slid out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. He followed her out, down the smooth stones that made up the pathway into the city center. 

It was a pleasantly cool day, but the architecture made the whole scene feel wintery. She imagined that she was entering into a kingdom of ice. She remembered Thales, how cold it had been on the night of the ball. As she slipped her hand into Paris’s own — the non-dominant, the less injured one — she felt the same chill. It wasn’t all unpleasant. There was a beauty to it.

 All it had to be was a supply run. The imperial currency was standardized, good enough for all the planets in its territory. The further out they got, the more open the locals became to haggling. She leaned forward against the counter of the fruit stand. The vendors liked her. Everyone always liked her.

After a while of staring off into the hillside, Paris propped one arm against the barrel.

“You know where I can find a Selene Lucia?” he asked them.

They were nice enough to draw up a map, the pencil carving a path up into the hills. No exact address, but Paris swore he’d know it when he saw it. By her estimate, if he’d come with his mother, he hadn’t been here since he was seven years old.

The pale buildings petered out on the climb, the houses became sparser, more residential. In time, he really did abandon the map, working purely off the distant memory. 

The trees shaded the sidewalk. She traced her fingers along the black fence that divided the path from the lawns, listening to the pleasant vibration it made in her fingers. The leaf canopy cleared for a split second as they passed another gate.

“This is it,” Paris said abruptly. He stared at it dumbfounded.

“You think she still lives here?” Lorelai asked, frowning.

“Don’t see why not.”

Neither of them moved.

“Are you coming?” he asked. It seemed like he already knew the answer.

“…If you want,” she offered. He shook his head. The one and only time she had met his father, it hadn’t gone well. She didn’t want much to do with his family.

“Call me if you need help,” he said as he pushed the gate open.

“You too.” She nodded, heading back down the hill. The sun was higher in the sky now. The city reflected it straight into her eyes, nearly blinding her.

~

“Oh, god,” Selene Lucia said as soon as she opened the door.

“Hi,” Paris said, pleasantly surprised to even be recognized. 

She pulled him into the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Are you being followed?” she asked.

“Uh, no, ma’am. Don’t think so. Not now.” Paris ran one hand through his hair.

“What are you doing here?” She narrowed her eyes. Her face had creased from years of that same, skeptical motion.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I was in the area. I just wanted to stop by.”

He needed to do laundry, too. He decided not to mention that now.

Selene sighed. There was some relief there, he could tell. Maybe she thought he’d come asking for more. 

He looked around at the house. It was smaller than he remembered, but still nice. Light filtered in through the sheer curtains.

She led him into the violet-colored kitchen, the dark sharpness of him clashing against the scene. She’d been working when he knocked — and this she resumed. He leaned back against the counter, rocking gently against it, watching the knife cut thin lines through the stalks.

“Do you need me to do anything?” he offered. She shook her head. He shrugged, looking back down at the linoleum.

“You’re wanted in five hundred different territories,” she said.

Five hundred sixty one.

“Yeah,” he said, not looking up. For some reason, he hadn’t thought that’d be her first reaction. 

“It’s your father’s fault, you know. Leaving everything in the air like that. It wouldn’t have happened if he-“

“-if he believed he could die?” Paris finished. He’d had the same thought, a million times over.

She made a soft and exasperated sound — and said nothing else.

“You didn’t…call or anything. After he died,” he said tentatively. 

“We had no contact,” Selene said.

“My phone number is public record,” Paris said, not hiding the hurt in his voice. He leaned forward, his arms crossed over his midsection. She didn’t turn to look at him.

“I don’t know why you’d expect that from me,” she said.

“I didn’t.” He shrugged. “I just…I don’t know. It would’ve been nice.”

“Would it?” She asked, turning now.

He frowned. What was he supposed to say to that? He hadn’t even realized he wanted it until he entered the house. It hadn’t occurred to him at all.

“I don’t know why you didn’t,” he said. “You didn’t call me when she died, either. You didn’t reach out at all.”

She seemed to lose her resolve then. She signed, nodding her head in the direction of the kitchen table. He sat down where indicated. The whorls of wood grain stared back up at him. Their shapes had mesmerized him when he was little.

“Is ginger tea fine?” She asked as she lit the last of the stove’s burners.

“Yes, ma’am.” He agreed, though he knew he wouldn’t drink it. He tried not to drink from any open containers — and he watched her hands carefully as she prepared it, wary of pills, wary of poison.

She placed two pale yellow teacups down on the table. Powder blue chinoiserie decorated the edges of the saucers. Steam floated delicately off the golden surface of the water.

“Do you know how your parents met, Paris?”

~

On a morning wet with dewdrops, Selene and Sabina tread happily through the underbrush. The sky was pale and overcast, but the sweaters their mother had knit for them kept them warm and comfortable. Sabina picked at the roses and the sweet briar that bloomed out of the damp earth. Twin blonde braids fell down her back. They were stained with mud at the edges when she’d bent down to touch the grass.

Selene watched the skies with a kind of dormant worry. There was something she was always waiting for, but never really expected. But it had come anyway. It had landed last month.

There was a place the land crested, the point at which the forest gave way to the clear valley. When they were little, they had dragged their sleds out to it on snowy days and laughed as they flew down the hill.

With the easy familiarity of someone who had walked this path since birth, Sabina moved to the top of the ridge. She was startled to find that in the valley below, a large ship was parked. It was more expensive than anything she’d ever laid her eyes on.

All dressed in scarlet against the verdant grass, a man stood tall and impervious. For a split second, his eyes fell on her. And that was all he needed.

~

The Emperor arrived in fine robes, in the middle of town, all his footmen swarming in droves about him. His color was pale, in a way that is supernatural. Not at all sickly. He was in good health. 

In the market, Selene crowded closer to the exit, while all Sabina seemed to want to do was stand her ground. The Emperor fixed his eyes on her, matching her boldness. His hands didn’t shake the way hers did, but the length of her was all resistance.

He liked it.

“Briar Rose,” he said, sing-song, “Was that you in the canyon the other day?”

Unbelievably, his hand moved to trace her braids. She smacked it away, teeth bared, furious.

“Go fuck yourself,” Sabina hissed. 

All she got in return was a chuckle. It was the sound birds made when the bullet missed their heart.

~

The knock came in the middle of the night, with only Selene up to answer it. She peeked through the curtain, and immediately drew far back, down onto the carpet.

“Daddy,” she cried, in a pitch she had not reached since childhood. 

He came instantly and sent her back to her room, far from the thin door that separated their house from nightfall. But her room was right by the entrance. She pressed her ear to the ground to listen.

“Would you accept a dowry?” came the low drawl of the Emperor. “For the youngest. The blonde one.”

“She is my daughter,” Father’s voice came out wrathful in return. “You can take the rest of the world - god knows you already have - but you will not touch her.”

“I would take good care of all of you,” he promised. “I don’t mean to distress her. I think it’d be best if we were all on the same page about this.”

Milky, sick. Selene cried until she couldn’t breathe, then cried more. Sabina slept in the next room, fast asleep, unknowing.

~

Roses. There were thousands of them, clogging up the yard, on each surface of the porch. Roses, roses, roses. The scent was overpowering. It was like something out of a nightmare. When she moved to open the door that morning, Sabina met a stiff resistance. That was thick the petals were stacked.

They came with a note. Father snatched it away before Selene could read, but Sabina had seen it.

She heard her sister crying down the hall. She watched it through a crack in the door.

“I don’t wanna go,” Sabina sobbed, “Mama, I don’t wanna go, please.”

She hid her face in the fabric of their mother’s dress, bent over on the floor, inconsolable. Already flinching away from any touch.

~

“You will come quietly,” the Emperor said, “Or you will come in chains. It makes no difference to me.”

Sabina swung at him as if she could knock his head straight off. It took five men to drag her off in those glistening, golden chains. She was soaked with sweat and tears, an awful slickness, a thrashing.

