#like 2 days ago i had lunch with my mom and then later i found out she was hiding in the laundry room until i left??

[joaosnovia]

Hiiiii I’ve been waiting sooo long to request from u I looooove ur writing <33

So hear me out luv a Hector Fort long fic (please make it long 8k+) where he’s a popular student and reader is like an unpopular middle class student and she’s kinda bullied for that but Hector starts dating her cuz he loves her but all his friends and people in school start calling her a gold digger and Hector keeps defending her so one day he gifts her a necklace like an expensive one right but she needs money cuz her mom needs meds and her fam aren’t doing well but somehow the popular girl in school that has a crush on Hector finds out and tells him so he thinks reader is actually with him for the money so he fights with her and break up and then later he finds out that she suffered and he regret it when he found her working 2 part time and became always absent in school and got sent to principal cuz she sleeps in class cuz she’s tired from working and make the endings fluffy but please make it angsty like I wanna cry I wanna bawl my lil eyes and heart out (I’m a sucker for angst I litt read sad books all the time)

If you are able to write this I thank u in advance darling <33

Have a great weekend and stay healthy and safe 💙

❦ - unpopular.

summary:: the req.

warnings:: angst but yk that.

writers note:: this took way too long to write but tbf this got requested ages ago and i’d write like once a week but it’s lowkey fun! also there’s a baby ref in this

w/c:: 9k

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb @mariejuli @nngkay

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montserrat academy smelled like money.

not literally, but in that subtle way: clean, polished hallways that echoed too much, perfume lingering in the air even after people had left, crisp uniforms that never seemed to wrinkle, shoes that didn’t scuff, phones without a single crack.

you didn’t belong there. not really.

you’d gotten in on merit, a scholarship, long nights of studying, beating the odds kind of story. your mom cried when you got the acceptance email. your little brother made a paper crown and called you ‘genius queen’ for a week.

but being in didn’t mean being part of.

you sat alone a lot. not because you were a loner, but because lunch tables filled up fast with people who didn’t look twice at you. your clothes weren’t trendy, your shoes were always the same beat-up pair of sneakers, and your accent still carried bits of the neighborhood you came from.

and the others… they noticed.

they didn’t push you or laugh in your face or throw your books across the floor like in those dramatic high school movies. no, it was quieter than that.

it was looking through you when you spoke in class. it was changing the subject when you joined the conversation. it was the way camila once complimented your thrifted bag, and everyone laughed like she’d told a joke.

you weren’t hated. just forgotten. misplaced. tolerated.

but you didn’t come to be liked.

you came to escape.

from the thin walls of your apartment, where you could hear your mom coughing through the night. from the grocery lists that had more crossed-out items than bought ones. from the part-time job you worked after school and on weekends, where your uniform smelled like espresso and burnt toast.

you told yourself that montserrat academy was a ladder.

get good grades. get out. get a future.

so you kept your head down. kept your notebooks full. tuned out the whispers.

until him.

héctor fort didn’t exist in your world. not really. he was the kind of student who was the school. son of someone important. name whispered like legacy. always surrounded. always laughing. not in a loud, obnoxious way, but in that warm, boy next door in a netflix teen show kind of way.

he played football, well. people wore his number on hoodies, not because they were on the team, but because he was the team. he was in all the sports day photos. he was in the group project that won nationals. he was even in the school tour pamphlet they handed to new families.

and he was everywhere.

in the mornings, leaning against his locker. during lunch, surrounded by people who hung on his every word. after class, headphones around his neck, bouncing a ball against his knee like he couldn’t sit still.

you noticed him because everyone did.

he noticed you, and that was the part you didn’t understand.

it started in october.

you were sitting behind the library, your favorite spot, shaded, quiet, full of soft rustling trees and the hum of faraway conversations you didn’t have to join. you liked being alone there. liked how the sun hit your notebook just right, how your soup thermos kept your hands warm.

you were rereading a chapter for literature class when footsteps crunched the leaves.

you didn’t look up right away. people didn’t usually come back here. but then you heard it, the unmistakable, too calm voice:

‘hey.’

you looked up.

héctor.

you blinked, then instinctively checked behind you, half-expecting him to be talking to someone else.

but there was no one.

just you.

‘is this spot taken?’ he asked, nodding toward the patch of grass near you.

you blinked again. ‘uh… no. it’s not.’

he sat. like it was normal. like it was nothing.

you waited for the joke. for someone to pop out with a camera. you waited to wake up.

but he didn’t say anything else. just pulled out a book, your book, actually. same edition, same dog-eared corner you had in yours. and opened it to where the next chapter started.

silence settled.

you told yourself not to read into it. maybe it was a coincidence. maybe he just liked the quiet too.

the next day, he was there again.

and the next.

by friday, he nodded at you like it was a routine. you didn’t even question it anymore. just shifted your bag to give him space and went back to your reading.

you still didn’t talk much. sometimes he’d point out a line in the book and mumble something about it being clever. sometimes you’d make a quiet joke and he’d laugh softly, like he was trying not to make it a big deal.

it wasn’t flirtation. not yet.

it was something else. something slower. something quieter.

and you didn’t understand it. didn’t know why he was choosing this spot when he had all the tables in the courtyard waiting for him. why he started borrowing your highlighters and returning them with smiley faces drawn on the caps. why he lingered a little longer after the bell rang.

but you didn’t ask.

because it felt… safe. and safe wasn’t something you had very often.

one wednesday, he showed up with two drinks.

‘one’s for you,’ he said, handing you a plastic cup with condensation beading down the sides.

you took it cautiously. ‘what is it?’

‘iced cinnamon oat latte,’ he said. ‘the guy at your café said it’s your usual.’

you stared at him.

he just shrugged, a little too casual. ‘i went there this morning. wanted to see if the pastries were as good as you always say.’

you blinked.

‘you went out of your way just to—’

‘they’re mid, by the way,’ he interrupted, sipping his own drink. ‘but this? this is good.’

you smiled, small and stunned.

and he smiled back, like he’d been waiting to see it.

you didn’t know what this was yet.

it wasn’t a relationship. wasn’t friendship, even, not quite.

but it was something. something soft. something beginning.

and even if you didn’t trust it yet… you were starting to hope.

you didn’t plan on him becoming part of your routine.

he just did.

it was subtle at first. like sunlight stretching across your bedroom floor, there before you really noticed, warm before you could name it. héctor started showing up behind the library before you even got there. sometimes with coffee. sometimes with an apple he’d take one bite out of, then forget to finish. always with that calm sort of presence. that ease you envied.

you learned little things.

he bit the inside of his cheek when he was thinking. he had messy handwriting and made his t’s too tall. he hated when people wasted food. he played with his necklace when he was bored. he smiled with one side of his mouth first, like the other had to catch up.

and he asked questions.

soft, curious ones.

‘what do you wanna do after this?’

you looked up from your book.

‘after school, i mean,’ he added. ‘like… life. what’s the plan?’

you shrugged. ‘go to uni. get a job. something stable. maybe sleep more than four hours a night.’

he laughed gently, but his eyes softened.

‘you don’t wanna dream big?’

you looked down. fiddled with the corner of your page.

‘i think surviving is dreaming big,’ you murmured.

he didn’t say anything right away. just nodded, slow, like he got it.

your classmates started noticing before you did.

you could feel the shift. the way people’s eyes followed you when you passed. the way conversations dropped to whispers when you walked into a room. it was subtle, at first. but it grew.

you weren’t invisible anymore. and it didn’t feel like a compliment.

camila started looking at you like you were a stray cat tracking dirt across her marble floors.

‘you and fort,’ she said one day in the hallway, voice sticky sweet, ‘are you, like… a thing?’

you blinked. ‘we’re friends.’

she laughed like that was the funniest thing in the world.

‘right. just checking.’

you didn’t tell héctor. you didn’t want him to feel like he had to defend you. not when things were still… undefined. you didn’t know what he called you when you weren’t around.

but then he asked.

‘do people ever give you shit?’ he said one afternoon, tossing a leaf in the air and catching it.

you paused. ‘what?’

‘about us hanging out.’

you looked at him, quiet.

he sighed. ‘it’s just, someone said something earlier and it pissed me off. they don’t know you. they don’t get it.’

‘get what?’

he blinked. caught your gaze. then shrugged.

‘you’re cool,’ he said simply. ‘you’re real. i like being around you.’

your heart did something weird and fluttery. you hated how easily he made you want to believe him.

‘well,’ you said, trying to keep your voice level, ‘i’m not really used to people liking me for… anything, so. that’s new.’

he looked at you for a second longer than he needed to.

‘they’re idiots if they don’t.’

your shifts at the café got longer. your manager asked you to cover weekends, and you said yes because your mom’s meds weren’t getting cheaper, and you didn’t know how to say no to survival.

you were tired all the time. your eyes stung during lectures. your back hurt from being on your feet too long.

and one friday, héctor showed up at closing.

you didn’t even look up at first, you were too busy restocking sugar packets.

‘hey, stranger.’

your head jerked toward the voice.

him. in sweats. hair damp from practice. a little out of breath like he’d rushed.

‘what are you doing here?’ you asked, blinking.

‘thought you might need company.’

you blinked again. ‘i… i have to mop.’

he grinned. ‘i’m great with mops.’

he wasn’t. he nearly slipped. twice. but he stayed. made you laugh. and when you locked up at the end of the night, he walked you to the bus stop, hands in his hoodie pockets, shoulders brushing yours.

‘thanks,’ you said softly.

he looked at you.

‘for what?’

‘showing up.’

he didn’t answer.

just nudged your hand with his, like he was asking a question without saying anything.

you let your pinky hook around his.

not quite holding hands. not quite nothing, either.

the next week, he brought you a sandwich during break.

‘you didn’t eat at lunch,’ he said, not even looking up from his phone.

you blinked. ‘how’d you—?’

‘you had your sad soup face,’ he shrugged. ‘figured you were tired of leftovers.’

you stared at the sandwich. it had your favorite cheese. the kind you only got when it was on sale.

‘you didn’t have to—’

‘i know,’ he said, finally glancing at you. ‘but i wanted to.’

and that… that was the beginning of the end.

because wanting you?

that was dangerous.

and you were starting to want him back.

by the time december rolled around, everything felt different.

you still woke up early. still packed your brother’s lunch. still worked weekends, still walked to school half-asleep with a thermos in your hands and a hoodie pulled over your ears.

but something in your chest had shifted.

it was the way you checked your phone before anything else, looking for a good morning text with a dumb emoji that never matched the mood. it was the way you stopped bringing soup because héctor always showed up with something better. it was the way his hoodie lived in your backpack now, just in case you needed it.

it was the way he’d learned to say your name like it was something soft.

and the way you stopped flinching when he did.

it was slow, so slow. every step of whatever this was. like he was giving you space to run, even though you didn’t want to anymore.

you hadn’t called it love yet.

not out loud.

but sometimes, when he leaned his head on your shoulder behind the library, when he handed you a drink with your name spelled right and a heart beside it, when he tied your shoe without saying a word and then stood up like it was nothing, you thought, maybe.

maybe.

the first time he asked you to come over, you panicked a little.

‘just a few of us,’ he said, fiddling with the ring on his finger. ‘nothing fancy. we’re watching the barça match. i’ll save you a spot on the couch.’

you hesitated.

you knew what his friends thought of you. knew the names they didn’t say to your face. knew you weren’t the kind of girl they invited to anything.

but you showed up anyway.

your jeans were the only pair you owned without a hole. your hair was in its neatest braid. you brought a bag of chips that cost more than they should have, but you didn’t want to come empty handed.

his house was everything you expected, clean, modern, a little too big for a family of three. his mom smiled politely, offered you juice. his friends barely looked at you.

except camila.

she smiled with teeth. leaned too close to héctor. made comments that danced on the edge of insults, just sharp enough to sting.

but héctor didn’t let you drift.

he kept his knee pressed against yours. he explained the game when you looked confused. he handed you a blanket when it got cold, and when the match ended and his friends were getting ready to leave, he pulled you aside.

‘you okay?’ he asked.

you nodded. too quickly.

he watched you.

‘you don’t have to pretend around me,’ he said, voice low. ‘i notice things too.’

you bit your lip.

‘i’m fine,’ you said. ‘they just… think you could do better.’

his brows pinched, jaw tightening.

‘no,’ he said. ‘they don’t get you. big difference.’

you looked up at him.

he stepped closer.

