#if you think she is his abuser just reblog or comment with a yes

[prodogg]

You know Azula is one antagonist of the show, she attacks and hunts the gaang, Zuko&Iroh. She is not Zuko's abuser. She still is a villain and the "she is Zuko's abuser otherwise she wouldn't be bad/ you need to have done wrong things to get a redemption" argument doesn't fly, since her attacking the gaang,Zuko, fighting for the fire nation is what makes her a antagonist in the show and not your random ass she is Zuko's abuser BS. Her not being his abuser doesnt take away from her wrong doings lmao. Also their example of siblings are Iroh&Ozai and Lo&Li

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

The time when your father is out of the house is always the most peaceful. All the same, the anticipation of his return keeps you on edge. You never really know when he’ll be back. He could be gone for days at a time or only a few hours. With news of his new out-of-town assignment, you can at least breathe for a moment. 

He leaves without a goodbye. The word sentimental has never been used in the same vicinity as your father. You and your sisters watch him go, less forlorn than you may appear. Relief washes over you as the door closes. 

“Can we go shopping now?” Adrienne asks. She’s the youngest at eighteen. 

“We should,” you say. “Kitty, you have the money?” 

“In my purse,” the eldest assures you. Kitty, thought your mother always insisted on her full name, Katherine, is almost thirty and wears it plainly. “More than enough.” 

“We should try to buy extra in case he waits again,” you say. 

“Yeah, you always are the most practical.” 

“Can we go to the bakery?” Adrienne asks. Mr. Mulano gave me some money the other day for helping her air out her townhouse. You wouldn’t imagine the dust. I still have a rash.” 

“If you have the money,” Kitty resigns. 

“I do and I want to spend it on us. We’ll get canolis. They were always ma’s favourite.” 

You give a glum smile. Kitty is the most like your mother. The sweetest. Always thinking of others. And she looks like her too. It’s probably why you and Adrienne get in front of her when the storm starts or even why your father doesn’t tend to go after her as much as you. 

And she took your mother’s death the hardest. You grieve more for the life she lived than the life that she lost. She had a monstrous husband and three helpless daughters. She spent her days scrounging despite having a made man and was battered to the bone in trying to protect what little she had. When she died, there was no shield left between you and your father’s temper. 

“Yes, let’s go to the bakery,” you agree. “I’ll pay for coffee. I have some change in my purse.” 

You get dressed in a carefully picked outfit. It’s warm out but you wear a long-sleeved white blouse. You balance it with a tea-length beige skirt. The shirt covers the bruises mostly, though you have to blend a bit of makeup around your neck and your face as always is painted to hide the darker spots. Not much can be done for the split in your lip. 

You go out and the sunshine feels warmer than usual. That shadow still looms. His shadow. No, not your father’s. Barnes’. You’re as embarrassed as you are terrified. Why did you do that? Your father? Dead? You must have seemed so naive. That’s not how it works. 

You shrug it off and go about your day. It’s a rare occasion that you can just enjoy being with your sisters. You do the shopping first. You fill the cart with all you need, and a few extra staples just in case, then go to the bakery. 

Nova is always busy and for good reason. They have more than just coffee cakes and pastries. They have a full sit-in deli and coffee roasted in Sicily. 

You offer to sit with the cart as Kitty and Adrienne stand in line. Kitty wants to look at the delicately iced specials through the glass and Adrienne wants to be sure she only gets decaf. You’re all too happy to have a seat. 

You sit with one hand on the cart and the other on your purse. You look down at the worn leather. The brown bag was your mothers. You didn’t get a lot of what she left behind. Your father threw most of it out, though you know he hawked her jewelry when he got his new car. As much as he proclaims his love for her, he doesn’t show it otherwise. 

The bell above the door rings amidst the buzz of the closed space. They’ll have to open the windows soon to let the heat escape. You glance over carelessly at the new entrance. You snap up straight as your eyes meet the bright blue ones. As if looking for you, the boss finds you, a calm, unreadable expression beneath his dark beard. 

You stare back at him and squeeze the strap of the purse. He fixes his tie and nods his head at you. Your lashes flick in surprise. Then, he faces the horde as they start to quiet. Those ahead of him take notice nd hush, stepping aside to let him through. 

Kitty gasps as Adrienne grabs her arm and moves her away from the front of the line, giving up their turn for the mafioso strutting toward them. He stops before he reaches the counter. The entire place watches. 

“Go on, ladies,” he insists, “it’s on me.” 

You blink and shrink back against the metal frame of the chair. Your sisters don’t move at first and when they do, they use the same caution as when your dad’s huffing and puffing in the corner. They speak to the cashier in low tones and turn to Barnes. They thank him with their hands clutched. 

He placidly puts in his own order and digs out his wallet. The cashier tries to wave him off but he insists. You only catch a few words from your vantage. 

He gets his coffee first and box of pastries. You never imagined him having much of a sweet tooth. The sight of this deadly man in his dark suit in this place is absurd. He doesn’t come to collect the protection fee, men like your father do. No, he’s there for a coffee and dessert. At least, you can’t believe that it would be for any other reason. Especially not you 

It can’t be. 

He turns and struts out without a look back. You stare after him as a low murmur crawls through the bakery. You peek through the window as he passes. His blue eyes glint in your direction and his cheek dimples. Your world is small, too small for coincidences. You’re starting to think there’s more going on than just a job out of town. 

[hobicakess]

PLAYING DANGEROUS — (teaser)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: smut murder, blood and gore, Jack In The Box Hobi, corruption, workplace abuse, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, dubcon, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), black/plus sized coded reader, violence from every single aspect, police brutality, mircoagression towards woc, lawyer kim seokjin, maknae helping cause chaos, manipulation, drugs and addiction, unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday)

authors note: howdy hotties! this fic was heavily inspired by this post, i don't think it'll be 30 chapters but something about it just spoke to me and itched my writer brain. even though the mc is black coded anyone can read ofc!! I can't wait to write for this series. if you'd like a tag pls comment below. Reblogs are appreciated and check out my other works (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)

part one

There was a manic laughter that echoed through the new station. The giggles caused shivers and goosebumps to pass through everybody in the building simply because that laughter was familiar. The sounds were admitting from the little black box that sat on your desk. In horror you and your peers that happened to be close by watch the little black clown that popped from graffiti painted the box swing animatedly back and forth. Everyone in Korea knew this clown and what it meant.

“Mr.Kim is not seeing anyone right-” you push the secretary out your way causing her to stumble on her kitten heels and she watches you stomp your way into her bosses and yours office. The door opens wide slamming against the wall causing the booksvon the shelves to tremble, some even tumbling to the floor.

There he sat Kim Namjoon. He stared at you with his eyebrow raised. Some of the buttons of his black dress shirt were unbuttoned, the glass at his side was filled with brown liquid and even more books and papers laid out messily on his desk. .

With as much force as you could you throw the giggling box at him. The impact smacking him hard on the chest but with his build you were sure that it didn't do a thing. He held it in his hands flipping it over clicking an unknown button, shutting the gut wrenching sound shut off.

“ You told me if I took this story I'd be safe,*

Namjoon sighs as if you were speaking nonsense and not about life or death. “Let's be clear here you agreed to take this story when I only simply suggested it. Besides what makes you think Jack sent this?” He was right.

Maybe your coworkers thought I'd be funny to freak you out a little more since taking on the Clown killer case, still it was a sick joke that you didn't really find funny.

“Jack is locked in a maximum security prison surrounded by guards, and guns. He's not getting out anytime soon.”

The door swung open again and there stood his assistant. “Mr.Kim turned the news on!”

Grabbing the remote he clicks on the TV that was mounted on the wall of his office. The screen lights up showing a familiar smoking building. Your heart began to speed up in rhythm as you stare at the headline

Serial killer Jack In The Box escapes from Hangsang Maximum security prison

The screen flicks again to the dark red writings on the wall that used to be his cell.

‘See you soOn honey bunches 🃏’

And that was the last thing you saw before you tumble to the ground.

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

[obsidianpen]

What's so great about Harrymort, anyway? This ship basically consists of Stockholm syndrome, power inequality, and abuse. The same can be applied to Tomione but I understand that last one and I even started to appreciate this ship a lot. Hermione is the character most similar to Tom, if she had the ambition that Tom had, she could have become something similar to Voldemort in canon. But beyond that, Hermione is someone Tom/V could respect and have as an ally. She is someone who would be able to rule alongside him, and everyone would benefit from that, since she is fair and good. Also if Tom/V had her by his side, he would be a more stable version than the one in canon. So.. I understand why you like this ship so much but.. the more I think about Harrymort the more I feel disgusted. Harry is not a character that people respect and fear, he is just Harry. Just that. Some random boy. There's nothing special about him, and if it weren't for the horcrux he would already be dead since chapter 1 of the books. Tom/V is a prodigy, one of the most powerful wizards in the books, he wouldn't be interested in someone so ordinary. But let's say yes, that Tom/V is interested in Harry precisely because he is common and average, since they have a similar background - This is difficult to happen, V is not an empathetic character but let's pretend so - and because of the horcrux, of course it's because of the horcrux, that's the only reason, the only thing that makes Harry stand out among the others -not even that came from him lol so sad- If our hypothetical scenario happened, Harry would be a toy for Tom /V -he already is- "ah, but the fun is in how much Harry fights, he was going to fight, that's what he is" oh yes, this argument is the favorite of the Tomarymort fans, huh? He wouldn't be able to fight forever, this character has been in fight or flight mode since the beginning, he'll get tired eventually, V would be able to break him, and do you think V is the type to keep things broken? I don't think so. My point is Tomarymort is a ship that explores abuse, toxic and destructive relationships, physical and psychological torture, Stockholm syndrome etc. And that's fine if you like it but I think we can all agree that this ship and love should NEVER be put in the same sentence . Because love and respect would never exist between these two characters. No matter how good the writer is, some things just don't work. Just become them ooc, that's what happens most lol

Preface: I’m breaking this one down point by point, and then I am never responding to anything similar ever again. I will also not be posting anonymous responses to this. I hate being the middle man for a tumblr shipping war, so I’m not going to participate in that. If you want to respond, you can leave a comment or reblog it into your own page. 💖

What's so great about Harrymort, anyway? 

The drama, the intensity, the wrongness, the clashing of opposites, the most extreme version of enemies to lovers…

This ship basically consists of Stockholm syndrome, power inequality, and abuse. 

In some fics sure, yeah. But these are all really interesting - terrible, yes, but super interesting to dive into. There is a reason people like to read/watch psychological thrillers, horror, etc. I don’t feel like I should have to explain this very massive, common human drive, so I won’t. Go google it!

The same can be applied to Tomione but I understand that last one and I even started to appreciate this ship a lot. 

Cool, you like these things too! And you’re completely allowed to prefer Hermione to Harry. Whatever you want to read.

Hermione is the character most similar to Tom, if she had the ambition that Tom had, she could have become something similar to Voldemort in canon. 

Strong disagree here - she did have that ambition imo, she just… wasn’t evil, and she became Minister of Magic in canon, so. Pretty ambitious and somewhat similar, just in the legal, ‘good’ way.

But beyond that, Hermione is someone Tom/V could respect and have as an ally. 

Mm, no, she was a muggleborn, so in canon, a LOT of major shifts would have needed to happen for her to simply not be killed, or maybe tortured a hunch for fun, first, before eventually… being killed.

She is someone who would be able to rule alongside him, and everyone would benefit from that, since she is fair and good. 

Again, LOTS of things would have had to happen in canon for this to be even remotely possible. Unless you’re imagining some kind of AU where Tom Riddle is the same age as the trio, and they grow up together and can therefore influence each other on more equal footing…? But that’s Tom, not canon Voldemort, and you started this referencing Voldemort.

Also if Tom/V had her by his side, he would be a more stable version than the one in canon. 

Uh, would he? Assuming we’ve jumped over the impossible canon hurdles to get Hermione by Lord Voldemort’s side, by the time Hermione is even in the magical world, he’s been a bodiless spirit with a shredded soul for years. It would be a tall order for Hermione - or anyone - to make him more stable. I like arguing that Harry could sort of manage this in canon because of the horcrux connection, but that’s me making things up that are FAR from canon, and Hermione doesn’t have this. 

So.. I understand why you like this ship so much but.. the more I think about Harrymort the more I feel disgusted. 

Cool, your feelings are valid! You should probably stop thinking about Harrymort for your mental health. You can block tags/keywords/etc on tumblr so that you see less of it.

Harry is not a character that people respect and fear, he is just Harry. Just that. Some random boy. There's nothing special about him, and if it weren't for the horcrux he would already be dead since chapter 1 of the books. 

Well, that’s not true, imo. Harry was the best at Defensive Magic, he was an amazing flier, he is brave and bold and puts his life on the line for others without question - even people who don’t deserve it and who tried to harm him, like Draco. Those are all extraordinary traits that maybe some people make the mistake of ignoring and underestimating. 

Tom/V is a prodigy, one of the most powerful wizards in the books, he wouldn't be interested in someone so ordinary. 

If not for the horcrux, maybe not. But also, maybe. We don’t know what Harry would have been like if he grew up with a normal happy healthy family. Maybe he would have thrived in many ways, and he would have gleaned some interest. But even without that, see above comment to take note of some of Harry’s traits that he has despite growing up in an abusive home. Voldemort said himself that he values bravery. 

But let's say yes, that Tom/V is interested in Harry precisely because he is common and average, since they have a similar background - This is difficult to happen, V is not an empathetic character but let's pretend so - and because of the horcrux, of course it's because of the horcrux, that's the only reason, the only thing that makes Harry stand out among the others -not even that came from him lol so sad- If our hypothetical scenario happened, Harry would be a toy for Tom /V -he already is- "ah, but the fun is in how much Harry fights, he was going to fight, that's what he is" oh yes, this argument is the favorite of the Tomarymort fans, huh? He wouldn't be able to fight forever, this character has been in fight or flight mode since the beginning, he'll get tired eventually, V would be able to break him, and do you think V is the type to keep things broken? I don't think so. 

None of this logic adds up to me. How can you say all this about Harry and not apply it to pretty much everyone else, including Hermione? Voldemort WAS far from empathetic. Canonically. And yeah, sure, no one would be able to fight forever. But if anyone has a fire that would last an infuriatingly long time, I’d argue that it would be Harry. 

My point is Tomarymort is a ship that explores abuse, toxic and destructive relationships, physical and psychological torture, Stockholm syndrome etc. And that's fine if you like it but I think we can all agree that this ship and love should NEVER be put in the same sentence . 

Obviously this depends on what the story is. If it’s a story that explores all those former themes, then it’s probably not a lovey dovey romance anyway. But there are definitely stories that don’t have all those dark subjects, and if someone wants to write a platonic romance where the word love shows up between these two, more power to them! But you don’t get to say everyone in the world can never do a single thing in their fiction. People can write whatever they want! And you get to decide not to read it! Everyone wins.

Because love and respect would never exist between these two characters. No matter how good the writer is, some things just don't work. Just become them ooc, that's what happens most lol

I feel sorry for you. Where is your sense of curiosity, open-mindedness? Maybe you could never write these things convincingly, but some people are more talented than you (don’t take this too personally; no matter how good we are, there are always people more talented than us). It’s okay to not like things and to avoid them based on your comfort level/interest/etc etc, but just because you’re not looking doesn’t mean that such amazing jaw-dropping works that make you believe in the unbelievable aren’t out there.

💖

[blitzwhore]

I just saw Blitzø get called Stolas stockholm victim I can't with this fandom anymore😭

😂 As outrageously incorrect and stupid as that take is, I'm going to go on a tangent here. I hope you don't mind.

I think every fandom has annoying people with awfully terrible takes in it. People with zero media literacy. People who hatewatch. People who think they're entitled to the exact show they would've wanted, which has nothing to do with the actual, existing show.

This is especially true for queer media, and especially true for queer cartoons. (Hi, yes. I was active in the Adventure Time, Steven Universe, Voltron, and She-Ra fandoms when those shows were airing, respectively. I've seen some stuff). Some people just can't handle queer cartoons, period. If the queer characters/ships are soft and wholesome, they're infantilising and boring, and if they're complex and nuanced and actually have conflict, they're abusive and problematic. You'll hear the same recycled arguments over and over again. Like, the shit some people are saying about Blitz and Stolas after The Full Moon? Is literally almost word-for-word what they said about Catra and Adora post-season 3 of She-Ra (and even at the end of the show).

Here's the thing, though! Those people and their bad takes are not what I want to think about what I think about a fandom. Those aren't the people I want to call the fans. They don't deserve that title. Not when so many other people are out there dedicating their time to making gifs and art and meta posts, and writing fic, and commenting/reblogging to show support, and sliding into people's DMs to scream and squee together about a thing they love.

At the end of the day, "fandom" is just a lot of people each doing their own thing. Which people you engage with and allow to stay within your line of sight will determine your fandom experience. Fandom can be a huge, convoluted, online space full of people who are constantly arguing with one another and whose takes make you unfathomably angry... Or it can be you and your 5 friends and mutuals who scream gleefully at one another in 2-note posts. You can't control what others post online, but you can control your engagement with it.

How? Well, here's what I personally do to avoid getting upset by people's stupid opinions online:

Filter 'critical' and 'anti' tags (eg. #anti stolitz #anti vivziepop #Helluva Boss critical #HB critical #vivziepop critical). Many people actually do tag their critical posts because they know it's the respectful thing to do!

If I come across a post that has one or more of those tags, obviously, I don't click through to see it under any circumstances.

If I stumble across a stranger's untagged post with hate/criticism that upsets me: I stop reading and BLOCK. Immediately. I don't look back. I don't finish reading. I don't engage. I just block block block. I <3 the block button, seriously.

If I feel my mind reeling from a bad take I just came across: I take a step back, close my phone, breathe, remember life is beautiful sometimes. Go back and watch an episode I really like. Clean my living space a little. Vent about it to a friend (but only if I really need to, because if not, I'd rather not dwell on it).

If I'm starting to feel the need to reply to someone's bad take (directly or via my own post), I instead make the decision to channel that energy into making fandom posts out of love. (I don't do this just with fandom. If I see something transphobic online, I usually react by reblogging a bunch of trans art or trans positivity posts on my main, for example). I like to think of it as putting some positivity out into the world to compensate for the negativity I just saw. So, for example, if I see someone shitting on my blorbo, I may make a silly post just saying how much I love blorbo. Or I'll make (or draft) a post about how interesting I find some of blorbo's actions. Or reblog another person's positive/interesting post about blorbo.

And finally, I stay the hell away from Twitter. Or at least, if I go on Twitter, I try my best to avoid any tweet that has text in it instead of just art. Even the people who have good opinions spend too much time arguing with the people who have bad opinions on there. I don't want to see people's bad takes! No, not even while reading founded and perfectly articulated criticism of those bad takes! So I just limit my time on Twitter. And again, if someone is putting bad takes on my TL (even if it is to counter them), I unfollow and block as needed.

All this to say, yes, it really fucking sucks to read the opinions of people who don't understand and who hate the characters and ships and worlds you love. Gosh it's the worst. But you can curate your fandom experience. You can focus on the things you can control. You have the power to decide if your fandom experience is draining or fun!

And because I don't know how to finish this, here, have a Stolitz kiss to heal you:

We will keep winning and there's nothing the haters can do about it. 😌

[justwhisperingfantasies]

The One That Got Away

Characters: Reader, (Y/N and nickname babe[s].) Jensen Ackles. Jared Padalecki. Misha Collins. Mark Sheppard. Ruthie Connell. Rob Benedict. Richard Speight Jr. Kim Rhodes. Osric Chau. Matt Cohen. Alexander Calvert. Briana Buckmaster. Eric Kripke. Lily (o.c) Abby (o.c) Emily (o.c) Mention of Karl Urban

Warnings: Domestic Violence And Mental Abuse. Angst. Mention Of  Cheating. Mention Of Pregnancy Loss. Mention Of Blackmailing. Drinking. Language. Jensen Being An Ass. Reader Being Bitchy. Let Me Know If I Missed Any.

Summary: You thought you had left Supernatural and Jensen in the past, but almost 6 years later you get roped back in when your job is on the line.

Word count: 6,145

A/N: I've had this idea in my head for some time now. Finally got the chance to write it out. Hope y'all enjoy it. 💗

Please don't copy my work and post it elsewhere.

Like, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated 💗

You took a deep breath with your hand on the handle of the thick auditorium door. You can do this you thought to yourself. You haven’t been to a supernatural con in almost 6 years, and you didn’t think you’d ever be going to one another one. You push the doors open and the sounds of the crowd almost burst your eardrums. Everyone was talking, and excited, but your stomach was doing backflips the whole way to your seat. You felt so out of place. You thought about turning around and leaving, but you had a job to do and would get it done. You made it to your seat. First row, right in front of him. Your designated seat in the past. Of course, Eric would buy that seat. You rolled your eyes as you sat down. 

Rob Benedict walks out on stage after his other bandmates. The crowd went absolutely bunkers. “Alright Vegas, are you ready?” Rob asked. The crowd went wild. You let your mind wander as Louden Swain starts their setlist.

Year 2006:

“I don’t think I can do this.” A nervous Jensen admitted walking up to the curtain on the stage between you and Jared.

“Jay, you got this,” Jared assured him.

Jensen took a deep breath. “Did you get the seat?” He looked over to you.

“Yes, I’ll be right in front of you. When you get nervous or overwhelmed just look down and I’ll flash you or something.”

Jensen let out a laugh lifting his face.

“Um, (y/n) I’m feeling a bit nervous too. “ Jared professed

You and Jensen glared at him. “I think you’ll be alright.” You told him walking over to the  stage entrance

“You guys got this.” You kissed Jensen on the cheek. “I love you both.” You then kissed Jared on the cheek. “Have fun!!” You said as you turned to walk away.

“Love you too.” They said at the same time. You could hear the boys talking, but you couldn’t make out the words.

Lily was standing by the wall. She started walking with you as you passed. “Are you ever going to tell him how you feel?” You rolled your eyes and looked back at Jensen.  He blew you a kiss and mouthed thank you. You nodded and gave him a smile.

“Probably not.” You said facing forward and continuing walking.

“Why the hell not?! You two would be so cute.” You sighed. “I mean you’re practically dating already.”

“Lily, leave it alone.” You said as you got to the door. You pushed the door open and walked into the auditorium, energy pulsating through the air as the fans waited for Jensen and Jared to come out on stage. You found your seat and sat down. Lily sat down next to you. They came out behind the curtain dancing as the band played their intro song. 

The band starts playing Anyway You Want It by Journey bringing you out of your memory. “You guys really for them?” Rob asked and then started to sing the lyrics. Your heart hastens and you can hear it in your ears. Of course, Jensen and Jared come through the curtain dancing like the total goofballs that they are. Some things just never change you thought to yourself.  You didn’t realize how much you missed this and them, the 3 of you were so close. Now you are just one of the ex-cast personal assistants of Supernatural. It broke your heart when you left the set, but it broke your heart more to be around him daily. They do their famous stage jump with Rob as the band hits the last chord.

“Should we make this official?” Richard Asked.

“Yes,” Jared answered, and Jensen nodded his head.

“Las Vegas and the surrounding counties, please welcome Mr. Jensen Ackles and Mr. Jared Padalecki.”

They bowed and sent kisses to the crowd then pointed at each other. “Have at ‘er boys,” Richard says as he shakes their hands and heads off the stage.

“Thank you to... Wait what was his name?” Jared jokes. Rob whispers in his ear. “Err Speight. Thank you, Richard Speight.” The microphone starts whining and the boys start holding their arms out and spinning them trying to get it to stop. Rob realized he had left his mic on, and he ran back on stage to turn it off.

“It's fixed! It’s fixed!” He yells at them as he runs back off stage.

“Rob Benedict, everyone!” Jensen says as he looks down. You didn’t think he could see you with all the lights pointed at him, but his jaw dropped and then his face lit up. He got Jared’s attention and pointed right at you. Jared yelled your name and waved. Welp, I guess he saw me. The microphone starts whining again, and they make a close encounter joke. Jared makes the theme noises.

“Hi, guys!” Jared said after the whining sound stopped.  They welcome and thank the crowd after a lot of friendly banter between them. Then after some talk about Jared’s party patches.  They finally get to questions. After three questions you hear yelling and cursing coming from the section to your right.

“FUCKING SAM AND DEAN. YOU ALWAYS DID LOVE THEM MORE THAN ME.” He yelled, slurring his words. You could tell he’d been drinking. "I BRING YOU TO THIS STUPID CON THING AND YOU DON’T  PAY NOT ONE OUNCE OF ATTENTION TO ME. IT'S ALL ABOUT THESE PRETTY BOYS"

“Sir.” Jared tried to diffuse the situation.

“WHAT ASSHOLE?”  Jensen rose to his feet. The man said as he stood up. “I’LL WHIP YOUR PRETTY BOY ASS?”

You quickly jump out of your seat and motion for Jensen to come to you. He walked over and squatted down.  “Where’s Abby?”

Jensen looks around and points at her as she walks up to you.

“Hey Ab. I think the boys should go backstage until this is handled.”

“You can still read my mind (y/n)” Abby handed you a crew pass “Here take the boys backstage. I have a feeling we will  have to call the police.”

“No,” Jensen said.

“Jensen please, we don’t want some drunk hurting you or Jared.” You tried to convince him.” And God forbid you catch an assault charge because of him.”

“I’m not gonna fight.” You raised an eyebrow at him. “I won’t start the fight.

“Please” You pleaded.

“I SHOULDN’T HAVE LET YOU COME TODAY. YOU AREN’T A GOOD WOMEN. ALWAYS PUTTING SAM AND DEAN’S PUSSY ASSES BEFORE YOUR HUSBAND. WHAT A WHORE.”

 Jensen’s jaw tightened and he jumped back to his feet. You yelled at Jared, you pointed at him then Jensen, then to the backstage area.  Jared walked up and nudged Jensen “Come on man. Let’s go backstage and let security handle this.”

Jensen put his mic up to his mouth. And the crowd gasps. “Listen, guys... Hey!!” Jensen yelled into the microphone. The man had backhanded his wife, and you look over in time to see the man trying to rush the stage.  A hurtful cry comes through the speakers as Jensen throws down his mic and jumps down from the stage. You caught him before he got far. You put your hands on his chest and tried to hold him back.

 “Jensen please.” You pleaded as you struggled. You grabbed his face with both hands and made him look at you. “Come on please.” His jaw was still clenched, and his fists still held tight fists, but he stopped fighting you.  “Ross.” His eyes dropped to yours and he wrapped his hands around your wrists. “Let’s go backstage.”

“One second.” He said looking over your head.

“Jens..’”

He cut you off. “I’m good, Babes.” You guys watched as the security guards zip-tied the man’s hands behind his back and took him into the lobby. “he’s gone. I wanna make sure she’s ok.”  He grabbed your hand and started walking. Your feet didn’t move.

“I’ll go, but I can’t.” You shook your hand out of his. He looked at you with disappointment in his eyes and slowly nodded. “Come on.” You started walking up the aisle and he followed you.

“Is she ok?” Jensen asked Abby once you got to her. Jared walked up beside you and tugged on your hair. You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“I’m ok,” the lady said as she held her cheek.

“I think we should still have the EMTs check her out, Ab” Jared said

“Yes, they are on their way now. “

Jensen sat down in the empty seat beside her. “What’s your name?”  Taking the icepack from Abby and putting it on her cheek.  Abby walked to the aisle to talk to one of the police officers. They started pulling witnesses for their statements.

“Uh. Em. Emily” she stuttered

“You sure you’re ok, Emily?” She turned pink when Jensen said her name.

“Yes, I am fine.”

The EMTs walked up. “Will you let them check this out?”

“It’s really not necessary, Mr. Ackles.” She reassured him.

“Please for me?” she nodded. You rolled your eyes, and Jared nudged your arm with his elbow. You looked at him with knitted brows.

“Be nice." He whispered. You felt the urge to roll your eyes again but held it back. Jared tilted his head and started walking. You took the hint and followed him “I was scared there for a minute.” He said after you guys walk a couple steps away.