~

Castle Thales was dark in wintertime — and to her starved body, each room was freezing. Each door had a lock — and she had no keys.

He left her in her own bedroom the first nights. Locked up there, hands bound, until she was ready to *calm down*. He’d thought it would take days. It ended up taking months. It was only when the food stopped that she became handleable.

Sabina glared daggers at him. Her hands shook too much to hold utensils. He thought it was from fear, but it was all just fury. 

She dreamt of killing him nightly.

~

“It won’t be as bad as you think,” Constantine promised her as he lifted the veil. “It does not have to be this hard. You make it this way.”

She glared and glared and glared and flinched as his hand traced her bare arm. She was too pale now. She’d been locked away from the sun for too long. Now her skin was as white as the ripped wedding dress.

“You’re a queen now,” he said, like it comes as an assurance. She wanted nothing more than to beat him until he stopped breathing.

“You could have all you ever dreamed of,” he said. He doesn’t know her at all. Tears formed in her eyes before she could stop them. He moved to wipe them away for her. She bit into his hand as hard as she could and grinned when she drew blood. It was the first time she’d smiled in months.

~

She was slapped violently for that, which surprised her, because up to this point he had seemed so hesitant to hit her in the face. He threatened to yank all her teeth out, replace them with dentures, and take them out whenever he decided she’d lost the privilege. 

This seemed unattractive, which gave her reason to doubt the threat. But she could not call his bluff, so she stopped biting.

One of his men whipped her back until it was bloody. She hated it. She reveled in it. She was making him so mad. 

She cried as the maids worked to cover the bruises, the skin still tender even at the soft touch of the brushes. The crying wet her face. They had to keep restarting.

There was no need to cover up the whip marks. The corset did it all on its own — coarse, scratching, irritating the unhealed skin. The maids undid her long braids. Her hair reached all the way to her waist now. 

She reached out for the scissors on the vanity and cut it all off.

~

He was mad he couldn’t pull her hair anymore. He could bunch it up by her scalp, but it wasn’t the same. His was a cold anger. He probably liked to think of it as controlled. He loved to think of himself as controlled.

“It looks good on you, darling,” Nezu said over dinner, just to piss them both off. Sabina made a gagging sound in the back of her throat. She reached for the unused knife by her right napkin and wields it menacingly. As menacingly as she could manage, which turned out to be a lot.

Nezu looked excited at the prospect of getting stabbed by her. In disgust, she put the knife back down.

“Picked a good one,” he said approvingly, just as soon as the Emperor rejoined them.

~

“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” Sabina held the saber in both hands. It was decorative, plucked straight off the wall, but it still held an edge. It could still kill. She meant to. She really meant to.

“You are unwell,” Constantine said. “You don’t know what’s good for you. You don’t know when to quit.”

She lunged at him. He gasped and darted away. She’d only missed him by an inch. She howled in frustration.

If they’d trained her, she’d have been a brilliant fighter. But they hadn’t. And she wasn’t. She left all of herself exposed for the next lunge — and he downed her.

“I’ll kill you,” she swore, with his hands wrapped tight around her throat. “If it’s the last thing I do, I swear, I’ll kill you”

“Sabina,” he cooed sadly. “Rose. All I want is for you to be happy.”

“I want you to fucking die,” she sobbed. 

It was a final hurrah, one last gift to herself. When the sobbing died down, there was nothing else left.

~

The baby came a year later. He’d stopped hitting her while she was pregnant. She did not know if this was temperance, or if it was merely because she’d stopped fighting. They’d both been reluctant to resume the old routine. The baby changed things. It was soft, pliant. So easy to break. Sabina cried when she held it for the first time, cried every day after that. It had kneaded at her chest, half-blind, sleepy. It didn’t know anything.

“Constantine?” She said softly as he swapped out the bandages. The Emperor up in surprise. She so rarely used his name. 

But when he did look, she didn’t know what else to say. The terror must have shown through her. She felt all her body was wretched, torn apart, aching. She couldn’t take anymore.

He seemed to recognize this. He never hit her again.

~

Years passed before she saw her family again. When her son is five years old, she brought him back to that porcelain city, back to her parent’s old house. Both of them dead now, the million wars ravaging even when she cannot see them. She didn’t get to go to the funeral.

She’s stopped crying so much at this point. There’s a dignity to her, one she’s managed to scrape up off the floor of the palace. She was the tough one. She always had been.

She sat up in her sister’s kitchen, drinking ginger tea, manicured nails tapping softly at the porcelain cup. Selene sat across from her, pale, as if she’d seen a ghost.

~

They wrote letters after that. Constantine had agreed to it, perhaps sensing that his wife had no bone for conspiracy left within her. She was locked into it now, more than she ever had been before.

There’s a desperation to her script. God, she was so unhappy. Selene wrote back just as soon as the mail was delivered, sent it out the same day. It was all she could do. It never seemed to amount to much.

Sabina hinted at it. Selene swore she knew the end.

There’s a flower that grows in the garden of Castle Thales. It is indistinguishable from the heritage rose, but a single blossom could kill when ingested.

When they did the autopsy, they found fifteen of them in her stomach.

~

Paris stared back at her from across the table, totally frozen. The teacup sat in front of him cold and untouched.

“She died of sepsis,” he said slowly, emphasizing each word.

Selene looked at him with such pity that he thought he might be sick.

“She died of sepsis,” he repeated, “Slowly. In the hospital. She didn’t commit suicide.”

“Paris,” she said softly, “It took a week, didn’t it? Did you see her before the end?”

He propped one elbow up on the table and hid his face in his hand.

“I was at school,” he muttered. “She was already comatose when I got there. She died the next day.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. 

And of course she said it now, thirteen years later. She wasn’t there when it happened. Nobody was. There was absolutely nothing.

“You understand, surely,” Selene said, “why I was not so devastated to hear of your father’s death.”

There was still something so haunted in her look. He couldn’t bring himself to look up from the wood whorls. He didn’t even hear her standing up. He flinched at the sudden brush at his hand, gentle as it was. She tilted his face up as if to study him.

“God, you look just like her.”

The doorbell rang. Selene startled.

“I thought you said you were alone.”

“She’s my friend.” He stood up quickly. “She’s the only one.”

He opened the door. Lorelai stood cheerily on the step.

“Look what I got.” She grinned. She held up her hand at his eye level and let the necklace dangle from its chain. At its end, the rose charm shined in the dying light.

~

On an air mattress in the cleared out living room, they laid in a tangle of limbs. Lorelai’s breath was shallow, light, pleasantly exhausted. Paris traced the flesh of her breastbone, intent, almost like he was trying to find something. He had told her the whole story, in hushed tones, in the dark.

“I don’t want to get married,” he said quietly, at the end.

Lorelai laughed under her breath.

“Paris, we were never gonna get married.”

“Yeah, I know. I just…” he trailed off. “l don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

Oh, what a question. He shrugged.

“…I took you away from your family,” he said it hushed, as if it was confessional.

“Is that how you remember it?” She laughed again. “That’s not what it was. I wanted to go. I asked you first.”

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he said, finishing the thought. What either of them thought when they first started out hardly mattered anymore. It seemed so far away now.

“Then don’t,” she said.

~

They left before the sun rose, trudging the long way, past all the grave sites.

“I guess it’s weird for me to keep this now,” Lorelai said as she studied the pendant.

“It’s just a necklace,” Paris shrugged. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

But they both knew it would always hold that weight.

The grass was frosty as if it had snowed. There was so much mist in the air. It was cool and refreshing. It was the perfect morning for it. 