‘you’re the best part of my day,’ he whispered. ‘they can choke on their opinions.’

you laughed. you couldn’t help it. it burst out, messy and real.

and he looked so pleased with himself.

christmas break was colder than usual.

you worked doubles. your mom’s medicine ran out and insurance wouldn’t cover the new one. the heating in your apartment went out for three days, and you slept in the same bed as your brother, layered in sweatshirts.

you didn’t tell héctor. he was spending the holidays in menorca with his cousins, sending you photos of the beach and dumb santa filters on his face.

you didn’t want to ruin that with your problems.

he texted you the night before new year’s.

hey. can i see you tomorrow? like… actually see you?

you said yes, of course.

he showed up at your building at noon, wearing that navy jacket you liked, a bag in one hand and a little grin tugging at his mouth.

you met him outside, hair still damp from your rushed shower, shoes half-tied.

‘i brought snacks,’ he said. ‘and something else.’

you raised a brow.

he held up a small velvet box.

your stomach dipped.

‘don’t freak out,’ he said quickly. ‘it’s not, like, a thing. i just saw it and thought of you. that’s all.’

you opened it slowly.

inside was a necklace, gold, delicate, a tiny star on a fine chain. barely there, but still beautiful. something that caught the light just right.

‘héctor…’

‘you don’t have to wear it,’ he said, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘i just… you look up at the sky so much, and it made me think of you. that’s dumb, right?’

you shook your head.

‘no. it’s not dumb.’

he reached out, slow.

‘can i…?’

you nodded.

he fastened it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin. you held your breath.

and when he stepped back to look at you, his eyes softened.

‘perfect,’ he said.

you didn’t cry. not then.

but something shifted inside you. something quiet and seismic.

you wore the necklace every day after that.

under your uniform, tucked into your sweater at work. even to sleep. you touched it when you were anxious. let your fingers find the tiny star when you missed him.

you felt… seen.

loved, maybe.

but nothing good stays untouched for long.

camila noticed the necklace two days after school started again.

‘cute,’ she said, twisting her lip. ‘real gold?’

you didn’t answer.

she smirked.

‘must be nice, having a boyfriend with a black card. you’re really playing the long game, huh?’

you froze.

‘what’s that supposed to mean?’

she shrugged. ‘just saying. not everyone gets a promotion from barista to princess without putting in work.’

you walked away before your hands could shake.

you didn’t tell héctor.

again.

but you should’ve.

because you were about to need him more than ever.

the first time he said it, i love you, it wasn’t planned.

no candles, no build-up, no carefully picked moment.

it was raining. you were curled up on his bed, wearing his hoodie, socks mismatched. you were both tired, he had practice all morning, you had two shifts back to back, and your eyes kept fluttering shut during the movie playing in the background.

he turned toward you, head on his arm, eyes soft.

you didn’t even notice right away. not until he said it again, this time quieter. slower. more certain.

‘i love you.’

your breath caught.

he didn’t rush to fill the silence. he didn’t take it back or explain it away. just watched you with that look. the one that made you feel like the world wasn’t spinning so fast. like maybe you could stop running and rest for a minute.

you didn’t say it back right away.

you blinked, heart thudding in your chest, and whispered, ‘why?’

he smiled, small, real, almost sad.

‘because you still show up, even when everything tries to tell you not to.’

your throat burned. your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie. your eyes stung.

and when you finally said it, i love you too, his shoulders dropped like he’d been holding that breath for weeks.

he didn’t kiss you. not right away.

he just pulled you closer. held you like you were something breakable and sacred at the same time.

like he knew you hadn’t been held like that in a long time.

after that, things got easier.

he called you more. waited outside the café when your shifts ran late. sent you dumb tiktoks and notes in your locker. sometimes he showed up at your place with dinner, stuff your mom liked, stuff your brother would actually eat.

he never made it a big deal.

never made you feel small about needing help.

never made it feel like charity.

just said, you’d do the same for me.

you fell for him a little more every time he said stuff like that.

he called you star girl sometimes. said the necklace made you look like you were born under something magic.

you rolled your eyes at him, but you never took it off.

not even once.

one night, after your shift, you both sat in his car in the parking lot. your feet were killing you, your voice was hoarse, and your eyes burned from staying open too long.

he reached over, took your hand.

‘come away with me this summer,’ he said.

you blinked. ‘what?’

‘somewhere quiet. no pressure. no uniforms. just you and me and maybe the sea.’

you laughed. ‘and how would we afford that?’

‘i’ll figure it out.’

‘you say that like it’s easy.’

he looked at you, serious now. steady.

‘i say it like i want you there. and when i want something, i make it happen.’

you looked away.

no one had ever made room for you like that before. not in plans. not in futures.

you squeezed his hand.

‘okay,’ you whispered. ‘just you and me and the sea.’

he smiled, wide. like you’d given him the world.

you started dreaming again.

tiny dreams.

less tired. more time. a quiet apartment with bookshelves. a degree with your name on it. dinner that wasn’t just toast or soup. a boy with brown eyes and soft hands waiting at the end of every day.

you let yourself believe you could have that.

you let yourself feel safe.

loved.

wanted.

just long enough for it to really hurt when it was taken away.

you noticed the change before it happened.

it started in the eyes. the way he looked at you.

less soft. less sure. less warm.

just for a moment, maybe two. but you felt it. deep, right between your ribs.

you brushed it off at first.

maybe he was tired. school, training, everything piling up. you told yourself you were being paranoid. that old voice in your head, the one that used to whisper they don’t stay, was lying again.

but then the texts got shorter. the calls went unanswered. the lunch spot behind the library sat cold and empty for three days in a row.

and then… the whispering started again.

it was different this time. sharper. louder. less subtle.

someone knew.

you caught it in the hallway.

‘heard she sold the necklace.’

‘seriously? damn. i knew she was in it for the money.’

‘poor thing’s gotta pay rent somehow, i guess.’

your blood ran cold.

you didn’t say anything. didn’t ask. didn’t confront.

you waited for him to bring it up.

but he didn’t.

not until the fourth night you waited for him after your shift, in the freezing cold, with your fingers numb and your chest tight and your backpack too heavy.

his car pulled up late.

he didn’t smile when he saw you.

you slid into the seat, heart already racing. he didn’t kiss your cheek. he didn’t say hey, star girl.

he just drove. quiet. stiff. hands clenched on the wheel.

you didn’t ask until you were two turns away from your apartment.

‘did something happen?’

he didn’t answer right away.

just exhaled. sharp. through his nose.

and then—

‘i heard you pawned it.’

your heart dropped.

‘what?’

‘the necklace.’

your voice cracked. ‘what are you talking about?’

‘camila said—’

‘camila?’ you cut in. ‘you’re listening to camila?’

his jaw tightened. ‘she showed me. a friend of hers works at the shop downtown. said you came in last week.’

your mouth went dry.

you opened it. closed it. opened it again.

because it was true. you had gone. but not to sell it. not to pawn it. you wanted to ask if they could hold it. just in case. if things got worse.

you didn’t do it. you couldn’t.

you still wore it. every day. tucked under your uniform. over your heart.

‘i didn’t sell it,’ you whispered.

he didn’t look at you.

‘you really think i’m using you?’ your voice trembled.

‘i don’t know what to think right now.’

‘you think i’m a gold digger?’

he winced at the word, but didn’t deny it.

you blinked, tears building fast, throat closing.

‘i helped pay for my mom’s medication last week,’ you said, voice barely a breath. ‘we ran out. the insurance wouldn’t cover the new one. she was in pain, héctor. i didn’t tell you because i didn’t wanna make you feel like you had to fix it. because i know you’re not a bank. you’re a person. the person i—’

your voice cracked.

‘—i loved.’

his face crumpled for half a second. but he turned away. again.

‘you should’ve told me,’ he said quietly.

you laughed, a bitter, wet sound.

‘and you should’ve believed me.’

silence.

you looked out the window. hand pressed flat over your chest, where the necklace sat, cold against your skin.

‘pull over,’ you whispered.

‘what?’

‘pull over.’

he did.

you stepped out. shut the door before he could say anything else. started walking.

and he let you go.

you didn’t cry when you got home.

you didn’t cry when your mom asked if you were okay, or when your brother offered you the last piece of bread from dinner.

you cried when you got to your room. when you closed the door. when you sat on your floor, in the dark, and finally unclasped the necklace and held it in your hand.

it glowed a little in the streetlight from your window.

a gift. a promise. a lie?

you didn’t know anymore.

you stopped answering his texts.

you couldn’t look at him in the halls. didn’t go behind the library. didn’t walk past his locker.

he tried. once.

‘can we talk?’

you shook your head. didn’t trust your voice.

he nodded. stepped back.

but he looked wrecked.

and you hated that part of you still wanted to run to him. still wanted him to take it back. to say he was sorry. to say i believe you.

but he didn’t.

not yet.

so you stayed quiet.

and tired.

and alone.

the first night he didn’t come to find you, you couldn’t breathe.

he didn’t text you. didn’t leave a voicemail. didn’t even try to look for you after school. you spent the whole night trying to tell yourself it wasn’t personal. maybe he needed time. maybe he was too ashamed. maybe he just didn’t know what to say.

but the silence echoed. louder than any apology. louder than anything he could’ve said.

you tried to distract yourself. books, homework, scrolling through your phone as if it could ease the ache gnawing at your chest. but nothing worked. nothing could fill the space he left behind.

you found yourself wishing you’d never said it. wishing you could take back those words, the ones that shatteredeverything. wishing that maybe, just maybe, if you had just stayed quiet, everything would’ve been okay.

but you couldn’t go back.

and in the silence, it became real. this wasn’t a misunderstanding. this wasn’t just a fight. this was something bigger. something that felt too heavy to carry.

the pain, his pain, stuck to your ribs. suffocated you. not from the words he said, but from the words he didn’t say.

he never even tried to fix it.

the next day, he didn’t try to find you. he didn’t come to your locker, didn’t sit beside you in class. he walked past you in the hallway, his gaze drifting somewhere else, anywhere but toward you.

it stung. the cold indifference. the way he looked like you weren’t even worth a glance anymore. like you were just another girl he used to care about.

he didn't apologize. he didn’t even see you.

he just, walked away.

and you hated yourself for still feeling something.

you tried to keep your distance. tried to push him out of your thoughts. out of your heart. but no matter how many times you told yourself you were better off, you couldn’t shake the image of his eyes. the way they softened when they looked at you. the way he’d whispered “i love you” like he’d meant it.

but that was before.

now, all you had were the remnants of the promises he’d made.

the necklace. the plans. the quiet moments. the love you thought you had.

and it hurt. oh god, it hurt more than you thought anything could.

you kept walking. kept working. kept pretending that it was okay, that you were okay. but every step felt like a betrayal of the love you had given him. the love you’d believed in.

that night, after another shift, you barely made it home before your mom noticed.

‘you look terrible,’ she said. ‘how’s your day?’

you didn’t answer right away. just slid off your jacket and put it on the chair. sat down at the kitchen table.

‘work’s fine,’ you said, your voice shaking despite the effort to sound normal. ‘it’s fine.’

but she wasn’t fooled.

she sat across from you, her eyes narrowing. ‘you know you can talk to me, right?’

you nodded. but the words were stuck in your throat. the words that needed to come out wouldn’t.

because they weren’t just about a fight.

it was about everything.

you stayed quiet. stared down at the table, where the unfinished bowl of soup from earlier sat cold.

‘does he love you, honey?’ she asked, her voice soft, gentle. like she already knew.

the question hit you like a punch to the gut. does he?

you thought you knew the answer.

you thought he did.

but now? it felt like that love had been a fragile illusion.

‘i don’t know,’ you whispered, voice breaking. ‘i really thought he did, mom. i really did.’

the next day, he still didn’t talk to you.

but she did.

camila. the girl who had spread the rumors. the one who’d whispered about you being a gold digger. the one who had poisoned his mind with lies.

she smiled at you like nothing had happened. like she hadn’t been the one to rip the love you had apart with her venomous words.

‘hey,’ she said sweetly, leaning against the lockers like she owned the space. ‘still hanging around him? thought you’d know by now. boys like him don’t stay with girls like you. they never do.’

you didn’t respond. couldn’t.

your stomach twisted, but you didn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing you break.

you could feel her eyes on you as you walked away, but you didn’t turn around. you didn’t let her win.

by the time the final bell rang, the weight of the day crushed down on you. the world felt like it was closing in. your chest ached with every breath, your heart heavy, suffocating in the grief you couldn’t shake.

when you got to your locker to grab your things, you found something unexpected.

a small envelope, tucked into the corner of your books.

your hands shook as you opened it. and there, inside, was a note.

it wasn’t from him.

it wasn’t even signed.

just words, scrawled quickly. desperate.

he's sorry. he doesn’t know what to do. he needs you.

you stared at it. your vision blurred, and the sting in your chest deepened.

he needs you. but where was he? where was his apology? where was the man who promised to never leave?

he hadn’t even fought for you.

and the truth cut deeper than anything else.

he was still the same. still too afraid to face the mess he’d made. too scared to fix what was broken between you.

he had let you walk away. had let her win. let her voice drown out his love for you.

you couldn’t stay anymore.

not for him. not for this.

you folded the note carefully and shoved it into your bag. you walked out of the school, the weight of everything pressing on your chest, and didn’t look back.

that night, after another endless shift, you found him waiting for you. he was standing at the end of the street, hands shoved deep in his pockets. eyes wide, searching.

you didn’t stop.

you couldn’t.

and when you walked past him, you heard his voice crack.