“Yeah, me too.” You confessed.

“I swear you’re the only person that can get him to calm down when he’s that pissed off.”

“Aw is he immune to the puppy dog eyes, Padalecki?” you teased.

Jared rolled his eyes. “Not yours apparently.”

“Trust me. It’s been proven that he is.” Jared furrowed his brows, but you just shook your head and walked away.

Well, I guess Jensen never told him you thought as you walked back to stand beside Abby. Jared followed.

The EMTs looked her cheek over and determined there were no fractures or teeth damage, but there

might be a slight bruise. “Thank you,” she said as they packed their bags up.

“Not a problem.”  They said as they walked away.

Just then a Police officer walked up “I think we got statements from just about everyone. Did you guys see anything?” He looked at you then Jensen, Then Jared.

“Yea. We were on stage. You could tell he was drunk the way he was yelling. He started cussing, threatened him.” He pointed at Jared “I could see her lips moving, I assumed she was trying to get him to calm down, and then he slapped her.”

The officer turned to Jared. “Yeah, that’s what I saw too.”

The officer turned to you. “I didn’t see it, but I think it’s obvious what happened.”

“Ma’am, can I have a word with you.?”

The woman looked so nervous. “Want me to go with you?” Jensen asked her.

“Oh no, Mr. Ackles. You are supposed to be answering questions right now.”

“It’s Jensen.” He looked at you.

“I can go with you if you want Emily.”  You offered.

“You don’t have to do that.” She said.

“I really don’t mind, come on.” You gestured for her to go ahead.

He nodded and got up. “Thank you,” she said as she passed.  You walked with her out to the lobby and the boys went back to the stage.

As you walked into the lobby Emily started looking around. “Ma’am we put him in the backseat of the cruiser. He can’t hurt you now.”

She started to tell the officer what had happened. Her voice started to crack, and you put your arm around her shoulders for support. You helped her get through everything and then she explains this isn’t the first time. Your heart broke for her. “Would you like to press charges?” She looked at you.

“It's up to you, but if it was me I would. You don’t need that in your life.”

She looked back at the officer. “Yes sir.”

“Ok well, you probably paid a pretty penny for this show, so go enjoy and you can stop by later. I’ll be there all night. If you need anything before that here’s my card. Don’t hesitate to call.” He handed her his card and walked back over the door with you two. She thanked him as he opened the door. “No problem.”  

“You can have my seat, I can watch from the sides.”

“You really don’t have to.” But you were already leading her passed where she was sitting.

“Hey, there she is!” Jensen said into the mic as he noticed the two of you. “Everything good?” you gave him a thumbs up as you her to your seat and sat her down. They continued asking questions.

You took a knee in front of her “Let me see your phone.” You put your number in after she handed it to you. “There’s my number if you need anything text me, ok?”

“Thank you (y/n) for everything.”

“you’re welcome, Emily. Have fun,” you walked to the side of the stage.

Abby was standing there. “Let her through.” She told the security guards. You thanked them as they let you through the gate. “Just like riding a bike huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“So why are you here?” You looked at her with wide eyes. “Not that I’m not happy to see you. I just thought you were done with the whole Supernatural scene.”

“Work. “

“Ahh, how is the big boss?”

“He’s alright. Stressed at the moment.”

“Ha. When is he not.” Someone called for her over the walkie. She took a couple steps back. “Hey, I gotta go check on something in the back. Can you wrangle the boys and get them to their photo op for me? I bet they’d love that.”

You sighed “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” She turned and walked away. You watched Jared and Jensen answer questions and joke with their fans. Richard and Rob came back on stage seeing the last question song.  Jensen started singing with them as Jared moved their chairs and brought the fan onto the stage. The lady was so excited. After joking with the boys she asked her question. The boys answered. They hugged and thanked her. Richard and Rob started singing again. Jensen joined in after hugging the fan.

“I just wanna say guys we wouldn't be anywhere without you.” Jensen nodded along as Jared continued. “So thank you. We love you. See ya later guys.” They both wave and blow kisses. Jensen points at you and then to the back. You nod and head that way.

“(Y/n)!!!!” Jared yelled as he ran down the hallway to you. You were in his arms twirling around before you could even say anything.

“Jared, put me down.”

“One more time.” Jared spun around one time and put you down. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming today?”

“Well, it was kind of a hasty decision. Lily was supposed to come, but she had a family emergency. So I got sent here.”

“Why?” Jared asked.

“For me,” Jensen said.

“ Ya know you could just say yes and make my job a lot easier.” You said turning to him

"Yeah, but what’s the fun in that.” You rolled your eyes as he chuckled.

 “ Well, well, well. Look who it is.” Richard said dramatically as he walked up behind Jared.

You smiled. “Oh my gosh, it’s Richard Spade Jr” You mispronounced his last name on purpose.

“I never knew how much I missed that until right now.” He said walking towards you with open arms. You stepped towards him returning the gesture. “how long has it been?”

“5 and a half years,” Jensen answered in a dejected tone.

“Damn. Well, you look great, my dear.” He said as he released you.

“Thanks. Spade you don’t look awful yourself.”  

He chuckled. “A bunch of us are going down to the bar for drinks tonight. You should come. I know everyone would love to see you again.”

“Eh,” Jared shot you his puppy dog eyes. “Damnit Padalecki! I’m in.”

Richard turned to Jared with his fist up. Jared bumped it with his. “see you guys later.” Richard said as he walked away.

“So, photo op?” you asked. You spun on your heels and started to take a step.

“Yeah, but I gotta grab something real fast. I’ll meet y’all there.” Jared said. You sighed quietly as he walked away.

“So, this isn’t awkward,” Jensen said sarcastically.

“Pretty sure talking about how awkward it is makes it worse. “ You started walking.

“I tried to call you. “ Jensen said catching up to you.

“I know.” You admitted.

“so you were ignoring me.”

“What did you expect Jensen?”

“Yeah. “ He sighed. “I get it.” You walked in silence for a couple minutes. “ How have you been?”

“Good.”

“That’s all I get?” He grabbed your arm stopping you. “ Look I know I fucked up and I know you hate me, but if we are going to work together again we are going to have to find a way to be civil with each other.”

“If I hated you I would have let you get arrested today.” He gave you a little smile.

“But twice Jensen.” He gave you a puzzled look. “You fucked up twice.” You said heavy-hearted and continued walking.

“Damnit Jared Where are you?” you thought out loud as you whipped your phone out of your pocket.

“I’m sure he’s close,” Jensen said trying to calm you down.

“ Call Jared.” You said into your phone.

“I’m right behind you. (y/n) calm down.” Jared yelled from behind

“I’m not even working this event and y’all are gonna get me in trouble.”

“Nice to see you haven’t lost your Texan roots there, sweetheart,” Jensen said and you glared at him.

You opened the door, and the long line of people started cheering. Abby was already there. “You guys are late.” Jensen and Jarod walked up to the backdrop and started greeting fans.

“It’s the tall one’s fault.” You said standing beside her

“Somethings never change. You sure you and Jensen weren’t making out in the hallway again.”

“Abby.” You said through gritted teeth

“Sorry. Sore spot got it.”

“Is that?” You heard an angel’s voice with a Scottish accent.

You turned around. “Ruthie!”  she started walking quickly toward you and you squeezed her tight meeting her halfway. “Ruthie I am so glad you’re here.” You tried to hold back the tears.

“Come with me, love.” She kept one arm around you and took you to the hallway. “What’s going on? Are you back?”

“No. I’ve been working with Eric on The Boys. He wants Jensen to play this part. Eric sent me here to try to convince him to say yes.”

“Why the hell would he send you with everything that happened?”

“Lily was supposed to come, but she had a family emergency. He didn’t have anyone else. Plus, I get to see all of you guys. So, it’s really not that bad. Jensen and I just got in a little tiff before we came out here and being face to face with him again. Even after 6 years. And I’m pissed off it still hurts.” A tear rolled down your cheek.

“I know Babes. “She hugged you again. “Are you gonna be able to work with him again, if he does say yes?”

“I’m gonna have to. I’m finally writing Ruthie. You sighed. “I wish that night never happened. I should have kept my big dumb mouth shut.”

“They say it’s better knowing than not.” She sighed. “But I think that’s a bunch of bullshit.” She said making you chuckle. “I wish there was something I could do for you. my dear.”

“This helps. “

She squeezed you tighter. “I know this is hard for you, but I am very glad to see you. These things aren’t the same without you.”

You smiled. “I miss you too, where were you headed?”

“I have a panel in a few minutes.”

“You should go I’ll be fine.”

“Everyone is going out tonight.”

“I know. Richard and Jared already got me to agree to come.”

“You sure you’re, ok?” you nodded. “I’ll see you tonight.” She hugged you one more time and kissed your cheek.

“Have a good panel,” you said, and she smiled at you as she walked out the door. You leaned your back on the wall and slid down until you hit the floor.

You heard the door open, but you didn’t look up. Misha sat in front of you with his face in his hands.

“Whatcha doin'?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Just admiring this hallway.”

“It’s a very nice hallway, but I think you’re lying.”

“Misha, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

He stood up and put his hand out “Ok then, Let’s go drink.” You smiled and took his hand. You forced yourself not to look in Jensen’s direction as you and Misha made your way through the lobby.

“So, I have a question.” You said hopping on the barstool. “How did you know I was in the hallway?”

“A little bird asked me to come check on you.” he got the bartender’s attention. “You still drink your whiskey neat?”

“Yes, please. Are you done for the day?”

“Yep. I’m all yours,” he ordered your drinks. “How is work?”

“It’s going well. I am a paid writer now Mish.”

“(y/n)!! That’s incredible, kiddo. I am so proud of you.”

“How’s everything with you?”

“Good. Gish is going to start soon. I am writing a poetry book, and Vitoria and I are working on a cookbook,”

“Fun. How’s Random Acts?”

“Oh, it’s great. Thank you, by the way. Don’t think I don’t notice your monthly donations”

“No thanks needed. I’m happy to help.” The bartender sat down 2 whiskeys in front of you  “You drinking whiskey now?”

“I do occasionally and I’m not gonna let you drink alone.” You clicked glasses with him and you both took the shot. “I should go slow though. It’s been a while.”

You tapped your glass when the bartender looked your way, he nodded and poured another round for you. “Thank you,” you said as he sat the second glass in front of you.

“Well, I see we are pre-gaming over here,” Richard said as he walked up to you.

“Have to if I gotta deal with the Supernatural cast tonight.” You teased

“Oh, come on. You know you miss us Ms. Paid writer.” You gave him a puzzled look. “Jared told everyone all about it.”

“Of course he did.” You sipped your drink this time.

Richard sat down on the other side of Misha and ordered his drink. Misha leaned back in his chair. “Don’t be mad. He’s happy for you. We all are. “

“I know.”

As the events of the day ended more of the cast and crew walked into the bar area. “You want another one?” The bartender asked you.

“Um, I’m gonna slow down. I’ll take a bud light.” The bartender went to get you one “I don’t wanna get Bello drunk.”

Misha and Richard laughed. “Do you remember the first year we went?”

You smiled and nodded “When Jared almost got arrested?”

“Jared almost got arrested?” Richard asked.

“Rich you should have seen him. He was so trashed. He kept screaming...”

“BELLO” you and Misha yelled and then started laughing.

Just then you felt arms wrap around you from behind. “I didn’t believe Ruthie, but you are here.”

“Oh. Mama Kim? You stood up and squeezed her.

“THE PARTY IS HERE!”  You heard from the doorway. You look over to see Jared, Jensen, and Mark walking in the door. Everyone laughed. Jensen looked you in the eye and you could see his concern. He raised his eyebrows, and you nodded letting him know you were ok. The bartender sat your beer in front of you stealing your attention.

“Thank you.” The bartender nodded. Your eyes went back to the same stop, but he was already on the other side of the bar.

“(y/n) You’re already 2 whiskies in?” Jared asked.

“Misha ordered them.” He looked over at Misha who just shrugged. “Better catch up Padalecki.”  You teased.

You jumped as a piercing scream pierced your eardrums. ��Y/N!!” You didn’t even have to look you know it was Briana. She ran up to you and practically jumped on you. “Oh my god! Look at you. You look so great and pretty.”

“And deaf now. Thank you.”

“You’ll be fine. Tell me everything. Kim told me you have a new man” Briana was still yelling.

You looked at Kim “I do?”

“Well last time I called you, you were with a man.”

“Karl?” you started laughing. “No.”

“Well, you guys were out to lunch. At a very nice restaurant.”

“Oh, my alert the media.” You rolled your eyes. “Doesn’t mean he’s my new man.”

Your eyes scanned the room and stopped at Jensen who was sitting alone. “Jared.”  You pulled him down to you. “Go sit with him.” You whispered into Jared’s ear.

“Or you guys can pin what the hell is going on between you and we could all hang out like old times.”

“Jared.”

“Come on, B. For one night. Please.” He put his lip out. “Don’t make me bust out the puppy eyes again.”

“I hate you.” You looked back to Jensen. He did look lonely. Damnit. “Fine.”

“Yes!!” He said waving over Jensen.

Jensen looked at you. You rolled your eyes and motioned him over. He smiled and jumped up.  “So, what are we talking about?”  Jensen walked up to the group.

“Apparently (y/n) has a new man,” Richard said.

Jensen raised his brows. “Oh really?”

“Well, apparently if I have lunch with a guy that means I’m fucking him.”

He smirked. “Good to know.”

“(y/n) do a shot with me.” Briana requested handing you a glass.

“Oh, come on.”

“Can’t handle your liquor anymore?” Jensen teased. You glared at him, clinked her glass with yours, and took the shot. He smiled.

“A table just opened guys. Come on.” Jared yelled, everyone walked over to the empty table. You stood in place and watched them. You really missed this. 

Kim nudged you, “You alright babe?”

“Yeah.” You grabbed your beer and headed over to the table.

“Babes!!” Mark yelled.

“Did you really just notice she was here?!” Jared turned to him

“Shut up Moose.” He said as he walked around to hug you.

“How are you, love?” Mark asked as he squeezed you.

“I’m good. How are you?” you said as he released you.

“Good. The babies are getting big.”

“Yeah, I saw the pictures in the group chat. They are adorable.”

“Thank you. When are you gonna have a couple rugrats?”

“Gotta find a good guy first.”  You glanced at Jensen who was glaring at the tv on the wall. I wonder if he heard.

“Yeah not many of us left,” Mark said and you chuckled. 

“(y/n) over here,” Jared called out panting the empty chair between him and Jensen. You didn’t want everyone to ask questions, so you had no choice but to go sit down. Fucking fantastic you thought. Ruthie and Rob finally made their entrance and grabbed extra chairs to sit at the end of the table. Ruthie raised her eyebrows and tilted her head toward the bar.

You took the last drink of your beer and stood up. Jared looked at you, “Refill. Dude chill. I’m not gonna make a run for it.”

Jensen huffed. “Well, ya never know.”

You laughed in frustration and leaned down to Jensen’s ear. “I’m trying really hard here.” He smiled. “For Jared and Jared only.” His smile faded, “Unless you want everyone to know the real reason why I left I’d shut up if I were you.”

“Yeah, I’ll take another beer. Thanks, babe.” He said loud enough for everyone to hear.  

You rolled your eyes. “Anyone else?”  A couple of people raised their drinks. You walked up to the bar and Ruthie joined you. “I’m gonna punch him.”

She laughed, “I don’t think that’s the best course of action there babe.”

Everyone cheered as Alexandra, Osric, and Matt walked in.

“Where y’all been?” Jared asked walking up behind you.

“Got caught up.” Osric lied.

“That means they were hitting on some babes in the lobby.” You turned to face the 3 boys.

“be right back,” Alex said and walked to the bathroom

Osric’s face lit up. “Oh my god. Babes.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you off the ground. He spun as he squeezed.

“Damnit, Oz. Put me down!”  he didn’t. You looked up at Jared. “What is the infatuation with picking me up?”

Jared shrugged “It’s fun.”

Osric put you down as the bartender walked over  “What’ll it be boys?”

They ordered their drinks and then the bartender looked at you. “ I got 4.”

“Hit me,” the bartender said.

“Bud Light, corona, vodka cranberry, and a long island.” He nodded and walked to get the beers.

“So what are you doing here?!” Osric asked you.

“Boss sent me.” You hopped on the barstool.

“Oh, who’s he gunnin' for?”

“Who do you think?”

Osric chuckled. “definitely Ackles if he' sends you.”

“It was supposed to be Lily, but something came up and ta-da.” You felt his eyes on you so you glanced over at Jensen. He looked away and took the last drink of his scotch and soda. You turned back around.

“How is Lily?” He asked.

 The bartender brought over the beers. “Gimme just a sec on the drinks.”

“Can you add a scotch and soda to mine please?”

“Sure thing”

“She is good. She’s a cast p.a now.”

“aw following in your footsteps.” He said. Alex came out and walked up to get his beer. “Have you met Alex?”

“No, I left mid-season 9. Right after Kevin died actually.”

“Shh spoilers.” Jared teased. You chuckled.

“It’s an honor to meet you.” Alex put his hand out.

“Umm. What? You shook his hand. “I assure you I’m nobody special.”

“The famous Babes. They talked about you so much. Especially Jensen and Jared. They really missed you after you left.” The bartender brought over all the mixed drinks.

He pointed at the boys and gave them their total, then did the same for you. “It's all on me,” Osric said and slid his wallet out.

“You sure bud?” You asked. He nodded. The bartender put the ones for the table on a try for you. “I’ll be right back Ruthie.” You took the tray over to the table and started handing out drinks. “Compliments of Mr. Chau.” They all yelled “Thank you” and he nodded.

Jensen wasn’t in his seat. He was over by the jukebox. You sighed and walked over to him. “Here.” There was a little more force behind the glass than you intended when you put it in his hand.

“Thanks, babe.” He said sarcastically. “I think you missed your calling. You’d be a great waitress.” He said passive-aggressively.

“Yep.” You said with bitchy attitude and turned to walk back to the bar.

“Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me?” He asked in the same tone causing you to stop and turn around.  “Will he fire you if I say no?”

“Take the job. Don’t take the job. I really don’t care anymore. If Eric wants to fire me because some jackass can’t get over his petty bullshit and grow up, then I don’t want to work for him anyway. “

He gently grabbed your arm “I’m the one who can’t get over it?”

You sighed. “Jensen, I don’t wanna do this here.” Your eyes started to water.

“Fine.” He grabbed your hand and led you outside and into the alley beside the hotel. “Then we do it out here.”

“Jensen.”

“What do I have to do to get you to forgive me?”

“Really you were just being a total ass in there. And now you wanna play the victim?”

“Oh, sweetheart I’m not trying playing victim. We all know I’m the bad guy.”

“Yes, you are.” You wiped a tear away.

“I’m sorry.” His voice cracked and he dropped the asshole attitude. “It’s really fucking hard to be around you. It kills me to look at you knowing that you hate me, so I put on a macho tough guy act. And I turn into an asshole.”

“How could you think it would ever be the same?” you wiped another tear. “You wanna talk about something killing you, you were my best friend. The love of my life. The one person I knew would never judge or hurt me. I could come to you about anything. I loved you with everything I had Jensen.” You looked up into his watery eyes. “How could you cheat on me?” you crossed your arms over your aching chest as you said it out loud. “And then you married her? And then the night before your wedding you came to my house. I put my heart out there again and asked you to pick me and look what happened.”

“I had to.” He said through clenched teeth.

“What?”

“She was pregnant. I had to marry her.” You took a deep breath as he raked back his tousled hair with his fingers. “She blackmailed me into the marriage. And then she lost the baby. Then I got blackmailed again.” He wiped the tears off his face. “I was blackmailed and forced to stay in a miserable marriage for Four years. Four years babe and I hated every second of it.”

“I didn’t know.” You whispered.

“I couldn’t tell you. you refused to talk to me.” You opened your mouth, and he held his hands up and you closed it. “Which was understandable. I fucked up, Hell back then you probably wouldn’t of believe me. Again understandable.” He took your tear-soaked face in his hands and started wiping them away. You tightened your arms, raising your elbows to keep the space between you. “The biggest regret I have in my life is that night. I would do anything, and I mean anything to take it back. I hate that I hurt you, I hate that I broke your trust and your heart.”  He took a deep breath. “I hate that I lost you and I’ll never be able to get you back.” You looked from his eyes at the glistening line the teardrop had left on his cheek. “My world ended when I lost you.” You looked back at his deep verdant eyes with tears escaping them. “Then we went on hiatus, I couldn’t find you or get ahold of you. I tried my damnest for 8 weeks. Every day I called everyone I could. I went to your house. Your mama’s house. Everywhere I could think you’d be. Nobody knew where you were and if they did, they wouldn’t tell me. Then I got a call saying I’m gonna be a dad. I've been in hell ever since. Seeing you in your seat today was the first spark of hope I’ve had in a very long time.”

You jumped when you heard the clanking of a trash can lid fall. “I um just um. I’m just g-g-gonna go.”

“Fucking Padalecki.” You said with a chuckle.

Jensen gave you a small smile.” Look (y/n), the last thing I wanna do is get you fired or in trouble, but I don’t know if I am strong enough to be around you every day with us in this state. I’ll call Eric first thing in the morning and tell him you tried, but scheduling conflicts or something. I’ll figure something out. I’ll make sure you’re ok though.” You nodded.  He let go of your face. “I am truly regretful of everything that I did to you and what I put you through. I really hope one day we can be friends again.”

You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do. You heard everything, but it was too much to process. You just stood there looking at the ground. “Babe.” You looked up at him. “I can’t leave you standing in a dark alley at night by yourself. Can I walk you back in?” you nodded. He gestured for you to go first and followed as you started to walk.

Ruthie and Jared were waiting for you guys by the front doors. “Hey there, love,” Ruthie said. She held her arm out. You slid under it and put your around her. Jared opened the door for you and then it shut behind you. “What happened out there ?”

“Cognitive overload.”

[maximoffcarter]

Enough for you.

Pairings: Casey Novak x Alex Cabot.

Summary: Casey Novak was not for relationships, she was not a person who went to bars and left with the first person that complimented her or bought her a drink; she was not that kind of person. But then she found herself in the same bar as Alex Cabot; how could she say no?

A/n: So...*cough* another angst cause why not. If this goes well...there might be a part 2. This was my own creation from my own mind, so my own request🤷🏻‍♀️ If you got any more requests, please send them my way guys, either on my asks box or message me privately! Hope you guys enjoy this, leave comments, hearts, whatever you like and reblog so this gets some love🫶🏻

Part 2.

*not my gif*

‘You’re still young, you should be having a bit of fun even if you’re busy with work.’ If Casey could get a dollar for each time she heard someone say that she’d be rich at this point, maybe she wouldn’t have to work hectic hours. She knew they were not wrong, she was still young, even if she had gotten a good job at White Collar, she still had a right to live and enjoy her twenties, go for drinks with friends and coworkers every night, but she truly didn’t like that life. If anything, Mary Clark had shown her better, and she was not about to disappoint her; she was willing to focus on her job, to focus on what she came to do, and that was exactly what she was here for, not to go out with her coworkers and then get home all wasted and barely being able to get through the door. Yes, she went out time to time, she was in a softball team, she went to practice whenever her afternoon was free, she had a life out of work. She knew what her coworker meant by fun, but she didn’t want that fun, she didn’t think she’d ever want it.

The last time Casey had dated someone was back when she was engaged, not too long ago, and after that, she decided that she was better off alone. That had been a big mistake, she had rushed things before even meeting the person better and she ended up not only emotionally abused but physically too. Of course she knew that not everyone was the same, she knew that maybe she could be lucky enough to find someone who would treat her right, that could show her what true love was, but she still had many scars left, she still had some pieces to put together, and she was not about to risk it again for someone that she didn’t know, and for someone that could be just like her ex. So that’s why she also preferred to go drink alone every now and then; yes, she liked her coworkers, some of them were fun to be around, but she sometimes believed that she was probably more mature than all of them together so that’s why she enjoyed her time alone.

The one time she decided to finally ignore work for a while and go out with two workers, both of them had ditched her for two guys. There was a third guy, but Casey had rejected him even before he tried to make his move. So she found herself sitting alone at the bar with her second drink in hand, wondering if it was time to go home or if she could have one or two drinks more. She knew she had work to do, maybe she could even go back to the office to pick up her paperwork and take it home along with some take out. But just as she was debating with her thoughts, she felt someone sitting beside her, and at first Casey was going to ignore it, but the strong scent of expensive perfume invaded her nose, making her turn to find a blond woman sitting right beside her. She couldn’t help but stare for a moment, finding the woman beautiful. But when she noticed she had been staring for long, she returned her stare to her almost empty glass.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Casey felt chills running down her spine at the woman’s voice, she was not expecting it…she was not exactly expecting to have any interaction with this woman or anyone at all. “Uh…I think I’m done with drinks.”

The blonde chuckled. “Seems like you do know how to count them.”

Casey nibbled on her lip as she turned to look at the blonde again, a small grin on her face. “You don’t?”

“Not when I had a hard day.” The blonde turned to look at her, offering a small grin.

“Well, then I get why you wouldn’t count them.” Casey chuckled.

The blonde nodded. “You got those days too?”

Casey nodded. “When you’re a lawyer…you gotta have them.”

The blonde raised a brow. “Seems like we got the same job then.” She grinned.

Casey squinted her eyes as she grinned. “Wait…I’ve seen you somewhere.”

The blonde chuckled as she extended her hand. “Alex Cabot.”

“Right…Sex Crimes.” Casey smiled, extending her hand to take Alex’s. “Casey Novak.”

“Nice to meet you.” Alex grinned, letting go of Casey’s hand. “White Collar?”

“Actually, yes.” Casey nodded.

“Thought I had seen you somewhere.” Alex took her drink and took a sip of it, never taking her eyes away from Casey.

Casey couldn’t help but stare into those beautiful blue eyes, almost as if they were enchanting her in some way. “So, what brings Alex Cabot into this bar?”

Alex shrugged. “Tough case. Needed a drink.”

“I don’t think I could ever do Sex Crimes. So I respect you for that.”

Alex smiled. “Well…you learn to deal with it…” she huffed a chuckle as she raised her drink. “And this right here helps.”

Casey chuckled as she nodded. “I’m sure.” She smiled softly.

No, Casey was not planning on staying more at the bar. No, she did not plan on having more drinks. No, she was not expecting to engage in a conversation with someone, let alone such a beautiful girl as Alex. She has heard a lot of things about Alexandra Cabot, some rumors, some facts, she never listened to the gossip, but when she saw Alex in a press conference and the next time she found herself in the same courtroom, her curiosity for Alex started, and now she had spent easily two hours talking about everything with her, and she was fascinated. They decided to avoid talking about cases, so they talked about other things, and laughs soon joined in the conversation, giving them both a feeling of comfort. And no…Casey did not expect for Alex to ask if she wanted to get out of the bar; actually…she figured at some point that it could happen, but what she did not expect was for her answer to be yes.

Casey moaned the moment her back hit the wall, her eyes staring into blue one as her hands worked their way to Alex’s coat, pulling it off and throwing it somewhere on the floor. Alex’s hands soon found Casey’s neck and pulled her for another heated kiss, her body pressing against Casey’s. “Alex…” she breathed out once she felt Alex’s lips traveling down her neck and finding her pulse point.

“Yes baby?” Alex whispered as she looked up to look into green eyes, panting as they stared at each other. “We can stop if you want to.”

Casey breathed heavily as she wetted her lips, her eyes landing on Alex’s swollen lips and back to blue eyes. She shook her head, a small grin on her face. “I want you to fuck me.”

Alex smirked. “As you wish.”

********************

“So, Novak.” Jessica grinned as she stood at the doorframe of Casey’s office.

Casey looked up from her paperwork and furrowed her brows. “Yes?”

“I got a question for you.” Jessica walked inside the office, the grin never leaving her face.

“No, I am not going to drink with you guys again. You left me. Plus, I’m going to the cages today.” Casey returned her attention to the paperwork.