They passed by another memorial site. Victims of the war that Empire was waged. An orator could list them all day and never run out of names. Paris paused to watch as Lorelai moved up the knoll and placed the pendant by the base of the stone. Not for Empire. Not for Rose. For Sabina.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @whump-queen

[sarbear94]

Because Evan-

(It’s a long one…sorry not sorry 😘)

Okay…. I’ve been rewatching some old Buddie scenes because of the potential of Eddie moving back to El Paso and…. excuse my language but…. What the fuck?

It’s like the writers are new or don’t know what to do with Eddie anymore. Or like someway, somehow the episodes are out of order.

In THAT scene, Buck asks “he has grandparents, family” and Eddie reply’s “After Shannon left, they tried to guilt me into giving Christopher to them. It wasn’t what I wanted then, it’s not what I want now.” They then both agreed that no one would fight harder for Chris than Buck.

So WHY THE FUCK haven’t either of them gotten him back yet??

Eddie started season 7 with Marisol and Chris and everyone’s fine. Then Chris is dating multiple girls (Eddie is baffled and doesn’t know how to handle it so he asks Buck for help) and said it has to do with his mom to Buck and we get that EMOTIONAL shot of Eddie devastated after hearing this. Then proceeds to give him a letter to bring about closure for him. Eddie seemed to already have closure or at least repressed it.

Then Eddie meets Kim…. And the Eddie we have loved for 6 seasons is IMMEDIATELY GONE. He does the exact same thing that he told Buck about Christopher was not okay And needed to be fixed (he was BEGGING Buck for help).

Like, my dude, how did you think this was gonna go? You kept everyone in the dark. Your son, your best friend, your GIRLFRIEND and even Kim! What was his end goal? It doesn’t make any sense.

Like I understand that if Gavin wasn’t gonna be around next season, and you need to write him off but have him potentially come back, there were several ways you could have done that but still kept true to the characters. Have Chris go to a boarding school. Or a school trip. Or literally ANYTHING ELSE! Then season 8, keep the Kim storyline, but Chris is already gone and doesn’t witness it. Cause now that whole confession thing with Kim pretending to be Shannon and actually get closure was pointless. If they’d done that with Chris gone, he’d have the closure. Work on the PTSD crawling back up in an empty house, keep the Priest and finding Joy and then keep that for a bit and then heal.

That was a whole side tangent really for the main point I was trying to make, but why does Eddie- lose Chris, grow a mustache, grieve for not having his son, have an episode where a Priest says “let yourself have Joy,” then take it away in the next couple of episodes by saying “I’m thinking of moving to Texas” based on the words of a psycho actor??

Chris is a TEENAGER! Hell- he might still be a preteen, grow the fuck up and go parent your son. You’ve put your foot down before, why is this any different?? After a few weeks, I would have been like “nope, we’re done with this. I get I fucked up, but I’m still your dad so we are gonna talk about this and figure out some common ground.” I understand feeling guilty and not wanting to push him even farther away but you’re not even trying! Phone calls don’t show “I want you here with me,” it says “I’m okay with you being gone.”

You’re thinking moving to El Paso is a great idea… but it’s not. Your parents suck. You know this. YOU MOVED HALF WAY ACROSS THE US TO GET AWAY FROM THEM FOR A REASON! I get you patched things up slightly, but not enough.

ALSO! Why wasn’t Buck an option?!? Because of Tommy? I get because Gavin being out of the show(temporarily?) would have made that impossible but why wasn’t it even mentioned? I mean, He’s run to him before, he’s called him when Eddie had his breakdown and Chris didn’t know what to do. But like THEY HAD THE WILL, why wasn’t it even a factor in this. At the time, it felt like, at least to Chris, that Eddie was incapable of taking care of him, which means that Chris should go to Buck. Not his grandparents.

I just don’t understand what they are doing with these two. E and C. Bucks got his bisexual journey(relationship with Tommy). Bobby has multiple storylines. The Hans had the Mara and new baby storylines. Hen and Karen had the Ortiz/Mara and Denny/Halloween storylines. Athena has literally any storyline involving cops. And all those storylines make sense for each character. Eddie’s and Chris’s doesn’t. They keep pushing Eddie to be sad then happy then making stupid decisions. DEVELOP YOUR FUCKING CHARACTER! You’ve been dropping the ball since at least the network switch. Which I find super funny because yes, he does the emotional scenes super amazing but now it seems like his character is more open. He’s making more funny faces, he’s got the loose hair, he makes comedic jokes. But he’s almost(so close) to reminding me of Buck 1.0.. but it doesn’t fit with the storyline at all. At least to me…

Like does anyone agree with any of this? Am I just seeing things? Did the writers get told Gavin was leaving too late and made this story on the fly and rolled with it? Does Ryan want out of the show and they are keeping it under wraps? Like WHAT IS HAPPENING? Make it make sense!

Ps. I did not proofread this before posting so if something doesn’t make sense, let me know. I was just trying to get down all my thoughts on this. Currently me vvv

[domm1etae]

sent to tempt me - chapter one

chapter one: the first glimpse

chapter summary: Yunho arrives at his new dorm, hoping for peace and quiet, but his expectations are shattered when he meets his unexpected and enigmatic roommate

pairing: yunho x mingi

genre: smut (not yet but there will be eventually), angst, fluff, romance, m/m, non!idol!ateez, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, drama, coming of age, collage, religion

rating: 18+ (for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually) | mdni

word count: 2.2k

warnings under

collage, roommates, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, bad boy mingi and religious church good boy yunho same-sex attraction, m/m, teasing, dark themes, homophobia, self discovery, pet names, strangers to lovers, religion and religious topics, aaaand more will be added soon hehehe

 next chapter | AO3 | this fics masterlist

author's note: my first series, yaaaay! I’m so excited about this, and I hope you’ll like it. let me know how you feel about the first chapter in the comments. also, should I make a tag list for this?

Yunho grew up in a house where silence spoke louder than words. Yunho grew up in a house where everything had its place.

Every Sunday morning, he woke up to the scent of his mom’s freshly brewed coffee and the sound of his dad humming hymns in the kitchen. Breakfast was always ready by 8:00 a.m. sharp, the same time they left for church.

His family wasn’t unkind; they loved each other in the way a well-rehearsed choir loves its conductor: faithfully, dutifully, but not too loudly. The Jeongs didn’t argue or slam doors. They lived in neat, quiet harmony, with Bible verses framed on the walls and a family portrait taken at the church picnic hanging above the mantel.

Yunho always knew his role in this symphony of order. He was the son they prayed for, the one who didn’t talk back or skip curfews. At 13, he was the boy who stayed late after services to help clean up, stacking chairs and sweeping floors while other kids hung out in parking lots blasting music. He was the one teachers praised, neighbors admired, and his parents held up as an example, they always smiled proudly, calling him “their angel.”

And Yunho liked being good.

At least, he thought he did. Until the dreams started.

Dreams that left him waking up in a panic, drenched in sweat, begging God for forgiveness before he even got out of bed. Dreams that weren’t about the soft curves of a girl’s body, like he knew they were supposed to be, but about sharp jawlines, strong hands, and broad shoulders.

It wasn’t just the dreams. It was the way he couldn’t stop looking. At first, it was small things—admiring how his classmate’s uniform shirt stretched across his chest during gym class or wondering why he felt so warm when he saw certain smiles. He convinced himself it was normal. Just admiration, nothing more. But it didn’t stay fleeting.

He prayed for hours at night, whispering to God to make it go away. “Please, Lord,” he’d say, clutching the cross on his bedside table until his hands hurt. “Don’t let me feel like this.” But the thoughts didn’t stop.

He never told anyone. Not his friends, not his parents, not even the priest during confession.

He thought about telling Father Lee once. After Sunday Mass, he lingered outside the confessional, hands trembling, heart racing. But when he finally stepped inside, knees pressing into the wooden kneeler, the words froze in his throat.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” he managed, his voice barely audible.

The priest’s calm, steady reply came through the lattice screen. “What troubles you, my child?”