‘i love you.’

you didn’t turn around. didn’t say anything. didn’t stop walking.

because love wasn’t enough anymore.

he didn’t sleep that night. couldn’t.

his phone was on his desk, buzzing with texts from friends, but he didn’t care. nothing mattered except the silence between you two. that’s all he could hear now. nothing but the deafening silence, thick with everything he hadn’t said, everything he should’ve said.

he thought about all the moments he could’ve fixed it. all the times he could’ve walked up to you and held you, apologized, and told you the truth. but no. he let his pride get in the way. let his insecurities shape his decisions. and now he was paying for it.

he sat up in his bed, staring at the wall, replaying the fight. hearing your voice break when you said, “you think I’m a gold digger?” like a knife to his chest. he couldn’t shake it.

he thought about all the things you must’ve gone through. about your mom needing medicine. about the struggles you were fighting on your own. and he had been too selfish to see it. too blind to see that you weren’t asking for anything from him except love.

the doorbell rang early in the morning, dragging him from his thoughts. he wasn’t surprised when he saw his mom standing there, her arms crossed, her face full of concern.

‘you look like shit,’ she said bluntly, walking in without waiting for an invitation. ‘what happened?’

‘i fucked up,’ he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. ‘big time.’

‘what’d you do?’ she asked, her voice softer now.

he shook his head, not sure he could explain it. not sure he could tell her that he’d messed up the best thing in his life, that he’d pushed away the only person who had ever really cared about him, really cared.

‘i hurt her,’ he said simply. ‘i hurt the one person who was real with me. and now she’s gone.’

his mom sighed and sat down beside him. ‘i don’t know what you want me to say, Hector. but you can’t change it unless you show her you care. unless you prove that you’re willing to fight for her. words are cheap, son. you’ve got to show her you mean it.’

he swallowed thickly. ‘but what if she doesn’t want to fight for me anymore? what if she’s just... done with me?’

‘then you’ll live with that,’ she said, looking him dead in the eye. ‘but you’ve got to at least try. she’s not a game you can just walk away from. she’s a person. and you’ve got to show her that you see her as that. if you love her, you’ll fight for her, no matter what.’

he nodded, but the weight of the reality set in. could he fix this? or had he already ruined everything beyond repair?

the next day at school was just as empty as the night before. he walked through the halls, trying to act like everything was fine. but every glance, every whisper, reminded him of the mess he’d made. his friends were quieter around him, his old group of popular kids acting like nothing had happened. but he knew better. they weren’t the ones he was fighting for.

he wasn’t even sure they cared about him anymore.

and then he saw you.

you weren’t looking at him. you never looked at him anymore.

you were with your friends, sitting by the lockers, talking quietly, like you didn’t even notice him across the hallway. and he couldn’t help but watch. watch how you smiled at them. how easy it seemed for you to laugh with them, like the last few weeks hadn’t existed. like you hadn’t been in love with him.

but he knew. He knew the truth, and it ate him alive.

his phone buzzed in his pocket. a text from his best friend: ‘yo, you good?’

he didn’t answer.

he couldn’t.

he knew if he answered, it’d be a lie. because he wasn’t good. he wasn’t even close to good.

he was broken. and it was all his fault.

you had to leave early that day. your mom had called, telling you she couldn’t pick up her prescription, and the pharmacy wouldn’t hold it any longer.

you didn’t want to be there. didn’t want to be anywhere near that school, near him. near the empty spaces where his words used to live.

the walk home was long. longer than it usually felt. with each step, you felt the weight of everything. everything that had happened, everything that was falling apart, and everything you had tried so hard to hold together.

and as you walked, you realized something: you missed him. you missed him so fucking much.

you hated yourself for it. because he hadn’t fought for you. he hadn’t cared enough to look for you. to hold you and make it right.

and yet, you were still here, still aching for him, still wondering if things could go back to the way they were before everything fell apart.

the whole situation made you sick. it made you feel small and foolish.

you needed to take a breath. you needed to move on. but every time you told yourself that, you could still feel him. feel his presence, his touch, his words, lingering like a ghost you couldn’t shake.

he didn’t wait long after you left.

he caught up with you on your way home. when you saw him in the distance, you stopped in your tracks, trying to pretend you didn’t feel the same pang in your chest as he got closer.

he was panting, out of breath, his eyes wild like he’d been searching for you for hours.

‘please... talk to me,’ he begged. ‘i can’t just let you walk away from me. not like this.’

you swallowed hard, eyes burning. ‘you already did. you walked away first.’

his hand reached for yours, but you pulled back, too hurt to let him in.

‘i didn’t mean it,’ he said, voice raw, desperate. ‘please. i’m so fucking sorry. you have no idea how much i regret listening to them. to camila... to everyone. i’ve been an idiot. i was scared, okay? i didn’t think someone like you would ever love someone like me. i thought—’

‘you thought what?’ you interrupted, voice trembling. ‘that i was just after your money? that i was just another girl who wanted a piece of your life?’

he winced at the accusation, guilt washing over his face.

‘i’m sorry. i didn’t think. i should’ve trusted you. but i was just so scared that i wasn’t good enough for you. i was scared of losing everything, and i let that fear take over. i let it make me do things i’m not proud of.’

you stood there, feeling like you were holding onto something that was slipping through your fingers.

‘you shouldn’t have been scared,’ you whispered. ‘you should’ve trusted me.’

he nodded, tears gathering in his eyes. ‘i know. i was stupid. but please... please don’t walk away from me. i love you. and i can’t lose you.’

for the first time in days, you met his eyes, and for the first time in days, you felt the faintest trace of something, maybe hope. maybe, just maybe, he still meant it.

but for now, it wasn’t enough.

he didn’t text you after that night.

you didn’t text him either.

and the world stayed still for a while.

it wasn’t silence the way it had been before, cold and final. this was different. quieter, softer. like the space between two people holding their breath, unsure if they’re falling apart or falling back together.

you were tired. tired in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. tired of hoping, of second-guessing, of giving and not knowing what you’d get back.

you still showed up to school. you still worked both jobs. still helped your mom with everything she needed. still carried the weight of a life no one at school ever saw.

and he noticed.

he saw the way your uniform wrinkled more now, like you didn’t have time to care. he saw the dark circles under your eyes. saw the way you zoned out in class, like your body was there but your mind wasn’t. he saw all of it. and it killed him.

because he knew that pain. knew he had a part in it.

and even worse, he knew you wouldn’t let him help anymore.

it was a week after he’d found you on that street when you saw each other again. not just passing glances or accidental run ins. this time, it was real.

you were sitting in the back of the library, curled into a hoodie three sizes too big, your head in your arms, notebook half-filled with messy equations and tired handwriting.

you didn’t hear him approach.

‘you’re gonna burn out,’ he said quietly.

you looked up, blinking slowly. ‘already have.’

he sat down across from you like it was the most natural thing in the world. no drama. no begging. just silence and the low hum of pages turning around you.

‘i’m not here to fix anything,’ he said after a beat. ‘i know i don’t have the right. but i just wanted to sit with you. if you’ll let me.’

you didn’t answer right away.

you should’ve said no. told him to leave. told him that he lost his chance.

but the truth was, you missed him. and you were tired of pretending that you didn’t.

so you shrugged.

‘it’s a free country.’

and he smiled. just barely. just enough to let hope breathe again.

you didn’t talk much that afternoon. he watched you scribble notes. you watched him flip through a textbook he wasn’t really reading. every so often, your knees would bump under the table, and neither of you pulled away.

it was stupid how natural it still felt. how easy it was to fall back into rhythm, even with all the cracks between you.

but neither of you brought up the fight.

not yet.

it was too soon. the wound was still fresh. and you both knew that healing would take more than one soft moment in the library.

still... it was a start.

later that week, he found you in the cafeteria, sitting alone, a half eaten sandwich beside your notebook. your head was resting against your hand, eyes barely open.

he didn’t say anything. just slid into the seat beside you and offered his water bottle.

you took it without a word, too tired to argue, too drained to push him away again.

‘you’re not sleeping,’ he said gently.

you gave him a look. ‘gee, wonder why.’

he looked down, ashamed. ‘i deserve that.’

‘you deserve worse,’ you muttered, but your voice lacked the venom it once had.

he nodded. ‘i know.’

a pause.

and then, softly, too soft:

‘i don’t expect you to forgive me. not yet. maybe not ever. but i just want to show up. for you. however you’ll let me.’

you stared at him for a long moment. longer than you meant to.

‘you can sit,’ you said finally, nodding at the chair across from you. ‘but that’s all. don’t expect anything more.’

he nodded. and he stayed.

and just like that, he became part of your orbit again.

not your boyfriend. not your enemy. just… there.

he started walking you to your classes, just a few steps behind, never pushing. he offered you his jacket when it rained. he kept his distance when you needed space. and sometimes, he didn’t say anything at all.

but he was there.

and that meant something.

not everything. not yet. but something.

because you were still healing.

and healing doesn’t happen in grand gestures or perfect apologies.

sometimes, it’s just someone showing up. again and again. until the silence doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.

he knew he had no right to ask for more.

he was lucky you even let him sit beside you. lucky you didn’t spit his name like poison anymore. lucky you didn’t flinch when his hand brushed yours by accident.

he was still tiptoeing around your pain. still watching you fold into yourself every time the world got too loud. still noticing the little things, how you wore the same three hoodies on rotation, how you never touched the food in the cafeteria anymore, how your phone always had a message draft open but never sent.

you were hanging on by threads. and he hated that he used to be one of them, and then chose to cut himself loose.

so he didn’t push. he didn’t beg. he stayed in the quiet with you.

and he noticed things again. like how you never showed up to first period anymore. how you’d started asking to borrow pens because you kept forgetting your own. how your eyes glazed over in the middle of conversations, like your brain just... shut off sometimes.

he asked around, lowkey. your teachers were frustrated. your friends were worried. the front office said you’d been absent a lot.

he didn’t ask why. he already knew.

he figured it out when he passed by the corner store one night, walking home after practice, and saw you inside, half asleep behind the counter, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, eyes barely open. it was past ten.

his heart sank.

he stood there outside the glass door for a while, just watching you ring up a woman’s groceries, nodding politely, smiling weakly. it wasn’t your real smile. it was your i don’t have the energy to exist smile. and he felt like shit for knowing it.

when he finally came in, the bell above the door jingled, and you didn’t even look up.

‘i’m clocking out soon,’ you mumbled, automatically, voice tired and soft.

‘not here to shop,’ he said gently.

your head jerked up like you’d been shocked. and your eyes met his. and you just blinked, like your brain was short-circuiting.

‘why are you here,’ you asked, voice flat.

‘i was walking home,’ he said. ‘and saw you.’

you didn’t answer. just turned back to the register, scanned a pack of gum for a teenager with headphones in.

‘do you always work this late?’ he asked quietly.

you didn’t look at him. didn’t need to.

‘someone has to pay the bills.’

he nodded slowly, like the guilt in his stomach hadn’t just quadrupled.

‘i didn’t know.’

‘you didn’t ask,’ you said simply.

and that hurt worse than if you’d yelled.

when your shift ended, you didn’t expect him to still be there. but he was, leaning against the wall near the exit, arms crossed, eyes soft.

‘you really don’t have to do this,’ you muttered, walking past him.

‘i know,’ he said, falling into step beside you. ‘but i want to.’

you sighed, too tired to argue. and so the two of you walked in silence. your backpack looked heavier than usual. maybe it was. maybe you were just too drained to hide it anymore.

he offered to carry it halfway through.

you said no.

but when your steps started to slow and you winced mid stride, he reached over and took it anyway.

you didn’t stop him.

the walk to your building was quiet, but not uncomfortable. just slow. heavy. like everything between you was still being rebuilt, brick by broken brick.

he paused at your doorstep, holding the bag out to you.

‘i meant it, you know,’ he said.

you looked up.

‘meant what.’

‘when i said i’d show up. no matter what.’

your fingers brushed his when you took the bag back. you didn’t pull away this time.