“That wasn’t my question, but good to know that we won’t be counting on you again.” Jessica chuckled. “Why do you suddenly look so happy?”

Casey frowned, looking up at Jessica again. “I look happy?” Jessica nodded. “I…don’t think I look any different than I have before.”

“You’re getting laid, aren’t you?” Jessica smirked.

“I-“ Casey scoffed. “Jessica! What the hell? No! I’m not. I’ve been having good cases, free time, I get to do more out of work.”

“Oh, you get to do someone…”

Casey rolled her eyes. “Please get out.”

Jessica laughed as she walked to the door. “I know you, Novak!”

Casey cleared her throat as she tried to focus back on her paperwork. Yes, it was true. It had been three months since Casey started seeing Alex after work. After that night, both of them had exchanged numbers after Casey decided to leave in the middle of the night. No, it wasn’t her first time being with a girl, she had always suspected that she liked girls but never actually got with one because her parents expected her to be with a guy. So it was no surprise that she was fascinated by Alexandra Cabot. She knew she was going against her own words, saying that she was not that kind of person, that she’d mainly focus on her job, but after some drinks and engaging in conversation with Alex, she couldn’t help it; and she didn’t regret any of it. But that was it…just a hook up. Nothing more. She was not ready to get into anything serious, it could never be anything serious. She was sure she was not the first attorney to fall into Alex’s bed, as bad as that sounded, but she heard the rumors. So no, this was nothing more than a hook up and that was it.

As for Alex, she knew the rumors that went around in her own office, she knew the nickname that was now known even at the precinct, she knew her reputation, but she really couldn’t care less about it. It was nothing, they were simply rumors and gossip, she was mature enough to let it get to her, and some of them, were nothing but lied, but again, if they wanted to tell them around, they could, she knew the truth and she knew who she was, and that was it. Yes, she had her hook ups before, she had stopped once she had joined Sex Crimes since she had focused her whole attention in the job, and she barely had any time to focus on her private life. But that night, the night she met Casey, something called her in, and she couldn’t help but go against her own words but noticing how beautiful she was, that beautiful smile she had, that voice and laugh…she got lost. And she knew she wanted more. It was impossible to not want more.

“Come here often?” Alex whispered as she stood behind Casey, smirking at the way she had shivered.

Casey turned to look at Alex and smiled. “Starting to. I come to meet someone.”

“Oh, so you mind if I sit with you while you wait?” Alex grinned.

“Not at all.” Casey grinned as she placed Alex’s drink in front of her. “Thought I’d get ahead.”

“Oh, thank you.” Alex smiled as she sat down. “Had a good day?”

Casey nodded. “It was slow. Yours?”

Alex sighed before she took a sip of her drink. “Delightful.”

Casey nodded again, looking down at her drink. “That’s why you called?”

Alex furrowed her brows as she looked at Casey. “I wanted to see you.” She offered a smile. “Just needed someone to talk to.”

Casey smiled softly, looking up at Alex. “We can go to my place.”

Alex grinned as she nodded. “Sounds fair.”

It wasn’t the first time that they met at the bar, had two or three drinks, and then left to Alex’s apartment. Most of their nights went like this. Sometimes Alex would go to Casey’s office in her lunch time and make a plan with Casey to meet at night, or Casey went to Alex’s office to confirm if they’d see each other that night. It had now become a routine, for both of them, they barely talked about work, they only asked about their day, had their drinks, and then went to each other’s apartments. Casey debated with her mind daily, saying this was definitely not something she did, that this was definitely not her, but she couldn’t help it; Alex was beautiful, the way she dressed, the way she talked, the way she laughed…the way she moaned Casey’s name, the way she trembled when Casey’s fingers were inside her, the way she came undone and stared at Casey, looking so beautiful underneath her. It was impossible to not want more of that, she couldn’t get enough, and she knew Alex couldn’t either.

Alex kissed Casey’s naked shoulder as she moved to lay down beside Casey. “You good?”

Casey nodded, clearing her throat as she tried to catch her breath. “Good.”

Alex chuckled softly. “Good.” She laid on her side, staring at Casey.

Casey felt Alex’s eyes on her, making her turn to look at Alex, frowning as a smile appeared on her face. “What?”

“Nothing…you’re just beautiful.” Alex smiled.

Casey’s breath hitched as she stared  at Alex, suddenly speechless as she heard the sincerity in her words. “So are you.”

“Thanks.” Alex sighed then, moving to get up from the bed. “Guess this is my cue to leave.”

Casey nibbled on her bottom lip as she sat in bed. “You know…you could…stay. It’s late.”

Alex turned to look at her and smiled softly. “I-“ suddenly her phone went off, making her groan as she stood up and went to find her phone. “Cabot.” She closed her eyes as she sighed. “On my way.” She hung up and turned to look at Casey. “Work.”

Casey sighed. “I understand.” She stared at her the whole time as she collected her clothes and got dressed quickly.

Alex put on her blazer and turned to look at Casey, smiling. “I’ll call you?”

Casey nodded. “Yes.”

Alex bit her lip before she crawled in bed and kissed Casey’s lips. “Sleep well.” She whispered against her lips before she pecked her lips one last time and then grabbed her phone and left the room.

Casey sighed as she heard the door closing, throwing herself back in bed and groaning softly. This was only a hook up. She couldn’t have feelings for Alex, and she didn’t. They just knew each other’s bodies now, they were used to each other, they had a good fuck, and that was it. It was a hook up and nothing more. And it was going to stay that way.

********************

“Heard the news.” Alex grinned as she leaned over Casey’s doorframe.

Casey looked up from her briefcase and smiled, leaning over her desk. “Sorry if I’m gonna take some of your cases.” She grinned.

Alex chuckled as she walked inside, closing the door behind her. “I don’t mind. Not when it’s you.” She grinned.

Casey raised her brow as she bit her lip. “Oh, so if it was someone else, you’d have fought Branch or Liz?” She grinned.

“Maybe.” Alex smirked as she stood in front of Casey, one of her hands going to Casey’s waist and the other stroking her cheek softly. “But now I’ll have you closer.” She whispered softly.

Casey shook her head. “We can’t do this at work, Alex.” She whispered back.

“You sure we can’t?” Alex raised her brow.

Casey grinned as she placed her hands on Alex’s waist, turning her so Alex was leaning over her desk, moving her to sit on it. “We can try it then.”

Alex gasped, her hands gripping Casey’s shoulders. “Thought we couldn’t, Novak.” She chuckled.

“Changed my mind.” Casey smiled as she closed the gap between them, moaning as Alex’s hand wrapped around her and her hand went into Casey’s hair to pull her impossibly closer.

Alex started moving her hands down to Casey’s front, but her phone interrupted them once again. She broke the kiss and leaned her head on Casey’s chest. “Not again.” She whispered.

“Duty calls.” Casey chuckled. She kissed her forehead softly before she stepped away from her. “I need to go to court anyway.”

Alex nodded as she hopped off the desk. “Alright.”

“See you tonight?” Casey smirked. “I’d like to finish what I started.”

Alex grinned. “Sure.” She nodded before she left Casey’s office almost in a hurry, calling Olivia back.

After almost two years of knowing each other, Alex could’ve sworn that there was more between them. Some nights, they stayed in each other’s apartment after many rounds, deciding that it was ‘safer’ for them to not go back to their homes in the early hours. Sometimes they even stayed weekends together, spending the whole day in bed making each other come undone, or just simply talking about everything but nothing at the same time. Alex had been afraid to admit it, she had been in denial for so long, but the reality was…that she was starting to feel something for Casey, and it was so obvious, there was no denial. All those days and nights that they had spent together, all those laughs and smiles they had shared; it wasn’t just a hook up to her, it had become more. But the more they got used to each other, the more she noticed that Casey called her whenever she needed to get off her stress or when she had a bad day. Yes, Alex had done that the first few weeks, but after figuring out that she mostly did it because she wanted to see Casey, it’s when her whole perspective of the situation changed. But she could risk what they had if she said anything, so it was better to keep it to herself and continue as they were. What could possibly go wrong?

And as for Casey, she had been nervous when Branch had called her to his office to let her know that she’d be moving to Sex Crimes with Alex. They had figured out that more than usual, they were loaded with cases and sometimes Alex couldn’t keep up with all of them, so they figured that bringing someone to help wouldn’t be a bad idea. And now she’d be seeing Alex daily, they’d be working together. The idea wasn’t that bad, she already saw Alex daily, but not exactly in the building, now they’d be working together, not only hooking up. She was afraid that the more time they spent together, the more she would let herself get lost, and she couldn’t allow that.

The first few weeks went away so quickly. They had someone fallen into an easy routine and even met up for lunch to help each other out with the cases. Thanks to Alex, Casey was not being accepted by the squad, she knew that they were used to Alex, and Casey somehow worked in her own way and that was something that the squad hadn’t agreed on at the beginning, but with the help of Alex, they were getting used to it. For a moment, she noticed the way that Alex had entirely changed since the first time they had met; she was more…soft. Casey couldn’t deny that she liked it, but she was also not sure that she could buy it. They gave each other what they needed, they gave each other pleasure, they gave each other a space to get off the stress of the day or the week, what they had was nothing but sex. She was sure Alex wanted nothing more than that. And she confirmed it soon enough when she saw her with Olivia.

It was notorious the first day when Olivia was basically pushing away Casey, at first she thought that she had just made a bad impression, but then she saw her with Alex. She acted so differently with her, she got so close to Alex, and Alex to her, and their conversations were so easy, Olivia would do anything that Alex asked her to do, and Alex would give in to whatever Olivia asked from her, but if it was Casey, everything would be different. She noticed the way Alex seemed so relaxed with Olivia, the way she just enjoyed having her in her office, and they could stay there for hours. And that’s when Casey understood, that’s when she confirmed her doubts and answered her own questions; it was only a hook up, nothing more.

Alex smiled as she opened the door to find Casey standing there. “Hey.”

Casey smiled. “Hi.” She walked into the apartment and turned to look at Alex, waiting for her to close the door. She took her coat off and sighed softly. “Day okay?”

“It was.” Alex smiled as she turned to look at Casey. She felt something was off with Casey, so she only stood there and crossed her arms. “Was your day okay?”

“Sure.” Casey smiled. “Should we go ahead?”

Alex furrowed her brows, tilting her head. “Are you in a hurry?”

Casey huffed a chuckle. “C’mon, Alex. We both know why I’m here. So, might as well just save time and get on with it.”

Alex felt like she had been punched right on her chest as she looked at Casey. “Casey…I didn’t call you for that. I just…thought maybe we could just spend the night here instead of going to a bar.”

“We know how that ends anyway, at the bar or here.” Casey shrugged. “Or…did you call me to tell me you don’t wanna do this anymore?”

“I’m…confused as to what is happening right now.” Alex huffed a chuckle as she shook her head. “Did I do or say something?”

Casey nibbled on her lip as she looked away from Alex. “Alex…” she sighed. “Why are we pretending like this is something when we both know this is just a casual thing?” She looked back at Alex. “We’ve been doing this for so long now, we fell into a routine but…the result is the same. We end up in bed and then we start over again.”

“So…it’s just a casual thing.” Alex nodded.

“Isn’t it?” Casey raised her brows. “Tell me I’m wrong. I’m-“ she shook her head as she looked down at her coat. “I don’t really do dating. And since we started this, I made it clear. So yes…it is just sex.” She looked back at Alex with a serious look.

Alex nodded again as she looked away. “I’m glad to know now.”

Casey nodded. “Maybe we should give each other some time.”

“I think you’re right.” Alex bit her lip as she tried to avoid Casey’s stare. “Maybe you should go.”

“Okay.” Casey said softly as she put back her coat, walking to the door. She stopped for a moment to look at Alex who was still looking away. “I’ll…see you at the office.” She said almost in a whisper as she opened the door and left the apartment.

Once she heard the door closing, Alex couldn’t help the tears that rolled down her cheeks. She was afraid that this day would come, and she begged anyone that it would never come, but here she was now. She knew since the first moment that it was wrong to let herself feel anything at all for Casey, she knew that it would hurt at the end, but she still let herself get lost in Casey because she had a bit of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could be wrong and that there was a chance. But there wasn’t. Casey now confirmed it; it had been just sex and nothing more, and there was nothing else she could do about it. She lost what they had…she lost Casey.

[party-hearses]

i am a nightmare, you are a miracle // 3

do i get callous, or do i stay tender

series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

pairing: joel x ofc!reader, ex!tommy x ofc!reader (NO USE OF Y/N)

rating: explicit, MDNI 18+

word count: 8k

chapter summary: the boundaries of your new relationship with joel are explored.

chapter warnings/tags: no outbreak AU, soft!joel, age gap, alcohol, language, characters eating food, alfred hitchcock, allusions to verbal/mental abuse (not joel), dry humping (i guess?). let me know if I’m forgetting anything!

a/n: this feels very ‘slice of life’, but it’s important to me, dammit! I love each and every one of you (yes, you!) who read, comment, and reblog. this fic is my baby, and every interaction means the world to me. @nostalxgic beta’d for me, because she’s the best human in the world and I love her to pieces.

comments and reblogs are appreciated! support your creators!

There was, Joel knows, a depth to the things you had shared with him. He just doesn’t know how to piece them together.

You had led him, a proverbial blindfold over his eyes, to the darkest recesses of your psyche. Allowed him to graze those things with his fingers. Not to grasp, never to grasp, but to ghost the ridges of his rough digits against the truths they contained. Visceral and unrefined, flexing without giving, beneath his prodding touch. A reluctant invitation.

He had wanted to claw his way in. He had wanted to rip you apart, to gorge himself on your suffering. To lick your velvet bones and make his home inside your ribcage. Half heaven, half hell.

Instead, he finds himself turning your words over in his head again and again, whiskey a thick smoke on his tongue. The television is still on in the background, the light flickering across the angles of the room, casting everything in jagged shadow.

Frustration curls tight in the pit of his stomach. Understanding feels just out of reach — as if the words you had spoken had been in secret tongues. If only he could decode it.

It will take time, he knows, to learn your language. To speak the complexities, to articulate the syntax. To appreciate the nuances from the inside, wrap his tongue around the letters. It will be an exercise in patience, he is sure, but one that he will commit himself to. He hungers to be fluent in reading and speaking you, to savor the delicate flavors of your dialect.

You, the unknowable creature asleep just down the hallway. That his hands had been on; that had made his cock twitch and ache; that had looked at him with those wet, pleading eyes, desperate to be known.

He rolls the wrist that holds his whiskey glass in a circular motion, eyeing the contents intently.

Asking you to stay in his home was a calculated risk. It had been when he’d first done it, and it remains to be the longer you stay. Tommy’s involvement — even in the capacity of ‘ex boyfriend’ — makes things complicated, and Joel knows that those things will border on volatile once he finds out where you are.

Not if, but when.

And truly, Joel doesn’t know what he’ll do when that happens. He hasn’t thought that far ahead, his vision too clouded with you, you, you.

He had known, since the first time you stood in his kitchen, a case of Shiner in your small hands, that the hot knife of devotion he felt when your eyes met his would eventually destroy him. Inevitability twisting its hands into his gut, whispering in his ear to prepare for his own eventual decimation. Lamb, meet slaughter, it said.

He’d let Tommy beat the shit out of him, he thinks, if it keeps you in his proximity.

The acute awareness of it had caught him off guard. Mutual, useless damage — two unfillable voids recognizing one another from across the room. A collision of fire and the ocean floor.

You, in a little black tank top and jean shorts, the tender flesh of your thigh peeking out just below the hem. Shoulders bare, warmed from the afternoon sunlight, skin aglow. It took strength he didn’t know he possessed to not sink his teeth into you right then and there. Lick up the slender column of your neck. Feast.

Tommy, grinning and oblivious as all fuck to the cosmic shift taking place two feet away from him.

Joel wanting to slug the smugness off his younger brother’s face. He knows Tommy — knows him always as a collector of people, of experiences. Not handling things — beautiful, fragile things — with the care they ought to be handled with. Leapfrogging from one thing to the next, nothing but ruin in his wake.

And oh, how Joel wanted to ruin you — but not in the way he knew Tommy would.

Your words to him tonight make his skin itch with that same recognition. That same inevitability. Asking you to stay meant there was no going back — that you would either let him swallow you whole, or he’d die trying to.

Throwing his head back to drain the glass, he savors the burn of the liquor sliding down his throat before flipping the television off and rising from the couch. Retracing his footsteps past your room, a dull throb settles again between his thighs at the thought of your body pressed against his.

It wouldn’t be difficult, he thinks, to open your door and take. He knows you because he knows himself, and what little restraint he has left is stretched thin.

But he will be patient, because it is you. Because he knows how this ends. Because he wants you to want it, too. To need it like he does. To reveal yourself to him in your own time, fragment by fragment. To recognize the inevitability.

And so he closes the door to his bedroom, himself on the wrong side of it, knowing that that is what a better man would do. And like a better man should, he falls asleep to images of your supple skin rippling beneath him, your mouth open and wanting.

You are unknowable, but you have never been a stranger.

You’re still in your dress when you wake up the next morning.

The hem is bunched up around your waist, your panties on display for the four walls of the empty bedroom. The slippery material clings to you, flesh slick with sweat, in a significantly less flattering way than it did last night.

Everything about you is less flattering than it was last night — the shimmer and sugar of it all worn off in the sweltering light of midmorning.

With a groan, you roll onto your back, the hard edges of your phone cutting into the flesh of your hip beneath you. You can’t bring yourself to look at it, to relive the previous twelve hours of…well, everything. Hands and drinks and tongues and flesh and desire and Joel’s voice.

Something else shifts into focus from behind the hazy veil — Joel carrying you to bed. Half-asleep and just on the other side of drunk, drippingly saturnine and pathetic. The recollection of it makes your chest pinch; the most recent admission into the museum of your naiveté.

You scrub your hand across your eyes, thick black flakes of mascara crumbling off your lashes and landing on your cheeks, chalky streaks of it painted across your knuckles. A strange laugh bubbles up in your throat — you can’t even imagine how wrecked you look.

Sharp hesitancy crests your lungs, tempts you to curl up further into the blazing bedsheets, to avoid. To shrink back into yourself. You raise a hand to your still-swollen lips, delicately pressing your fingertips into their fullness, the memory of Peter’s mouth slotted over yours replaying behind your eyelids.

You wish you had been drunk enough to forget that part of the night — but only that part.

Ava’s fingers interlocked with your own, the holographic sheen of her love wrapping around you, the way all of your pain had spilled out into her waiting hands on the dancefloor. Her magic had dug its tendrils into the soft muscle of your heart, her dreamy voice in your ear an incantation: I have the best feeling about you staying with Joel.

It was those things that you never wanted to forget.

And Joel — Joel. The way he had angled his body towards you, had been so attuned to your words. The consideration in his face as he absorbed them all, brows knitted in concentration. The restless twitch of his fingers.

Him sliding his hands beneath your body, pulling you close to his chest.

Everything had poured out of you so naturally, without any of the apprehension or anxiety you’d come to call companion. The sutures you had sewn years and years ago had been neatly, delicately, untied by Joel’s nimble fingers, in a way that you don’t even think he understood. And it took almost nothing.

Like something magic.

Fire crawls across your already heated skin, not so much a realization but a possibility.

It’s the only reason you get up, and peel your dress off of your sticky body, and let the cold water of the shower chill you. Your lungs open up, the buzzing of your nerves quieting under the stream.

Joel hears the quiet patter of your bare feet on the hardwood before he sees you. The beating of his heart matches the measured pace of your steps, both quickening as the distance between you closes.

He glances sideways, pulse hammering when you finally enter his line of vision. The wet ropes of your hair cling to your neck, dripping down the fabric of your threadbare t-shirt. There’s something so cozy about it, a significant intimacy that comes with knowing you’re just out of the shower.

It’s vulnerable in a way that he’s all too cognizant of.

“Hey.”

Your voice is sweet, if not apprehensive. Testing the waters. You gently pop a hip into the lip of the kitchen counter, next to the full, still-steaming coffee pot. Joel is situated at the stove, pan of something resembling food in front of him, his own mug clutched in his left hand.

“How ya feelin’, champ?” There’s a crooked smile on his face, one that disappears behind the curve of his mug as he brings it to his mouth.

You laugh, a gentle sigh of a laugh — a laugh that invigorates his blood more than the coffee does.

“I’m actually okay. Y’know, considering.” You tip your head to the side, watching as he stirs whatever it is in the pan. A grin tugs at the corners of your mouth, seeing him cook. It’s endearing, being allowed a peek into his life.

The way his cheeks round out tell you that he’s still got the same small smile painted on his face, despite the way it’s hidden.

“Mind if I have some?” You gesture with a flick of your chin to his coffee, clocking the way his face immediately falls, eyes narrowing in your direction.

“Y’already know the answer t’that.”

Gaze darting back to the stove, he’s quick to set his coffee to the side, muttering a curse under his breath as he lowers the flame burning under the pan. You twist your body to grab a mug from the cupboard and fill it with the blazing hot liquid, crossing the kitchen to settle at the table.

The subsequent silence is companionable, and you let the coffee rouse the parts of your brain that haven’t quite caught up with you, yet. You watch the strong muscles of Joel’s back, rippling and pulling under his shirt, as he extends his arm to pull a plate down from a different cupboard.

It’s mesmerizing, the agile way he moves, so it catches you off guard when he slides the plate and a fork in front of you, steam rolling off the scrambled eggs and slices of toast.

You hadn’t even noticed him using the toaster.

“Oh,” you squeak, blinking away the surprise you know is written all over your face. “You shouldn’t h-”

“Wanted to.” It’s kind, but matter-of-fact. A stern statement to dissuade you from arguing back.

As he lowers himself into the chair across from you, tossing his own full plate onto the table, you can’t help but remember his hands on your jaw the last time the two of you had been here together.

Together.

He immediately digs into his food, shoveling it into his mouth and slurping his coffee. You drop your gaze to the plate in front of you, picking up the fork and gingerly shuffling the contents of it around.

Something close to guilt needles at your stomach, and all too suddenly the words are hot on your tongue.

“I lied to you last night.”

Joel doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look up at you — just keeps chewing and swallowing.

“Yeah?” Another bite, more chewing, swallowing again.

“I…I kissed someone. At the club.”

The confession hangs between you, though he remains as taciturn as you’ve ever seen him. It’s only when he draws his mug up to his mouth that he even meets your eyes, subtle amusement dancing in the liquid amber of them.

It’s candy Pop Rocks compared to what would have been Tommy’s dynamite.

Joel hasn’t stilled at all, continuing to drink his coffee and scoop his eggs on top of his toast.

“You…asked if I met anyone. And I lied to you.”

Toast halfway to his mouth, the small pile of eggs perched atop it dangerously close to slipping off, he pauses. His brows pull together in a question that you can’t quite read. An epiphany that you’re not privy to.

Lowering his arm, your eyes follow the eggs as they fall to his plate with a muted plop.

“Y’don’t owe me anythin’, Peach.”

Liar.

“But I-”

He shakes his head, and whatever it was that you wanted to say dies in your throat. “Y’had a reason to not tell me. And that reason belongs to you and you alone.”

You scrunch your brows together, an unfamiliar feeling building in your chest. He watches as it happens, his own chest pulling tight at the recognition of your uncertainty, of the doubt in your eyes. He’s quick to lean over the table, over the momentarily forgotten plates of food, to soothe your skin with a knowing drag of his thumb. The fork in your hand falls, clattering against the ceramic.

“Hey. Soften up, darlin’. Just don’t want you to think y’have t’tell me anythin’ y’don’t want to.” His voice is low, eyes intently searching yours. “Doesn’t mean I don’t understand why you’re tellin’ me.”

There’s something so tender about the way he tells you this, the way he touches you, that you’re sure you’ll spontaneously combust. Nothing has ever belonged to you — and only you — before. Not even your thoughts have ever been your own, the space reserved and velvet-roped for the ghosts of your shortcomings.

And you know that though Joel doesn’t quite grasp the gravity of what he’s saying, the words are bubblegum and champagne to you. Exactly, perfectly right.

“You’re good. It’s okay.” He gently brushes a still-damp tangle of your hair back over your ear, and you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is pounding. “Y’don’t always have to be so…hard on yourself.”

You’re good.

“Say it, Peach.”

Like he can read your mind. Like he can reach directly inside you, all those ties he’d undone, to extract the most vulnerable parts. Soften them. Shield them. Nurture them.

As though he can taste the desperation surging off your skin.

“I’m good.” Your own voice is so small, you hardly recognize it. The words taste bitter, grapefruit with the sugar dusted off. Unearned.

“You’re good, sweetheart,” he repeats, the rough tips of his fingers sliding along your jaw as he pulls his hand back, dropping it to retrieve his abandoned toast. “Now please eat. It’ll help.”

Hesitantly picking up your fork again, you mirror him — biting and chewing thoughtfully, humming as the toast settles in your stomach. Sipping your coffee. It’s almost easy.

Joel makes it easy.

Every now and again he flicks his eyes up to watch you, to make sure you’re actually eating, silently pleased as the amount on your plate slowly diminishes. He finishes before you do, shoving his plate forward and tipping back in his chair, fingers wrapping around his mug comfortably.

Moving the last bits of egg around the perimeter of your plate, you take the opening as Joel’s shoulders relax against the slatted wood.

“I, um, didn’t think you’d be…like this.”

It catches him off guard, a warm laugh betraying his usual stoicism. The levity of it curls around your limbs, climbs the length of your spine. “Oh yeah? ‘N what’d you think I’d be like?”

Avoidant. Brooding. Grumpy.

“Much less…pleasant?” You crinkle your nose at the word, not satisfied with it. “Or, like, you’re kind of…nice?”

This time he laughs out loud, angling his head back and opening his mouth wide. The sound of it lights you up from the inside, sparkly and hot.

“I mean…oh my god, that’s so stupid. I just mean…like, I think being here…will be good for me.”

You’re babbling now, skirting around the fact that you think being around him will be good for you. But something deep in your stomach tells you that he already knows. That he’s always known.

Dropping his head to his chest, you think you see a light sprinkle of pink break out across his tanned cheeks and nose. He clears his throat, mouth obscured by his coffee mug.

“I’m nice t’you, sweetheart.”

The remainder of the day is spent zeroed in on your work laptop, still at the kitchen table, legs stretched across the chair Joel had occupied that morning.

He had slipped out after breakfast to run errands — a few work related, a few personal — asking if you’d wanted to come. The invitation had made your heart swell, the feeling of being wanted stirring in your veins. It was hard to resist, the promise of more time with him so incredibly alluring, but you’d declined, work hanging over your head like a raincloud.

“It’s Saturday, Peach,” he’d murmured, eyeing you as you’d flipped open the slender screen of the device.

“Good thing I don’t have any plans, then,” you’d replied, clicking the trackpad to open your multiple files — budgets and spreadsheets and invoices stacking one on top of the other — thoughts turning to how much you’d rather be climbing into Joel’s truck beside him.

But he’d backed off, dropping a quick squeeze to your shoulder before leaving.

It’s not until he’d been gone for some time that it strikes you how different the interaction was with Joel than it ever had been with Tommy — no exasperation, no stomping out of the house, no argument. And you can’t compare them, you know, because he’s not Tommy, and he’s not your boyfriend —but it’s stable, sustainable. A quiet admission of knowing what you need. Of some kind of trust passing between the two of you.

A disruptive ringing snaps you back to reality, your fingers still resting on the keyboard of the laptop. The screen has gone black, an indication of the amount of time passed.

With a slight shake of your head, your eyes track to the smaller screen, your sister’s name and picture lit up. Uneasiness rolls through you, as it always does when she calls.

“Hey, Kit.” You drop your head back onto the curved wood of the chair, exhaling shallowly through your nose.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

You can hear the shrieking of children in the background, the clatter of pots and pans and running water.

“Are you doing the dishes?” It’s in your best interest to sidestep the question, her giving you the perfect opportunity to do so.

“I didn’t think you’d actually answer.”

The fingers of your other hand find the bridge of your nose, squeezing gently.