Yunho’s hands gripped the edge of the pew until his knuckles turned white. He wanted to say it. He wanted to confess. But the weight of it, the shame—it was too much.

Instead, he mumbled something about talking back to his parents and skipped dinner that night, too sick with guilt to eat.

Books became his escape.

Yunho discovered literature the way some kids discover a secret hideout: by accident, but it quickly became his sanctuary. He wasn’t one to seek it out; books, like distant cousins, were something that didn’t seem to fit in his world. But on a lazy summer afternoon, when his parents were busy with their own lives, Yunho wandered into his father’s study. The room smelled of old wood and dust, filled with shelves of books that always seemed too formal to touch, too thick to bother with.

It was there, buried under a stack of untouched textbooks, that he found an old copy of The Great Gatsby. The cover was faded, the corners of the pages slightly curled, but something about it called to him. There was no reason for Yunho to pick it up—he wasn’t interested in the world of the Roaring Twenties, the glamor or the excess—but something about the worn edges, the ink fading in places like a secret waiting to be unraveled, made him curious.

He sat down on the living room floor, cradling the book in his hands, the cover smooth under his fingertips. When he opened the first page, it was as if the world had shifted. The words seemed to leap off the page, weaving a narrative that was both foreign and familiar. He got lost in it: the parties, the glamour, the yearning, the tragedy. The way Jay Gatsby’s life felt so full of promise, yet so hollow at the same time.

There was something about the way words could paint entire worlds, how they could make you feel things so vividly that it almost hurt. With every turn of the page, Yunho found himself sinking deeper into Gatsby’s world, a world that was both dazzling and dark, where no one was who they appeared to be. For the first time, Yunho could relate to the idea of masks—of playing a part and feeling alone, no matter how many people surrounded you. It was as if the book had taken something deep inside of him and pulled it into the light.

For Yunho, books weren’t just stories; they were freedom.

They were a bridge to a place where no one judged him, where no one expected him to be perfect. In the pages of The Great Gatsby, there was no family name to live up to, no prayers to recite, no duty to be a certain kind of son. There was just the raw, beautiful act of existing without judgment. The characters, flawed and human, didn’t try to pretend they were anything other than what they were. They loved, they hurt, they sought something more—but they were always, in some way, authentic.

Books gave Yunho a place to escape the life he had to lead—one that demanded perfection, one that demanded silence when all he wanted was to shout. Every character, whether they were noble or tragic, flawed or redeemed, felt real to him in ways his real life didn’t. He could be whoever he wanted to be when he opened a book. He could think things that scared him, feel things that frightened him, all in the comfort of knowing it wasn’t real.

He read everything he could get his hands on—Shakespeare, Frost, Brontë. Wuthering Heights, Jane Eyre, Hamlet—the classics that made him feel like he was standing on the edge of something monumental. He fell in love with the way poetry could turn pain into something beautiful, the way prose could make even the simplest moments feel profound. Each word he read felt like an invitation to a world he was never allowed to explore in real life.

There was power in poetry. The kind of power that made you feel seen even when you weren’t speaking. A line from a poem could echo in his chest like a secret whispered into his ear—how the pain in the words felt like his own pain, and yet it was shared, universal. He began scribbling lines in the margins of his notebooks, quoting his favorite poets, trying to capture something of the way they made him feel. But his words never seemed enough. His words never seemed to touch the depth of the feeling, the longing he couldn’t explain.

In books, there was no shame. No guilt. Just characters and their stories, raw and human. No one to look at him with pity in their eyes, no one to ask questions he couldn’t answer. He was free in a way that no one ever told him he could be.

When the acceptance letter from the University of Seoul arrived, Yunho saw it as a sign.

A fresh start.

A chance to focus on his studies, to leave behind the heavy silence of his house, the suffocating expectations of his family. To be free, not just in his mind but in the world. He dreamed of quiet nights in a tidy dorm room, stacks of books surrounding him, the hum of a desk lamp keeping him company as he read well into the night. He imagined himself walking the leafy campus, the world sprawling before him—endless possibilities, untouched and waiting. He imagined being the kind of student who got lost in lectures, who lost track of time in libraries, who got so caught up in books and ideas that the rest of the world felt far away.

He imagined a life where he didn’t have to hide who he was. Where his thoughts didn’t feel like a burden. He could be a literature major, someone who was known for his intelligence, for his passion for the written word, without anyone ever asking about the things he kept hidden. No one would ever know about the turmoil inside him, the yearning that crept up every time he thought about something or someone in a way that didn’t feel right.

The thought of a fresh start was everything he’d dreamed of. It was the chance to begin again, to bury his fears in books, to embrace his studies without the guilt.

But when he stepped into his new dorm, those dreams started to crack.

The first thing Yunho noticed about the dorm was the smell.

It wasn’t bad—just different. A faint mix of cleaning solution and something else he couldn’t quite place, something organic, maybe even a little musky, like a place that had been lived in. It hit him instantly, a sharp contrast to the scent of the fresh air outside. As he stepped inside, the small living room greeted him with beige walls, mismatched furniture—an old, faded gray couch with a wobbly coffee table in front of it, and a tiny kitchenette tucked into the corner like an afterthought. The kind of space that made you think the people who built it were more concerned with efficiency than comfort.

There were two doors leading to separate bedrooms, just like the housing brochure promised, and a narrow hallway that led to a cramped bathroom. It was basic, functional, nothing fancy.

Yunho let out a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. It was quiet—blissfully, eerily quiet. The kind of quiet his mom had warned him about, the kind he’d been desperate for since they’d first dropped him off at the university.

“Call us when you get there, alright? And eat well! Are you sure you’re not forgetting anything? Don’t forget your vitamins—oh, and make sure you pack extra socks!” His mom’s voice had been a constant hum in the back of his mind the entire journey. She was always so concerned, so fixated on the little things.

His dad, quieter but just as insistent, had kept reminding him to stay focused on his studies and “be a good boy.” It wasn’t that they didn’t trust him, but they’d never really let him out of their sight long enough to be sure he could take care of himself. So, as Yunho unloaded his suitcase into his new dorm room, his parents’ voices still echoed in his head. “Eat well,” “Take care of yourself,” “Stay safe.” They said it as if every part of his life depended on their supervision.

But now, as he stood there alone in his new room, he felt a little freer than he expected. Sure, the place wasn’t what he’d dreamed of, but it was his. No hovering, no expectations. It felt… private. Safe.

He dropped his suitcase by the door and took a moment to look around. For a second, the room felt empty—like it was waiting to be filled with something, or someone. Yunho had imagined this moment a thousand times in his head, but it didn’t match what he had expected. He’d pictured coming here to study, to read in peace, to finally get a break from the pressure of his family and the silent, constant burden of expectations that never seemed to ease. Here, he thought, would be his fresh start.

Then he saw it.

A black leather jacket draped over the couch.

It looked expensive, the kind of thing Yunho had only seen in movies or on mannequins in department stores. The leather was soft and worn, creased in places where it had clearly been lived in. The silver zippers glinted faintly under the fluorescent lights, and as Yunho stepped closer, the scent of cologne hit him—sharp, musky, and a little too out of place in a room this plain.

Yunho frowned. His roommate must have arrived already.

Curious, he stepped closer and reached out, fingers brushing against the cool material. It felt smooth under his touch, almost like the jacket had been designed to be a piece of armor—something protective, something that spoke of confidence and mystery. A strange thought flickered in his mind: Who was this person?

He had barely processed the thought when he heard a voice, smooth and low, slicing through the silence.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have left it there.”