‘okay,’ you whispered.

just that.

but for him, it was enough to keep going.

because maybe this wasn’t the end. maybe you were still letting him in. inch by inch. breath by breath.

and if there was still space for him, no matter how small, he was gonna stay.

every time.

until you believed he meant it. until you believed you were worth it.

and maybe, just maybe, you’d let him love you again. this time without fear. without conditions. just love.

quiet, steady, and real.

you didn’t mean to fall asleep at school again.

you tried. really. but your eyes had started burning halfway through third period, and your head had gotten heavy, and the warmth of the classroom mixed with the low buzz of the teacher’s voice just… pulled you under. you didn’t even feel it happen.

you woke up to the principal’s voice.

he was standing over you, your name tight in his mouth, like he’d said it more than once. your classmates were staring. the room was too quiet. your face was warm with embarrassment, but your limbs were heavier than shame.

you mumbled an apology and tried to blink yourself back to life, but your head still felt like it was filled with fog. your teacher looked guilty. the principal looked frustrated. and you just felt small.

he asked you to come with him.

you didn’t say anything. you just stood.

you sat across from him in his office, hands in your lap, hoodie sleeves tugged down past your knuckles. you’d been here before. when your absences started stacking. when your grades slipped. when someone reported that you were always nodding off, always running late, always “not quite here.”

he didn’t yell. he wasn’t cruel. he just sighed.

‘this isn’t sustainable,’ he said gently. ‘you’re clearly overwhelmed. your teachers are worried. you’ve changed, and not in the way we like seeing.’

you nodded slowly, unable to argue. because it was true.

‘is everything okay at home?’ he asked.

you hesitated, then nodded again. even though the truth was, not really. but what could he do? what could anyone do?

‘i’m just tired,’ you whispered. ‘that’s all.’

his frown deepened.

you left with a warning and a pass to go lie down in the nurse’s office. you didn’t go. you just sat on the steps outside the building, elbows on your knees, forehead resting on your arms.

you didn’t cry.

not because it didn’t hurt.

but because you didn’t even have the energy to.

hector found you like that.

he was supposed to be at practice. he left early. said he had a stomach ache. he didn’t. he just had a feeling. a gut-wrenching, aching sort of feeling that he needed to find you.

he spotted you from across the quad, folded up into yourself, hair falling forward, body still.

his chest cracked open.

he crossed the space between you like it was instinct. like his legs moved before his brain could catch up.

he sat beside you without asking.

you didn’t look up.

‘i heard,’ he said softly. ‘what happened.’

your voice was barely there. ‘did the whole school?’

‘doesn’t matter.’

you exhaled shakily, but didn’t speak.

‘you wanna talk about it?’

you shook your head.

so he didn’t push.

you sat like that for a while, him beside you, you folded in two, the sky slowly shifting above.

then, out of nowhere, you whispered, ‘i’m trying.’

he turned to you.

‘i know.’

‘i’m trying so hard, hector. and i just… i’m so tired of trying. and still getting nowhere.’

his throat tightened. ‘i see you. i see all of it.’

‘no you don’t,’ you said, finally looking at him, eyes rimmed red. ‘no one does. they all think i’m lazy, or ungrateful, or not trying hard enough. but i’m doing everything. i’m keeping my mom alive, and i’m paying rent, and i’m working every shift they give me, and i’m still failing everything and—’

your voice cracked.

‘—and i don’t know what else to do.’

he didn’t hesitate. he pulled you into him, arms wrapping around you like he’d wanted to since the first moment he messed up.

and you didn’t fight it.

you just sank into him, into the warmth of him, into the steady heartbeat under his hoodie. and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself fall.

‘i’m so sorry,’ he whispered into your hair. ‘for every second you had to feel alone.’

you didn’t say anything.

but your fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeve like you didn’t want to let go.

he didn’t leave your side after that.

not for a second.

he helped you with your homework that night. sat beside you on the floor of your living room while your mom rested in the next room. he watched you write your essays, helped quiz you for math, brought you coffee even though you told him not to.

he didn’t care.

he was there.

he texted you in the morning to make sure you woke up. met you outside your first class with breakfast in a paper bag. walked you to work after school. waited outside until your shift ended.

you kept telling him you didn’t need saving.

he kept telling you he wasn’t trying to save you. he just wanted to love you right this time.

and little by little, piece by piece, you started to believe him.

because love doesn’t always come in grand gestures or perfect words.

sometimes it shows up late, with shaking hands and tired hearts.

sometimes it’s soft and quiet and steady.

sometimes, it’s him, carrying your backpack without asking, walking you home in the rain, whispering that he’s proud of you when you finish your homework even though your eyes won’t stay open.

sometimes, love is just showing up.

and this time, he was here to stay.

[annie-creates]

The greatest mistake | Part 2

Pairing: Dain Aetos x Riorson reader

Genre: angst and fluff

Words: 1962

Note: Second part is here! Not that much of Xaden in this one but some important details. I hope you'll still like it. Please be aware not every detail might be completely true to the canon source material. Let me know what you think and if you want to be reminded for the next one!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

Nobody talked to you. The marked ones in your squad turned their back to you any time you wanted to talk to them, Dain avoided you like the plague and any time you crossed paths with Xaden or anybody else from your shared friends they stared murder at you. Surrounded by hundreds of people you felt weirdly alone. It wasn’t the first time in your life, but it was certainly the most uncomfortable so far. In every class you shared with them and every round of spar challenges you battled their angry glances and faces hardened with hatred. You’d think after two weeks they’d get over it, but clearly not.

Luckily you had the rest of your squad to sit with in the dining hall and classes. The other kids weren’t aware of the whole showdown between you and all the other marked ones, so they still treated you friendly. Not too long ago you’d have preferred the company of Tyrrish folks, but now you were opening up to the other cadets from your squad and you were grateful to have them still treat you with kindness and dignity.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Violet asks as she and Rhiannon join your table at the end of lunch hour. “Is everything alright?”

“Well all my friends hate me, my brother disowned me and my boyfriend broke my heart. But yeah, everything’s great.” You retort with the utmost uninterest you can master.

“I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you to go to the ball…” Violet’s face immediately turns to pity.

“It’s fine, Violet. I asked your opinion, I acted on it, it has consequences. That’s just what happens sometimes.” You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t blame you.”

“Why are you dressed in all this when it’s almost summer, aren’t you hot?” Rhiannon asks noticing your long sleeve hoodie.

“Yeah, well, sometimes I just… don’t want to show everything.” You shrug taken aback a little.

“Can’t you put makeup on it?” She asks a little dumbly after she realizes you’re talking about your rebellion mark.

“No, makeup doesn’t work. Nothing really does. Trust me, I tried for five years.” You assure her before leaving with your half-eaten plate.

It was nice of Violet to try and talk to you when she saw your own brother wouldn’t, but some of her friends could be quite overbearing at times. But they worked nicely with the first years from your squad, so the unexpected group actually somehow worked out. Maybe it started with Violet feeling guilty, but now you were all sort of friends, and you were grateful to still have a few people who at least saw you and didn’t just look straight through you any time you bumped into each other as if you didn’t even exist. Which is more than you could say for Xaden or Dain.

Two days later you’re sitting in the riders library studying for the next dragon species class with Violet, Riannon, Sawyer and Ridoc and the unmarked half of your squad. You were actually successful in studying for the past two hours, until Ridoc and Sawey started arguing about the swordtail and daggertail differences and from there it was all just a friendly banter and laughter. Your books long forgotten on the library carpet, you share a little snippets of each other’s lives here and there, your friend Lis sharing how she ate most of the Christmas dinner before the table was even ready.

“That’s not so bad. I ate Xaden’s birthday cake once.” You admit with a fond smile of the memory. “Well actually, I ate just a small piece, but then Garrick and Bodhi came into the kitchen, and since I already took a bite, they devoured more than half the cake. And then when our mom found us, they blamed it all on me.”

“Damn, I can’t believe they’d throw you under the bus like that.” Ridoc shakes his head. “Good thing we’re better friends than they were, right?”

“No, you’re not really my friends. You’re Violet’s friends. Just like they are Xaden’s friends. They wouldn’t jump to the fire for me or vouch for me. I don’t blame them, Xaden was always quite popular and I’m just someone you know.” You shrug.

It’s back to trying to remember dragon dens after a few more minutes of banter. You really needed to get a good grade on the upcoming test and you wouldn’t get it for joking around. But naturally with this group, you didn’t make it longer than thirty minutes before there were more smartass comments than actual studying.

“Can I ask you something?” Rhiannon asks you after a while of quiet reading.

“Hm?” You look up at her from your book.

“What did you mean when you said… you were trying makeup for five years..?” She shivers in discomfort of possibly asking something too personal.

“You know, the relics differ by how important your parents were in the revolution. Most people just have one on their forearm, some over their arm if their parents were lieutenants or colonels, but my father was the leader… that’s why mine and Xaden’s are the biggest. Nothing really covers it.” You explain.

You notice Violet’s gaze shifting to you and the banter of the group slowly dies down as all of them start listening to you. But you don’t see any hate or suspicion, only interest. Not many people actually knew a lot about the apostasy, so this was their chance to understand it from someone directly linked to it, even if you were only a child, hardly a teenager when it happened.

“For a long time after the apostasy, everywhere I went people knew who I was, and they hated me. So I tried anything to hide it, even for a little while. Makeup, clothes, I even tried to cut it off…” You admit, saying the last sentence quietly in shame. “Being skinned alive seemed better than dealing with all the hate.”

You hear a few terrified breaths from the group but try to look reassuring, that wasn’t who you were anymore. You had years to deal with the hatred and rudeness, and even though some of your coping mechanisms weren’t exactly healthy, you still made it out, right? You’re still here after years and years of peer abuse.

“Xaden taught me that I didn’t have to hate who I was. That the man other people knew was somebody different from the father who loved me. That it’s okay to be still proud of who I am, even if other people try to shame me for it.” You smile, not wanting to worry anyone.

“Does he know about this?” Violet asks after a minute.

“Not all of it.” You admit, your tone clearly suggesting you want it to stay that way, Xaden didn’t have to know everything.

After that night the group clings tad more closely to you, everyone wanting to show their support and like in different ways. You didn’t comment on it, but at times you were endlessly grateful. Maybe the people Violet brought into your life would actually enrich your experience. You were definitely happy to learn some little personal things about them. That was what inevitably comes with friendships, you like and get used to each other.

Not only did they meet up with your part of squad regularly to study, but they permanently joined you in the dining hall when your schedules aligned and they would pair up with the few of you for voluntary sparring sessions, which allowed you to experience different combat techniques and styles without the deadly danger of challenges. In another study session you started talking about what you wanted to do before the riders quadrant, the battle brief studying abandoned.

“I wanted to be a scribe.” Violet says and everyone playfully snarls.

“Yes we know Violet.” Rhiannon laughs at her.

“I actually wanted to be a theatre dancer.” Lis next to you admits.

“I bet it would have suited you.” You smile at her.

“What did you want to be Y/n?” Sawyer asks.

“Well, I actually never thought about it. I was expected to be betrothed and become a wife, marry a lord or a duke, maybe even a prince if I was lucky.” You shrug, setting your own book on the table.

“What?” He retorts without thinking.

“Yeah, that’s how it goes with aristocracy. I was taught a lot of wifey duties, sewing, cooking, childcare, stuff like that.” You laugh at his slightly frightened expression.

“Uh oh, be aware, Y/n the mom is here.” Ridoc snickers, surely imagining you doing those ordinary mundane things.

“But after the rebellion we were all sent here, so, there wasn’t any space to ask or think about anything else.” You finish.

“So you can cook?” Sawyer resumes.

“Not really, I haven’t tried since I was fourteen. But I can sing pretty well.” You confess.

“Omg sing something!” Ridoc challenges you.

“Absolutely not!” You laugh.

The days were practically flying by, you could hardly count the weeks as you were taking test after test in the classrooms and challenge after challenge on the mats. That not even talking about the flight lessons and obstacle courses you had to take with your dragon. As you are celebrating the win in squad games, all your squad and Violet’s squad joining your table and clicking goblets, it’s the first time you’re showing your rebellion relic freely again after months with the strap top you’re wearing. You’re laughing candidly again and the rest of the world doesn’t bother you for a while.

Until you step out of the dining hall into the courtyard dimly light by the moon and someone sneaks up scaring you. You automatically grab for the dagger at your hip as you whisk around, coming closer than you expected to a honey-eyed face, your dagger in a sure grip pointing right in the middle of his broad chest.

“You did well in the games.” Dain praises you.

“I’m aware.” You answer flatly after a minute of staring at him.

He takes a few steps towards you, backing you against the wall. It was pretty courageous considering you didn’t drop your weapon yet, and you had half a mind to actually stuck it in his heart. But you weren’t that kind of person so you put it back in your holster, finally breaking the hold his eyes have on yours.

“Look, I treated you too harshly. I’m sorry.” He admits, but after all this time it isn’t enough for you.

“What, daddy didn’t take you back even after squad games so I’m your next stop? Don’t bother.” You spit at him.

“What? No, I…” Dain stutters.