“I’ve been…busy. Work has been a lot.”

Liar sits just below your diaphragm, pendulous and dark.

“And how has living with Joel been?”

You should have known that she’d cut straight to the point. Like she always does.

“It’s fine, Kit. It’s been going really well, actually.” You can’t help but snap, the tranquil feeling of Joel’s confidence in you waning into annoyance at being treated like a child by your sister.

Beyond that, a significant part of you is determined to protect the strange, placid thing between you and Joel, whatever it is. Whatever it isn’t.

Kit sighs, but it’s soft. “I’m just calling to say hey. We haven’t talked in so long.”

“You’re calling to check up on me.”

“Is there something so wrong with that? I’m your sister.”

“Not my mother.”

You regret the words as soon as they pass your lips. You can feel her hurt seeping through the phone, from thousands of miles away. It cuts to your core.

“Kit, I didn’t-”

“You’re right. I’m not your mom. But you could at least be fucking kind to me, because I am all you’ve got.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Kit rarely — if ever — curses, and it hits you like a punch in the stomach.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, tears immediately swimming in your line of vision. “You just, remind me of her so much sometimes, and…and I…”

“Have a lot of unresolved bullshit with her.”

“Yeah.”

She’s never said the words aloud before; it’s a subject the two of you had always avoided into adulthood. The crevasse between you, wide and gaping. Hearing her say it, acknowledge it, feels like sucking fresh air into your lungs after holding your breath underwater for too long.

“Daniel! Stop hitting your sister!” She suddenly calls out, and the moment crashes down at your feet.

“Look, um, I’m working. Let’s talk later this week, okay?” You sniffle, salty tears threatening to spill over. “Love you.”

You click to end the call before she can protest.

Rubbing your hands down your face, you wish you hadn’t even answered. Talking about her is never easy, but talking about her with Kit is something you’d danced around for years.

The phone begins to vibrate again, and you almost swipe to ignore it, assuming it’s Kit angrily calling back. But it’s Joel’s name splashed across the screen, and your heart thrums with familiarity. With relief.

“Hey, darlin’.” He says when you answer, the warm timbre of his voice washing everything else out of your head — Tommy and Kit and work included. “I’m thinkin’ about orderin’ pizza, that sound okay t’you?”

“Please, that sounds great.” And it does. Easy. Low maintenance. Comfortable. Exactly what you need. “But only if we can have beers, too.”

He chuckles, the sound low in his throat. “Read my mind, Peach.”

“You’re in the same exact place you were when I left,” Joel exclaims as he walks through the door, a rack of beer on his hip.

“Money never sleeps,” you reply, closing the laptop with finality and stifling a yawn.

“Maybe not, but you need to.”

“Mmm, pizza and beer first,” you hum, pushing yourself up from the table and joining him at the counter, his hands already tearing at the cardboard.

“Anythin’ excitin’ happen while I was out?” He holds a bottle out to you, fingers grazing yours as you take it. A thrill shoots down your spine, settling between your legs.

You lean back against the sink, drawing in a deep breath before tipping the beer back into your mouth. “Nothing I’d love to revisit at this moment.”

The only thing you’d love in this moment is to bask in Joel’s magic — let it wash over you, head to toe. Erase the terrible things you’d said to Kit. Be good again.

He quirks a brow at you, but doesn’t press. Instead, he holds his phone out in front of him, a pizza app pulled up. You shake your head, pushing it away.

“I will eat literally whatever you order.”

Shrugging, he drops his gaze to the screen, thumb flicking up to scroll through the menu slowly. “Hope y’actually mean that. Might try to order a gross pizza just to call y’on your bluff.”

45 minutes later, you’re both on the couch, beer and pizza in hand, an old movie playing in the background. One of your favorites — a sprawling mansion on the English coast, a haunted marriage, the shadow of a mysterious ex-wife, Rebecca. One of Hitchcock’s best, in your opinion.

Joel is happy to oblige, love a good black ‘n white slipping out of his otherwise full mouth.

As much as you love the film, you’re preoccupied with the way the evening sun casts the room in a golden glow, and how it seems to accentuate Joel’s innate softness. A softness you feel privileged to see, to have lavished on you. You want to drown in it — let his kindness corrupt you, let him untangle you.

Selfish fizzes at your fingertips, creeps up the span of your arms.

You shift your focus to the ropey muscles and tendons of Joel’s neck, gaze climbing up his strong jaw, covered in a smattering of salt and pepper scruff, to the long line of his aquiline nose. He balances his half-empty beer bottle on his knee, fingers wrapped around the neck of it.

And if you’re being perfectly honest with yourself, you don’t want to think about anything else. You don’t want to consider what it all means, yet. You want to just exist, here, with him. Watching the way he watches the movie, the way he gulps his beer down.

Hidden from the rest of the world.

Tucking your legs up underneath your body, you let your head loll on the cushion of the couch. You’d hide forever, if you could.

You stretch your arms above you, a sleepy, dopey grin splayed across your mouth — secure glowing fluorescent at the apex of your thighs. The movem ent draws his attention, as though he’d heard your pulse cry his name.

“Tired?” His voice thick, eyes tracing the soft shape of your arms as they reach skyward.

“Mhm. But I wanna finish the movie.”

A coy, sideways smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, and he leans forward to place his pizza plate on the coffee table.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he drawls lowly, sloping back to slide his hand across your shoulders and wrap his fingers gently around your bicep to tug you closer. Turning, you meet him with wide eyes, glittering in the dark, your heart a trembling magic eight ball — are you sure this is okay?

And without words, he lets you know that it is. Lets you know that he wants you to.

Guided by his large open palm, you carefully curl into his side, dropping your head to his lap. You pull your legs up to your chest, both hands nestling narrowly under his thigh. His hand hovers over the soft curve of your hip, a barely-there touch that makes you ache.

You draw in a deliberate breath, holding it deep until he finally lets his hand drop to the exposed flesh between the band of your shorts and raised hem of your t-shirt.

A million sparks of light burst over your skin, fireworks exploding across the creamy silk of it. Your eyes flutter closed, hyper-aware of every tense of his fingers. The movie continues to play, but the whole world has fluctuated to both start and end in the exact place that he touches you.

As though there is no before this moment in time, only after.

Inevitable.

His hand slides up the length of your body, over the notches of your ribs, and higher still so that his fingers skim the delicate line of your neck. You can feel him relax further into the cushions of the couch, broad body molding to its shape, and you wonder if he’s concentrating on you as hard as you are on him.

In an answer to your unspoken question, he begins to tenderly stroke the spread of your hair, fanned down your shoulders and pooled in his lap.

“Y’know,” he mumbles, eyes still cast to the television, “we had breakfast and dinner together today.”

“We did,” you agree, a slight simper at your lips.

“‘N the world didn’t end, did it, Peach?” He angles his chin down to look at you at the same time you tilt your head to look up at him. He hasn’t stopped caressing the silky locks of your hair, and when you meet his eyes, he grasps a fistful of it gently. The pleasurepain of it makes your blood hot.

“No,” you whisper, “it didn’t.”

He leans closer by just a fraction, and you can’t help but be entranced by the shape of his mouth as his plush lips form the words that cross them.

“Want it to be like that everyday.”

He’s looking at you like there’s a peephole into your soul — a pinpoint view of the feral thing inside of you, on display for him. He’s looking at you like it excites him.

“Me too, Joel,” you breathe, the possibility a white static between you.

Not a single thing outside of the two of you exists in this moment. He prefers it that way, having you all to himself.

“Like you bein’ here, sweetheart.” There’s not a trace of hesitancy in his voice, but he says it like it’s a secret. “Like you workin’ at my kitchen table, and havin’ pizza and beer, and watchin’ old movies with you. Like wakin’ up knowin’ you’re here.”

He moves to trace the outline of your bottom lip with his thumb, and you’re suddenly looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, breathing stilted.

Closing the distance between you, he noses along the soft cut of your jaw, burying his face in your hair. He wants to drink down the way you gasp when he does; the sound burned into his brain, knowing it will come back to him when he’s stroking himself off later.

The elastic compulsion of his need so prominent, so inescapable, that the next words out of his mouth surprise even him.

“Go to sleep, Peach.” His mouth is on your ear, goosebumps rising in the wake of his breath over your skin. “‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

Taking one last deep breath of you in, he pulls back, resuming running his hand up and down the hills and valleys of your body.

The most that he’ll allow himself.

“I said some fucked up things to Kit today. She called while you were gone.”

The words fall out of your mouth, buried shame and anger spilling out with them. A confession.

Joel hums, hand still roaming, almost absentmindedly. It’s reassuring, a reminder of his words — you’re good.

“Siblings are…hard,” he suggests, emphasizing his point with a quick press of his fingers into your hip. “They get your best ‘n your worst, and don’t have a choice. It’s…safe to put the hard things on ‘em.”

“And bein’ the older one is…is…” he continues, pausing to clear his throat, voice tinged with something you can’t name, “a lot of responsibility. ‘N y’always wanna do right by them, y’know? Protect ‘em. But sometimes y’can’t. Hafta let ‘em figure it out on their own. Fuck up on their own.”

The silence that hangs in the air is charged with unsaid words. Unasked questions. Realities and consequences that neither of you are ready to explore the depths of. Guilt.

“Do you think I’m fucking up?”

“No, sweetheart. But I can’t say the same for other people.”

He squeezes your side again, letting his fingers linger just a touch longer than he had before. Dizziness snakes up your vertebrae, cloudy and disorienting. Desire. Want.

It’s a torrid kind of want, one that burrows under your skin and makes itself known. You think Joel can feel it, too, the way his touch roves over you — can feel it burn ing hot at the intersection of your skin and his.

But your brain pulls your body back, settles it to a low simmer. Reminds you to think instead of act.

And eventually, you fall asleep doing exactly that.

When you wake up later, sleep-drunk and unsure of the time, a too-bright infomercial in place of the movie, Joel is still there, just like he’d promised, head dropped to the flat of the couch, softly snoring. Chest steadily rising and falling, fingers curled into your flesh, firmly clasped just below your ribcage.

You don’t move an inch, afraid to wake him, and fall back asleep to the sound of his breathing.

A week passes. Then two weeks. And before you know it, summer winds into autumn, and the two of you slip into an easy routine — somewhat delicate, somewhat hesitant, but comfortable. And you feel silly, now, considering how naturally effortless it is. As though it could have always been this way.

And truly, that’s the hardest part to navigate. Drawing the line between what is, and what you want it to be.

Neither of you has brought up that night, at least to one another. But after you’ve gone to bed each night, you replay it in your mind, the feeling of his hands on you the image at the forefront of it; his name a whimper on your lips as your own fingers crawl beneath your panties.

Each night, wishing they were his.

It’s far too easy to overthink, second guess, dissect the way Joel’s fingers brush yours as you hand him his coffee, or the way his lips quirk up while he watches you struggle to assemble a bookshelf.

“Peach, please let me help. Promise it’ll be so much faster.”

Your indignant scowl, arms twisted over your chest in defiance. His soft laugh, deft hands picking up where yours had left off, piecing the cheap wood together without a hitch. Sitting back on his haunches, massive fingers tugging at your forearms to untangle them. The sticky warmth in his eyes when you let him.

“See? Coulda just asked me.”

Ensuring a soft landing, in every sense of the word.

The routine you’ve created is grounding, satisfying. Something to focus on aside from your intensely confusing feelings about Joel, something that pushes everything else to the back of your mind. Something to lose yourself in.

It’s not much — no caviar and lingerie and nightcaps, but it’s yours. An ardent, fulfilling thing that makes you feel steady on your feet. That makes the sharp, prodding fingers of your thoughts dissolve into a gleaming mist. Even the edges of the words in your head, the angry curvatures of your mother’s voice, bleed into nothing in the safety net of him.

The magic of it lies in its simplicity: taking turns cooking, laundry on Sundays, greetings with warm smiles even when you have to work late or spend entire evenings parked in front of your laptop. Some evenings he’ll go to the local dive with friends, some nights you’ll bury yourself in a book in your bed. The divine act of surviving.

The foundation of something, being constructed slowly from the ground up. Methodically. Each brick a meaningful gesture, word, moment.

You, being rebuilt from the ground up, at the skilled hands of Joel Miller.

A way back to yourself.

And it’s not like you don’t catch him watching you while you work, or let him drag your legs over his lap while your laptop perches precariously on your thighs on the couch. His hands are on you in some way or another more often than not, and you like it. You want it.

If only it were that easy.

If only it could be so uncomplicated — some semblance of normal.

But it’s not. And you know it never will be. So you take what you can get — reveling in the hours spent watching movies together, the errands run together, the shared jokes and spilled chinese takeout. Your own brand of normal.

And he tells you, often, how much he prefers this kind of normal — the one with you in it.

“You ‘n me, Peach, remember?”

The line a continuous, hazy blur — what is, and what you want it to be.

“Hi babe! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you, so we should go out tonight? Thoughts? No, wait — don’t think about it, we should just driiiink about it! Love you!”

Ava’s chocolate-box trill fills the cabin of your car. Rain drizzles lazily down the windows as you click to replay the voicemail, the familiarity of her elongated words and upward inflection making your heart ache. It’s not the first time she’s invited you out since what you’ve come to refer to as the incident, but it’s the first time you’ve felt genuine remorse at turning her down.

But you will do so without hesitating, the grocery bags in the trunk of your car being the only thing on your agenda for the dreary Friday evening.

Typing out a quick text to Ava (sorry babe! raincheck!), your thumb lingers over the thread just below hers. Clicking it open again, the words on the screen send a languid fire rolling through your veins.

You: I’m cooking tonight

Joel Miller: whatever you want, peach

Whatever you want.

The possibility licks hot at every inch of you.

The kitchen has become your favorite place in the house. The heart of it, the life of it. You’ve memorized every nook and cranny, each knot and split of the woodwork. The contents of all drawers and cabinets, the haphazard organization of it all.

You move around the room fluidly, exuding a sense of belonging that’s not lost on Joel. Body propped against the doorframe, he watches as you pour and stir and salt — as comfortable, as confident, as he’s ever seen you.

A bittersweet conception stirs in him, the edges of it coming into soft-focus. Before it can fully form on the screen of his mind, grow roots in the cavern of his heart, he clears his throat to get your attention.

“Peach.”

“Hmm?” You twist just enough to catch his gaze, clocking the expectant look in his eyes. Immediately laying the spoon in your hand on the counter, you face your entire body to his, matching the open expression.

“Close your eyes.”

You obey without question, squeezing them shut and unfolding your hands in front of you like a prayer. There’s the sound of his feet and a quick hiss as Joel opens and closes the refrigerator, placing something cold and dewy in your open palms. Your fingers automatically close around the curves of it.

A wine bottle.

Dragging your bottom lip with your teeth, the corners of your mouth quirk up. Your lashes flutter open, gaze sweeping over the intricate label — a golden goddess, surrounded by ribbons of different shades of pink and blue, dotted with tiny golden star details. The shiny, beveled type spells out Prophecy just below the image.

“This is my favorite.” There’s awe in your voice. Reverence. It shines in your irises as you look up at Joel, who is posted up against the counter, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Was on sale.”

He breaks into a smirk, cheeks flushing as your sweet laugh fills the space between the two of you.

“Either way,” you respond, humor bleeding into the edges of your voice, eyes rolling fondly, “mind opening it up while I finish everything else?”

Raising his hand to retrieve the bottle, he’s quick to wrap his fingers around the arches of yours. He tugs once, firmly, pulling both you and the bottle close to his chest.

It rattles the air in your lungs, the tiniest oh fanning the base of his throat. He dips his head to meet your gaze, breath punching warm across the bridge of your nose and cheekbones. It’s dizzying, the closeness.

“How’d you know?”

You’re asking about the wine. There’s two inches of space separating you, and you’re asking about the wine.

He leans down further, the slope of his nose pulling across your cheek to graze the shell of your ear. His breathing is deep, measured, in control.

“You brought’t over for dinner once. Said the same thing — was your favorite. I just remembered, that’s all.” He says it casually, as if discussing the weather. As if knowing your favorite wine is the most natural thing in the world to him. “Wanted to get you somethin’ special.”

Whatever you want, Peach.

Your fingers draw swirls against the bottle, the heat from his leeching overtop of them. His grip tightens, words ringing in your ears. You can smell his shampoo, his cologne, him. The spicy warmth of it is mesmerizing — it infiltrates your senses, knocks you off balance.

The rest of the world feels a million miles away.

“Shit!” you hiss suddenly, wrenching your hands away and spinning to remove the saucepan from the flame. “I don’t want it to scorch.”

Joel hums amusedly, hands scrambling so the bottle doesn’t slip and shatter. You then hear him begin to drag open and slam closed multiple drawers, the clang and clatter of various utensils nearly drowning out the swearing under his breath.

“Where’s the damn—”

“Here.” Using your hand not balancing the saucepan, you stretch to retrieve the corkscrew buried in the drawer closest to you, watching through your lashes as he meets your extended grasp to take it.

His gaze lingers on you a split second, corners of his mouth downturned, brows drawn low. Analyzing. Memorizing. It doesn’t last long, him turning on his heel to retreat to the kitchen table.

Something about the way he does it pulls at you, a tangle that you can’t quite find the end of. It’s kindling to the fire smoldering low in your belly, the one you’re desperate to keep at bay — the one that roars back to life as Joel carefully pours your favorite wine into two plastic solo cups.

You can’t help but watch, the repetitive glug glug glug of the liquid into the cup matching the beat of the nearly-boiling blood in your veins. A sheepish smile overtakes his stoic facade, his eyes meeting yours across the room.

“Don’t have any wine glasses.” He nods to the plastic cups, a gentle laugh at the very edge of his words.

“Wouldn’t want one anyway,” you reply, mirroring the way his cheeks round out in a grin.

You’re just spooning the pasta and sauce onto plates when he materializes at your elbow, making a grab for both dishes.

“Uh! I don’t think so!” You click your tongue against your teeth teasingly, blocking his body with yours. “You go sit. I’ll bring them over.”

“You cooked,” he protests, smooth palm grazing your ribs in another attempt to bypass you.

“So you can clean, if you’re worried about it.” Flashing another brilliant sideways grin at him, you pick up a plate in each hand and nudge him backwards with your hip.

“Yes ma’am.” It’s a capitulation, a willingness to step back and let you lead him.

The notion strikes hot against you, nestles in the aching space between your thighs. It scales your stomach, gains speed in the span of your arms, makes your fingers tremble as you set the plates on the table.

“Cheers,” you mumble, scrabbling to pick up the flimsy cup, tipping it just so in his direction before taking a sizable gulp.

As he parallels your action in bringing the wine to his mouth, you wonder if there will ever be a time when he doesn’t trigger the roiling heat in your veins.

Then again, you think, maybe you want him to stoke that in you — always.

Fingers delicate around the body of your just-refilled red solo, you make your way from the kitchen to the couch, where Joel is slouched back, legs parted. It’s impossible not to drag your eyes across the muscled heft of his thighs, to not linger on the way his jeans stretch to accommodate him. His heavy hands rest on the bulk of them, fingers spread languidly.

While you watch him, he’s watching you. You can tell by the way his digits flex and relax, callused pads pulling patterned lines over denim. Keeping his composure, despite the way the wine ignites him. Despite the way you ignite him.

The lights in the room are low, the comforting drum of fat raindrops on the glass panes of the window constant. Your limbs feel loose, a combination of Joel and the wine. There’s a record on low in the background, but you don’t know who. You’d settled on the cushions while he’d taken the shiny disc out of the dust jacket gently, dropped the needle softly, with the most care you’d ever seen, and let the smooth rhythm of it fill the room.

“You gonna cook like that more often?” It’s casual, airy. As if the walls of the room aren’t closing in on the two of you, pushing you nearer and nearer to him.

Inescapable.

You giggle — you fucking giggle — stepping over him to curl back into your place on the couch.

“If you’ll let me.”

He scoffs, turning his body to face you. “Let you?”

You smile dreamily, looking up at him through your lashes. He’s close enough that you can climb over him, bracket his thighs with yours, take his hands and drag them up the length of your body.

There’s no voice in the back of your head telling you not to, for once. No whispers admonishing you, reminding you that you’re wicked and worthless and unlovable.

So when he repeats himself, asking “let you?” in a thick voice, you do.

Your body moves before your brain has time to react — you throw one leg over his lap, hands grasping for purchase on the back of the couch for balance, situating your thighs on the outside of his. It’s a snug fit, one that opens your hips wide, the stinging stretch of it pushing you forward. You relax your core over his, the zipper of his jeans biting into the ice-cream flesh of your inner thigh.

And when your brain finally does catch up, all you can feel are his big palms cupped around the backs of your thighs, kneading the exposed flesh there. His fingertips barely graze beneath the hems of your sleep shorts, and you’re all too-aware of how close they are to your center.

There’s a satisfied hum on his lips, a knowing growl in his throat. A silent admission of how long he’s waited for you. A confession of a different kind of hunger, a kind with legs and buoyancy.

His eyes burn into yours — no traces of hesitancy, surprise, guilt woven into the golden gleam of them.

Twin masks slipping at the same time. Resolve stretched to snapping, satisfaction within tasting distance as you grind down into him — just once, desperation sliding down your spine.

“You can have whatever you want, Peach.” His voice is low, a wanton whisper that punches somewhere near your throat.

Those words again.

Whatever you want.

You’re looking down at him, his irises shining with earnestness, and you can’t help but raise your hand from the couch to card through his thick waves. But he catches your wrist before you can, bringing it down to the heat of his mouth to press his lips to your open palm without breaking his searing gaze.

You moan. At least, you think you do, though it’s a quiet, broken thing. A whine. A plea.

His thumb swipes back and forth over your wrist, your hand small in his grip. You watch through hooded eyes as he lowers it to the crotch of his jeans, your breath catching in the cavern of your chest as you feel him for the first time.

It’s somewhat surreal — the thickness of his hard cock in your palm, separated only by the material of his pants. Every fantasy you’ve harbored about him unwrapped at the tips of your fingers, his hand pressing yours into him, unforgiving and firm.

His other hand swallows the curve of your thigh, chases up your side to grasp at your hip, dragging your cunt over him. He drops his head back, repeating the action, the ropes of muscle in his neck pulled taut as he bites back a groan.

Your head is swimming — Joel’s heady scent and bruising touch combined with the wine makes everything feel soft-focus and shimmery, like a dream. You cant your hips again, focusing on the way his jaw ticks when you do, lost in watching the way his body responds to yours.

The reality of it sits heavy between the place his skin meets yours — breaths mingling as a cry of finally, finally, finally. It consumes you both in such a way that neither of you hear a key turning in the lock, the door slamming open, or heavy boots in the entryway.

It’s not until he speaks that both you and Joel snap your heads in his direction, chests heaving, hands climbing. Caught.

“Guess it’s true, huh? Y’really are enjoyin’ my sloppy seconds.”

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

You're the Only Girl for Me - Chapter 15

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WARNING: MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC ABUSE ;

February 14th 2021

Airelle woke up when a loud muffled moan came from the other side of her wall, where Yasmine’s room was located. “Oh fuck Joe, right there!” Airielle’s eyes widened before she grabbed the pillow that was next to her head and placed it over her face letting out a muffled scream. She sat up in her bed and glared at the wall once she heard the headboard start to knock against the wall. 

“Lucky bitch.” She muttered as she picked her phone up to check the time 6:34 am. She sighed and got out of the bed. “Guess I can go workout.” She said to herself as she quickly got dressed, trying to ignore the sounds of Yasmine and Joe getting down. 

Grabbing her keys, Airielle ran out of the apartment as fast as she could. When she got to the gym, she failed to pay attention to a familiar car in the parking lot. A black Ford F-150. After checking in with the front desk she made her way over to the equipment stopping in her tracks at the sight of familiar tattooed arms lifting weights. 

Airielle’s heart sped up as their eyes locked.  She sent him a small smile and a wave which he returned, before he went back to his workout. She cursed herself as she walked over to the treadmill, if she wasn’t so preoccupied with getting out of the apartment, she would have realized that Josh should've been at the gym. This was his gym, he was the one who told her about it.  

Airielle knew that Josh normally worked out around this time, he dealt with insomnia and had FacTimed her multiple times while he worked out claiming that seeing her face gave him motivation even though she was sleeping while they were on the phone.

Airielle tried her hardest to not look at him, but she could feel his eyes on her as she started her workout. She had thought hard about their relationship and she did miss Josh badly and she wanted to be with him but Tracy was going to have to stay far away from her. Because there was no real reason for Tracy to even lie the way she did, she was apparently in a relationship so why was she trying to ruin Josh and Airielle’s? 

“You still ignoring me?” Airielle choked on her water and turned her head to look at Josh with wide eyes. She hadn’t even heard him walk over to her.  Josh chuckled at the look on her face and reached over to slow down the treadmill before she went and fell on her face. 

“Huh?” She said after her coughing fit, stepping off the treadmill and standing in front of him. 

“I said, are you still ignoring me?” Airielle sighed and shuffled on her feet. She was uncomfortable but she also knew that she needed to talk to him even if it was in the middle of the deserted gym. 

“I wasn't ignoring you Josh, I just needed time to think.” Josh nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. 

“About us?” He asked after a moment of silence to which Airielle nodded. 

“Yes, about us, about your baby momma, about everything.”  Josh nodded again but didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say all he knew was that he wanted to be with Airielle and he needed her to know that. He needed her to know that she made him happy and that she was all he could think about. Well tell her that dummy. His inner voice scolded him. 

“Before you tell me your decision, have dinner with me later on.” She opened her mouth to protest but Josh cut her off. “Please, just come over to my place and have dinner with me and we can talk about us. Just don’t break up with me without us having a conversation.” Airielle sighed before she nodded, agreeing to be at his apartment no later than 7 pm. Josh smiled and went to give her a kiss on the cheek before stopping himself. He said goodbye before leaving the gym, the smile still on his face. 

 “So you’re going to Josh’s apartment?” Yasmine asked for the 1000th time causing Airielle to sigh and roll her eyes as she finished up the final touches of her make-up. 

“Yes Yas. I’m going over to Josh’s” she paused then added  “For dinner only.” 

“On Valentine's Day?”  Airielle locked eyes with Yasmine in the mirror and arched an eyebrow. 

“Whatchu’ tryna say Yasmine?” Airielle turned around and leaned against her vanity, cocking her head to the side as she waited for Yasmine’s answer. Yasmine held her hands up defensively and let out a little chuckle. 

“Hey. I mean. The old Airielle would’ve blocked him and been moved on by now, but you must really like him.” Yasmine teased. 

Airielle rolled her eyes again and pushed past Yasmine. “Shut up,” Airielle mumbled and Yasmine’s eyes widened before she let out a squeal and started jumping up and down

“You love him!” Airielle stumbled in her heels and she whirled around and faced Yasmine. 

“No I don’t, I didn’t say that. I don’t love him, why would you say that?” Airielle rambled on and the smile started to slowly fade from Yasmine’s face as Airirlle’s breathing increased, almost to a full blown panic attack. 

“Airie chill. Relax. I was only joking.” Yasmine tried to pull Airielle into a hug but Airielle pushed her away. 

“Well, don’t joke like that Yas.” Airielle mumbled, trying her hardest to blink back tears because what Yasmine said was 100% true. She was in love with Josh and she was scared. She had only been in love one time and it ended with her in the hospital with two broken ribs, a broken ankle and a broken nose that needed to be surgically fixed. 

“Oh honey,” Yasmine sighed and pulled Airielle into a hug, despite her fighting. Yasmine rubbed her back as she broke down in her arms. “It’s okay babe. Josh ain’t nothing like Christopher and you know that which is why you gravitate towards him, he treats you way better than Christopher ever did, even before y’all got engaged.”  Yasmine lifted Airielle’s face off of her shoulder and wiped her tears away. “Now go fix your make-up and go get your man.” 

AIRIELLEJONES

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AirielleJones: Happy Valentines Day ❤️

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user: please say you back with @uceyjucey

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Airielle tried to stop shaking as she reached Josh’s front door but her nerves were all over the place. She took a deep breath before knocking on the door, not surprised at how quickly Josh opened it.