Yunho froze, his breath catching in his throat, as the sound of another voice rippled through him.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 10 thoughts

after yesterday's trees that ate people, i am curious to see where we are going. however, i have heard that this episode and the 2 after it are very good, so i am excited to see where this takes us.

post-episode review: another contender for my (now crowded) best episodes of all time list! but take us back to yesterday...

let's read the description here... oh! this happens in a coastal town in maine? are we going to see BEACH mulder and scully? oh! this is giving me many ideas!

and yes, the description also mentions a girl and a doll i assume to be evil, but hey! maine! salt water taffy! seashells! lobsters! moose! blueberries! a quaint little motel!

ah, can you picture it? oh, do i need to write some sort of vacation fic? has this seed been planted? and will it continue to grow?

let us find out!

this girl (polly) has a creepy doll. she is glaring at her mother (melissa). she must not want to go shopping. don’t make eye contact, old lady who walks by them. that child has an evil spirit. i can tell. 

“i don’t like this store, mommy” <- so does she like other stores? other grocery stores? can she sense something here that displeases her? her mother clarifies that they will only be a minute 

ohhhh, when she says she wants to go home, the doll’s eyes open. don’t care for that. AND THE DOLL TALKS?? 

poor mom sees visions of the butcher stabbing himself in the eye?? and the cart’s wheels go wild!!!

“please, don’t do this to mommy”, melissa begs her child <- so she KNOWS that her daughter and/or the doll are somehow responsible for all this??? GIRL!!! she just needs to eat!! they haven’t invented doordash yet!! how will polly get her food?? does she have to go to a different, polly and doll approved, grocery store?? or must they simply starve??

ohhh OH THIS WOMAN IS CLAWING OUT HER EYES??? WHAT IS WITH THE EYES!? 

EVERYONE IS CLAWING OUT THEIR EYES!!!! AUGH AUGH AUGH WHAT THE FUCK, POLLY????? 

the butcher (dave) tries to call 911- somehow he is able to resist the call to scratch- but the fucking DOLL IS ON THE OTHER LINE???

girl. that doll needs to be thrown in the ocean NOW. you can’t be doing this to my boy dave. 

NOOOO HE REALLY DOES STAB HIMSELF IN THE EYE 💔

bleurgh. bleeeugh. pour one out for dave.

and to think! i was just pondering saltwater taffy and the dynamics of coastal msr!!

ohhh, but this little town is so cute!!!! is scully on vacation???

OHHH SHE’S GETTING GAS FOR HER FANCY CAR IN A MAINE T SHIRT AND SUNGLASSES <3 ohhh…. ohhhhh… vacation scully… i am holding her so gently

(she must have been so excited to get that silly little souvenir shirt if she had it on before she even got there... and i love that for her)

who calls her at this hour? (as if we need to ask!)

“mulder, i thought we had an agreement. we were both going to take the weekend off” (he is fully in his office playing around with his chair) LMAOOOO

this man physically cannot relax. “right, right, right, i know. but i-i-i just received some information about-about a case” <- at least he seems self-conscious about the fact that he is breaking their agreement

AWW, SHE JUST WANTS TO CHILL 

“you didn’t rent a convertible, did you?” “why?” “are you aware of the statistics of decapitation?” <- grown ass man playing on a chair when he says this, btw. please worry about yourself.

(it is so funny how badly he wanted to hear her voice but cannot bring himself to talk about normal human conversation topics, such as the vacation she is about to embark upon)

LMAO SHE INFORMS HIM THAT SHE IS HANGING UP LIKE HE IS A SMALL CHILD!!! AND HE SEEMS SURPRISED WHEN SHE DOES

aww, the poor man is just a loser!

(reading these notes back for editing purposes and i am STILL laughing. god, he's such a nerd.

he's thinking, "hey, i know we promised to not talk about work for 2 whole days, but i missed you. do you want to talk about work? please don't get decapitated, honey. oh man, she hung up on me :("

meanwhile, she's thinking "for the love of god. just let me have a nice vacation. yes, mulder, you want to solve a mystery, but i need a break. no, i won't get my head cut off. okay, i'm saying goodbye now. GOODBYE.")

she rolls off in her convertible. which is a mustang, btw. serve. and melissa and polly nearly run her over. she looks pissed at their erratic driving.

woah! she is at the store where the eyeball gouging just took place. she finds all of the grocery store customers with blood on their faces!!!! but luckily, most seem to have intact eyeballs.

NOOO, DAVE THE BUTCHER MIGHT BE DEAD and his eyeball is very much not intact

damn. so much for a chill vacation.

(author's note: it's so funny to me how scully was not going to let this stop her from chilling. she was going to get right back to the beach after watching a grocery store full of people claw at their own eyeballs. me, i would have been calling the whole trip off and heading home after seeing such a horrible sight. her need to relax after so many years of alien nonsense is unmatched. not even demon doll could come between this queen and her vacation)

cutscene to mulder in his office, where a distinct moaning noise is coming from his TV. oh god. and he’s sitting there with sunflower seeds. LMAO?? he’s just sitting and watching.... this. not even doing anything but snacking. 

NOOOO SHE CALLS AND HEARS IT 💔 “what are you watching, mulder?” OH GOD WHAT IS HE GONNA SAY?

he claims to be watching “the deadliest swarms” <- utterly gagged at that man watching porn while just sitting in his office. stone-faced. and then lying about it. what does this say about his character?

BUT IT REALLY WAS DEADLIEST SWARMS LMAOOOO THE MAN AND WOMAN MOANING HAVE BEES IN THEIR FUCKING EYES I’M CRYINGGGGG

my asexual king. i should have never doubted you.

(author's note: still losing my mind at this as i edit, btw. i was fully convinced that mulder brought porn to his office to watch at work on the weekend, and i was thinking "well, it's not the STRANGEST thing he's done" but no. he's at work on the weekends to watch bugs sting people in the eyeballs. for research purposes. god. what a guy. i wish i could have a glimpse into if scully believed his statement or not. have they talked about this TV program before? is this what he does with his very limited time off?)

“it sounds to me like that’s witchcraft or maybe some sorcery that you’re looking for there”, he comments. “no, i don’t think it’s witchcraft, mulder, or sorcery” (said while the local policemen look on in shock at her saying those words) LMAOOO

“yeah, well, maybe you don’t know what you’re looking for”

“like evidence of conjury or the black arts, or shamanism, divination, wicca, or any kind of pagan or neo-pagan practice? charms, cards, familiars, bloodstones or hex signs, or any of the ritual tableaux associated with the occult, santeria, vodoun, macumba, or any high or low magic?” <- LMAO she said i’ve been taking notes on your theories, boy

“scully?” “yes?” “marry me” “i was hoping for something a little more helpful” <- LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO GOD. the way her face doesn’t even change while his looks SO FUCKING SERIOUS. he's in awe of her. hold on. i had to rewatch that like three times. i'm absolutely HOWLING over here.

and to be fair, had she said that string of words to me on the phone as well, i would have reacted in the same way! i cannot fault him there.

while watching the footage of what went down at the grocery store, she notices that melissa is the only one who seems unaffected. the police seem to not believe that means anything until she politely points out that maybe they should talk to melissa about the whole situation, and then she tries to get tf out of there LMAOOO she is not going to let ANYTHING interrupt vacation time!!!!

“people here say she’s a witch” “well, that’s not the first time for that accusation in these parts” <- LMAO GET HIM AGAIN FOR ME

ohhhh, the cop says that melissa was “carrying on” with dave the butcher… who is now dead… well! that is deeply suspicious!!!

a policeman named buddy is trying to call melissa while polly and the doll listen to some old timey music. polly COMMANDS her to hang up. i fear the consequences for what will happen if melissa continues her chat.

nooooo :( buddy the cop tells melissa that dave is dead… but the doll is speaking now, because polly is being ignored!!! melissa says he can’t come here, but buddy insists on coming. 

so, again, it seems melissa knows that the doll is committing the crimes….

scully arrives with the other cop, named jack, to melissa and polly's house. scully is in her killer outfit of: blazer, maine t shirt, and sunglasses. looking like a million bucks. she proceeds to do the cop's job better than he does when she notices the backdoor is wide open. 

feels so strange to see scully in jeans. i make note of this special occasion

ohhh, she’s in the little girl’s room which could be sensitive for her... but she seems fine. 