“Just because I’m marked I’m not good enough for you? I deserve respect.” You ground him. “I’m not gonna be your afterthought Dain. Or a placeholder until someone or something better comes around.”

“You’re not!” He argues back.

“Then what am I Dain!? Cause it certainly isn’t your girlfriend anymore. That much you made crystal clear.” You sidestep him, going to your room.

He was too late to come crawling back with such a stupid weak excuse. You didn’t even want to hear his excuses. He broke up with you, why would you be obligated to give him the time of your day now after weeks? He let you spend months thinking he hated you, all after he swept you off your feet almost a year ago. And now you’re supposed to take him back, to listen to what he has to say, just like that? You weren’t ready to listen to him. You didn’t want to allow him back in. So why does your heart keep yearning and breaking for him all at the same time?

Tags: @desprrssooo-espresssooooo @bellblake @lagrandeourse

[hail-dondus]

My Gladiator Journal by Spencer Treat Clark (Part 2)

((Part 1))

----

May 2, 1999 Sunday

I really am in no mood to write some big piece of literature. Oliver Reed just died and I found out not even five minutes ago. I saw him yesterday. He was a really nice guy. I just did a scene right after him on Friday. He was the actor who played Bill Sykes in the movie Oliver, and he's a really famous actor. I think he might have even been knighted in England but I'm not sure.

I worked a little with Nick and Andreas on my swordmanship and on a new routine for my sword-fighting scene with Joaquin.

I think Russell wanted to liven things up for me so he decided to be my tutor for the day. He started off with math. He told Marjorie he felt the best way to really appreciate numbers is by playing blackjack! Next came tutoring in LA2. Russell began by teaching me a poem and a limerick.

Poem: The boy stood on the burning deck His pockets full of crackers. One fell down between his legs And blew of both his knackers.

Limerick: There was a young man from Australia He painted his arse like a dahlia The color was fine Likewise the design The aroma, alas, was a failure.

Russell had me recite them to Ridley who chuckled and gave me a big pat on the back. Later on that day, Russell and I were waiting for a scene to get set up and we decided to change places. I put on his helmet and strutted about and he hunched down in front of Joaquin (I stand in front of Joaquin in the scene). It was pretty goofy and the audience, who was bored was quite amused.

We got back to filming and every one was about ready for a nap (lunch was incredibly good) but we were given no mercy. At least most of the filming was of the gladiators and not of the imperial dudes.

Djimon was keeping a keen eye on me when I was around the cookies that he had claimed. I snatched one and he gave me the most intimidating look I've ever seen. He would not stop that convincing stare that I'd made a mistake for about a minute until he ran after me and I scurried off.

----

May 6, 1999 Thursday

A letter from Russell was slid under my door inviting us to a "Crowe XI v. Melita Cricket Club" match on Sunday. Russell's family is coming to Malta and he has two cousins (or maybe it's one cousin and his brother) that were Captains of the New Zealand Cricket Teams. It goes from 11:00 AM 'til 8:00 PM. There is the match, a BBQ and a DJ with a string quartet. It sounds like fun. Russell's Dad has his senior year at our hometown's high school. Small world!

Oh, one more thing. Russell plays hockey! (He says he's really bad but he just did a hockey movie called Mystery Alaska).

Anyway, while Marjorie and Mom talked, I worked on my limericks for Russell.

--

May 8, 1999 Saturday

I went to base camp at 7:00 AM and was ready to go at 8:00 AM, or so. I was called to the set a little later and started rehearsing the scene. My character's mom, Lucilla comes back from Germania with the Emperor Commodus and I have to greet them in front of the Palace with the Senators. The scene should look quite spectacular on the big screen. The palace entrance was dressed with flowers and smoke from the incense and had a Praetorian Guard Unit surrounding the Senators and Royalty. On numerous shots they had to put up a blue screen where the crowd will be superimposed.

It was a very bright day and I had difficulty keeping my eyes open during the scene. Sandra had to help me a bit on saying the word gods" in an English accent. In between takes I sat in the shade, reading a book and enjoyed the coolness as well as I could, because during the scene I had to stand on the palace steps, in the blazing sun with six layers of clothing on. After lunch I was released and could go home. At the hotel I went swimming and drank ice tea by the pool.

--

May 9, 1999 Sunday

The best art of today was going to Russell's cricket game at 3:30 PM after finishing homework. It was bright and sunny - a perfect day. Russell's brother, Terry, his uncle and dad, his mate, (this means good friend in Australian, not something weird) Mark, and two cousins came from New Zealand and Australia. The "Crowe" team all wore matching monogrammed sweater vests and hands and had white long pants.

Cricket's a pretty formal game. Long and interesting if you're into it like golf. I guess I must be into it because I sure enjoyed learning the game. It's pretty hard to explain without a pen and paper except for saying it's like baseball with one base and a different system of striking out. You could be up at bat seventy times before striking out. And often times the batter is up at bat that long, sometimes even longer. The Crowe team played and lost to the local Maltese team.

There was a big barbecue and a string quartet. They had burgers, chicken, hotdogs, steak, and coleslaw. The whole nine yards. After the match, a DJ came and played rock music.

When Russell first saw me he came up and said he was sorry to miss Arlington Road but he had a rehearsal. I sat with him for a while and at a perfect moment (when all his "mates" were around) I told him my two limericks:

There once was a cricketeer Crowe From New Zealand and lands down below In his fridge one would find Leg of lamb oh so fine With love bites from thigh down to toe In Australia and New Zealand, too Where girls are incredibly few Russell Crowe has no doubt That he'll never strike out With a sheep or a stray kangaroo

It was pretty hilarious- not necessarily the limericks but Russell's reaction. He's really funny.

----

May 11, 1999 Tuesday

I slept in late because it was pretty late when I went to bed last night. I went to the set after breakfast and went through the normal preparations that I have to do before going on. Like wardrobe, hair and make-up. Then I threw a lacrosse ball against the wall. Not too much time later I was called to the palace to film the first scene of the day. The palace usually has no roof and no wall on one side. So it is open to the outside. Today they covered that space with black sheets that blocked out all the light.

The scene we filmed was great, because I was asleep the whole time. The Romans had very bouncy comfortable beds. The room I was in had silk cloth hanging from the ceiling and candles in every corner. One of the guys behind the camera had a laser pointer that you could point at an object and it would tell you the distance between you and the object.

I walked along the natural salt flats for a while then headed back to base camp where I changed wardrobe and prepared for the next scene. A few minutes later I was called to the palace for the second time. The set had been re-dressed and the light was a little darker. This scene was of a slave and me sword fighting until Commodus (my evil uncle Joaquin) comes over, takes the sword from the slave and carries on a conversation with me while we sword fight. At the end of the scene Joaquin has to kneel down on one knee with him leaning on his sword. When he put his weight on the sword it slid out and he went with it. He kept a straight face and continued on with the scene like nothing had happened. Such a pro. Joaquin is so intense. I love working with him.

Around 9:30 PM, Nicky Gregory, the nurse showed me her private collection of candy. She gave me the Mars bar I selected which was just what I needed. The scene was hard because the slave was French and barely spoke English. He had learned the sword routine earlier that morning.

It was a really fun scene though with a lot to think about like landing my mark, remembering the sword routine, and using a correct English accent. We wrapped around 11:30 PM. I'm ready for bed.

----

May 14, 1999 Friday

I had a late call time to the set so I figured they would film pretty late. At base camp the second unit was having lunch, so I ate late since I had missed breakfast. The second unit shoots special effects, stunts and establishing shots. We were going to work in the palace with Ridley, the director, because we had scenes with dialogue. The unit had the Colosseum where they had extras in the stands and they were doing more detailed special effects: the demise of one of the female gladiators.

Today I got into wardrobe and relaxed in the burning sun. One of the SFX guys estimated a good two days would have to be spent on making the remote control car that Joaquin gave me. I need a few tools like pliers so I think I'll wait 'til I get home and Dad can give me a hand.

Today's scene in the palace is between Lucilla, Commodus and me. It's a really good scene where Joaquin and Connie both got to show what they could do acting wise. They are very good! Because it was filmed outside, the 108° outside temperature didn't effect the room as much, but it was still pretty warm. We set up some chairs in front of some fans and talked with anyone who wasn't setting up the shot. Connie and I had a lot of laughs. She's from New York but also lives in Italy.

----

May 22, 1999 Saturday

I went down to breakfast and learned from Ralf he was leaving on Monday. I'll miss him a lot. I gobbled down an omelet and then did school work (surprise, surprise).

Around 6:00 Joaquin invited me to his room to hang. I listened to music and watch the "Tele" in his living room and then we went downstairs to find something better to do. He invited me to dinner with Tomas and Djimon and I accepted. We took a taxi to a restaurant called the Barracuda. It was very nice and the food was super. We talked of LA, Puerto Rico, and Paris and whatever else came to mind. We scarfed down our food letting the comments on the food be expressed by not talking at all but by eating. I was not all that hungry but the food was delicious. The three guys are really fun to be around. Funny. Nice. We all jammed in the taxi on the way back and were silent as we had all had a long day.

----

May 23, 1999 Sunday

I did school until 2:00 PM mainly on the same stuff as yesterday (book reports and an Egyptian report). Then Joaquin, Tommy, Sammy, Bruno, Tomas, and I piled in a mini van while Sandra, Mom, and Marjorie got in to a car and we set off to Benjamin's (the General Manager of the hotel) house for a barbecue.

When I arrived I met about ten girls aged 10 to 12. About half, sorry to say, I can't remember their names. Brawny was the General Manager's daughter. I sank my teeth into a burger and a dish of calamari and pasta as Sonny from the hotel bartended bar.

After getting hot I jumped in the pool in my khaki shorts and then got thrown in a few times by Joaquin, Tommy, and Djimon. The house had a great view of two mountain plateaus which I started to climb with a long line of girls trailing behind. (I wasn't complaining). We went up to a cave that had one huge cavern and small grottos inside it. The cave in the cliff side had two entrances. We found two jawbones of an animal neither the grown ups nor I could identify. Too big for a fox, cat, or rabbit and too small for a dog. It was pretty neat. I have three teeth with me. As I left the girls asked for my autograph. The funny thing was, they wanted me to sign it on their sneakers (or "trainers" as the British say).

Back at the hotel, Ralf introduced me to his good friend Arnold Schwarzenegger who had come to visit Ralf for the weekend. He's a nice guy. Not as tall as Ralf but has the same big muscles. All the girls at the reception desk were excited that he was staying at the hotel.

Ralf has finished his scenes and leaves tomorrow. I'm going to miss him. We had a lot of laughs and he's a really great person. Kind and considerate as can be. He's really smart too, and like most of the cast can speak several languages.

--

May 26, 1999 Wednesday

I went to set and got my spiffy toga and britches and happily took to the couch for a rest. Marjorie abruptly ruined it and we started doing Spanish.

The set was incredibly dressed. I'm so anxious to tell everything but in case this is read by anyone before the film comes out, I'll let the details be a pretty neat surprise. I won't ruin the film by telling anything except that Connie and Joaquin looked incredible in their costumes.

Joaquin and Russell had to do this tremendously hard, long sword fight that was fast paced and required much mental and physical co-operation. Both Russell and Joaquin are athletic and they practiced a lot. It looked great. Connie and I were baffled from our seats in the Colosseum. There were thousands of extras that will be hoarse tomorrow from all the cheering they did. There was a lot of energy on the set today.

Ridley is designing his house in California. He sends plans back by fax. Ridley had gone to art school for a long time - no wonder he is such a good director. We talked about how I am always drawing house plans and he said he would give me the architectural designs for the Colosseum! I'm dying to see the plans and see how they figured the whole Colosseum out. It's such an amazing place that it's easy to forget you are on a set.

After lunch they did close-ups of Connie and me reacting to the final fight. How we react kind of needs to be seen on screen because it would take me ten pages to describe.

Russell gave me his baseball cap from the cricket match. It has Crowe XI (the number of people in a cricket match) and Malta 1999 on it. He also gave me tons of great candy (Pollywaffles - a marshmallow covered in an ice cream cone waffle, then covered with chocolate, and some real cherry bars) that he gets from Australia. He also gave me a photo of him with me. And then, Sandra gave me the U2 double album - one of my favorites. It felt like my birthday.

--

May 28, 1999 Friday

I had a breakfast of OJ and that was it. I went to the set and did wardrobe, hair, etc. I went to the set when ready instead of what I usually do which is wait at base-camp hours on end. I was in the royal box the first half of the day with Connie watching a fight. I wish I could write what the fight was, but that would spoil it. It was really neat though, definitely a highlight of the movie. I spent most of the time with my head up against the side of my chair in the royal box. I dozed between scenes.

Connie showed me a few of her CD's, which I listened to on a portable CD player. She has a good sense for music.