“Hey.” Airielle whispered, eyeing his outfit. “You look nice.” She said, smiling when he moved to the side to let her in. 

“You do too.” He said back but Airielle wasn’t listening, her eyes moving around the kitchen/dining room area in awe. 

“Josh” She whispered, tears threatening to fall from her eyes as she looked at all the balloons and rose petals he had spread out in his apartment. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day Airielle.” He whispered as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. 

His attention to detail was immaculate as he had her favorite… everything. Her favorite wine, her favorite takeout food (she noted as he did a poor job of hiding the containers in the trash) and  her favorite chocolate candy. 

“You didn’t have to do all this.” She whispered, turning around so she could look at him. 

“I know,  I wanted to,” He sighed and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it.. “I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me. Even if you have been ignoring me..” He said with a small smile. “You make me happy as hell Airielle and I just wanted to apologize for putting you in that situation with Tracy. I should’ve told her ass to go home when she came Friday morning, I just didn’t want her to take the boys with her.” 

“I understand that” Airielle nodded, “I just don’t want to deal with that Josh -

“And I don’t want you to have to deal with that. What T did was wrong as hell and she knows that. You don’t deserve to have my ex come and tell you a bunch of lies and I completely understand if that's you deal breaker Rih.” 

Airielle sighed. Was that a deal breaker for her? And Yas was right if Josh was anybody else she would have cut ties with him and been moved on.. So why couldn’t she? 

is this considered a cliff hanger??

Lmao.. she she realized she's in love with him, y'all think she gon tell him or walk away from him?

[thehollowwriter]

Warnings: Technically none, but I suppose child abuse Word count: 3697

Summary: At six years old, Finn can't look after himself. When an unexpected situation befalls his Papa and his Papa's staff, there is nobody to look after him besides the last resort: his grandmother.

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ♥️)

The Grandmother

Grandparents. Everybody had them. Even if they weren't alive anymore or you didn't know them, there isn't a single person in Twisted Wonderland without them.

The relationships between grandchild and grandparents were different everywhere for every family. Some are close, some are distant, some are complicated, and others never got to know or meet their grandparents at all.

Finn fell into the distant category. Extremely distant. At least for the one living grandparent he did have.

His grandmother, on his dad's side, was somebody he had only met once.

His Papa didn't mention her (or Finn's grandfather, but he died a few years ago) or talk about her at all. In fact, Finn wouldn't have even known she existed if it weren't for his classmates.

"My Grammy makes the best crab rolls. You've got to try them!"

"Oh, my grandpa knows how to wrestle. He was a wrestler when he was young!"

"My grandparents said they had to swim through ice to get to school."

The few kids willing to talk to Finn looked at him.

"And what about you?" One asked. "What are your grandparents like?"

Finn, knowing they were just going to make fun of how he talked if he answered, just shrugged.

However, even as the conversation was dropped, Finn wouldn't stop thinking about it. Grandparents? His Papa's parents were dead, but he didn't know about the other side. Did he have any? What did they look like? Why didn't Papa talk about them?

When Finn got home from school, he swam into the kitchen where his Papa was making lunch and tugged at his arm.

"Papa," He said. "Do I have g-g- gwamparens?"

His Papa paused his actions and took a moment to translate his botched pronunciation.

"Grandparents." He corrected quietly. "Yes, one. Your dad's mother."

He didn't say any more, and Finn knew not to ask anymore. He could hear in his Papa's voice, the way it wavered slightly, that he didn't like this topic.

That was fine. Finn didn't actually care that much. His curiosity was fulfilled, and really, he just wanted to go play in the sand and hunt crabs in the garden.

This topic was only brought up again later, when Finn and his class were given a school assignment relating to their little history lesson about some times of civil unrest in the past.

"Talk to your parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, whoever you can," said Finn's teacher. "It's important to hear from lots of different people."

Finn went home with the paper containing the information about his project clutched in his hand, then held it up for his Papa to see.

"Can I see gwamparens?" He asked. "For questions."

"Grandparents." His Papa patiently corrected. "And no. You can talk to Timo and the others instead."

It was around this time that Finn realised that being no contact with certain relatives was considered abnormal. Wrong. Something to pity.

When Finn relayed what his Papa said to his teacher, and she, after several tries, eventually translated his stilted, slurred speech, her demeanour became awkward.

"Oh." She said. "Are you sure?"

Finn nodded. She looked uncomfortable.

"Ask your Papa again." She said, and when Finn was on his way out the door, she mumbled. "Honestly, parents always let their petty family drama get in the way of their children's schooling."

She said it under breath, thinking Finn wouldn't hear, but he very much did.

Finn came home wondering why his Papa wouldn't let him see his grandmother, and then asked him again to see her.

"No." His Papa repeated. He was annoyed, but not at Finn. Never at Finn. "Tell her not to make you ask me again."

Finn nodded. "K. But Miss Key said fammy dwama gets in the way of... of..." He frowned, annoyed at the words that refused to come out right. "S-sooling."

His Papa squinted at him. "Family drama gets in the way of schooling?"

"Yeah."

His Papa drew in a slow breath but said nothing more on the topic. Instead, he told Finn to take his questions to the staff. They were happy to comply, ruffling Finn's hair and telling him all about their experiences "back in the day."

Finn was given many school projects revolving around talking to or about his family. He would always ask Timo, who was like his big brother, and Gale and the others, who were like his aunts and uncles.

His teachers didn't really like this, insisting he talk to his real family instead.

"Dey are." Finn said, blinking, and his teacher sighed and grinded her jaw.

"They need to be related to you, sweetie." She said.

When Finn repeated what he said to his Papa, the older shark just rolled hus eyes and muttered, "Bullshit." followed by a hurried, "Don't copy that."

From time to time, especially when given these projects, Finn wandered what this grandmother he apparently had was like. However, he would quickly lose interest because if his Papa didn't like her, he probably wouldn't either.

Oh, how he underestimated how true that statement would be.

It started when his Papa got in trouble for something. Finn wasn't sure what it was exactly, but he knew whatever it was, it wasn't true, so he didn't understand why these people wouldn't leave them alone.

Timo was in trouble, too, as well as some of the others. There wasn't anybody to look after him while whatever was going on was being sorted out, and his Papa absolutely refused to leave him home alone, so it was eventually decided he'd stay with his grandmother.

His Papa looked furious about it, finns trembling, hands clenching, eyes dark.

"Papa?" Finn asked, grabbing his hand. He stared at his Papa, wondering why he seemed upset.

His Papa muttered something and looked back at Finn, squeezing his hand.

"You're going to stay with your grandmother for a little bit, okay?" He said, his voice tinged with that same waver from before. "Probably just for a night until I get this sorted out."

Finn was given ten minutes or so to pack a little bag for himself. Toothbrush, toothpaste, his drawing things, and some of his toys were hurriedly shoved into a bag made of kelp, and then he was waiting at the door to go.

They swam for a while, until they reached the main part of the city. The streets were empty due to how late it was, and the sky was dark.

Silas turned Finn around and gently held his face. "Whatever she says to you, just ignore it, do you understand? Think of it as a nonsense rhyme. I promise I'll come fetch you as soon as possible."

Finn nodded, unsure why this was being said at all. He didn't care to listen to anyone besides his Papa most of the time anyway.

Eventually, they both noticed a lone figure drifting down the street towards them.

She was pink and white in hue, and skin sagged in a way that felt sad, somehow. Hair as white as snow flowed past her back, which was straight as an arrow. Her wrists were adorned with golden bangles, and she wore many rings. Two gold necklaces with a diamond on each one hung elegantly around her neck, clinking softly as she swam gracefully toward them.

Her face, now, that was the interesting part, was obscured by a thick white veil with golden patterns woven into it.

She looked like a ghost, and the thought made Finn's heart nearly stop. Next to him, his Papa tensed.

"Ah, Finn, dear, there you are." Said the stranger, who then turned her face towards his Papa."And.. Silas."

It felt wrong, in a way, to hear his Papa's name coming out of her mouth. Especially in a tone filled with such resentment and disgust.

"Cyrus." Said Finn's Papa.

A silence settled over them for a moment. A heavy, pregnant silence.

"Look after him." His Finn's Papa said after a while. He then covered Finn's earfins with his hands and said something Finn couldn't hear. He then lifted his hands just in time for Finn to hear the grandmother call his Papa a brute.

They hugged goodbye, and Silas once again reminded Finn not to listen to her, then parted ways

Finn followed the grandmother down the street, the two of them swimming in silence. He could feel her eyes on him behind that veil, scanning him from head to tailfin.

"How old are you?" The grandmother finally asked as they weaved through silent, unlit houses. "I haven't seen you were just a little baby. You've certainly... grown."

"Six." Finn mumbled, staring at the ground.

"Speak up." Said the the grandmother, her tail flicking in annoyance. "And look at me when I'm talking to you. Your father may not have bothered with teaching you manners, but I certainly will. I'll ask again, how old are you?"

"Six." Finn repeated a little louder, annoyed. He knew manners! He just didn't like people's eyes or looking into them. His Papa said he didn't have to do any of that.

Tye grandmother sighed. "We'll work on it. Six, hmm? My, how time flies. I'm surprised you're still alive."

Finn didn't understand what she meant by that, but he still didn't like it. He decided he didn't like her either.

Eventually, they arrived at a large double story home with a fenced front garden that contained a stone pathway and coral sculptures. The house itself was carved out of limestone, and it was very pretty.

"Woah." said Finn.

"Better than a rock, isn't it?" Said the grandmother, and Finn decided not to answer.

The inside of the house was neat and tidy. It was almost too perfect. More props for a movie set than an actual home.

Furniture, picture frames, and paintings were perfectly placed an angled, looking brand new and untouched by time. The only thing out of place was the dining room table, which had deep clawmarks running through it.

Finn stared at it, wondering what happened, until the grandmother ushered him away.

The house was so big. There was an entrance hall, a lounge, a separate dining room, a large kitchen, a small library, several bedrooms, and two master bedrooms.

"You must feel so cramped in that hunk of rock you live in." Said the grandmother. "This would be a much better place to stay, don't you think?"

Finn shrugged his shoulders, and she sighed but didn't say anything, opting to open up one of the bedroom doors instead.

"You will be staying here." She told him, opening the curtain of seaweed that functioned as a door. "This was Morri- your other father's room when he was younger."

Finn slowly swam inside and looked around. He felt like he'd travelled back in time for a moment, taken to an era from long before he was born.

The room that had apparently belonged to his late dad was just as freakishly perfect as the rest of the house. Not a speck of algae in sight, not a single sign of age or decay. It hadn't been disturbed, seemingly the exact same as it was when it was being used.

Overall, there wasn't actually much to it. The walls were painted teal, and the floor lilac. A box of various musical instruments sat in the corner, probably the most disorganised thing in this house.

In the back corner of the room was a huge trophy cabinet that was fit floor to ceiling. It was filled to the brim with trophies, plaques, scrolls, and certificates. Finn couldn't read yet, so he didn't know what they were for, but it seemed important.

Band and movie posters, a calendar marking an age of almost fifty years ago, and sketches of odd diagrams were hung up on the walls, slightly faded.

The large clamshell bed was littered with clawmarks on the sides, the only odd sight on the perfectly made bed.

On an empty dressing table sat a single framed picture of Finn's dad, surrounded by little glass containers of tiny bioluminiscent creatures.

Unlike all the other pictures Finn had seen of him, he wasn't smiling here. No, his face held a blank, exhausted expression.

"He was such a talented and clever child." The grandmother sighed suddenly. "I hope you are, too, Finn."

Finn's earfins flattened unhappily at the odd, unplaceable tone of her voice.

The grandmother shuffled back down to the ground floor, leaving Finn alone in that eerie room.

Finn didn't know why, but he didn't like it in there. Being there felt wrong. He put his bag down on the bed and swam out of there to instead watch the grandmother make food in the kitchen.

"You're awfully quiet, boy." She said. Finn blinked at her, and she sighed. "I believe you're meant to thank your kind grandmother for looking after you while your crook of a father deals with the police."

"Oh." Finn said, silently wondering if this was something he should ignore. "F... Fank you."

"Oh, don't tell me you can't talk right either." The grandmother groaned and raked her hands through her hair, careful to avoid the veil. "Thank you. It's quite simple, dear."

Finn frowned, his cheeks flushing in mild embarrassment. He'd always been slow in learning to talk. It took him far longer than considered normal to even say his first word, nevernind a sentence.

"Speech delay," it was calmly explained to both himself and his Papa. Quite a frw children experience it. All he needed to do was go to speech therapy for a while until he caught up with his peers.

Finn knew all of this, though in a much more simplified manner. "Talking problems." He would explain to people, but he couldn't muster the words to elaborate.

This stranger, this grandmother, probably wouldn't even bother trying to decipher his botched pronunciation.

Finn bowed his head and muttered a quiet "Sorry."

"You need to speak up." Was the reply. "Does Silas even talk to you?"

His Papa did talk to him, just not a whole lot. At least, compared to other parents. It wasn't because he didn't like talking to Finn or anything, but because he didn't have much he felt he needed to say.

He talked to Finn enough that Finn didn't feel ignored or abandoned and that he could learn how to talk. He just didn't constantly try to fill the air.

Trying to get this across to adults who were convinced his Papa was neglecting and mistreating him was impossible, so Finn just shook his head and said, "Papa talks lots."

The grandmother muttered something disbelief as she cut up kelp with a knife. "Yes, I'm sure two sentences a day is 'lots' for Silas. No wonder you're so behind... oh, I know this would happen without Morrigan there..."

Finn didn't understand what she was talking about, but the vague feeling he did something wrong and his Papa was being blamed for it gnawed at the back of his mind.

"Here, I talk to you like a parent should." Said the grandmother. "Isn't nice, having a conversation with someone who actually talks?"

Finn didn't answer.

Dinner was served at that scratched up table in that perfect dining room in that perfect, empty house.

Finn was tired and hungry, so when a platter of shredded seaweed, shrimp, and crab legs was placed in front of him, he reached out to grab some.

A sudden stinging pain on his knuckles made him yelp and draw his hand back, shaking it as it ached. That hurt, that really hurt, and it made his eyes water.

He looked up to find the grandmother holding a metal salad fork, waving it at him and looking at him like he'd committed a crime.

"Ungrateful." She seethed. "Greedy boy. I was worried Silas wasn't feeding you, but it seems that instead, he raised a little glutton who thinks he can take what he wants. Well, not under my roof. You take what I give you, the amount a child is supposed to eat, nothing more and nothing less."

Finn blinked back the tears and looked at his hand, noticing the bruises already forming on his knuckles. He nodded slowly. "Kay."

He was given a tiny helping and a fork, which was forcefully shoved into his hand until he was holding it "correctly."

"There." Said the grandmother. "Perfect. Civilised. Isn't this better, dear?"

Finn still didn't answer, and she just huffed and dished herself up an obscenely small portion of the dinner.

There was a pause as Finn stared at her veil, and she raised her hands to it.

"Don't say a word." She said and slowly removed it.

Finn blinked, surprised.

Her face was scarred. Very scarred. One could say she was little more damage away from being mangled. The jagged, rough marks on her flesh seemed to indicate she had been slashed in the face in a very violent manner. Attacked by something with claws.

Her lips were scarred, too, almost clefted. Her eyebrows were missing hair in some places. Her eyes, her bright turquoise eyes, were cold as ice.

Finn was no stranger to scars. His Papa had many, and Timo and the others had a few of their own. But even by those standards, this damage was... extreme.

They ate in silence, accompanied by only the ticking of the kitchen clock. The obnoxiously loud "tick tick tick" made Finn flinch and squirm in discomfort.

Even as he ate, he couldn't take his eyes off the grandmother's face. Those scars, they told a story. A very violent, painful one.

The grandmother stopped eating and stared back at Finn with those haunting eyes.

"Your father did this to me, you know." She said. "Ruined me. I can't even show my face in public anymore, not like this."

Finn narrowed his eyes. He didn't believe her. He'd never seen his Papa hurt someone before, only sea creatures.

"Oh, I suppose you think he's just wonderful." The grandmother said with a bitter laugh. "That your 'Papa' is just a stoic man who wouldn't hurt a fly. That's what he convinced your dad, too. Shame my poor Morrigan never saw the truth before it did him in."

Finn shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore her like his Papa told him to. 'Nonsense rhyme that doesn't rhyme.' He told himself, even as his eyes brimmed with tears again, and he wished he could go home.

The grandmother reached across the table and took Finn's hand in hers. "I see the truth. I know you must be suffering, being raised by him. I can help you."

Finn yanked his hand back, staring at her. She sighed.

"Fine. You'll understand soon. Brush your teeth, now, and off to bed with you."

Finn eventually went back to that awful room and curled up in that awful bed, staring at that awful picture of a sad, dull version of his dad. He thought about what his grandmother had said and, by extension, what the others at school had said about his Papa, and then cried until he fell asleep.

The next day, his breakfast was a single crab with a glass of water. He was still hungry from the night before, and honestly, the crab looked a little... old. But he ate it anyway, scared of being hit again.

When he finished up and went to fetch his bag, a knock at the door and the sound of familiar voice calling made him perk up and come rushing down towards it, only to be grabbed by the grandmother.

Her grip hurt, the golden rings digging painfully into his skin as she stared at him with those cold eyes.

"You're not safe with him." She said. "Stay with me. I can raise you properly, make sure you're cared for. I'll make sure I don't make the same mistakes I did with Morrigan. You'll be happy. Wouldn't you like that, dear?"

Finn yanked himself out of her grip and shook his head wildly. "No!" He shouted. "No!"

The door suddenly burst open, and Finn took the opportunity to rush through it until he crashed into his Papa and buried his face in his chest.

His Papa paused for a moment, then placed a hand on Finn's back and gently patted him.

"Papa," Finn sobbed, his voice wobbly. "Papa, I wanna go home."

His Papa held him close and grabbed his hand. "We're going home, my treasure, I promise."

Finn yelped and pulled his hand away. "Owie..."

"What?" His Papa's brows furrowed. "What is it?"

"Hand." Finn said, holding up his bruised hand for his Papa to see. It was worse than it was the night before.

His Papa's breath hitched. There was a long stretch of silence as he seemed frozen in place. Then he suddenly moved Finn so he was sitting on the sand by the door.

"Wait here." He said to Finn, then swam inside and closed the door behind him.

Finn, happy his Papa was finally here, drew little pictures in the sand and hummed quietly, only vaguely aware of the muffled voices coming from behind the door.

A high-pitched shriek made him look up, but after a moment or two, he simply went back to drawing, unbothered.

A moment or two later, his Papa swam out of the bride and carefully picked him up.

"Let's go home now, Finn." He said quietly.

During their silent swim, Finn's head was buzzing with thoughts. The grandmother was terrible. He didn't like her. She said strange things and hurt him. But the main thing that stuck in his mind was that one sentence.

"Your father did this to me."

Finn gnawed on his hand nervously, his tail flicking back and forth. It couldn't possibly be true, could it? Or maybe it was, and it was a misunderstanding of some kind.

"Gamma says you hurted her." Finn blurted after a while. "Hurted her face. Why?"

His Papa glanced at him but didn't answer for a while. He seemed to be thinking, remembering something Finn wouldn't know about. Then, he spoke.

"She tried to take you from me."

...........................................

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this little fic! It was a lot of fun writing it. And if you're wondering what Silas did at the end there, he broke Cyrus' hand. Moral or the story; don't hurt Finn. Fun Fact: my little brother also has speech delay, and the way Finn pronounces things was taken from him.

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

[wangxianficrecs]

the world wags on by justdoityoufucker

🔒 the world wags on

by justdoityoufucker (orphan_account)

T, 5k, Wangxian & Wei Changze/Lan Qiren

Summary: Wei Ying learns quickly that he cannot be seen by the Jiang. Or, more specifically, he can’t be seen by Madam Yu, who seems to be around the streets of the city more than she ever had been before. Her seeing him will result in the usual spoken barbs, but also in lashings with the sparking purple of Zidian if there are few around. - Or, the one where Wei Changze returns. Kay's comments: Recently re-read this gem and loved it just as much as I did when the story first came out. Having Wei Changze and Lan Qiren getting together works surprisingly well and of course it's a delight to have Wei Ying grow up in Gusu, as a Lan. It starts out heart-breaking and then it turns out so soft and the petty part of me enjoyed watching the Jiangs flounder as well. Excerpt: Qiren looks as if he’s seen a ghost when the disciple leads Wei Changze into his office, dropping his brush. In a way, he has seen a ghost. “Changze,” he gasps, stumbling to his feet, nearly overturning his desk in his haste, “you—how? The boy??” “She’s gone, a-Ren,” and he can’t keep the grief out of his voice. He’s had five years, yes, but really he’s only had the past week. “I almost died during the hunt; I didn’t remember anything—not until a week ago. a-Ying—” He almost feels like he’s going to collapse if he has to think about what a-Ying went through for months, years, when he should’ve been loved and cared for. “Sit,” Qiren says, leading him to the table, hand remaining on his arm as if when he lets go, Wei Changze will disappear again. “a-Ren, they threw him out,” he says, because he has not been able to talk about this with anyone else and he cannot hold back any longer. “Fengmian didn’t even know if he still lived; my son, like he was naught but some trash!”

pov wei changze, canon divergence, pov wei wuxian, wei changze lives, lan qiren/wei changze, somebody lives/not everybody dies, dysfunctional jiang family, jiang family bashing, past child abuse, parent-child relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, childhood friends

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[zelda-cooper]

Is Morgwing (Darkwing and Morgana) a toxic couple?

This is an opinion blog and about something I thought about these days, you can have a completely different opinion and share it here in the comments or reblogs. But I just ask that you read it until the end, think about it and, PLEASE, no toxic comments or threats! Having said that, let's continue...

These days I was doing my activities while listening to my podcast "Saint Canarian Files: A Darkwing Duck Podcast" (By the way, a very good podcast that I recommend! They're basically on EVERY social network that has podcasts!) and I ended up getting to the episodes of "Monsters R Us" and "My Valentine Ghoul"... I'm not a fan of these episodes, but I wanted to watch them because I like to hear other people's opinions about something I don't like. Then they started talking about the couple's interactions, so I was kind of doing my thing and my brain tuned into the audio... Then I paused and thought ".... Wait, what?", then I went back and listened more carefully... Then it went to the episode about Morgana's family and I was just in complete shock... Because it was right in front of me and I didn't see it. You know that I'm a person who defends Morgwing A LOT and this is my favorite shipp, but listening to this podcast and watching the episodes MORE CAREFULLY... My view started to change a lot about this couple. And not in a good way...

And now I'm here, writing about whether or not Darkwing Duck/Drake Mallard and Morgana Mawcaber are a toxic couple (the world goes round...). And just to clarify...

THIS BLOG IS NOT FOR HATE ON DARKWING OR MORGANA, MUCH LESS ON THEIR FANS!!!

But it's to try to analyze the couple's dynamics and see if there's any salvation or not. I'm NOT a couples psychologist either, much less have I dated in my life so far, but I'm guiding myself by some behaviors and experience in narratives. Having said that... Let's start by talking about the beginning of the couple.

It all started in Morgana's debut episode, "Fungus Amongus" (I know, lol...), where the future couple met... And right away we felt a slight tension between the two... Not slight... A LOT OF TENSION... Okay, just kidding... Right away, we see that they really like each other a lot and feel comfortable talking to each other, even with Morgana's family being against it, the two got along really well in the beginning. This extended to "Ghoul of My Dreams", where it is shown that Morgana really likes Darkwing, because if she didn't like it, it wouldn't make sense for her to dream about them getting married or for Drake to dream about Morgana kissing him, they really fell in love with each other... But there's a small problem... In these meetings, Drake ONLY appeared as Darkwing Duck, not in his civil form (this will change later on, but keep it in mind).

Then we get to the other two... "My Valentine Ghoul" and "Monsters R Us"... And here we already see the couple's problems... In the first one mentioned, we see that Drake is once again as Darkwing Duck and not Drake Mallard (which is already strange, considering that they are dating...), but also... He acts like an idiot with Morgana's feelings, belittling them and such... And the witch reacts angrily and throws magic at him, and, even at the end of the episode, with him saving Morgana, their behavior didn't change... In the second episode mentioned, we have another problem... And I'm not just talking about Drake...

In the episode, we meet the Addams Family - I MEAN, the Mawcaber Family! But especially Morgana's father... And he's the one who causes the biggest fight with Darkwing in the episode... And there's also a simple phrase that the Darkwing Duck Podcast people mentioned too... Where Morgana's father says that her daughter deserves happiness, but Darkwing counters by saying that she doesn't want happiness, she only wants him... Just that simple phrase already kind of shocked me... Where did I see that phrase? Oh, yes... In MANY abusive relationships! :D

And let's mention another episode, "Malice's Restaurant", where Drake also doesn't really support Morgana's dream and her food (ok, in the episode they really drew the food in a way that is disgusting, but you'd be surprised by the animals that are edible IN REAL LIFE...). I'm not going to mention "Hot Spells" because that episode is much more about Gosalyn and neither are the other episodes where Morgana appears with the Justice Ducks. I'm also not considering the Boom or Dynamite comics... Because I haven't exactly read them... IN MY DEFENSE, THEY DON'T EXIST IN THE COUNTRY WHERE I LIVE!!! And buying imported comic is also not an option because I don't have the money... So, uh... Basically that...

But having said all these points... I want to talk, now, about the characters' mistakes... Starting with Drake Mallard/Darkwing Duck...

•Take a deep breath....•

Can we start by talking about how much his personality doesn't help? He's very... VERY arrogant and problematic with many of his relationships... Even with LP, you think they're good friends, but in "Jailbird" and "Quack of Age" Darkwing is also extremely rude to him! And that also applies to his relationship with Morgana...

Let's go back to the two episodes I mentioned before, Drake never let Morgana talk and never cared much about her feelings and that's a red flag for Morgana that she tried to ignore... But there's also the fact that, at no point, he really trusted her... Because, if you notice... In all the dates we saw, Drake ALWAYS kept the disguise of Darkwing Duck, as his heroic persona! He never went on a date with her in the series being himself, and I suspect he DIDN'T WANT to reveal his secret identity to her. But then you remember "But in 'Malice's Restaurant' she appears with him in civilian clothes and also in the comics", yes... I also commented this with my friend Annie and she said it could be a coherence error because it was never explained how, but me... I have my Headcanon that he DIDN'T TELL, she was the one who found out ALONE (and let's be honest that's not hard, because even Negaduck found out because of the Launchpad-).

In this, we have two pillars of a bad relationship: Lack of trust and problematic personality. But there is another factor, which is how much Darkwing DOES NOT accept listening to Morgana, not even when it comes to her feelings. The biggest example is when he says that Morgana DOES NOT want happiness, she wants HIM. Which, let's face it, is not a healthy way to say it! And he also does not accept that she makes "disgusting food" in his eyes, even though he sees that his family and the Muddlefoots liked it. Now you can understand why Morgana's father did NOT want her to date Darkwing... But Morgana doesn't get away with it either... She also made a lot of mistakes...

This will have things from the series, but there will also be a lot of speculation... Because we know NOTHING about Morgana's past, but there are dots that we can try to connect. And let's start with... She didn't have the best of temperaments... And, let's go back to the two fateful ones... In "My Valentine Ghoul", we see how badly Morgana reacts when something goes wrong in her relationship. She gets angry, possessive and basically casts magic on her own boyfriend (even though he deserved it, the reaction was way too exaggerated...). But where did all this temper come from? Eh... I guess it was her father's fault. Let me explain...

Again in "Monsters R Us", we see that her father also did not accept listening to his daughter's opinion, she wanted him to give humans a chance, but he refused until the end. And, apparently, this WASN'T the first time he refused to listen to Morgana and, also, it seems that he was not angry that Morgana had a boyfriend, but rather, that this boyfriend is a HUMAN. And let's go to the theories and speculations... Why does Morgana's father HATE humans? Well... We saw most of Morgana's family in the series, EXCEPT HER MOTHER. There could be many reasons for this, she could be traveling or she could have gotten divorced, but the most likely thing for me is that her mother DIED. And here I'm going to pick a movie that has a similar story... "Hotel Transylvania".