(author's note: i keep getting jarred by how much they are NOT acknowledging the whole emily plotline... here i was thinking that this child's room would bring scully to tears and she's just looking around, observing as always... the writers truly did not give a damn)

lore reveal: melissa’s husband died in a boating accident… or did he…?

allegedly, polly is autistic, and the daycare lady slapped her across the face after a tantrum!!! what!! you can’t do this!! scully seems shocked to hear of the slapping (but she keeps it very professional, as she always does) and then MORE shocked to hear that the daycare lady was knocked on the ground. by the little girl. but the cop said she never touched her.

yes, i am sure that the ghost doll can do impossible things, even attacking old ladies. the daycare lady got fired for the slapping (well, yes!) and the people call melissa a witch as a result (um... not her fault?)

(why are there so many people named melissa in this show? could we not get a little creative? did the writers only know of 3 or 4 names? crack open a yearbook or one of those baby names books that writers use, damn!)

omg, so the tea is that dave had a WIFE, but was still trying to get with melissa!!! but melissa did not want him like that. a queen who stays in her lane.

scully notices that the windows are all nailed shut. maybe melissa nailed the windows in because she was afraid of something getting out…? like an evil ghost doll?

buddy gives the girl polly some ice cream as he tries to question melissa in this restaurant. buddy offers to give melissa some money so she can get away. is this, like, a kindness thing? oh no, he’s in love with her, seems like. says he missed his first chance around. well. i guess we can never have a man doing the right thing out of sheer selflessness. this is TV, after all.

she says she has seen things… meanwhile polly is DEMANDING more cherries from the ice cream lady. (and polly has strange taste. i like those cherries too, but they're very strong; one or two will do the job)

melissa tells buddy that she saw dave dead before he died! and it wasn’t the first time!!! she saw her husband before he died, too! buddy seems to take this news better than expected.

ohhh, this lady at the ice cream counter says polly has to ask her mom for money to buy more cherries… i assume she does not have much longer to live

the doll opens its eyes IN THE RESTAURANT, and melissa says it’s time to go, knowing what is about to go down. buddy tries to give her a key to a place they used to go hunting, but NOOOOOO, the ice cream lady’s head is stuck in the ice cream machine!!!!!!!

melissa takes polly and the doll and they book it.

this is an injustice to food service professionals everywhere.

the other cop guy- the one named named jack- is visiting jane, the old lady from the very beginning of the episode who briefly made eye contact with polly. and scully is here too!!

okay, so jane immediately launches into saying that melissa is from a line of witches. cool, cool. this must be the lady who ran the daycare. scully looks amused as she slams the door in their faces and remarks on “new england hospitality” lmaooo

(she claims she's heard about it all her life, but never experienced it- is this her first journey to new england? like, recreationally, and not for work? omg! the cali girl is being exposed to the northeast! culture shock! she is learning the ways of mulder and his people!)

ah yes, we see as they leave that the sign on the door of jane’s house shows it’s the daycare. well, FORMER daycare.

scully wants to know if this lineage of witches thing is really all talk. and the policeman jack cannot figure out why he would want to bring melissa in. LMAO despite him being entirely incompetent at his job, scully does NOT WANT TO HELP I’M CRYING. she is PROTECTING HER PEACE!!!

melissa and polly pull up to the cabin buddy gave them the key to. ohhh, she doesn’t have any gear… and it’s winter up here. girl! how will they eat!!

polly wants her BED and her RECORDS, and the doll is AWAKE. so now melissa’s racing home after seeing a dead jane in her rear window!!!

back at her home, the records are going off… jane is here, for some reason, perhaps to investigate the loud noises despite there being no one home... and when she takes off the record off the player…. NOOOO, NOT HER STABBING HERSELF WITH THE BROKEN RECORD!!!!!!!!!!!!

scully is taking a nice bubble bath, trying to relax… with some classical music…. but the phone is ringing!!! she slams the door with her foot LMAO and awww she gets out and wraps her hair in a towel <3 i love relaxed scully <3

wait, hold on, what is this book next to the phone…? allow me to pause. “affirmation for women who do too much” by adrianna carrillo… now hold on, i need to look into this… 

okay, so it doesn’t seem to be a real book, but instead a play on “meditations for women who do too much”, which has a very similar book cover and was published in the 90's. huh. the more you know! i wonder if copyright laws prevented the prop team from having the real thing.

we all know that she is, in fact, a woman who does too much. so i am glad she is affirming herself.

anyway, what was going on? yes, evil doll. there's a message on the phone. she does not play it. SHE DOES TOO MUCH ALREADY!!!!

AND the policeman jack is at her door!!! noooooo, she cannot get a break!!

they find jane dead with the record player…. they're investigating at the crime scene when the cop gets a call and says "it's for you"

LMAOOO, HOW DID MULDER FIND THE POLICEMAN’S NUMBER, I’M CRYING???

(AND he says he called the hotel!! how did he find the hotel room's number?? he is a sleuth)

“hey, morning, sunshine!” he says happily (loud thumping over the phone) BAHAHA WHAT IS GOING ONNN?

he was worried about her!!! LMAOOOOO HE SAYS THEY’RE DOING CONSTRUCTION RIGHT OUTSIDE HIS WINDOW, BUT HE WAS REALLY JUST BOUNCING HIS BASKETBALL BAHAHAA

awwww, he really WAS worried... he gets separation anxiety. that damn ball of his gets good use when he is nervous!!

omg… we finally get a decent look at his wall art while he is standing there in his underwear…. it’s just houses. sort of abstract, colorful, houses. with heavy lines. hmm. i will make assumptions on his character based on this.

BAHAHA AND MULDER THINKS THERE’S A SCIENTIFIC EXPLANATION FOR HER CASE oh my gosh he thinks it’s dancing sickness KING, SHE KNOWS WHAT THAT IS!!!

why is the only thing this man has in his fridge a bottle of orange juice? and it is presumably expired, because he makes an awful face when he takes a sip, and then we see that it says “oct 97” on the carton, which i take it is not. so is this set in 98? early 98? since we just passed chrismas?

god. how has he stayed alive this long? is there some sort of cafeteria at the FBI he sustains himself with?

LMAO HE SPITS THE JUICE BACK OUT AND SHE HANGS TF UP BAHAHAAA

she has had enough!! she called this guy jack and said maybe we need to keep our minds open to extreme possibilities (gasp!) LMAOOO “okay, but aren’t you on vacation?” <- SHE NEEDS A RAISE!! MAYBE IF YOU COULD DO YOUR JOB, JACK, SHE COULD TAKE A VACATION FOR REAL!!

now polly and the doll are back at home, and OH, the doll is breathing as the two sleep next to each other. this is not something that i care for. melissa is trying to do something to stop the doll's reign of terror, but it opens its eyes and catches her…. so she cries downstairs. NO! not a dead buddy vision!!!!

LMAOOO meanwhile scully is utterly gagged at the size of this lobster she’s splitting with jack: “that looks like something out of jules verne. we’re supposed to eat that?” <- SHE’S SUCH A NERD I’M CRYINGGGG

she really is experiencing new england culture shock and it is hilarious

she’s trying to learn about melissa’s husband’s death as jack manhandles this lobster. the boat he died on is out the window…

this damn doll keeps replaying the hokey pokey over and over again. count your days, demon!!!

ohhh, buddy is here at melissa's place to take her into the station!!! and he sees the doll open her doll eyes….

scully is trying to figure out wtf went down the night melissa’s husband died, as she now talks to this grizzled old sailor who was there with him on that fateful evening

“i told my story to the chief”, he says; “people’s story’s change”, she answers <- ohhhh yeah, she IS a noir detective, yes ma’am!

omg, melissa's husband/polly's dad found that freaky ass doll in the ocean!!! it was the night before polly's birthday, so he thought it was a gift from the sea!! and he heard the doll talking…. and then the old grizzled fisherman found melissa’s husband with the HOOK THROUGH HIS SKULL BLEUGGHHH?