Because she wears her hair all pulled up in tight curls for the film and her role is pretty formal, I guess I at first expected Connie to be pretty uptight and I never expected her to love rap and be so funny. Now I know that she is as laid back as Joaquin. She is definitely cool.

I went to lunch and ate a nice filling meal of BBQ chicken kabobs and French-fries. I listened to music in my trailer for the majority of the lunch break and then went down with Mom to the natural salt flats near the sea and the set. It was really beautiful.

I was called back to set and started filming my favorite scene of the ovie. I won't say a word about it though. I was down in the arena area of he Colosseum. I'm so anxious to tell everything but I'm not going to spoil the surprises in the film. At one point though, the ex-president of Malta who had resigned three weeks ago, came to visit the set. Branko, the producer, walked him our to the center of the Colosseum and the crowd went nuts.

Obviously, he was pretty popular. Then he picked up a sword and mocked fought with Russell. The crowd went even crazier. It was pretty funny.

Back at the hotel, I was banned to the desk to do math. I finished around nine forty-five.

I was at the reception desk when this total stranger comes up to me and gives me a hug and started talking to me. She was gorgeous so, as you would imagine, I made no attempt to stop her. Finally I figured out from her voice that she was Connie. I hadn't recognized her in her bell-bottoms and with straight hair. She looks great with straight hair. Now I could completely see her listening to rap.

Mom started to pack. We had to get two extra bags to lug back all the stuff we're bringing home.

May 29, 1999 Saturday

I went to the set at eight o'clock. I started filming right when I was ready in wardrobe. I went to the set believing that I was going to do a really difficult scene but instead Connie and I were up in "the royal prison" (the royal box) as a reference for Russell. We weren't even on camera. We talked about anything that we could. In the middle of the scene everything was dead quiet and then all of a sudden a boat out in the harbor behind the set blew a foghorn. The extras laughed yet Russell wasn't pleased. He tried to continue with his scene but the extras didn't realize that the noise could be edited out and then Russell had to do the whole scene over again. He was pretty good-natured about it even though it was an emotional scene and required a lot of concentration. The audience understood when they had to start from the beginning and they were better behaved the next take.

Gordon Campbell Smith (who plays a gladiator) is an incredible artist. He showed me his work. He makes the most complex comics I've ever seen. He has created a whole race and culture in an illustrated book about the clans from Scotland. He also designed a lot of the gladiator tee shirts. Gordon has a great Scottish accent. He didn't do Braveheart because he was competing for Scotland in the shot put for the World Games. He's got very long hair. Ridley said, "Who would have known that such a barbarian has such talent!"

We went back for lunch. I enjoyed the meal and then went back to the set. A few of the gladiators were in the bowels watching a tribute to Oliver Reed, with clips of the film done to "I Did It My Way". I missed the first part but the end looked great. This film is going to look incredible when it's finished.

They started filming close ups of Connie and Russell. They are both so good at what they do. It was a really intense scene for the two of them and they played it extremely well. The next scene I was used. It was Connie and me up in the royal box again. The camera was too far away to see the expressions on our faces but it was still important for us to be there. They were also filming some second unit scenes from the tiger fight and another funny scene involving snakes. I got to hold them. They had about fifty snakes and a couple of snake handlers. It freaked mom out but the snakes were pretty amazing. The scene they used them in is hilarious.

They wrapped Joaquin, Connie, and me but I decided to stay to see the next scene. Branko Lustig, the producer gave me a sword from the armory that I can't wait to mount on my bedroom wall. It is really neat.

The crew moved the cameras to the gladiator camp where they started filming the gladiators practicing and a noisy crowd outside the camp. It was really neat to see the camera pass through tons of fighting gladiators. At one point in the scene Russell talks to Tommy on the other side of the closed gate. There was a full moon coming up to top off a beautiful sunset and the light at the set was very interesting. Maybe it was because it was the last night or that I usually wasn't at the set at that hour but it was kinda eerie.

At the end Ridley gave me not one but ALL the blueprints for the Colosseum! I'm so excited! Even though he's so busy he still remembered to give them to me. That's the kind of guy Ridley is. He also gave me a book on Frank Lloyd Wright's designs to further wet my likes for architecture. It was really cool. I can't wait until I get a chance to look through the blueprints at home and to look at the book on the plane back home tomorrow.

As I was getting to leave, Russell was being driven home but stopped to say goodbye. He wasn't sure if he was going to the wrap party. I said I won't forget his "Pollywaffles" and he said "Oh, you mean these Pollywaffles?" Then he held out a dozen Pollywaffles that he had in his lap waiting to give to me. It was pretty funny. Talk about going out of your way to make someone's day! He had made this film a lot of fun for me.

They wrapped and Mom and I went to the hotel to pack for our journey home tomorrow.

Around 11:30 Tomas, Mom, and I left for the wrap party in a taxi. The party was at a fancy outside nightclub with a garden and pool. Ridley and Mr. Lustig were there to greet everyone as they entered, which was really nice. I mingled through the crowd saying my final good-byes and occasionally snacking on a shrimp hors d'ouvre. I danced with more than a few people. Milly and I had a good few dances and so did Connie and I. The dance floor was covered in rose petals- to remind us of a scene from the film. The DJ had an interesting choice of music. A few people went swimming but I had no interest in getting wet at one in the morning. Towards the end of the party for me Joaquin leaned over the pool and dunked his head under the water. I guess I just couldn't resist dunking my head in too. Then Tommy came over and held me by my feet over the pool and slowly brought my head closer and closer to the water and dunked it all the way under. Connie, being the good person she is, let me dry off my head with her sweater. Finally around 2:00 AM we left after saying goodbye to everyone. This film has meant so much to me. It gave me a lot of good memories and introduced me to a lot of great people. Ridley is a wonderful director and Mr. Lustig a great producer. The cast has been very professional and kind. Hopefully I'll see them all again. A few of the people live nearby like Connie and Rob Harris. And others I'll have to hope I see them on another set!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for yelling at my mom before she went away on an emotionally taxing trip to another country to take care of my hospitalized grandmother?

The town I'm in went through a mass shooting a couple weeks ago, you might have seen it on the news. I'm a college student and was staying on campus at the time, and everyone went through lockdown for a couple of days. I remember not being alerted there was a shooting going on until I had already been walking around outside for at least a hour while it was happening five blocks down, and then staying in my room while on a call with my friends until 7 am who were trapped in other buildings and had to sleep on the floor while listening to the police scanners and news stations for more info. The lockdown ended after a couple of days, but I still felt not Great, especially with all the lack of management from campus and the news reporters taking photos and videos of us during the lockdown. I had several panic attacks for days afterwards, and I'm still having them now.

I texted my parents a couple hours after it started confirming I was okay, and my dad basically texted back "I saw, you'll be fine, just stay away from the windows." This made me very upset because I thought he already knew about my situation and didn't even bother texting or calling first. But in a phone call later with my mom where I basically exploded at her for saying the same thing, I discovered he just looked up news articles 2 minutes after I sent the text and then texted that, and didn't know how close the incident was. She said that she'd be mad if what I thought was true, but in another phone call confirmed they had a talk and then told me my dad just has issues communicating sometimes and "you have a nervous personality" and so I should learn to accomodate him more. I also blew up at this and told her that he's not the one in a mass shooting right now so why do I have to accomodate for him (triggered by a pattern of this in the past) ((He still hasn't called or texted me since other than sending a quick apology for the misunderstanding).) We ended up having a very emotionally charged talk and my mom also stated her mom got hospitalized, it's all very stressful right now, and that's also why they didn't say anything about it in the family groupchat because they didn't want to stress out everyone with even more bad news and to please not tell anyone yet about it. She started ranting again about how bad her childhood was with her mom for like a half hour and I had to cut her off and redirect her. But in the end she said she now understood how serious my situation was and that I could talk to her anytime about it.

Well, I thought that was it. But after they found the shooter 72 hours later and lockdown ended, my mom called me and basically assumed that everything was fine now and I was feeling "normal" again. I was admittedly pretty cagey and told her I wasn't for several reasons and she seemed confused but didn't push it. Then a day afterward she texted me and said one of her friend's daughters had a college essay they had to submit tomorrow and asked me if I could help them and they'd buy me lunch later when I got back. I was annoyed but I ended up telling them to send it to me in a Google Doc and I made some comments, but then she called me again and asked me if I could get on a Zoom call with the daughter and fix the essay together with her. I told her no several times and asked her why I had to do this if she didn't even bother preparing this essay beforehand until the last minute, but my mom said "It's a nice thing to do", and "She really needs help", and wouldn't take my no as an answer after 10 minutes. Then I basically blew up at her one final time and told her that I just went through a mass shooting and I've been comforting my friend who saw some of the dead bodies and I'm having panic attacks and why can't she ever take no for an answer and that I hate her and then I hung up on her.

She basically texted me later and said she realized how inconsiderate her request was when I said that one of my friends saw the dead bodies. She said she's leaving to go to visit my grandma soon but I can call her any time if I want. It's been a couple weeks and there's been no communication from either of us.

I feel bad for blowing up at her since she didn't seem to know how bad it was and also her mom is hospitalized and it's very stressful. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

Weird asks! 62, 73, 76

Hi 🥰

62- seven characters you relate to -

1 - Rachel Green (Friends) not the things one normally associates with this character- the flirty, former cheerleader, well dressed, “they always called” Rachel- but the pushover, overwhelmed, “Rachel always cries” - Kerry does too lol (also I love her character growth so much because despite her being soft, she learns how to advocate for herself and have gumption which I have yet to do lol)

2 - Elliot Reid- (Scrubs) the anxiety-ridden girlies really speak to me- like I would recommend Scrubs tk anyone just because its fantastically written but I had never seen a character I related with more than the first time I watched Scrubs all the way through and saw Elliot and her crying closet- and the episode where Dr Kelso tells her- “you’re easily startled, you get overwhelmed very quickly and despite working as hard as everyone else you’re still trying to break into the middle of the pack” - I’m in this photo and I don’t like it

3- Jess Day (New Girl) I do wish I had her wardrobe - but I have a very hard time detecting sarcasm and am trying to be less gullible but also as Jess would say “I know that I’m gullible, because people tell me that and I have no reason not to trust them” - like for me it’s like- people would just say things that aren’t true? Why would they do that?? (No I’m not proud of this about myself- also face to face I cannot understand sarcasm to save my life. I wish this was taught in school)

4 - Christy Plunkett (Mom) another show I need more people to watch because I feel it would do numbers in tumblr and it doesn’t (also it’s a show where the seven lead characters are women- awesome women- anyway-) Christy is another anxiety girlie- there’s a scene where she’s trying to meditate but keeps distracting herself and tells e friend who suggested meditating- “it turns out my mind craves anxiety” or when her new sponsor tells her that her philosophy is just tk show up and Christy tells her that the closest thing she has to a personal philosophy is- “worry about it until my hair falls out in the shower”

5 - Emma Pillsbury (Glee) a lot of reasons - and definitely not for the Emma in the later seasons lol

6 - TK Strand- (911 Lone Star) while I wish I could be as sweet and brave as he is- I’ve never seen a family that reminded me so much of my own- my parents also divorced when I was seven, another parent found someone right after but they were a good person, and they also broke up when I was an adult

7 - Will Truman/Grace Adler (Will and Grace) this might be cheating lol- but I’ve watched this show a hundred times over and both of them I relate to on a spiritual level, except for the fact that professionally they’re both extremely successful- Grace is a girl after my lack of cooking skills heart (also didn’t think of this but another reason I relate to Rachel Green- the not being able to cook) but home girl can also have one hell of an emotional breakdown, and Will because he wants to be cool, but knows he’s uptight at heart (also I realize an essay wasn’t needed for each of these but this was a fun question!)

73 - Favorite weird food combo- I highly recommend dipping pickles in ketchup- they balance each other perfectly- when I was in middle school, they sold full pickles for a dollar, and my best friend and I would split one and dip them in ketchup- and I don’t see her much anymore but we had lunch a couple years ago and it warmed my heart to see her still dipping her pickles in ketchup!

76 - favorite potato food - this is a toughie because damn potatoes are versatile!! Like if I could cook I might just eat baked potatoes all the time- but I would say I do love me some tater tots- they are so good!!!

Thank you for the ask 🥰🥰🥰🥰

[purplesurveys]

1949

Do you want the last dream you had to come true? Not necessarily. It was one of those weirder dreams where people from different areas in your life show up in one scene and say lines that their Real Self would never say – and it would make zero sense in this timeline if it were to happen, lmao.

When did you last talk to the person you’d most wanna talk to right now? Mm around 10 minutes ago, but only through Messenger.

What kind of pill did you last take? Biogesic for my horrrrrrrrrrible migraine 2 weeks ago.

Do you like wearing glasses? I like them; they're the only way I can see haha. I also much prefer glasses than contact lens because I simply don't like putting Anything in my eye whatsoever.