In the first film, Dracula was completely overprotective of Mavis, because of the death of his wife, who died because of humans, going to EXTREME EXTREME measures to keep his daughter from leaving the Hotel. Nothing stops us from thinking that this also happened in the Mawcaber family and that this is what made the family patriarch hate humans so much that he doesn't want to listen to his daughter for ANYTHING. And the fact that she is always silenced, whether by Darkwing or by her own father, ends up generating these violent reactions in her. She ALWAYS has to scream and use her magic to be heard. This is even shown in a scene in the comics (I don't have the scene now, but it happened in a frame I saw randomly). Again, I'm not a psychologist, but having an upbringing where you can't have an opinion and where you can't even really feel the loss of grief MAY end up affecting your personality a lot... This may also have affected her self-esteem and made her very insecure...

BUT I STILL DON'T PUT HER UP!!!

She ALSO never worked on this issue in her life, never tried to deal with her temper or her insecurities. And remember how I said that her father was mad because Darkwing was HUMAN, not because she had a boyfriend? So... Like some other fans, I also think that Drake IS NOT Morgana's first love. She is clearly older than Drake (I'm guessing at least 100 years older, because monsters - We don't even know if they have the same limits as normal humans), so she really must have lived a long time! And these various relationships may have been a kind of escapism for Morgana, and I'll give another example... Rose Quartz from Steven Universe.

It has been said many times in the Steven Universe series that Rose had dated MANY humans during her "life"/existence (....?), it is both shown on screen and said by Pearl to Greg. Even if Rose didn't know what dating was, she only found out with Greg. And here it is the same thing with Morgana (in this case, she knew what dating was-), she used these "passing" relationships to try to escape her problems somehow. Until, at a certain point, she decided to go to Saint Canarian and follow her dream of having a restaurant, and the rest we already know...

But not to say that their relationship was terrible, toxic and horrible from start to finish... There are indeed points that are very good to highlight in their relationship.

Both characters were very loyal in their relationship from beginning to end and in the love they felt for each other, so much so that when one was in danger, the other went to save him. In "My Valentine Ghoul" (so attacked on this blog) this is proven, when Morgana was kidnapped by Negaduck, Darkwing ran to save her (he failed, but at least he tried -) and this goes for other episodes. And also, like it or not... They really LOVED each other and never wanted to harm their partner. In "Fungus Amongus" (sus) and "Ghoul of My Dreams", Morgana NEVER wanted Darkwing to get hurt and also wanted him to stay out of it. They truly loved each other and it was the first time that Morgana wanted a serious relationship... But even with that... I have to say... Their relationship is not good... For either side...

And we arrive at the fateful resolution... Is the relationship toxic?... Yes. But can the relationship be saved?... Maybe, but we don't know if it will last long...

Unfortunately... I don't know if their relationship will be saved... In the current comics, apparently from what I've seen, everything is fine now... But still, I'm very afraid of what their relationship might be like in the future.

Drake can still continue to be a jerk and arrogant who doesn't respect Morgana's feelings... And Morgana will be a temperamental and insecure person who can't control herself emotionally... But would it be possible for them to change? I don't know... Maybe... But they, perhaps, need to break up to see if they can really change their behavior... Even if they truly love each other, the relationship will only hurt both sides... Maybe... It's better for them to let go...

But... What do you think? If you want to comment or reblog, feel free... Thanks for reading this far and bye...

Art by @anniesilverl2

[mae-i-scribble]

Seeing that one reblog of yours about the manhwa I Became The Male Lead's Adopted Daughter really intrigued me! Is it a good one? 👀

Funny story about that, after your reblog brought the post to my attention again and after talking with a friend on discord about stories that subvert tropes I just went back and reread that entire manhwa up to the end of season 2 so this is great timing XD. Im summary: It's absolutely worth your time if you're a fan of father/isekaied daughter fantasy, if you're an isekai manhwa fan in general, or if you just want a well made fantasy father daughter story. Its fantastical concepts are handled with a grounded maturity that most stories in the same genre just don't manage to pull off because it takes the time to truly flesh out its characters as human being first and any tropes last.

The long story is below the cut, I'll be discussing vague spoilers throughout seasons 1 and 2. (side note, im using the official TL names for this bc i like em better)

I Became the Male Lead's daughter has a lot going for it, first of which being Pelliot, the cold duke of the north who adopts Lionia from the orphanage. Most manhwa of this nature have the isekaied person be our main pov with brief glimpses into the parent's perspective, usually done more for plots sake or to comment on how strange the isekaied child is acting. Pelliot shares the protagonist spotlight with Lionia because this story is about both of them concurrently- in fact, we don't even get a look int Lionia's head to find out she's been isekaied until chapter 8(i think, either way its after chapter 5). Before that we get to know her from how Pelliot and the people at the estate see her. Which is such a refreshing take for me, especially when you consider that Pelliot while a stereotypical "violent and competent northern duke who becomes a parent" in theory, is actually played out in a grounded way. The reason he even wanted a child is because he's feeling lonely and he sees how his best friend (yes!! our cold duke has friendships!! and they're super sweet!!) is so happy with 2 children, that he goes about getting a child in the most pragmatic way possible. He is violent and regularly commits war crimes, but he isn't cruel to his staff or his knights as is standard fair for these archetypes. (Can't say the manhwa avoids classist tropes, but such is the way when you have noble protagonists and don't want to make them look complicit in a degrading class system but overall things are handled well enough in that regard). Pelliot, in his fatherhood, also avoids falling into trope traps yet again by being a very believable first time parent. He struggles to adjust to Lionia's emotional needs but is learning, he goes to his knights for advice, he's studying Lionia and trying to make sure she gets a proper childhood and does his best to protect her from further exposure to violence beyond what happens with the abusive orphanage staff. They have a believable banter and play off each other to a scary degree, and while he loves her and worries for her he isn't an overbearing protective trope either. I feel like this is already too long but like. He's such a cool protag to have in a genre that tends to have very narrow and singular dynamics of parent/child relationships. And this isn't even talking about the other relationships we see him have with his peers which are just as good.

Moving onto our other protagonist, Lionia, the post made by @living-as-the-enemy-prince HERE (which clearly you have read but in case other curious souls want to look at it) sums a large part of what makes her work. This is a story that fully realizes its concept to the most effective degree. And I love in turn the story addresses the trauma that comes with being reincarnated- not only from a "i miss my home and family and friends" but from the inherent trauma of being an adult only to one day become a child. Lionia didn't get a chance to rest, she was thrown into a life of abuse, all her agency stolen from her, forced to look after the other orphans because she was the only one who could thus she felt responsible. That sort of disruptive event isn't something that can be brushed off, and it shows in the way Lionia is deeply insecure about her relationship to Pelliot. In this way their dynamic is made equivalent from both sides- in many stories its almost one sided, with the parent figuring out this relationship naturally and the isekaied child playing things 'for the story' and only recognizing the relationship theyve built later (thank you wmmap for helping solidify that -_-). It's truly so well thought out and every aspect of the central relationship feels so natural.

As for the story at large, I'm very excited to see what the plot has in store. As of season 2 of the manhwa, we're only just starting to kick things off plot wise, up until now its been far more concerned with relationship building and giving us a foundation on these characters. But things are definitely cooking now that we've heard mention Baria- the protagonist of the novel Lionia read in her past life (I could probably write another blurb about how well that is being handled but this post is so long already so). On that note though, don't be worried about that "oh but i have to follow the original plot against all common sense and reason" trope bc that doesn't matter at all here. Lionia has her concerns when it comes to the story, some of her insecurities stem from the fact that Pelliot never had a daughter in it, mentioned or otherwise, but at the end of the day she doesn't give a shit, she just wants her dad to have a happy and peaceful life.

Tbh anyone who hasn't read this should absolutely give it a chance bc I haven't even mentioned half the things I find cool about it like all the side characters that I love or the empress storyline that I am eyeing with extreme interest, etc etc

[bellaireland1981]

Starting Over | 8

Summary: You come home to work to find your husband of three years in bed with your supposed best friend. It’s the wake up call you finally needed to take your two year old daughter and get the hell out of Texas. With nowhere to go you head to your big brother in San Diego. The sagger squad takes you under their wings, and shows you what having a family means. You get a fresh start… will you find your happily ever after?

Characters: Jake “hangman” Seresin x Sister! Reader, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Seresin! Reader (Eventually), Hangman x Phoenix , Adorable OC Gracie!   The Dagger squad

Word Count: 10,161

Warnings: Angst, fighting, cheating husband, emotional abuse, eventual fluff, smut in later chapters, Sweet uncle Jake, Adorable Rooster with a toddler… if I miss any please let me know.

A/N: I don’t own the characters or storyline for Top Gun Maverick. All OC’s are mine. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANYONE TO COPY OR REPOST MY WORK TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM! DON’T STEAL! Reblogs, likes and comments ALWAYS welcomed. THANK YOU @waywardodysseys​ and  @beyondthesefourwalls​ as always for reading over my work and helping me flush out ideas!!

Taglist is open! If I missed anyone who asked to be tagged, please fill out this GOOGLE FORM  to be added. It’s getting to hard to keep track of asks.

CH 1  CH 2  CH 3  Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6  Ch 7 

The weekend flew by, with a much needed beach day with the whole squad on Saturday and a relaxing day spent at the house on Sunday. With Trent in jail without the ability to be released on a bond this time, you finally felt like you were able to breathe for the first time since everything started.

Jake decided to still keep his leave time, using it as an opportunity to help you with Gracie so you could start to look into daycares and meet with Penny to figure out hours for the job she’d offered. He was also making you go to UCSD to meet with an admissions representative to look into masters programs for degrees you REALLY wanted and not just something you were forced into. It felt like your life was finally falling into place and everything was going so well… you were almost afraid to trust it.

Tuesday afternoon your lawyer called to let you know that Trent’s hearing was set for the following week. Since the divorce hearing would also be next Tuesday, it appeared as if everything could potentially be over by next week, or at least closer to being over. She reassured you that with this being the second time that he violated the order of protection he would definitely be looking at jail time, just as the officers had said on Friday. She also said that she’d be surprised if he didn’t go ahead and sign off on the divorce and parental rights ahead of the other hearing as his lawyer would most likely advise it. You doubted that though since Trent rarely did anything anyone advised him to do.

“Tulip, I’m going to take Princess G to the park then to get some ice cream.” Jake said, bringing Gracie into the living room after her nap. “I think Nix is going to try to meet us there. Take some time for yourself this afternoon. Enjoy ‘you’ time.”

“I don’t even know what to do with ‘me’ time.” You laughed.

“Exactly the point.” He said, “Maybe go get your toes painted or whatever girls do. Or go drive to UCSD, or go shopping… get your hair done… just… something that is 100% for YOU Tulip.”

“Ok.” You said, giving in, knowing Jake wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer anyway.

“And do not even THINK about dinner tonight.” He added, “Phoenix and I are stealing this one tonight. Bradley will be coming to get you after he’s off to take you to dinner.”

“I guess you have it all figured out then, huh?” You laughed. “Thank you, Jakey. I love you… and I’m lucky to have you for my big brother.”

“I love you too, Tulip.” He replied. “Alright, Princess G… ready to go to the park? Nix is gonna meet us there!”

“Yes Pwease.” She replied, still sleepily, “Mommy, you go too?”

“No, baby.” you replied, smiling, “You get to have Uncle Jakey all to yourself. Mommy will see you later.”

“Tomorrow morning.” Jake corrected, “We’re going to have a sleepover with Aunty Nix and build forts and watch movies and eat pizza. No mommies allowed.”

“Why no mommies, Unco Jakey?” Gracie asked, looking concerned.

“Because then we couldn’t stay up past bedtime and eat junk food and watch movies IN the fort.” He explained in an exaggerated whisper.

“Otay” She whispered back loudly, “Sowy Mommy!”

“It’s ok, Baby.” You laughed, “You have fun with Uncle Jakey and Aunty Nix.”

“Pack an overnight  bag before Bradley picks you up for dinner, Tulip.” Jake said, winking at you.

“Daddy Woosta?” Gracie asked, “I see him too!”

“DADDY Rooster?” Jake asked, smiling widely and looking at you with eyebrows raised.

“She started calling him that Friday night after everything happened…” You explained, “Bradley melted… I didn’t see a problem…”

“I like it.” Jake said, “I approve, just so you know.”

“How about we stop over after dinner to check on the fort building, Baby Girl?” You suggested.

“Yes!” She said, excited, “I wuv him. We call him?”

“Princess G, Daddy Rooster is flying in his plane right now. Mommy will make sure he comes to see you later, ok?” Jake suggested..

“Otay!” She agreed, “We go park now?”

“Sure can,” Jake said, “Let me grab your bag, Princess.”

“Come give Mommy big hugs, Baby girl!” You said, taking her from Jake so he could go get her stuff packed. “Be good for Uncle Jakey and Aunty Nix, Ok?”

“Otay, Mommy.” She promised, hugging you, “I wuv you.”

“I love you too, my Baby girl!” You replied, hugging her back. You were thankful she was so little and none of the crap with Trent would have any lasting effects on her. She was a happy and loving little girl, living her best life.

“Alright, Princess G, the park awaits!” Jake said, coming back to the living room. “Have fun, Tulip. Love you” He dropped a kiss on your head, reclaiming Gracie and the two were off on their adventure, leaving you to shake your head and laugh at the closing door on their way out.

You decided to go get a pedicure before heading to the Hard Deck to talk to Penny about finally taking her up on her offer of the part time job handling the books and inventory, freeing her up to take time away from the bar during the day occasionally.  You would work 3 days a week, leaving you enough time to take classes if you decided to pursue a master’s degree. You were still undecided on that for the time being. You had enough changes happening, enough on your plate…you were afraid to make any more decisions of that magnitude. You did promise Jake you’d talk to someone from the university to get options and you would, but you weren’t sure you were quite ready to actually pursue the degree yet. You DID need to find a daycare though for Gracie. You knew it would be good for Gracie to have other kids to play with the few days a week you’d be working.

You had just left the Hard Deck and were heading to your car when Bradley called.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m finishing up here then I’ll be over to get you. Jake talk to you?”

“Yup.” You laughed. “He told me he’s having a sleepover with Gracie and Nix and no mommies allowed because then they can’t stay up late, sleep in forts and watch movies.”

“Sounds about right.” He chuckled, “Mommies are definitely allowed at my sleepover. We can build our own fort, Sweetheart.”

“I think I like sleepovers with you.” You replied, “Gracie requested a visit from Daddy Rooster.”

“I REALLY love that title,” He rasped, his voice full of emotion, “I absolutely need to see my girl tonight.”

“Jake approves of the title too.” You informed him. “I promised her we’d stop.”

“I’m walking out of here in 10 minutes tops so I’ll be there in about 20.” He said, “Do you want me to pick up take out and we eat at my place or go out somewhere?”

“I like the idea of staying in, actually.” You replied, “You make fort building sound very appealing.”

“I’ll see you soon, Sweetheart.” He laughed, “Drive safe going home.”

“You too.” You replied.

You got home and decided to jump in the shower quickly before changing into a sundress and a pair of sandals. Jake and Nix ended up getting back with Gracie as you were coming out of your room before Bradley made it over.

“Mommy!” Gracie exclaimed, running over to you, arms up for you to lift her up. “We pway at the park! And eat ice cweam!”

“Wow!” You said, “What sounds like so much fun! Were you good for Uncle Jakey and Aunt Nix?”

“Yup!” She nodded her head. “I good!”

“Of course!” Phoenix said, “She was fantastic! We had fun, didn’t we, Sweet girl?”

“Yes! Now we make forts!” She informed you, “Mommy, where Daddy Woosta?”

“He’ll be here soon, Baby girl.” You said kissing her head and setting her down, “He’s so excited to see you.”

“Let’s go get you washed up for dinner, quickly Princess G” Jake said, taking her hand and leaning her back to the bathroom to wash her hands.

“Daddy Rooster?” Phoenix gushed, “That’s absolutely adorable.”

“I KNOW!” You exclaimed, “He turned to a puddle when she said it. She just spontaneously busted out with it.”

“How do you feel about it?” She asked

“I’m completely ok with it.” You replied, “You don’t think it’s too soon do you?”

“Sweetie, I think there is no timetable for these things.” She replied, “If you, as her mom, are ok with it, and Rooster, the person on the receiving end of it, is ok, and Gracie is obviously ok… then I say… Daddy Rooster has a new title.”

“Nat, I am 100% gone for that man.” You confided in her, “I know I should feel guilty since I’m legally married to another but my heart fully belongs to Bradley.”

“We all kinda figured that one out already,” She laughed. “But I’m glad to know you’re aware. He feels the same, just so you know. Just promise that you won’t get tied down by timetables or what you think social norms dictate. Do what feels right to you and Bradley and what’s best for Gracie.”

“I promise.” You said.

Bradley arrived not long after. Jake had just finished getting Gracie cleaned up when he came through the front door.

“Daddy Woosta!” She exclaimed, barreling through the living room and straight into Bradley’s arms. He’d dropped down to his knees to be at her level and swooped her up. “I wuv you.”

“Hi Princess.” He said, kissing the top of her head, “I love you too, my girl.”

“You sweep ova wif me?” She asked him sweetly.

“How about we have a sleep over another night, Princess?” He countered, “I hear you have a super fun sleepover with forts planned with Uncle Jake and Aunty Nix tonight.”

“Otay.” She agreed. “And Mommy too?”

“And Mommy too.” He promised.

“Alright, Princess G.” Jake said, “Ready to start our super fun sleepover?”

“Yes!” She exclaimed, then turned to kiss Bradley on the cheek and hug him before wiggling out of his arms and running to say goodbye to you. “Wuv you Mommy! Wuv you Daddy Woosta!”

“Love you too, Baby girl.” You replied, hugging her and kissing her. “Be good for Uncle Jakey and Aunty  Nix, and Mommy will see you tomorrow morning.”

“Otay, Mommy.” She said before running over to Phoenix.

“Ready to go, Sweetheart?” Bradley asked, his hand coming up to rest on the small of your back.

“Yup.” You replied, smiling, “Overnight bag packed, as ordered by my dear sweet brother who said no mommies allowed at their super fun sleepover…. I’m all yours, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

“Well, then it’s a very good thing that mommies are very much allowed at my super fun sleepover tonight.” He winked, grabbing your overnight bag and guiding you out of the front door.

Back at Bradley’s the two of you ate the take out that he’d picked up before picking you up. Afterwards he sent you to change into comfy clothes while he constructed the promised fort in the middle room. You changed out of the dress, putting on the sleep shorts you’d packed, but opting instead to pull on one of Bradley’s well worn Navy t-shirts. You pulled your hair into a messy bun on top of your head before making your way out to the living room.

“That’s some impressive fort building, Lieutenant.” You said, walking into the room. He’d moved around some of the furniture to make room for the fort, using the dining room chairs and couch as the structure to drape the blankets over.

“Wait until you see the inside, Sweetheart.” He said, smiling. “You look really good in my shirt, too.”

“Thanks.” You beamed, “It looked more comfortable than the one I brought with me.”

“You can wear my clothes anytime.” He said. “Come on inside our very own fort.”

You walked around to the opening in the front where he was holding the blanket open for you. You crouched down and crawled inside to find more blankets laid out on the floor with pillows to keep you both comfortable. He’d found and strung up some battery operated fairy lights to give you some light inside the fort as well as a couple of the flameless battery operated candles. He had his laptop opened for you to watch a movie on and a variety of snacks as well.

“Bradley.” You laughed, “How in the hell did you get this all set up in the short time I was changing?”

“I may have had everything already set up and ready to go…” He replied, a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. “Jake and I hashed this plan out yesterday. I ran home at lunch instead of actually eating lunch.”

“Bradley!” You admonished, “Please tell me you didn’t fly without proper nutrition? The only thing worse than you eating vending machine food for lunch is you eating no lunch at all!”

“I grabbed a bag of chips and a granola bar.” He shrugged. “I was ok.”

“You will either bring your sexy ass to the house tomorrow on your lunch to get a proper meal or I will make Jake bring me to the base to deliver the lunch to you.” You informed him

“You like my ass, huh Sweetheart?” He asked, smirking at you, settling against the pillows piled up and pulling you down with him. You settled between his legs, resting your back against his chest.

“That’s what you got from that? You laughed, “But for the record, I do like your ass.”

“For the record, I think everything about you is sexy as hell, Sweetheart.” He said, his voice right by your ear, sending shivers down your body. He had changed into gray Navy sweats, and you were discovering how soft they were against your skin as you ran your palms over his legs.

“So what’s the plan for this super fun sleepover tonight?” You asked, tilting your head back to look up at him.

He leaned his head down, connecting his lips to yours, his arms already wrapped around your middle, fingers splayed wide over your torso.

“The plan is to keep you locked in my arms, while we watch a movie and relax in our super cool fort here.” He said, using his face to nudge your head to the side and drop kisses on and nip at your neck, “Hopefully with a little bit of making out with my girl thrown in.”

“I like that plan.” You replied smiling. “Your girl, huh?”

“Baby, Gracie is literally calling me ‘Daddy Rooster’.” He laughed, “We’re gonna have a very sad little girl if you’re not my girl.”

You turned around so that you were facing him, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers working into his hair at the nape of his neck.

“I am absolutely yours.” You said without hesitation. “Gracie and I are both yours if you want us. I know we still have a few hurdles to jump and definitely come with some baggage, but …”

“Sweetheart, there is nothing I want more.” He said, interrupting you, his lips finding yours, his hands moving to your hips to anchor you to him. His tongue snaked out, licking over your lower lip seaking entrance. You opened, allowing him in, your own tongue moving to meet his, tasting one another. His hands moved over your back before dropping down to the hem of the t-shirt and moving up and under, until his hands connected with your bare skin. You gasp, burying your fingers deeper into his hair, and grinding down onto him as you deepen the kiss.

“Shit, Sweetheart.” He groans as your core rubs against his semi hardened cock. “You feel so fucking good.”

You continue to move against him, knowing you would need to stop, but not ready to lose this feeling just yet. You kiss your way to his neck, tracing over the scars with your tongue, causing a shiver to move over his whole body. He groans deeply, his hands moving over you feverishly, pulling you closer.

“Mmm” You moaned, panting, “Bradley, as much as I desperately want to continue this, we need to hit the breaks.”

“I know.” He agreed, sucking air into his own lungs, using his hands to gently still your movement, giving him a moment to collect himself. “Just need a minute here, Sweetheart.”

“I want the first time we’re together to be when I’m able to freely give every piece of myself to you, without any legalities standing in the way.” You said quietly, “He doesn’t get to taint anything between us.”

“There’s no way he could taint anything we have, Sweetheart” Bradley assured you, pulling you down against him again, “I would happily wait forever for you.”

You both sat together, recovering from the heavy makeout session for several moments before you were once more tucked with your back against his chest, nestled between his legs with his laptop propped up on the coffee table so you could watch a movie together.

The next morning, you made Bradley breakfast and packed him a lunch while he was getting ready for work.

“I could definitely get used to this.” He smiled, walking into the kitchen.

“Something other than cold cereal or frozen waffles for breakfast?” You asked, smiling at him over your shoulder, soaking in the sight of him in his flightsuit.

“Getting to wake up with you, getting ready for work knowing you’re in the same house…” He replied, wrapping his arms around you from behind and kissing your neck, just under your ear. “And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit excited about this amazing breakfast you’ve made.”

“I knew it was the food.” You teased, rolling your eyes. He easily spun you around in his arms and dropped his head down to capture your lips with his own in a heated kiss.

“Now THAT is how I need to start every day.” He said, once you’d both had to pull away to breathe.

“No arguments from me.” You replied, “Let’s get you fed, fly boy. You need to get to work and I’ve got an appointment to check out a daycare for Gracie today.”

“How do you feel about that?” He asked, carrying plates to the table. You joined him at the table, sitting down next to him while you both dug into the omelettes you’d made.

“It’ll only be part time.” You said, “It makes me nervous, but I know she needs to be with kids, and I need to get out and be around adults… work. Eventually, I’ll maybe look at going back for my master’s degree. One step at a time.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” He offered, “I can get one of the others to cover my class this afternoon. I’m sure Mav will be fine with it.”

“You’re perfect and amazing for offering.” You answered, offering a smile, “I’ll be ok though. I’ll actually probably need you more next week at the court hearing if you’re able to get off for that… if you want that is…”

“Sweetheart, that’s already a done deal.” He replied. “I already have the entire week for leave. Mav put it in for me before last Friday and I told him to leave it. There’s no way in hell I’d let you face that alone. I know you’ll have Jake… but you have me now too.”

“Thank you.” You said, relieved to know he’d be there with you.

“You absolutely do not need to thank me for that, Baby.” He replied, leaning over to kiss your forehead, “We’re officially a team.”

After finishing breakfast, Bradley grabbed his flight bag and the two of you headed out to the Bronco. He drove you home on his way to the base, which was not actually on his way to the base at all.

“In hindsight, I should have just met you over her last night.” You laughed, when he parked in the driveway. “You’re going to be so late, Bradley!”

“Worth it.” He replied, leaning over to kiss you, “Give my Princess hugs and kisses for me?”

“I will.” You promised, “If you’re not doing anything tonight, do you want to come over after work for dinner?”

“As long as you’re not sick of met yet.” He teased, “Jake’s probably ready to boot me to the curb.”

“He’s too busy with Nat to even notice.” You laughed, “But he doens’t mind because he just wants Gracie and me to be happy… and we are.”

“Good.” He smiled widely, “Mission accomplished. I’ll see you after work, Sweetheart.”

“Fly safe.” You said, leaning in to kiss him again.

“Always.” He promised.

The visit the daycare went really well. Gracie loved the room and teacher she’d be with and had already made a friend. Jake had gone with and had asked all the pertinent safety questions setting your own mind at ease. You knew that Trent would definitely be spending the foreseeable future in jail but for your own sanity you needed a plan in place. The daycare had strict policies for who was allowed in and out and nobody was allowed to pick up a child that wasn’t on that child’s list.  

After going through the center, Jake kept Gracie busy while you filled out the needed paperwork to enroll her.

“Jakey I’m adding you as emergency contact.” You told him, writing down his contact information.

“Add Rooster too.” He replied, flashing a knowing smile.

“Shouldn’t I ask him before I add his name?” You asked. “That seems like basic etiquette.”

“Tulip, she calls him Daddy Rooster, and he’s perfectly fine with it… in fact, he actually loves it.” Jake said, “I highly doubt he’ll be upset about being added as Princess G’s emergency contact. I’d be willing to bet he’d be upset if he WASN’T added.”

“You’re probably right.” You laughed, “Ok, Bradley is being added… but what do you suggest I put down as the relationship?”

“Daddy Woosta?” Gracie asked, “I see him?”

“We’ll go see him after we leave here, Princess.” Jake promised, “You heard the Princess. He’s Daddy Woosta.”

“Jake, I cannot put that on here.” You laughed.

“Put down, Dad.” He said, “It’ll make one less thing to change later. And on the pick up list, you might want to add the whole squad.”

“I am not imposing on them by having them pick up Gracie.” You argued.

Jake pulled out his phone, typing out a text before tucking his phone back into his pocket. You continued to fill out the paperwork, trying to hurry now that you knew you’d be heading to base to see Bradley afterwards.

Jakes phone dinged, then your own phone rang with an incoming FaceTime call. Looking at the caller ID you saw it was Nat. You glared at Jake before quicking answering. As soon as the call went through you saw it wasn’t just Nat. The entire dagger squad, minus Jake was staring back at you, giving you ‘the look’.

“Hi guys…” You said. “How’s your day going?”

“Imposing on us?” Nat asked indignantly.

“There’s a question of even adding us to the pick up list?” Coyote asked, “I’m hurt, Y/N.”