(this episode was funny but the gore was SHEESH)

ohhh, and he put together that the doll was involved when he saw them in the store that morning

(her phone rings) “oh hey, i thought you weren’t answering your cell phone” he’s TWIRLING the literal phone line while he calls her i’m CRYING this man is down TERRIBLE

OHHH HE IS TRYING TO FIND ANOTHER SCIENTIFIC EXPLANATION WHEN SHE ASKS IF THERE ARE ANY REFERENCES IN OCCULT LITERATURE TO EVIL DOLLS LMAOOOO

he starts explaining and then she says that she “was just curious”, probably because his heart would be broken if he knew she found a haunted doll without him. turns out there is quite a history of them in new england!

“i would suggest that you check the back of the doll for a-a plastic ring with a string on it” (she rolls her eyes and hangs up) 

LMAOOOOOO STOP my face hurts from smiling at this episode. why is he like that!

poor melissa is crying, making popcorn at the stove for the screaming polly, while BUDDY IS DEAD ON THE FLOOR!!!!!! NO MELISSA!!

she hammers the windows and doors shut even more…. but the doll cannot stand the pounding!!! and melissa sees herself dead in the window!!!! nooo!

scully and jack roll up just in time to either save the day or watch it get much, much worse. 

omfg is melissa gonna set the whole house on fire?????? but she can’t get a match to light!!!! the doll keeps blowing it out!!!

from outside the house, scully sees buddy dead on the floor!!!! and the doll won’t let melissa grab a knife!!!! but the demon doll somehow opens up the locked cabinet and gets the hammer!!!!

scully is absolutely SLAMMING herself into that door to open it, but NOOOO the doll says “i don’t like you anymore” and makes melissa take the hammer and JAM IT IN HER OWN FACE?!?!?!?!?!?

scully and jack finally break in!! scully takes the doll away from polly despite her many refusals and PUTS IT IN THE MICROWAVE?? YAAAS THE DEMON CATCHES FIRE!!!!!!!!! scully is very dramatically watching that doll burn….

(this had me absolutely CRYING. she had no time for science that day. she was on vacation. if there is going to be an evil demon doll while she is off the clock, she is going to throw that mfer in the microwave and watch it go up in flames. extreme possibilities are allowed, but ONLY when it is not her duty to save the world.)

((also laughing that the doll was able to put out matches and throw knives and make people gouge out their eyes, but scully putting her in the microwave was so unpredictable this demon had zero defense against it. that, or her catholic powers simply neutralized the evil presence, rendering the doll immobile in her godly hands. i choose to imagine it is a combination of both))

while mulder is sharpening a ton of pencils and putting them in rows back in the office LMAOOOO

scully finally returns to the basement office! she tells mulder she wants to send his famous wall poster to "some guy named jack"!!! he seems unbothered by this, whereas i was shocked! and then she denies doing any work on the case while up there, saying she was just on vacation. ah, if only we could have seen her frolicking on the beach after those incidents.

what did mulder get up to while she was away? “oh god, i mean, it’s amazing what i can accomplish without incessant meddling or questioning into everything i do” (pencils begin to fall on him from the ceiling, as we pan up and see like, 40 pencils launched up there) LMAOOO

“there’s got to be an explanation” “some things are better left unexplained” fair enough

a cutscene back to maine... NOOOO, another fisherman hauls out the haunted doll while the hokey pokey ominously plays in the background 💔

i hope he promptly tossed her back into the watery grave. let her torment some fish instead.

so, final thoughts: scully putting the doll in the microwave… she really is THE final girl, huh?

this episode was soooo silly. i loved it. mulder had no brain cells. scully took a bath and made a friend who she wants to send a poster to. she is gagged by lobster. lmaoooooooo mulder missed her SO bad, he was trying to do science to impress her, bahaha. and she had her little maine shirt on!!! the role reversal of him being the science-centered one because he wants to talk to her that badly, and her being the one willing to deal with demons for a few days also killed me.

def going on the list of faves.

i think it is so funny that she was so focused on relaxing for once in her life that she truly did not give a single fuck if that doll was possessed or not. normally she would be scrambling for explanations, and today she simply did not have the time. she wanted to take a nice bubble bath, listen to orchestral music, read her little book, and if a demon was going to get in the way of that, then she would simply stop it and move along with her roadtrip. and i think that is beautiful.

and to answer my earlier question: YES, i still want a REAL joint msr vacation fic with REAL relaxation and REAL saltwater taffy and splashing and no murder dolls, but maybe like ONE ghost tour because new england is old and spooky, and then mulder can ask if they want to get married for real and they can go hiking or some other nerd activity and be happy forever and always <3 the end!

[bumblebeerror]

Genuinely baffled to learn that there are people who think fluoride in water is poison.

I grew up on well water with no fluoride and lemme tell ya. It didn’t poison me but I had three whole teeth rot out of my head by age 5 and my favorite sweet treat was raw corn directly off the cob.

Like I didn’t eat candy outside of whatever I got on Halloween, mom took me and my brother to the dentist every 6 months, I brushed my teeth more then than I do now. I had every last one of my first set of molars drilled out and filled and the same thing happened to my adult molars TWICE. Only the second time it took 7 years of not having dental insurance while living in a house with city water instead of 2-4 years of just not having fluoride in my water.

I can’t express enough how wild it is to look at fluoride, commonly literally applied to your teeth at the dentist every six months, and assume that it is so dangerous in tap water levels that it should be removed. I don’t trust the government very much either but like. It’s legitimately more dangerous to swallow your toothpaste instead of spitting it out than it is to drink the minuscule amount found in tap water

Did. Did you know you can get it out at home. You can just literally let your water sit for 24 hours. It evaporates out just like the chlorine does. You can get it out with activated charcoal water filters. Like I don’t like the taste of chlorine so I make up cups of water with some electrolyte solution ahead of time, and then wait a day for them to get cold in the fridge and for the chlorine to evaporate. It’s so easy if you really wanted that

Like. I’m absolutely baffled. I feel like these are the same people who think Flint Michigan is being fucking dramatic about the lead in their water

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 50: Starting New

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

Jake Seresin Jr. entered the world in the early hours of a crisp March morning. The birth was quick, and Jake was by your side the entire time, holding your hand through every moment. You’d barely realized you were in labor—just a few flutters in your stomach that felt like nothing more than a mild annoyance but they were coming every 10 minutes. Cindy figured out that it was probably labor, and by the time you reached the hospital, you were already 8 centimeters dilated, ready to welcome your son sooner than you’d expected.

A few days later, you lay back in bed, content and at ease, watching as Jake moved gently around the room with your newborn son cradled in his arms. The soft murmur of Jake’s voice filled the space as he spoke to the baby, who was peaceful after just being fed. The sight brought a quiet smile to your face, your heart full at the scene before you.

Jake rocked your son gently, his words barely audible but filled with love as he spoke to the baby. “You’ve got your mom’s stubbornness, little man,” he said with a soft chuckle, glancing over at you. “And her heart, too—if we’re lucky.”

Your smile grew, warmth spreading through you as you watched them. Jake looked completely at ease, his every movement careful and tender, as though he’d been doing this his whole life. The way he gazed down at your son, his expression a mix of awe and adoration, made your chest tighten with emotion.

“He’s got your smile,” you murmured, your voice tinged with a playful lilt. Jake turned to you, his lips quirking into that familiar grin you adored.