Does your mom know the last person you hung out with? Yeah very much. We've pretty much adoped her into our family the same way hers has always treated me as their own. I wouldn't be her maid of honor + my mom wouldn't have been designated as her godparent in marriage if we were any less close.

What were you doing 4 hours ago? I think I was playing Rhythm Hive while I was (barely) listening to the CDC in the background. I don't really give as much excited attention as I used to since my school hasn't had a podium finish in like 9 years, but I still watch to show my support.

What would you most like to eat right now? Balut tempura. I didn't finish my order of it from lunch and I'm looking forward to having it again later tonight lol.

How long were you last in the car for? Just around 15-20 minutes.

What is something good that happened last weekend? I got two new Koya plushies I found at the mall! :) I also got to pick out my dad's Christmas present. Now to think of the rest of the gifts I still need to give to like 40 other people uuuuuughhhhhhhh

Do you like holding hands or do you think it’s stupid? I do like it. It's just that I never get to do it with anyone anymore.

The last song you heard, what does it make you think of? Nobody other than the artist (Jimin), really. It's one of those songs with lyrics that aren't relevant to me.

How’d you get your last injury? Minor, but Max's scratches.

What do you like about your birthday? The fact that nobody can get mad at me for one day, heh.

Do you like being home alone at night? Sure. It never happens, but I wouldn't mind it if that were suddenly the case. I have the dogs to keep me company + can always order Grab if I go hungry.

What first comes to mind when thinking of 10th grade? So that's like sophomore year, right? Tbh, the first thing I thought of are a couple of sophomore-exclusive classes I took at the time – Asian history and statistics. Everything else about it is a blur; I can't even remember who my best friend at the time was.

What’s the scariest thing that’s happened to you? Two years ago when they found a cyst in my mom. My family has never been open around one another and as expected my parents were extremely secretive about the whole ordeal, so I had no idea what was going on much to my quiet frustration. All I knew to do was to just keep a straight face as the eldest daughter + do whatever my dad asked me to do, like getting my mom's favorite pastries to cheer her up and such.

To this day I'm still not very knowledgeable on the details, and the one time I directly involved myself in the situation was when I visited my mom in the hospital, post-hysterectomy.

Has an ambulance ever came to your house? Nope.

The person you’re thinking about - what are you thinking about them? I'm not thinking about anyone.

When did you last skip class? 2019, I guess? It's the year before the world stopped lol, and is the only reasonable guess.

Do you like the shape of your fingernails? Sure.

Did you look at your fingernails for the question above? No. I already know that I like my nails haha.

Whose pool did you last swim in? I haven't swum in a pool in years lol – the chlorine bothers me.

What’s something you like about your 3rd hour? My what?

Is formspring a good idea? I hated that shit. I never even liked seeing people air their dirty laundry through that website. Just so messy on all fronts, lol.

What’s your biggest problem at the moment? I'm devastatingly desperate for a new job to move to. I hate where I work and it chokes the happiness out of me every day. That's all I'll say because even typing about it now is making me stressed.

When did you last see a police car? Can't really remember.

Why aren’t you doing something more productive than this? I don't have to. It's a Sunday evening and I already worked well into midnight both Friday and Saturday.

How many different cars have you driven? I can think of three.

What did you do on Thursday? Had a stressful day at work + said bye to my sister who at the time was scheduled to fly out to Korea.

What color was the last thing you drank? Light brown.

What do you do on Fridays? Be stressed at work + relax and enjoy once it's evening.

Have you ever had to take desperate measures in a desperate situation? Sure.

What door did you last open besides any on your house or car? Client's office.

[darkmoonkestrel]

daily kestrel 232:

got caught in traffic so bad this morning that Peyton, who leaves the house 20+ minutes after I do every morning, passed me on the interstate (I needed to stay in the right lane to get off and he stays left for his work) so I was like 35 minutes late to work this morning, but other than that it was a decent work day

I mailed mom the captain marvel cosplay shirt and hat and filled up my tires on my lunch break (I'm convinced that Luna just really likes to have lights on, her engine light went off this morning and was replaced less than 25 miles later with the tire pressure light). I also started my hunger games reread during the kiddo's naptime and i just know that this is going to turn into a Haymitch character study reread, I've only finished chapter 2 and I have already had Thoughts™️

I got home and did some more painting in the blue room, just one more day and I should have my part totally finished, so fingers crossed we can actually start getting that room set up soon and making more unpacking progress

I sat for a while admiring Peggy laying on me while we watched Jack's latest schedule I video, Paige applied for a job with the Carter foundation tonight that I think would be a perfect fit for her, so I really hope she gets that. Peyton went to bed almost an hour ago and Paige followed shortly after. I intended to go upstairs with Paige but I found a niche puzzle game on the switch version of Professor Layton that I really vibed with, after trying and failing to want to play Skyrim, TotK, and the mosaic puzzle game I have on the switch, so I did like 10 of those levels in a row and I am finally wrapping up my night and heading up to bed

[amnotaqueen]

My husband's friend visits

My husband told me beforehand that his friend would be staying with us for "the holidays". He said he would stay with us for a week. When his friend was at our home and was speaking to my mom on the phone (because she remembered him and wanted to be friendly) and she asked him how long he was staying with us, he said until about Jan 5. That means that he planned to stay for two and a half weeks, not one. Big difference. My husband simply does not speak in truthfulness and accuracy.

He has been enjoying all the attention and supply he gets from his friend who is also a Nigerian Jehovah's Witness. His friend saw the calamitous state of our marriage when he visited the first two times a couple of years ago. Now, he is seeing how I have removed myself from most interaction with my husband. I mostly talk to him about matters concerning our son. They are like two kids having a slumber party, while I am cooking, cleaning, caring for our son, or retreating to my room so as to avoid inevitable conflict that would occur if I were to attempt to join them in their socializing. Were I to join them, I would have to agree with any and everything my husband said. He could not hear my opinion on anything without trying to debate it or minimize it. It would be too much of a strain on me to socialize with them and cook and clean and take care of our son all at the same time.

He prepared a meal for a family of four and another sister in our congregation on Saturday. They wanted to try his jollof rice. He said they were coming after field service to eat lunch with us. My husband does not know how to manage time or plan well most of the time. When everyone got there, ready to eat, he was still cooking the food. When I arrived from jogging,they were standing around watching him and his friend run around trying to prepare everything. I had cooked some stringbeans (because I didnt think he had in mind to serve any vegetables) and had left him to prepare his main dish.

He had went shopping and I later found out from him that he spent "not up to $80" on food and drinks. Around $70 dollars spent on socializing, to try to impress people, and feed off their energy when you can't scrape up enough money to put good tires on your car, pay the bill that has been past due from when you last took your son to the ER, or buy car insurance because your last car insurance has been expired for almost 2 months. Also, he doesn't have money for the afore mentioned things, but he has money to host a friend at our home for 2.5 weeks.

This friend is eating extra food, using extra water, washing clothes with our laundry detergent, using our tissue and paper towels. He is requiring my husband to use more gas as he has to be driven around as a form of entertainment. This friend is using my toothpaste because he didn't bring his own. His friend is using all of my pain medicine because he doesn't want to go to the store and buy his own apparently. I have no problem spotting someone some toothpaste or ibuprofen because they forgot to bring their own or because they didn't anticipate getting a headache, but I think it a bit much for a guest who is a grown, working man to not have gone out and purchased his own toothpaste and ibuprofen after a couple of days. There is no need to drain someone completely just because you are a guest. Anyway, if it were I, I would have gone to get my own items after a day or two and returned what they lent to me so as not to impose more of a burden than is necessary.

Turns out his friend also was driving around without car insurance. My husband finally purchased car insurance and when he sent me a copy of the policy, I saw that his friend's name was on it too. They are so forgiving of themselves for driving around illegally. My husband said, "things happen." Like it's nothing to break the law. I said that I know that things happen, but again, if it were me, I would not choose to take an unnecessary social trip, driving hundreds of miles on the interstate, knowing that I don't have car insurance. In fact, since I became aware of our insurance-less state, I cut down on driving. I had arranged to have my son dropped off to our home by school transportation instead of me picking him up (my husband said he wanted to keep driving him to school). Forgiving of themselves, but unforgiving of me and my son. My son gets no forgiveness. Always wanting to punish, spank, hit without even considering his special needs.

Speaking of hitting... Yesterday I was sweeping up after cleaning the kitchen and I heard my husband's friend hit my son. Then, I heard my husband say, "That's what he deserves," nodding approvingly. I was going to try to ignore it so as to avoid conflict, but my mother instincts made me speak up. I asked my husband, who was sitting right beside my son and his friend when our son was hit, "What happened?"

I guess my husband was going to ignore me as usual, but his friend turned to answer me. He said that my son was sticking his finger in his ear and wouldn't stop. Sounds like something my son would do. He is fixated on playing with my husband's friend. It has caused me much trouble trying to keep my son focused on tasks while this friend stays with us. It's harder to get him to finish eating, to get dressed, to do academic work, etc, because he wants to watch and play with my husband's friend. My son, being autistic, does not respond normally or typically to social cues. When someone is annoyed with him and all he wants to do is play with them, he will make it a game. Of course, this is annoying and frustrating. But I explained to the friend that he is autistic and probably has adhd. That's the lense through which he needs to view my son's behavior. But if he is like my husband, he doesn't care about my son's diagnoses. He will hit thinking he is disciplining and correcting a child who is just bad and needs a spanking... all the time.

I made it known that I didn't like that his friend hit our son. It's reinforcing to our son that it is OK to hit people (he has had issues with this in the past). I said that no other Jehovah's Witness hits my son. It hurt me to know that an adult Jehovah's Witness hit my son. How is my child ever going to have any type of decent upbringing if every adult person in his life hits him all the time because he annoys them and that's the only thing they can think of to do (which only helps in that moment, not longterm). My husband tried to shut me up, talk over me. He said he told his friend he could hit him. They had talked about it. I told him that he didn't tell me that. He goes to work and leaves his friend home with my son and I. What am I supposed to think if I saw him hit our son out of nowhere one day and my husband had not discussed with me what was said between them regarding our son? If I know my son is being particularly annoying in some way, then I can take measures to prevent it without my son being struck by anyone. If the last resort is to spank him, I should be the one to do it, not his friend, because I am my child's parent. My husband was sitting right next to my son and his friend at the time my son was apparently sticking his finger in the friend's ear. Why couldn't my husband have been paying attention to intervene? Why couldn't his friend tell my husband what was happening and my husband be the one to discipline our son? I don't trust that any and everybody's hand should be on a child. I know what they used to say about a village being needed to raise a child, but we are in a different world than decades ago. The village can do hands off types of things like giving verbal instructions, setting good examples, telling stories to educate, etc.

Also, I take issue with my husband and his friend. kind of, imposing their will no matter what. My husband knows how my son is, he has special needs. He can be a handful. I, for one, would not think it a good idea to have a guest stay 2.5 weeks because I could envision problems arising, such as my son getting annoying and overly distracted, doing socially inappropriate things. For everyone's sake, I would keep visits short to minimize annoyances and bad experiences. If and when my son matures, learns better social skills, and develops better self regulation, then we could entertain the idea of longer visits. But no. My husband's will must be done. It doesn't matter at what cost or to whom. He must get his supply of attention for as long as possible.

My husband's friend drove here in his car. He is free to leave whenever he wants to in his car. He does not have to be here. If my son is such a brat and ill-behaved, then he can pack up at any time and go back to his own home. He doesn't need to lay finger on my son. He had my husband's permission but not mine. I keep getting these feelings that kids are treated as second class citizens, almost despised in a way by Nigerians. He and his friend, at times, have acted like my son was a burden, bothersome. Sometimes they laugh at him in such a belittling way. It hurts me to pick up on those vibes. If you have such a strong dislike toward my son, don't be around him. Don't come to our house because my son lives here, you don't. My son will be asking him questions, trying to engage him on a friendly level the best he knows how and the friend may ignore him. That's a bit mean to me. He can shorten his stay, or better yet, he can have my husband stay with him at his home for 2.5 weeks and he feed him, and wash his clothes, and buy his medication and toothpaste, and clean up after him. I will stay home with my son so they can socialize in peace and my son won't be getting smacked multiples times a day, every day.

Anyway, back to the social gathering.... My husband really enjoyed it. He got complemented on his jollof rice. At one point, in the conversation, a sister asked my husband what food he liked, if he ate everything. My husband lied to her. He said he eats just about everything. That's a laughable lie. Truth is, he eats just about nothing normally eaten in the United States. If I cook with processed food he won't eat it, no canned food, not too many carbs, no sweets, no soda, no pasta. When we used to go out to eat, he would embarrass me because he would take so long to order anything. Nothing they served him was to his liking. Meat has to be burnt for him to trust that it has no "chemical" in it. I had to chime in and tell the sister that what he said wasn't true. That is part of how I was tricked, by the way. He didnt speak truth then and he doesn't speak truth now. He is misleading. He wears a mask. If no one exposes him, he will continue to deceive people.