“Sweetheart…” Bradley started.

“Oh you’re already emergency contact, Man.” Jake called, “Only hiccup was she didn’t know what to put for the relationship.”

“I’m good then!” He beamed, “And Daddy Rooster is my title, Sweetheart.”

“Not putting that on the paperwork, Bradley.” you laughed.

“I told her to shorten it.” Jake added.

“Sweetheart, just put down whatever you’re comfortable with.” Bradley said, smiling at you. Phoenix took her phone back from him so you were looking at her.

“Hey, seriously, Y/N.” She said, “Add us all to the pick up list. You never know when you’ll need someone to get her and this way you’re covered. You know we’re all trustworthy… some more than others of course… but we all love that little girl. Now, finish filling out the paperwork and bring her to us…”

“Yes, ma’am.” You replied, laughing. After hanging up, you quickly finished the paperwork. You decided to put down Daddy under the relationship and when you handed the paperwork to the director you explained the situation. She smiled and reassured you that yours wasn’t the first nor the last unconventional family to come through the center and the most important thing was that Gracie was clearly surrounded by people who loved hear dearly.

Confident that you’d made the right choice, you all left, with a list of supplies she’d need for her first day the following week.

You made your way to the base, stopping for lunch on the way so that you can feed Gracie. You knew that once you lef the base she’d need a nap.

“Ready to go see Daddy Rooster, Princess G?” Jake asked, as he was waved through the guard gate on base.

“Yes!” She exclaimed happily from her carseat. “Daddy Woosta! We see Aunty Nix too?”

“We sure will, Sweet girl!” You promised, “Everyone is waiting and so excited to see you!”

Jake drove around to the front of the hangar and parked his truck next to Bradley’s Bronco.

“Mommy!’ Gracie yelled from the backseat, “Dat’s Daddy Woosta’s Bwoo twuck!”

“It is!” You confirmed, “And here he comes now.” Bradley was making his way out of the building, too impatient to wait for you all to come inside. Phoenix, apparently just as impatient, but whether it was to see Gracie or Jake you weren’t entirely sure. You unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of the truck as Bradley got to you.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He said, wrapping arm around your waist and lowering his head to kiss you softly. “I missed you.”

“It’s only been a few hours,” You reasoned,  kissing him back, “But I missed you too.”

“Where’s my girl?” He asked, opening the back door to the truck. “There’s my princess!”

“Daddy Woosta!” Gracie exclaimed, squirming in her seat, making grabby hands towards Bradley. He quickly unbuckled her carseat and pulled her out of the truck. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. He hugged her back, dropping a kiss in her soft curls.

“I missed you, Princess.” Bradley said, pulling back to look at her, “Did you have fun today?”

“I miss you too.” She said, “Yes! I go pway and Mommy and Unco Jakey ask wots of stuffs!”

“We were thorough.” Jake shrugged, smiling when nugged him. “Not just anyone can take care of Princess G.”

“They have tight security protocols in place?” Bradley asked

“Nobody is allowed inside the center that isn’t on the list. There’s a bell with a camera out front you have to ring in unless you have a keycard. If your name isn’t on the list of approved pick up and you don’t have proper ID you aren’t allowed to take the child from the property.” Jake confirmed, “If an attempt is made by a non-approved pick up person, the parents are notified as are the authorities if there is an order of protection in place.”

“Perfect.” Bradley said approvingly, “So our Princess will be nice and safe while she’s not in with us. Did you like the kids and your new classroom, Princess?”

“Yes!” She squealed, “I have fwends! Mommy says I go back and pway!”

“Next week you’ll go back and Mommy will go to work.” You said.

“How about this weekend, Mommy and I take you to go buy a backpack perfect for a Princess?” Bradley asked. “You’ll need a backpack to carry all your pretty pictures that you color at daycare home in.”

“Yes!” Gracie agreed, happily.

“Hey!” Coyote yelled through the open door, “The rest of the squad and Mav are wondering why you’re keeping our little Gracie Nugget out here and not sharing her? It’s rude.”

“He’s right.” Phoenix agreed, reaching over to take Gracie from Bradley. “It is rude. Come on, Sweetie, let’s go play with the rest of the squad. They’re more fun.”

Friday  night the squad descended on the house for the weekly dinner. While you were normally the one that did the majority of the cooking, this time, they’d all pulled together and organized amongst themselves to pull off the dinner so that you just got to sit back and take it all in. Unfortunately you weren’t very good at doing nothing, so you found yourself full of nervous energy.

“Sweetheart, you running back and forth to refill stuff defeats the purpose of us all taking care of you for a change.” Bradley said gently, reaching for the bowl of cut up fruit in your hand.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I kinda suck at doing nothing, Bradley.” You sighed, “I also don’t do so well stayin’ out of my head when I’m not busy…”

“Come here,” He said, pulling you into his arms. You wrapped your own around his middle, resting your head against his chest. “I know telling you it’s going to be ok isn’t helpful. The anxiety is real, you’ve been living in this limbo for too long. But I WILL tell you, you are not alone. I am here. Jake is here. The whole team is here.”

“Thank you.” You whispered, “I honestly don’t know what I would do without you, Bradley.”

“Sweetheart, you’re never going to have to find out.” He promised. “I am not going anywhere. I have a strict no return policy, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

“Damnit, Tulip.” Jake teased, coming up behind you, “I told you to read return policies before taking in stray chickens. Now we’re stuck with him”

“You love him and you know it.” Phoenix said, laughing.

“He’s alright.” Jake winked, taking Phoenix’s hand as they walked past into the house.

“He’s an idiot.” You laughed, once they’d gone inside.

“He is.” Bradley agreed, smirking, “But he’s our idiot and we’re stuck with him.”

“We are.” You said, “Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You spent the weekend getting ready to start your new job at the Hard Deck, which mainly just included making sure Gracie had everything she needed to start daycare. As promised, you and Bradley took Gracie to find the perfect backpack for her. She picked out a Disney Princess backpack (not surprisingly). You let her pick up new toddler panties as she’d done really well with potty training over the last several days. You were hoping it would continue with being at daycare, but you grabbed another pack of pullups just in case.

Sunday Jake and Phoenix one again stole Gracie for the day, taking her to a splash pad and park. Bradley picked you up early and drove you out to a hangar in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere. He got Mav to let him borrow his plane to take you for a ride. It was amazing to be in Bradley’s world, to experience a small part of what he loved.

“That, was AMAZING!” You gushed, once he’d landed and come around to help you down from the plane. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to connect your lips in a soft kiss. “Thank you for sharing your world with me.”

“Sweetheart, I’ll happily share my entire world with you.” He replied. “I’m glad you enjoyed flying though.”

“I’ve never been in a plane so small before.” You said. “I think I just enjoyed it because I fully trust the Pilot.”

“I’m happy to hear that, Sweetheart,” He laughed, kissing you again. “Ready to head back?”

After securing the plane and locking the hangar up for Mav, Bradley led you to the Bronco, opening the passenger door and helping you in. He made sure to lean over to steal a final kiss before making his way around to the driver’s side.

“How would you feel about us stealing our girl back from Jake and Phoenix and kicking them out for the night?” Bradley asked as you headed back to town from the Hangar. “I think they need a date night. We can spend time with Gracie then once we get her tucked in we can have our own date night in.”

“I love that idea.” You said, smiling over at him. “I really love that you get to take her to her first day of daycare with me tomorrow. I’m going to be an emotional wreck.”

“I’m not sure I won’t be a wreck right along with you, Sweetheart.” He admitted. “Will she go all day?”

“Yeah, she goes Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, while I work.” You said, “I don’t have to be at the bar until 10 though, we’ll have time to recover after dropping her off before I have to go work.”

“I can take you to work and then go take care of some stuff and pick you back up when you’re done.” He offered, “Then we can go get Gracie from daycare after and treat her to ice cream after her first day.”

“Sounds perfect.” You agreed, “Tomorrow night will need to be really low key and an early night. I’m going to be a nervous wreck.”

“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do, Sweetheart.” He said.

When you arrived home, Jake and Phoenix had been happy to take you up on date night, but made it known they would be tagging in for  pick up the next day since they’d miss first day drop off. You had a feeling that Gracie’s first day of Kindergarten was going to be  whole production.

After lots of extra playtime and Gracie insisting on Daddy Rooster being the one to read her a bedtime story, you had finally gotten her tucked in and off to dreamland. You and Bradley spent the rest of the night cuddled up on the couch watching a movie before heading to bed to fall asleep tucked into one another’s arms.

Monday morning you woke up wrapped in Bradley’s arms, your legs intertwined with his. Not quite ready to leave his embrace, snuggle down further into him, tucking your face back into the crook of his shoulder.

“Morning, Sweetheart.” He chuckled, his voice deep from sleep.

“Five more minutes.” You mumbled into his neck, “I’m too comfy. You’re so warm.”

“No arguments here.” He replied, “The alarm hasn’t gone off yet, so I think we have a few more minutes.”

“I like waking up in your arms.” You said, lifting your head just enough to be heard, “And I sleep better with you… listening to your heartbeat… feeling your warmth, the smell of your body wash mixed with jet fuel…”

“I sleep better with you too, Sweetheart.” He admitted, “And I definitely love waking up with you in my arms. I don’t know if I should be offended by the jet fuel comment thought.”

“NO!” You said, shooting up to look at him, only to see the sparkle of amusement in his eyes. You playfully slapped him and settled back down so you were once more laying on his chest, “You just have a unique scent’s that’s beyond just your body wash and it’s very comforting.”

“You’re cute when you’re riled up.” He laughed. “We should probably get going so we can get our Princess some breakfast and make sure everything is perfect without having to rush.”

“We have to make sure we take picture too.” You reminded him, “Jake made me promise I’d get some since he won’t be home this morning to take them.”

“Let’s rock and roll then, Sweetheart.” He said lifting his head to kiss the top of yours.

The two of you got up and got ready before Bradley headed off to the kitchen to start getting breakfast ready while you went in and got Gracie up.

She was excited to go to her new “school” so she sprung right up and you got her dressed in a pair of cute knit shorts and a Disney Princess t-shirt. She wanted her hair in two pony tails so you pulled her curly hair into two matching pony tails with small purple bows to match her shirt. Once she was dressed you ushered her out to the kitchen to get breakfast.

“There’s my beautiful Princess!” Bradley said when Gracie walked into the kitchen, “Are you hungry baby girl?”

“Yes pwease!” She answered, heading directly to Bradley and lifting her arms up to be picked up. Bradley quickly wiped his hands on the towel and picked her up, covering her face in kisses, causing her to burst into a round of giggles. “Dat tickles Daddy!”

“I had to make sure I gave you lots and lots of kisses to get you through the day!” He explained, “I didn’t want you to run outta power half way through.”

“You siwy!” She laughed, but then leaned forward and placed several kisses on Bradleys face in return. “You have powa now too!”

“Thank you, Princess!” He smiled, “Now I’ll make it all day until I see you again tonight.”

“Alright, my two crazies, time for breakfast.” You said, chucklling at their antics, “We need to get you fed, then Uncle Jakey wants us to take lots of pictures so he can see how pretty and grown up you look heading off to your first day!”

After breakfast you all headed outside to the front porch for pictures you made sure to snap some of just Gracie, then took a few of Gracie with Bradley, he got a few with you and her before finally taking some in selfie mode with all three of you. It may have been a little overkill for just a first day at daycare but it was also the first day of a fresh start of sorts.

Drop off went pretty smooth… as far as Gracie was concerned. She went right in and was excited to play with the kids. You and Bradley managed to hold it together until you were back in the Bronco and then there were a few tears shed.

“We’re going to be absolute wrecks when we take her to kindergarten.” He chuckled, glancing over at you.

“Or when she graduates high school.” You smiled over at him. “Does it seem crazy that we’ve only known one another for a short time but we’re already in so deep… that when I picture the future for Gracie and me, no version of it is without you?”

“Sweetheart, it’s not crazy.” He assure you. “I really believe that when people are meant to be and they find each other time doesn’t matter. We will do this at whatever pace we determine is right.” He turned so that his body was facing you and he took your hands in his own, “And the only future I want is one with you and Gracie. You two are my entire world.”

To keep the emotions from bubbling up you leaned over and connected your lips with his in a gentle kiss. Smiling against him.

“We’re on the same page then.” You said.

You sent several pictures to the group chat while Bradley drove you back home.  You got stuff ready for dinner that night before needing to get ready for work. Bradley dropped you off at the Hard Deck, promising to come back as soon as he ran some errands.

Penny showed you the books and the inventory lists on the computer, explaining the system. You spent the afternoon familiarizing yourself with the system and making a list of what was running low and what would be needed sooner rather than later. Bradley arrived a few hours after dropping you off and sat at the bar chatting with Penny until you were ready to head out for the day.

“I think I’ve got a good handle on the current system.” You said coming out to bar area from the back office, “I started a list of what’s running low and can finalize what needs to be ordered on Wednesday when I’m back.”

“Sounds good.” She replied, “So tomorrow morning… what time do you need me there?”

“My lawyer wants to meet before going in, so we need to be at the courthouse at 8.” You replied, “I can’t thank you enough for staying with Gracie, Penny. Just knowing she’s going to be safe and taken care of takes lot off of my shoulders.”

“Sweetie, you do not need to thanke me one bit.” She assured you, “I’m more than happy to spend time with that sweet little girl. You just focus on getting yourself free from that piece of shit and staying strong tomorrow, ok?”

“Ok” You said, smiling. “I can handle that.”

“Perfect.” She said, coming around the bar to wrap you in a hug, “Rooster, take this sweet one home to spend time with her baby and I’ll see you both in the morning.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He replied wrapping his arm around your waist and guiding you out of the bar.

As per the deal the night before, Jake and Phoenix got to pick up Gracie from daycare and bring her home. They stopped on the way for a slushie to celebrate and to hear all about her first day. When they arrived you had already changed clothes were working in the kitchen on dinner with Bradley.

“Mommy, we home!” Gracie called when they arrived. You could hear Jake prompting her to take off her shoes and little backpack before she came running to the kitchen.

“How was your first day of daycare, Sweet Girl” You asked, wiping your hands of and scooping her up into your arms. “Did you have so much fun?”

“Yes!” She confirmed, “I dwawed, pwayed, and wead books!”

“That sounds like a very full day!” Bradley said, stepping over and kissing her head, “Did you have enough power?”

“Yes!” She laughed, holding her hands out to Bradley, who immediately pulled her into his arms.

“I missed you today, Princess.” He said, giving her snuggles.

“I missed you too, Daddy Woosta.” She replied, hugging him back tightly.

“How did pick up go?” You asked,  as Jake and Phoenix walked into the kitchen, “Did they give you any trouble?”

“Nope.” Jake smiled, “They remembered me from last week and I have the card so no issues. They said she had a fantastic day. Already making lots of new friends.”

“Are we surprised?” You asked, laughing, “She’s one hundred percent her uncle when it comes to being an extrovert.”

“We may need to work on the whole ‘stranger danger’ thing with her.” Jake acknowledged, “She’s probably a little too friendly.”

That night you and Bradley both tucked Gracie into bed after reading her a book and going through the nightly routine of bathtime and snuggles with Uncle Jakey while watching one episode of whatever classic cartoon Jake managed to find for that night. He was determined that Gracie would be exposed to all of the great classic cartoons we’d grown up on.

“Sweet dreams, Princess.” Bradley said, leaning down to kiss her forehead, “I love you.”

“I wuv you too, Daddy Woosta.” She replied softly, smiling at him. He stood up and made room for you to move in to sit next to her.

“I love you Sweet Girl.” You said, leaning down to hug her and kiss her, “Sweetest of dreams, Baby.”

“Wuv you, Mommy” She replied, hugging you back.

The next morning you were on autopilot getting ready. Bradley and Jake did their best to make sure you at least tried to eat some breakfast but your anxiety was really high and the thought of food made you want to throw up.

“Tulip, you need to eat something.” Jake said, “Even if it’s just toast. If you don’t, you’ll pass out in court.”

“He’s right, Sweetheart.” Bradley agreed, “Maybe eat a slice of toast and a half of banana.”

“Mommy, you sick?” Gracie asked, concerned, not knowing what was happening but picking up on something being off with her adults.

“No, Sweet Girl.” You reassured her, forcing a small smile, “Mommy just has butterflies in her belly this morning.”

“Mommy, you siwy” She giggled, “You eat my nana?”

“That’s so sweet of you, Baby,” you smiled, “You need to eat your banana so you have energy to play with Penny today. Mommy will get another banana ok?”

Penny arrived not long after and quickly took over with Gracie so that the three of you could get out the door.

Jake sent a text to everyone letting them know you were headin the courthouse so they could plan their arrival accordingly. You didn’t know but they’d all made arrangements to take the day off to there to support you. Mav had put in a word with the higher ups to get it approved.  

“It’s going to be OK, Tulip.” Jake said confidently, standing outside of the courthouse. “No matter the outcome of today’s hearing, in the end, it’s all going work out. Keep your head up, we’ve all got you.”

“We’re right here by your side, Sweetheart.” Bradley added, “Not going anywhere, no matter what happens. None of us are.”

“There’s zero chance I’d make it through this without you guys.” You said, your voice shaky with emotion. “Thank you both for being my strength when I’m not so sure I can be strong on my own.”

“Y/N Seresin you are the strongest woman I know.” Jake said, “Even when you don’t believe it. You’d be just fine on your own, but you’ll never have to find out. We love you and we’ll always have your back.”

“Every one of us.” Phoenix said walking over to you. You turned to see the entire Squadron and Mav waking up. Overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support from your new found family you turned into Bradley’s embrace and burst into tears. Knowing the reason behind the tears, Jake added his support hugging you from behind, sandwhiching you in the middle of himself and Bradley. The rest of team formed a huddle, essentially forming one giant group hug.

“I can add this to the list of unexpected experiences.” Jake joked, trying to ease your anxiety. “Glad I showered this morning.”

You let you a laugh, muffled by Bradley’s chest. The squad started to separate allowing you to take a step back and look at everyone.

“Y’all are the best.” You said, “Obviously I can’t even put into words how much this means to me that you’re all here.”

“Nowhere we’d rather be.” Phoenix said smiling, slipping her hand into Jake’s.

“And that’s saying a lot coming from a bunch of aviators who’d always rather be in the air than on the ground.” Coyote added. “But you don’t mess with one of our own without getting all of us.”

“We should get inside, Ms. Kennedy wants meet with Tulip before going in.” Jake said, ushering everyone toward the entrance.

Bradley took your hand walking along side you into the building. Once inside you all had to go through security and then were directed toward the correct courtroom. Lauren was waiting outside when you all got there.

“Good morning, Y/N.” Lauren greeted, smiling,“Looks like you have your whole support system in attendance today.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You smiled back, “My family has expanded over the last month. I’m very lucky to have them all in my corner.”

“You can never have too many in your corner.” She said, “If you want to come on into the conference room with me, we can go over what to expect today.”

“We’ll go in and get seated, Y/N.” Mav said, “Keep your chin up, Kid. You’ve got this.”

“Thank you, Mav.” You replied, smiling at him, then you turned to Lauren, “Can Jake and Bradley come in with us?”

“Absoultely.” She replied, leading the way into the conference room a few doors down from the courtroom you’d be in shortly. “Jake, I’ve met, Bradley, you  I’ve only heard about. You were there both times Trent showed up and broke the court order?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Bradley replied, “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for everything you’re doing for Y/N and Gracie.”

“It’s absolutely my pleasure.” She replied, “I’m glad Y/N has such an amazing support team. I take it, you’ve take my advice then and have started living again, Y/N?”

“Yes.” You replied, looking over at Bradley and smiling. “We were actually coming back from our first date when Trent showed up the first time. Things have progressed since then.”

“Good. You look happy,” She observed, “You deserve to be happy. How’s Gracie doing, she’s pretty little, so I’m guessing she’s pretty resilient and not aware of everything going on around her.”

“She’s great.” You beamed, “She picks up on when emotions are running high. She knew something was wrong when Trent showed up and Nat sent her out to get Jake and Bradley. But she’s a happy little girl that makes friends wherever she goes.”

“She’s already claimed Bradley as her own.” Jake added, winking at you. “She’s got the whole squadron wrapped around her little Princess finger.”

“She owns me.” Bradley admitted, chuckling. Looking at you, smiling he added, “Her momma does too.”

“Alright, that’s exactly what I love to hear.” Lauren said, smiling at the three of you. “Let’s make sure when we leave here today we have all the loose ends tied up to allow you to move foreward with your new family, Y/N.”

“Is that a possibility?” You asked, afraid to get your hopes up. “I figured Trent would do something to drag it all out somehow.”

“In this case, his actions have tied his hands. Literally and figuratively.” She said. “He’s established that he’s verbally abusive and left marks on you while trying to forceuflly remove you from your residence against your will. You’re not asking for anything other than what you left Texas with. You’ve got the order of protection that was violated twice… Sweetie, the odds are in your favor that the judge will happily grant you the divorce today. In terms of disolving Trent’s parental rights, again we can establish he’s a danger to Gracie’s wellbeing, we can establish a lack of involvement prior to the request based on the texts we saved, and he was planning on removing her from your residence along with you against your will. He will be doing jail time for the second violation of the order of protection and we can use that to our advantage as well. It at least gets you full custody with zero visitation from him.”

“I don’t want him being anything to my little girl.” You said. “I know I can’t erase her DNA, but I need to erase him from her life on paper… please help me do that.”

“I will be pushing for that, Y/N.” Lauren assured you. “Is there another reason you’d need Trent to sign away his rights or to have them removed?”

“So that I can give Gracie the daddy she deserves.” You whispered, “The daddy she loves and who loves her.”

“Sweetheart.” Bradley said, taking your hand and turning you to face him, “It doesn’t matter what a piece of paper says or what DNA says, or even what her last name is. That little Princess is already my baby girl and will be my baby girl forever.”

“He’s right, Tulip.” Jake added softly, “She’s already claimed him as her Daddy Woosta. She doesn’t care if it’s not official in the courts. To her it’s already real. And he’s ‘daddy’ on the emergency contact list at daycare so I’d say that’s official.”

“I’d say that’s about all that matters too.” Lauren said, “The rest is just the icing on the cake. I’ll do my best to make sure that cake has icing when you’re ready to add it. Sound like a plan?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You replied, wiping tears from your eyes. “He won’t be physically allowed in the courtroom today, right?  Just his lawyer can appear?”

“Correct.” Lauren said, “Due to him being currently incarcerated pending his court appearance and due to the order of protection.”

“Ok.” You replied, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Alright. The judge is due into court in about fifteen minutes so let’s go in and get seated until your case is called.” Lauren said, “I believe yours is the first one on the docket for the day.”

The three of you walked back down to the courtroom where the others had already gone in and found seats close to them but where you were directed to sit by the court deputy. You tried to keep from bouncing out of the chair with nervous energy. Jake ended up holding one of your hands and Bradley holding the other in order to prevent you from twisting them into knots.

“Breathe, Sweetheart.” Bradley whispered, “It’ll all be over soon.”  

Jake squeezed the hand he was holding three times to let you know he loved you, you squeezed back, looking over with a small smile.

“All rise for the Honorable Judge Edwards” The deputy called out. Everyone stood while the judge walked into the courtroom from his chambers and took his spot.

“You may be seated” He said.

The deputy called the first court of the day, your case. Lauren stood up and addressed the Judge going over what was requested and a little bit of the history. He took a moment to review the files in front of him, asking her clarifying questions here and there. The entire time you sat there, feeling as though you would throw up from the nerves. You regretted eating the  banana and toast that morning, and prayed it didn’t make a reappearence in the courtroom.

“After reviewing everything Ms. Kennedy has provided as well as the countersuits provided by Mr. Andrews on behalf of his client, and taking into consideration the two violations of the order of protection put into place not even a month ago,” Judge Edwards said, “It’s really a no brainer here on dissolving this marriage. Mr. Andrews, you can relay to your client that even though it wasn’t requested, I am ordering that all assets be split equally between parties. I cannot in good conscience allow this young woman who has already been through the wringer, to walk away with nothing, especially when there is a child involved. I’m assuming young lady, and correct me if I am wrong, but I believe I saw an added note for a request for name change in this paperwork, so is ok if I address you as Ms. Seresin?”

“Yes, You Honor.” You said, standing up next to Lauren when she held her hand out to you and smiled.

“Ms. Seresin.” He continued, “I am happy to push that name change through for you as well here today, I’m sure you remember how much work is involved in changing your name, but I don’t blame you one bit. As for the custody and  parental rights of the your child. I would love to settle that for you today, but that is not within my power to do so. I will be referring you to a family court and will personally put a rush on that, there are a few judges over there that owe me favors. Mr. Owens, you would be wise to advise your client it would be in his best interests to think about coming to an agreement ahead of the next court date. Is there anything else I can do for you today, Ms. Seresin?”

“No, Sir.” You replied, your voice shaking with emotion.  “Thank you so much for everything you’ve already done, Your Honor.”

“You’re very welcome.” He replied, “You are a free woman, Ms. Seresin.  Ms. Kennedy, file this at the clerk’s desk on your way out, they’ll get it expedited for you.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” She replied. She turned towards you and motioned for you all to head towards the exit.

Once you were out of the courtroom you collapsed into Bradley’s arms, overcome with the mixed emotions. You were elated to finally be freed from Trent, but devastated that you hadne’t yet freed your little girl. Bradley held you tightly to him, supporting you against him, letting you breathe and reign in the tears.

“It’s all Ok, Sweetheart.” he whispered, “Let it out. I’ve got you.”

“We’re halfway there, Tulip.” Jake said, rubbing your back, “We had to get you out in order to get Princess G out, Ok?”

“They’re right, Sweetie.” Lauren said gently, “This is good. Judge Edwards was our best case scenario today. I’ve known him for years. He was actually the judge that got me out of my marriage. I knew we had this in the bag when I saw the docket. His friends in the family court will be the same way. It’s no longer a matter of ‘If”, Y/N. It’s now just ‘when’.”

“So what happens now?” You asked, finding your voice.

“Now…” She said, smiling, “I go get copies of these papers, and then I file them with the clerk. These papers mean you, Y/N, are no longer married to Trent. They mean your legal last name is once more Seresin… meaning a very long wait at the DMV and Social Security office… and they mean you get to 100% take back your life. I will get the custody and parental rights forms refiled with Judge Edwards signatures so they’re rushed. I’ll call you when I hear anything, ok?”

“Thank you.” You choked out past the trears once more clogging your throat, “Thank you so much for everything.”

“You’re so welcome, Sweetie.” She replied, hugging you. “Let’s get your copies so you can go celebrate with your family.”

Once outside of the courthouse, you stopped and took a deep breath, tipping your head back to  let the sun wash over your face, the warmth of it washing away all of the worries, the anxiety, the unhappiness. You were finally free of Trent. You were Y/N Seresin again.

“I’d say this calls for a celebration.” Mav said. “Since we’ve got the day off, let’s head to the beach. I’ll get pizzas and coolers of drinks and everyone can let off some steam.”

“Sounds good to me!” Fanboy agreed.

“I’m in!” Bob said.

“Dogfight Football!” Coyote cheered.

“What do you think, Tulip?” Jake asked, “Beach day with the fam? Gracie can nap there under the umbrella when she’s sleepy.”

“I think it sounds perfect.” You agreed, smiling at them all. Jake and Phoenix walked ahead with the others, everyone discussing plans for the impromptu beach day.

“You Ok, Sweetheart?” Bradley asked, slipping his hand into yours, entwining your fingers together as you slowly started to walk to the truck.

You paused walking, pulling Bradley to a stop with you. He looked down at you with a look of concern until he saw you smiling up at him.

“I’m not married.” You said, letting go of his hand so you could wrap your arms around his neck.

“No you’re not.” He agreed, smiling down at you, his own arms wrapping around your waist.

“I’m 100% free to date and give my heart to whomever I want.” You said, your smile growning.

“You are.” He agreed, his own smile growing with your words.