“Think he’ll inherit my charm, too?” he teased, walking over to the bed and carefully lowering himself beside you, the baby still nestled safely in his arms.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, resting a hand on your baby’s back. “I don’t know if the world can handle two of you,” you teased back. But your tone softened as you added, “He’s perfect, Jake.”

Jake kissed the top of your head, his voice quiet and filled with sincerity. “He’s got the best mom in the world. How could he not be?”

You felt your heart swell at his words, your eyes brimming with tears as you looked up at him. "And the best dad," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "He’s so lucky to have you."

Jake smiled, his green eyes soft and full of love as he glanced down at your son again. "I think we’re the lucky ones," he said quietly, brushing a thumb over the baby’s tiny hand. "I still can’t believe he’s here."

You watched as your son’s little fingers instinctively wrapped around Jake’s thumb, the sight bringing fresh tears to your eyes. "Neither can I," you admitted, the wonder of it all still settling in.

Jake shifted slightly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on the baby’s forehead before turning to you. "You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted, you know that?" he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity and amusement in your expression. “Have I now?”

Jake’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his voice steady and sincere. “A home. A family. That’s everything I’ve ever wanted—with you.” He paused. "The day I bumped into you at that bar in Austin. I knew."

“And now?” you asked softly, your eyes searching his.

Jake’s lips curved into a gentle smile, his voice steady and filled with certainty. “I still know.”

Emotion swelled in your chest, his words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “Jake…” you murmured, your voice barely audible as your eyes brimmed with tears.

He shifted closer, his free hand reaching out to brush a stray tear from your cheek. “You’ve always been it for me, Y/N,” he said, his voice low but firm. “No matter the distance, no matter how long it took to get here—I never stopped knowing.”

You leaned into his touch, your hand resting on his leg, grounding yourself in the moment. “Even after everything we’ve been through?”

“Because of everything we’ve been through,” he replied without hesitation. His gaze dropped briefly to your son, sleeping peacefully between you, before meeting yours again. “We’ve made it through more than most people ever will. And now we’ve got him—a new beginning.”

Your heart swelled as you looked at him, your partner in every sense of the word. “We’ve got each other,” you said softly, your voice laced with conviction.

Jake nodded, leaning in until your foreheads touched. “Always.”

Thank you to all of those who followed me through this story! I can't believe how long it is and how long it took, but it has finally come to an end. Hopefully another pops into my head, so keep an eye out!

Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @callsign-barbell @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891 @smoothdogsgirl @devil-angel-winchester @alwayshave-faith

[averylegacy]

Jackson his whole life the only person he counted on was his mother. Who held his hand through the storms of her own surgeries. And Yes sometimes Jackson threw a sting over how his mother acting embarrassing him at the hospital now. Her cocky confident behavior. But at the end of the day she taught me how to love, how to be grateful for the small moments. For the constant memories of being a parent. I remembered the amount of times we watched A christmas Story at Thanksgiving cuddled on the couch. Jackson had a dad who walked out. And he wanted to love his family, he wanted to be part of every milestone. And hearing April admit it now; he was a great dad. It made a softness of a lingered smile trace along his lips. April was important to him, how she felt about him was important. And yes our relationship was messy and forever intertwined. But Jackson loved her; he knew our messy divorce both of us was to blame. Jackson was hurt, he lashed out and didn’t want to be forced to stay in a marriage because of a vow we made. He was so angry at her; when she left, despite him now understanding the distance the redhead needed. But did it have to sacrifice him? He was harboring love for her; and he knew what he wanted. He wanted her friendship; he wanted to live together and raise their beautiful little girl again. But he also knows the choice to move to Boston was hers, and yes given this heartbreaking situation he knows April was moving on a whim, she didn’t want to be reminded of every memory with Matthew; and he respected that, Jackson’s priority was to give the redhead time and space now. 

At the mention of the day our daughter was born, a smile stayed against his lips. There’s nothing the male wouldn’t do for April. “ Yeah, It doesn’t matter how strain things feel between us, I’ll always look after you. I was scared that day, when I had to be the one to hold her close not knowing if you’d make it.” Alive, to wake up and look at Harriet and himself, it reminded him of how scared he was now, Each time April landed with a scare in this very bed. “ You need to stop making crosses with death April..” He added in a serious tone, which of course was covered with the topic of his mom; the love hate relationship, and I had to defend my mom in some positions here. “ On her defense A part of me hated you during the divorce you keeping the pregnancy from me until I signed the papers. I barely slept for days because I was hurt and angry with you. But I also know now why, I just wished we would have figured our shit out before..” Shit of pull and push love, a care that ran deep. 

Even now holding the female in his arms, he felt whole. “ Don’t you worry, the cuddling is mandatory for the sleeping arrangements..” He added with softness a joke, but he also knew April she moved in her sleep the countless of times her head landed on his shoulder, his chest in the middle of the night.

continued

@iwanttheromance

Jackson always tried to be honest, Even if the truth hurt. He tried to be loyal until you gave a reason to walk. When it came to his marriage with April; he can admit now he had his own role into how we fell apart. It was easy to blame her; to blame April for leaving. For Jordan; for us losing our first baby. But I also didn’t fight for her; for us. I waited until she was ready to come home, I realized now I had disrespected her needs; what she needed for herself. Yeah I wanted to be in her corner. I wanted her to need me, the way I had needed her. Instead of holding her; of telling her we’d be okay I had ripped the rug out from under her. 

I decided it was over; and truth was it was my biggest regret. I felt I walked away too soon, that I had given up on us. That the repairs were too broken. But now in the last few months I saw I’ve been lost since our diovice. Since we signed those papers; I haven’t been the same. I might not believe in her warship of god, but when it counted Jackson had to admit God had his back. Each time he prayed when April was pushed into this situation stuck to a hospital bed fighting for her life; god had helped her; helped us. We might have our differences, but we also had a whole lot of love for each other. 

Matthew; I wasn’t defending him, I was just trying say I understood why he couldn’t get past the first marriage. If I was in his shoes; I’d walk. Being forced to see the guy that stole my almost wife the first time we went down the alter, being forced into a weird relationship with the dad of his step daughter. I had to be realistic. I wanted the redhead to feel better; I wanted her to stop blaming herself. This fallen marriage wasn’t her fault; it was doomed from the start. I wasn’t going to say the words; but I was entailed to think it. Matthew I believed did love April; but it was kinda mirable he was able to forgive. I can only offer a hand; a shoulder for her now. I wasn’t going anywhere. 

Hand locked in hers; I had inched myself closer to the bed as our hands were laced together. Thump had traced small circles around her knuckles as I heard her remark about her track record with marriages. I could brush it off with a cute quip remark but this might be the right opening for a real conversation; about our own history we both held close to our hearts. 

“ You know our marriage, we both played a role in why it didn’t work out. I.. I’m sorry for hurting you when I decided it was over. I just.. I was hurt and I just I didn’t want to feel the pain anymore. But seeing you here like this.. Even before I can’t help but wonder if I jumped the gun..” With us; but I held my tongue shut on that one; not wanting to make it awkward if this was a internal battle with myself; and not a can April wanted to open. 

Green eyes lifted to meet her gaze, teasing; it was a habit. But I was the best looking guy she’d ever dated let’s be honest. A low chuckle emitted through bare lips. “ I think someone still has the hots for me huh..?” A joke; a light hearted joke; it was easy to fall into old habits with each other. We could always count on each other. As for her release date; I had to glance to the doorway; where I did spot Bailey still lingering; probably to drop news if I allowed her to. Arching head forward I thought about the arrangement in my head; but did it make sense for us. 

“ I may be able to talk Bailey into releasing you by the weekend but only if you stay at the penthouse with me and Harriet. I don’t want you to be alone.” A sense of care in his voice; as if it was easy. He’d take care of her; Jackson didn’t trust anyone else to ensure her safety regardless of the female’s answer.