“I was waiting for this moment.” You said, taking a deep breath, your eyes getting lost in his own,  “I love you Bradley Bradshaw, so, so much. I have since the first night you stayed over… maybe even before that… and it scared me at first but only because I thought I was stuck and you deserved someone who could love you freely without all of the baggage… but I AM free… so you’re stuck with me now, no returns and all that…”

He stopped your babbling, leaning down and capturing your lips with his own, pouring all of the love he’s felt but hasn’t said out loud into the kiss. His tongue licked over your lips seeking entrance, which you granted, your own tongue dancing over his, as the kiss deepened.

“I love you too, Y/N Seresin.” He rasped, when the need for oxygen drew the two of you apart. “I love you so damn much. No returns. No givebacks. It’s for keeps.”

“Let’s go get our girl and go to the beach.” You said, stealing another kiss. “It’s time to celebrate our fresh start.”

“Let’s get our girl.” He agreed.

A/N: I am SO sorry for the wait on that one! I promise there is more to come! There are TWO more planned chapters this story, so stay tuned!!! What are your thoughts on this one??? 

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[questionableratatouille00]

𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 11

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/n has accepted Natasha’s passing. She believes that it’s safe to say she’s moved on. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t still love Nat, and that she doesn’t care about the time they spent together, it just means that she’s able to continue living, even after a tragic event. But that’s not the only way she’s going to be moving.

Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.

Warnings: dead romantic partners, moving.

🌻Series Masterlist 🌻

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭

𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚜 𝙻𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛

Things were going good with Wanda and the rest of the group. You and Wanda’s relationship was only getting stronger, and you didn’t even have to tell the group that you two were dating; they already knew.

You walked out of the therapy office, Wanda’s hand laced in yours.

“See you all next week!” She called towards the group, waving goodbye. You waved too, and grinned.

You hopped into the driver’s seat of your car, and she got in the passenger’s seat. As you pulled out of the parking lot, she flicked on the radio.

‘Fearless’ by Taylor Swift played softly.

“I know we’ve only been together for a while, but..do you think that you’d ever move in with me?” She asked suddenly, and you were shocked.

“What?” Your voice cracked awkwardly.

“Would you ever move in with me?”

You thought about it for a moment, before coming to your conclusion.

“Yes.” You murmured.

“Will you move in with me?” Wanda asked a week or so later.

“Yes.” You pressed a kiss to her lips.

And so, here you were. Packing up all of your belongings into boxes. All of your friends were there helping, so it wasn’t all sad. Even Sharon and Yelena had shown up.

“Hi.” Yelena greeted Bucky again, drawing out the ‘i’.

Bucky glanced at Steve, before greeting her back.

You just shook your head and laughed.

Sharon was making friends with your friends, and you were glad that they liked her and she liked them.

A year ago, you’d had no friends. And now you were surrounded by them.

Something about that sentiment made your eyes water, though you quickly pushed it away.

You were going to miss your apartment. You’d shared the apartment with Natasha. It felt like leaving the apartment was leaving the last traces of her.

But you’d realized that she’d always really be with you, no matter where you lived.

Sam and Bruce were packing up the kitchen, all of your plates and silverware you intended to keep.

Clint and Tony were taking care of all of the bookshelves and decor. Thor, Steve, and Bucky were packing up things like the mixer and the coffee machine.

You and Wanda were packing up your bedroom.

“This is a cute shirt,” she murmured as she held up one of your shirts. You chuckled as she tossed it to you.

As you folded it and set it in the box, she continued setting empty hangers in their own box.

The days went by quicker. And not in the ‘days-are-all-blending-together-and-I-feel-like-shit’ way. But in a good way.

Things were getting better.

Maybe you were moving on.

A/n: we’re getting close to the end. Makes me a bit emotional, if I’m honest. Thank you so so much for reading, and please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed!! It motivates me a lot.

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, sixy-nine

AN: I’ve been waiting literal years to get to chapter 69, but alas. It didn’t work out the way I wanted it to. In fact, I think this chap is going to be split in two. Hopefully the second half will be up by the end of the weekend. Please enjoy and lmk via comment or reblog if you’re still out there.

Aelin leaned her head back into the seat rest and let the wind whip through her long hair, her stress melting away with each mile they drove away from Orynth. In the aftermath of the Evalin debacle, she was more than ready for a full week of nothing resembling schoolwork or stress whatsoever. Nothing but relaxation, sunshine, and sex. She’d even made a special trip to the mall with Manon and Elide to purchase a few new nightgowns for the occasion. And she could not wait to show them off. And honestly, she couldn’t wait to have sex in a real bed. Her knees were totally bruised and red from the back seat of the Jeep. She sighed happily, imagining the week-full of scantily clad moments and couldn’t help but look over at Rowan, who was hyper focused as he made his way through the winding highways at the base of the Terrasen mountains.

She took a moment to truly ogle him. The flex of his forearm as he made his way meticulously around every curve. His furrowed brow and his recently cropped hair showing off the thick column of his throat. One of his teeth peeked from between his pillowy lips, gnawing on the skin there, completely oblivious to Aelin’s lusting.

“Aelin, look away from your boyfriend before he crashes the car,” Lysandra laughed from the backseat, causing Aedion to snort loudly beside her. “Could you be any hornier? Gods.”

“Yes,” Rowan smirked, still not taking his eyes off the road ahead of him. Okay, so maybe not completely oblivious. “You sure your parents won’t care that we’re spending the week at their beach house?” Rowan asked Lysandra for approximately hundredth time since she’d pitched the idea the week earlier.

“They’re on a luxury cruise on the coast of the Southern continent for the rest of the month,” she replied, giving her same answer no matter how many times he asked for reassurance.

The plan had come together fairly last minute, not that Aelin was complaining. She’d anticipated her spring break being a boring (but still delightful) affair of vegging out in front of the television, but this was going to be a whole lot better. Obviously, spring break was a minefield of substance use (and abuse), and Lysandra had pitched the idea of a sober week at her parents’ completely empty beachside mansion. Aelin could tell that Lysandra was feeling genuinely nervous about the prospect of being alone, and Aelin was happy to gather a group of people, who would enjoy a week of sobriety. Manon and Elide had jumped at the opportunity to be unsupervised for a week, while Dorian had pratically thrown himself across the table asking to join. (Apparently his dad had been more annoying than usual as he waited for college apps to roll in). And though Aelin had anticipated Chaol not wanting to participate, given whatever weirdness was going on with him and Dorian, he also seemed exciting to come.

What Aelin hadn’t anticipated, though, was her cousin’s presence. He was waiting at Lysandra’s, suitcase in hand, as Rowan and Aelin swung by earlier this morning. He’d waved her raised brow off with a loud, “Let’s get this sober party started!” And that was, apparently that.

She looked behind her at the pair, wondering what was actually going on between them. Despite the absence of any kind of drugs or alcohol, Aelin had a distinct feeling this week was going to be a wild one.

. . .

The house was… incredible. She’d seen pictures of it before, but Lysandra’s family used it primarily as an event space, renting it out during the summer months. It was still slightly too chilly to utilize the beach, so it sat, dark and empty. But, just stepping into the brightly lit foyer, Aelin felt lighter than air.

“You and Rowan are in the master on the fourth floor,” Lysandra said, pointing to the staircase.

“Really?”

“Aedion requested that you both be out of earshot from him,” she said with a teasing smile.

“And where is my dear cousin going to be sleeping?” Aelin asked, curiosity peaking.

Lysandra rolled her eyes, and Aelin didn’t fail to notice that wasn’t an answer.

“Manon and Elide are stopping for takeout, so text them with your order ASAP,” she said instead.

Aelin was going to push further, but Rowan came sweeping in beside her, their suitcases in hand, and starting running up the stairs.

“Race ya!”

“That’s cheating!”

Aelin tripped over her own sneakers trying to get ahead of him, but the man was built like a tree trunk, and no matter how many times she tried to snake around him, he blocked her again and again.

Finally, as they rounded the corner to master suite, Aelin was able to pull ahead. And the sight that awaited her was even better than she could have imagined.

Squealing, she took off in a run before falling back, full body flopping and bouncing onto the

king-sized bed, which took up the center of the room. She sighed happily as she stared up at the billowy canopy above her, the smell of beachside breeze surrounding her as Rowan cracked open their giant bay window. Behind a set of gauzy curtains was a private balcony, overlooking the beach and the ocean beyond it, and Aelin felt like royalty with how good everything felt. She could get used to this.

With a wide smile, Rowan came and flopped next to her, both of them bouncing in tandem off the mattress and crashing down into each other in a breathless pile of limbs.

“Hi,” Rowan said, curling his body towards hers, his green eyes dark as his hand ran its way under the hem of her shirt. She inched forward in return, leaning into the pads of his fingers as they circled the skin of her back.

“Hi.”

Her voice sounded breathless to her own ears. Although, that could be due to the fact that they’d just sprinted up four flights of stairs.

“Dinner! Text.” Lys shouted up the stairs, breaking the spell between them momentarily. She jotted off a quick text, then resumed her position staring at Rowan. Gods, he was so beautiful. And she was so lucky to have him. His fingers never ceased their movement, delicately running up and down the curve of her side, as his face relaxed into a contended smile. She briefly had the urge to pull her journal from her backpack and record this moment, this prolonged moment of touching between them, as she had before they’d admitted their feelings for each other. The shadow of a past that she barely knew anymore.

She’d brought the journal in hopes that she’d be able to write out any of her feelings regarding her murky future, but with Rowan’s face merely inches away, it all seemed so clear. She’d only ever need him. Unable to resist the pull between them for a second longer, she tugged the collar of his shirt toward her and pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss.

He mumbled something against her mouth, but she was too blissed out to really hear his words.

“Shouldn’t we go downstairs,” he laughed, as she trailed kisses down his throat. “Help Lys unpack the groceries and games and stuff?”

“Mmm, no,” Aelin said, rolling her boyfriend to his back and lifting up his shirt to scatter soft kisses against his abs. She loved the way they clenched beneath her touch. It made her feel so powerful. Rowan snorted loudly, but it morphed quickly into a groan as she fiddled with the waistband of his pants.

“Ace,” he attempted to admonish her. “Friends. Downstairs.”

“Guess we’ll just have to be quiet.”

He flopped back onto the fluffy white comforter with a muffled groan as Aelin tugged on his pants. And as she started to move over him, she errantly thought she should have texted her friends that they would be late to dinner and not to wait for them.

. . .

They were indeed late for dinner. But no one minded. The table was filled with chatter between their friends, who barely spared the freshly showered pair a glance as they walked in. They table was mid-card game already, and Aelin laughed loudly as she figured out they were playing an extremely intense game of Go Fish between bites of their seafood feast.

“Go. Fish,” Aedion said confidently, causing Dorian’s blue eyes to narrow with irritation.

“If you have a three you have to give it to me,” Dorian insisted, causing Aedion to smirk back.

“I know how to play the game, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

A matching smirk appeared on Dorian’s face, and the sudden moment of silence was so charged that Aelin felt herself warm slightly. Looking around the table, she knew she was not the only one who noticed. The tension coming from both Lysandra and Chaol’s tight smiles was palpable.

Well, that was certainly an interesting development.

“Dorian, do you have any fives?” Manon cut in, apparently observing the same situation that Aelin had.

The spark died quickly as the game progressed, but it didn’t escape Aelin’s attention that Chaol’s eyes flicked between Aedion and Dorian a few dozen times. He’d insisted they were fine and that the moment they spent as more than friends was just a blip in the past, but given his furrowed brow and tipped frown, Aelin had a feeling that wasn’t exactly true. Poor Chaol.

The rest of the night followed without incident — they received a full house tour from Lysandra, who showed them how to use the highly complicated smart house settings, which included internet, lights, the thermostat and auto-timed blackout shades. She also led them out to the deck and taught them how to turn on the hot tub, as well as the outdoor lights and music system. After she taught them how to turn on the projector in the theater room, and where everything had been put away in the kitchen, they decided they deserved an evening of rest. They all gathered on the family room the couch to eat copious amounts of candy and popcorn and watch a horror comedy that Aedion had picked. Aelin was glad she and Rowan had gotten in some alone time earlier, because somewhere toward the middle of the movie, she could feel her eyes getting heavy with sleep.

“You okay?” she could hear Rowan ask somewhere just out of reach of the depths of her exhaustion.

She mumbled a soft, “I’m asleep,” as she flopped harder onto his chest, and she could feel the rumble of his laughter beneath her cheek as he stroked her hair, and that was all she remembered.

She didn’t wake until hours later when the first hints of buttery sunlight peaked through the curtains of their master suite. Based on Rowan’s soft and steady breath beside her, she knew it must be really early, and a quick glance at the clock told her it wasn’t even six yet. Despite not being a morning person at all, she felt invigorated and inspired. She crept quietly out of bed, throwing on a pair of sweats and grabbing her journal before heading downstairs.

The delicious aroma of coffee awaited her downstairs, a full pot already brewed from the fancy machine Lysandra had taught them how to use last night in their detailed house tour. She looked around to see who else was awake, but the kitchen was completely empty. Instead of doing further inspection, she poured a hefty amount of hazelnut creamer into her coffee and grabbed a blanket from the stack on the end of the couch to wrap around her shoulders before making her way onto the deck.

The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon when she settled in at the outdoor table with her coffee. Awash in the beauty of the blue waves softly lapping at the shore of the beach, contrasting with the deep purple and pink sky first tinged with the first rays of the firey red-orange sun, Aelin felt like she could finally breathe for the first time in a long time.

Her worn journal was battered and bruised, and she regretted that it had been ignored in the recent months, in favor of her color-coded planner. It was her dad who’d reminded her of its existence, wondering if she wouldn’t feel better if she put pen to paper about how she was feeling. And though she wasn’t exactly sure what was going to come out, she placed her pen against a fresh page and took off. As the words formed in her messy sloping print, she found herself writing about the moment itself. She wanted to remember this sky, the way the sunlight spilled over the darkness like a molten lava, lighting up the horizon like a fire, starting deep glowing red, then turning a burning orange, until it became unmistakably golden.

She didn’t know how long she’d been writing for when the seats next to her started to fill up with her friends, but the sun was firmly fixed in the sky, daylight pouring over the wide expanse of sand and glistening atop the ocean’s placid undulations. She shut her journal and reached for her coffee mug, which had been freshly filled and was steaming again. Her glance drifted next to her where Rowan lifted his own mug, which read “World’s Best Granddad” in a scrawling script, in an air cheers, and they both smiled as they took a sip in unison.  

“So, what’s on the agenda today, Miss Lys?” Aedion asked, clapping his hand loudly on her shoulder.

Lys glanced up at him with a beaming smile. “Glad you asked.”

Lysandra had put in more prep than Aelin had even anticipated, making sure that they had multiple activity options for each day they spend there. Aelin had known Lysandra was nervous about this week, but she hadn’t realized exactly how nervous until she saw Lys’s list for potential activities and which weather they’d be best for.

Since the weather was abnormally warm for this time of year, they decided to take advantage of the sunshine and explore the local town. It was a short walk from the house, and though it was pretty much just two streets of “downtown,” it was fun to look into each of the darkened windows, seeing where tourists would line up to indulge in artisan fudge and hand crafted beach bags, decadent scoops of ice cream, and kitschy beachwear as soon as summer came around.  

“Sup, buttmunch?” Aedion swung a large arm around Aelin’s shoulders as they ambled down the main street.

Aelin’s instinct was to shrink out of her cousin’s arms and tell him to fuck off, but he had the distinct privilege of catching her in a moment where she was trying to relish the moment. She remembered how hard it sucked when he went away to college, how far away he felt, and couldn’t resist leaning into his grasp. It only caused him confusion.

“You good?”

Aelin nodded. But Aedion knew her too well.

“I heard about your mom.”

Well, that caught Aelin’s attention.

“What? How?”

He nodded toward Lysandra. “Don’t be mad if she wasn’t supposed to tell. She was just… worried. If anyone knows about parental issues…”

Aelin shrugged. “I’m okay.” But Aedion wasn’t satisfied with that answer and proceeded to pinch her side. “OW!”

She must have reacted too exuberantly because before she could say anything, Rowan was there, hovering and worrying and asking Aedion what was going on.

“I’m fine, buzzard,” she laughed, shooing him away.

“Sorry I upset your bodyguard,” Aedion chuckled. And it felt so natural to just be with him that she almost cried. She thought about the way their relationship had ebbed and flowed in the last two years, and she regretted… a lot. She loved Aedion. And cutting him out was one of the worst things she’d done in a long list of mistakes.

“He’s fine. And so am I,” Aelin reassured her cousin, who was still peering at her with the eyes she saw in the mirror every day. Damn, it was so hard to lie to him. “Or, I will be.” She took a deep breath. “I’m just looking forward to a week with no drama.”

At that, Aedion snorted loudly.

“I’m sorry, you gathered a group of stressed out couples and almost couples and former couples and expected them not to bring you drama?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

Aelin’s jaw dropped. “And which one are you?”

“I don’t believe in labels,” he replied, puffing out his chest. But his posturing was short-lived as he lowered his voice. “Dorian is… nice.”

“I KNEW IT!” Aelin hissed.

“Shush,” he chastised her, pulling her closer.

“But what about Lys?” she asked.

And she saw the way Aedion’s eyes glazed over with concern as he sought out the brunette in front of them. “She’s an incredible human, and I like her a lot.” He paused. “Maybe more than I should.” He sighed as he looked down at Aelin again. “She’s strong as hell, and she’d straight up die for anyone she cares about. It reminds me a lot of someone else I know…” He chuckled. “But, she’s not allowed to date for at least another six months, according to her sobriety rules. And she said she’ll probably follow it for longer, given how fucked up her last relationship was. And, she’s straight up told me that. And I have to respect that. So, yeah, I’m looking elsewhere.” He paused, his eyes sliding to Dorian’s swaying hips a few feet in front of them. “And elsewhere is cute.”

Aelin rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and elsewhere has a former-almost relationship sleeping next door to him.”

“I know,” Aedion laughed. “Which is why I think you should be prepared for drama,” he said, tickling her side. “I know you can’t possssibly understand because you’re in the most incredible amazing relationship ever, but…”

“You talking about my butt?” Dorian quipped, winking over his shoulder, and Aedion’s cheeks had the audacity to turn pink.

Aelin didn’t think she’d ever seen him blush before, and she couldn’t believe the shade of scarlet he turned at Dorian’s attention. Which… was worrisome, given Chaol and Lysandra’s sudden tension in their posture. Drama. Oh dear. Perhaps Aedion was right. Aelin considered herself warned.

. . .

When they got back to the house, everyone was ordered to leave the kitchen. Manon and Chaol (of all people!) had decided to cook everyone a gourmet dinner. Unbeknownst to anyone, Chaol had pursued an interest in the culinary arts and he was enamored by the technology available to him in Lysandra’s parents’ kitchen. And apparently Manon was an excellent chef, according to Elide, who had enjoyed many meals via her girlfriends’ talents. As they had walked by a local grocery, they’d picked up all the ingredients they needed for the most delicious dinner ever. They spent their time walking through the aisles, deciding what to prepare and landed on a multi-course meal that would knock everyone’s socks off. Apparently last night’s takeout was… fine, but they wanted something more elevated. Just from overhearing their planning, Aelin had deduced dinner would consist of several different salads, seared scallops, a complicated steak dish, and a dessert that Aelin would be dreaming about for hours. She thought perhaps they had watched too much Top Chef, but who was she to complain about receiving the fruits of their labor?

Since the group had hours to kill and the sun was starting to sink into the horizon and leave the house shrouded in dark shadow, Lys suggested that they start up the hot tub while Manon and Chaol manned the kitchen. Elide and Chaol had offered themselves up as sous chefs to help with any prep, but they were rejected, leaving them to join the hot tub crew. Aelin felt absolutely great about that. And as soon as she put on her bikini, so did Rowan. His hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her close and nuzzling his face into her neck. “Mmm, you smell so good,” he moaned, and Aelin couldn’t resist smiling widely as she remembered the multiple nightgowns she’d brought and hadn’t taken out yet. Rowan would be dying. And they’d be putting this master bed with its fluffy mattress and even fluffier comforter to good use. She’d specifically bought a few sexy nightgowns in colors she knew he would love – gold, green, and red. But she was careful to push them to the bottom of the suitcase and out of Rowan’s view. After arranging the clothes just so, so everything was out of sight, she placed her her journal on top to and pulled her bathing suit out.

He was already clad in low-slung shorts, which highlighted his abs in an obscene way, and she contemplated saying fuck it to the hot tub and just pulling him into bed right in that very moment, but she also knew that she should be social and that this was not just a sexcation for her and her boyfriend. When she looked at the wide expanse of his chest and thick roped arms that was hard to remember. So she pulled him out of the room quickly, not wanting to tempt herself more than she needed.

In the hot tub, Lys and Aedion were already stewing in the steamy water, seltzers in hand as they tried to control their temperature. Aelin stepped in and let the lapping bubbles overtake her, sliding onto a seat that was right next to a pulsing jet. She couldn’t help but moan, causing all the eyes in the hot tub to slide to her.

“Sorry,” she apologized, causing a round of laughter to take off.

Dorian and Elide slinked in shortly after, and even though Aelin was leaning hard into Rowan’s side, she kept an eye on Aedion and Dorian and Lys, wondering exactly what was going on between all of them at every moment. Rowan definitely noticed at one point, elbowing her side, but she ignored him.

“Ugh, I’m overheated,” Rowan complained about thirty minutes into their soak.

“Really? I’m perfect,” Aelin replied, causing everyone to laugh.

Rowan shook his head, laughing at his girlfriend. “I’m gonna take a cold shower and then I’ll be back,” he assured her, leaving her with a solid kiss that left Aelin breathless.

“Y’all are as disgusting as ever,” Aedion said, causing Dorian to snort loudly.

“That’s nothing,” he added. “Wait until you see them in the minutes before they head to their not-so-secret parking lot spot to fuck.”

Aelin’s cheek’s filled with blood at his words, but she wasn’t ashamed. “Whatever,” she laughed off.

Even Elide joined in the razzing, making Aelin realize that maybe she and Rowan were more obvious than they let on. She was so busy laughing that she barely realized that Rowan hadn’t rejoined them until everyone was getting out of the tub an hour later.

As she walked through the kitchen, she sniffed in the incredible aromas and told Manon that she was looking forward to dinner, to which her friend simply replied, “You better be.”

Dripping slightly, she skipped up the stairs to the master bedroom. Rowan was laid out on the bed, his eyes closed, and Aelin assumed that he was simply exhausted, and walked herself straight into the shower. She showered the chlorine out of her hair and took extra time to shave her legs all the way up to her hips, making sure that she was feeling good and confident about being alone with Rowan tonight.

But when she made her way out to the bedroom, Rowan was staring at her with such vitriol that she was taken aback.

“Uh, hi?” she asked, and he simply scoffed.

“Hi.” She wrapped the towel tighter around her chest and looked at him for real. He did not look happy. His frown tugged down exaggeratedly and his brow was crinkled with stress lines.

“You okay?” she asked, even though the answer was an obvious no.

“Just wondering why you’re with me if you think I’m inconsiderate and emotionally stunted,” he said super casually, as if he hadn’t said something completely insane.

“What?”

He reached for her journal, which she hadn’t even realized was in his grasp, and held it in front of them.

“Apparently you think I’m selfish and horrible and completely unworthy of your attention, so I guess I’m not so sure of what you’re doing with me.”

Aelin was aghast.

“You read my journal?”

He scoffed, as if he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Well, it was out there for anyone to see. I barely had to flip through it to see all the shit you wrote about me,” he said, annoyed as ever. But all it did was spur Aelin’s anger. How…dare he?

She snatched the journal from his hands and clutched it to her still damp chest.

“You’re not even denying it. You read my journal.”

He stuck his nose into the air, not denying a thing, and Aelin’s heart panged with a hurt so large she thought maybe she was having a heart attack.

“That wasn’t okay, Ro.”

“Obviously,” he quipped. “This is where you write how much you fucking hate me.”

She could feel herself vibrating with anger as she opened the journal in front of him. “Oh yeah? I hate you?” she sassed. “Then please tell me why I spent all of the summer between junior and senior year cataloguing every time you touched me? Because I hated you?” she seethed. “This journal is my most private thoughts and feelings,” she admitted. “And most of them are about how in love with you I am.” She took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking with every deep breath. “So you read the one page where I was frustrated that you didn’t love me too? Get over it, Rowan. You put me through hell. HELL!” she shouted. “You didn’t give me any signal that you loved me too, at all. So, sorry if I had one stupid journal entry talking about how frustrated I was with you. If you had turned the fucking page,” she said, turning the page for effect. “You would have seen how stupidly obsessed and in love I was with you, but you don’t deserve to read that either.”

She shook with her anger, unaffected by the change in her boyfriends’ expression.

“Now get out.”

“But—”

“Get out.”

She watched as Rowan gathered himself off the bed and headed out the door, and she chose to ignore the small furrow in Rowan’s brow or the clenching of his jaw, as she slammed the door shut.

How dare he. Like, really. How. Dare. He? He had no right to invade her privacy and then be mad about what he’d discovered. Not to mention, if he’d only skipped ahead a few pages in the journal he would have stumbled on a time stamped record of every time he’d touched her, making her skin light on fire with lust and wanting. I’m fact, nearly 99% of that journal was just wishing and hoping that he’d ever look her way or see her as more than a friend. It was the contents of a lovestruck puppy. But NO. He had to crack open her journal and peer inside the one, single day where she hated the wanting and the pain from wanting so bad that she had to get it out — expel the poison from inside her, knowing that none of it was really how she felt. It wasn’t true then and it certainly wasn’t true now. And he knew that! So, how dare he have the audacity to be upset about her most private painful thoughts when he was the one invading them?

She could feel tears burning the edges of her eyelids but refused to let them through. Instead, she sniffed back loudly and tilted her head to the ceiling. An old fan whirred slowly above her, letting out a soft clinking sound with each rotation. One of the blades was slightly off and kept catching the very top of the chain that dangled below. Her breathing steadied as she watched the fan do its wonky loop again and again, the clinking starting to soothe her and she inhaled and exhaled with each sound. 

What a dick.

“UGH!” Aelin pushed herself up and stalked to the door, swinging it back open.

Rowan stood exactly where the door had slammed in his face, and she watched him take a breath, presumably to say he was sorry, but Aelin didn’t care. “Don’t,” she whispered under her breath. “I’m starving, and this dinner sounds so fucking good, and I don’t want to fight.”

“I just want to talk—”

“Well, I don’t,” she snapped.

To his credit, he nodded succinctly, not pushing for more.

“I’m so mad at you,” she continued. “What you did is not okay,” she said, breathing hard and ignoring the way his green eyes pinched at her words. “That journal is my private thoughts and feelings, and you reading it without me… I thought we had boundaries.”

His eyes looked sad as he said, “But I thought we told each other everything.”

And she took a large breath to reply. Because she understood. She really did. “We do. Now. But Ro, that journal is from years and years of our lives. It starts freshman year, and I still use it today. Do you know how many thoughts and feelings I’ve had about you since then?” she asked. She grabbed the journal. “If you turned the page, you would have seen a detailed time stamped spreadsheet of every time you touched me our sophomore year. Literally time stamped. But there were so many times that I wasn’t sure about us. You were with fucking Lyria! For months,” she shouted. “So, how dare you come and be mad at me when you read how I was feeling during that time? I didn’t know if you’d be with me ever.” She took another deep breath, ignoring Rowan’s pained face. “I’m sorry you got your feelings hurt, but I’m not sorry for writing my feelings down in my journal. It was the only way I was able to survive. And youi peaking into that time without acknowledging how hard you hurt me then isn’t just tone deaf, but it's stupid, Ro. Really fucking stupid.”

“I thought you wanted me to read it…” he said, trying to explain himself.

“Well, that was your mistake,” she said, wiping a rogue tear from her cheek.

Rowan apologized, but Aelin barely heard him. She’d wanted to be apart from the drama, but as she and Rowan made her way down to dinner, she realized that they were the drama. And it was about to be everyone else’s problem.