After the social gathering, guess who was left to clean up all the mess and dishes, scrub pots and pans that my husband burnt food into? I was left to do that. They hustled to get things ready in front of the guests. After the guests left, they were done, didn't care about anything then. I asked them to return the chairs they had brought in from the garage and they ignored me. I did it. My husband had changed the trash bag in our trash can in the kitchen, but he left the full bag outside our door leading to the backyard. He didn't throw it in the big neighborhood garbage bin. I had to do it.

My son has been coughing for a couple of weeks now. I think he may have allergies. There is no health insurance, no money, to get my son checked out. As far as I know my husband still gets paid $80,000 a year or so, but I wouldn't know because he doesn't share with me and what he does share may not be the truth. I know he pays mortgage on the home we left in Georgia. I know he pays our current rent of $1800 a month. We have the usual utilities, water, electricity, internet, phones, now car insurance, gas, groceries. He doesn't spend money on my upkeep like hair and nails or clothes or entertainment. I only eat and live in the house. At any rate, there is no money to properly care for my son right now. I'm working on some things, but will take more time. It's alarming to me that even though our son has been coughing with runny nose for a while, my husband still expects him to go to meeting, go out in field service. He sat with the friends at the table on Saturday, coughing around them. I wouldn't feel right having my son around people while he has a bad cough. Sick people should stay home. I get the impression that Nigerians don't think being sick is a reason to stay out of people's company, so as not to get them sick. It is the loving thing to do. My husband's friend is sick coughing and sneezing too yet he goes to socialize with other people. Very weird and inconsiderate to me.

I will also add that his friend arrived with gifts for my son. A helicopter toy, a package of oreo cookies, and two coupons for free kids meal at Whataburger. My husband said nothing about the items he despises so passionately when he is dealing with my son and I privately. He hates processed food. He hates packaged cookies or any sweets for that matter. He hates hamburgers and fast food in general. When my mom mailed our son some gummy bears, my husband protested, asking me why I haven't told my mom not to send that junk. But earlier, our neighbors gave our son some candy, starbursts and peanut butter cup, etc. My husband smiled at them and seemed happy to receive it. There was no issue. The other neighbor gave our son a fritter she had made, it was sugary. My husband accepted it from her without protest. Now his friend came with his processed food and junk food, yet he didn't tell him not to give that junk to our son. Make it make sense.

[morgbin]

Monday 10/7 (Inspection Day)

On Sunday night around 8pm, we got an email from Mom explaining how the logistics on inspection day were going to work. Everything was as I expected but it was good to get it explicitly written out. The busses were gonna leave from Gerlach and the Ranch at the usual time, roll call at 8:30, and the inspection starts at 9. We should pack a lunch, but the "Purple People Feeder" would be out with a "special surprise." There were 10 Team Captains that Mom selected who would be leading each inspection team. And we could hope to be done by about 1pm.

On Monday morning, King Louie lamented that "everything had been packed up already" which meant there was no printer to print out the role call sheet, and we did it with the stacks of time cards instead. He got to the end without having called my name (plus several others) and I shout-whispered "Say Diesel!!!" which he did, and I shouted "DEEZ NUTS" - which put the kibosh on that one and he told the rest of the folks whose names hadn't been called to come over to Mom and have her write our names down. It turned out to be mostly the people who were out there as volunteers. I was surprised at the number of other people who had been out there the whole season as volunteers as well.

DA had some people hold up the map like usual and he plus some others gave us a pep talk.

When you walk the circle, you're going to find stuff. That doesn't mean you didn't do your job. Your job was to get 75% of the stuff, and the big stuff that would fail us.

the closure order ended a week ago. People have been camping out here. If you find some big stuff - like we found a BBQ grill this morning in an area y'all definitely walked through earlier - just call DA on the radio. We won't be judged on that sort of thing.

We're only judged on the surface area of the moop we find. If we find something deeply buried, take a picture of it before pulling it out of the ground. if we find a wadded up ball of paper, don't un-wad it.

Rocks don't count, *unless* they're bigger than 2" across

Don't stress too much about extra playa left on stuff. The BLM will run everything though a strainer later and then take pictures against a green screen and use pixel analysis to determine the actual percentage of moop left behind.

In addition to the 120 random points that we're judged on, there are 6 "points of interest" which are measured and tracked every year, for...vague statistical purposes. Those points are: The Temple, The Man, HEAT, The DPW Depot, USS, and Shoreline (also referred to as the JOC)

Today, we are all representatives of burning man. This might be the only contact that any of these BLM agents/volunteers ever have with Burning Man. Do a good job representing the org. If the BLM person you're with is a geology nerd, let them tell you all about the Black Rock Desert. If they're a No Nonsense Guy, then meet their business attitude and Get It Done. If they're curious about the event, share your best stories.

One verbal quirk I haven't observed before: When someone started saying something slightly inaccurate, DA butted in by saying "Exit. Can I double hands that?"

Then, the 10 previously selected Team Captains lined up, and there was a scramble for the rest of us to join a crew. Our crew ended up with one too many people and an awkward moment soliciting a volunteer to join a different group. But once all the teams had the right number of people (7, including the team captain), we all got into DPW fleet vehicles and headed out to do our inspections. Our crew of 8 immediately hopped in the nicest truck and some of us got into the bed of the truck, the rest of the crews did the same. Then our group was told no, we needed to switch vehicles so we ended up in one without a bed and I climbed in and out of the hatchback all day and sat in the trunk.

We received a map with all 120 points labeled, plus a list of 13 points that we were to survey There are 4 zones: Open Playa, City Grid, Walk-In Camping, and Other, labeled with initials and numbers like: OP-01, CG-001, WIC-01, O-01. We were assigned an area near 8:00&K, with some Other points and some City Grid points.

This is the map from 2023, this year's was similar.

We arrived at the first point and met up with our BLM representative, driving her own vehicle. She appeared to be a woman in her mid 20s, with a not-exactly-a-pixie-cut and wearing work pants. She introduced herself as Brandy. She said she was a "Hydro Intern" this summer and was only told she'd need to do this task sometime last week. We stood around in awkward silence as she fumbled to get the stake hammered into the ground, then she pulled the rope taut and walked in a brisk circle. There were a couple pieces of moop on the ground that we put into the ziplock bag, handed to Brandy, and then Brandy and Muppet had a conversation to decide which point to go to next. We got in the car and followed Brandy as she drove past the point they had decided to a different point that we were also assigned. As everyone in the car was saying "what is she doing?" "where's she going" etc, I thought it might be a good idea to ask pronouns during the next inspection point. We stopped the car, got out, and met Brandy at the point. She produced the ziplock bag labeled with the point that we had meant to go to, realized her mistake, and went back to the car to get the correct bag. Once we were set up along the taut string, someone suggested that we go a bit slower this time. Brandy agreed but gave the string to one of us and said she would just watch and have one of us set the pace. As far as I understand it, the BLM representative is meant to hold the string to set the pace as a way for the BLM to ensure the inspection is done thoroughly. it felt a little transgressive and exciting that she had abdicated this responsibility, but I think the inspection was done *more* thoroughly because of it - the rest of us had all participated in the test team inspections throughout Resto, and walked much more slowly than Brandy did on her first go-round.

during this test point, I tried to engage Brandy in some conversation. I asked her about her internship (walking through muddy streams and cataloging species of grasses) and her plans after the internship (dunno, will go wherever the wind blows). After we finished the circle and most of the group had walked away I asked "what are your pronouns, by the way," and the response was seeming puzzlement and "she, her, whatever." so, my previous read was just wishful thinking, alas.

At one of the points we did, we found a tent stake stuck so deep that we needed to call DA to come get it out with tools, but other than that they were all *really* clean. We asked Brandy to tell us water facts, and Shouting regailed us with whale facts, and for our final test point we decided we should subject Brandy to some meltdown music. So everyone queued up The Spark (that Irish kids song that went viral on tiktok this summer) and pressed play on our phones at the same time. We all had different crossfade settings on Spotify though, so by the third repeat we were wildly out of sync.

We had to hand off three of our points to another team that was chugging along a lot faster than we were, but then after we were done, we all headed to center camp for lunch.

The purple people feeder was indeed out there for lunch, but instead of tacos like usual, it was chili dogs (chili dog song). We all joked about how messy of a food it was to serve on inspection day, and sang along to the chili dog song and compared notes. It seemed like every team had a similar experience to us - no obviously failing spots, *maybe* one borderline spot. The mood was high. We did timesheets. One guy started a bizarre ritual he called "sink the Barbie" which was kinda like bobbing for apples but with Barbie dolls, chanting, and cult vibes.

The team leads had a huddle with DA where I presume they compared notes on the test points. although the official word won't come for months, it was clear by this point that we had passed without question.

after an hour or so of cheerful chatting, eating, and silliness, we got on our buses and headed back to town.

I packed up my stuff into the two 27 gallon totes I had, and loaded up my car. it was about 1:00 p.m., and I was hoping to leave gurlock before sunset. I sat outside the saloon and waited for Riley and Willoh. they had been talking about getting a tattoo from me - they wanted now written on their wrist where their watch would go. While I was setting up, a couple more people said they wanted a tattoo which I was super down for. I was running really low on alcohol swabs at this point though so I told Be Nasty that if she found me a bottle of isopropyl alcohol I would do hers, and thankfully she did!

After I did a few pokes on Riley, they seemed up for doing the rest themselves, and Willoh was already keen on doing theirs theirself. So I was able to do two more, including my favorite stick n poke job I've done so far on Be Nasty.

Since I was still around when the dining hall opened, I had one last meal there, then did my last stick n poke on Deadliest Threesome before heading out.

I made it to the Motel 6 in Klamath Falls and stayed the night, then got up in the morning and did the rest of the drive home listening to my Meltdown song playlist and trying to memorize Weird Al's "Albuquerque."

[slightlycrazylovelessfamily-blog]

We are back, 8 years later. Why not keep a daily journal of our adventures again, so here we go.

Quotes of the trip:

- Children fill a void you didn’t know you had

Day 1: Tailwind

It seems these days when you take a red eye there is a tailwind. No complaints, just noticing. It isn’t right to complain about tailwinds…bad mojo.

We left JFK around 615pm Saturday, July 30th for Milan. An accident near JFK made it a little tighter than we hoped…perhaps 15 mins before boarding started. Sleeping wasn’t great on the 7.5 hour flight. Dinner was good, a few episodes of The Last Dance for me, Dungeons and Dragons or straight to sleep for others.

We got our 9 passenger VW van (stick shift) and away we went to Lake Como where Stacy had arranged a lunch. As we were approaching the restaurant we saw what looked like Old Town and found a parking spot. Following a local family with a stroller we hit the gold mine. Slowly it changed from sleepy, shutters closed, walking between castles to vibrate market with coffee shops, a beautiful church and lots of people. I tried my first coffee - cappuccino - which wasn’t bad, but I don’t think I’ll be an addict anytime soon.

Putting our plan together to have lunch and get into Milan for a tour of the Duomo Milan - we bought tickets and split up to position the car for a quick getaway. We discover the intricacies of driving in areas that are also plazas for pedestrians - not even sure cars should or could be allowed in, but they were.

Lunch over looking Lake Como was sensational. Private club to the left, lake in front and smiles all around. A nice walk, the sights of water are great for fighting off jet lag.

We drive a little more than an hour to find our airbnb next to a canal, drop off our bags, and zoom off to the Duomo. Again, cutting it tight, the last people are allowed up to the Terrace at 410 and it was 405ish. Not sure what this was all about, we get out of the elevator to find ourselves on the marble roof of a massive cathedral - seemingly as large as any other. It seems to be on the back end of a complete cleaning and restoration project. The detail at the top - where it can’t be seen from the street, is incredible. To walk around in the shade and the sun, was unlike anything we have ever done nor will likely be able to do again. No way you can do this in the US; that said, it was a brilliant way to draw visitors in, have a chance to talk about God, (re)introduce God, create a moment to be grateful, pray for others, imagine what it must have been like to…

For everything I could remember, it seemed like the grandest church I have ever seen. At least 60 marble columns that seemed at least 8 stories tall. FACTS: it is the largest church in Italy, yes largest; 3rd largest in the world and construction started in 1386. There are 52 internal pillars that are 11 feet in diameter and 78 feet tall. It has more statues 3,400+ and gargoyles 135 and 700 figures, than any building in the world. It was incredible, both in beauty and in scale. To imagine this was built so long ago and still a marvel, is incredible. Check the video below of the opera singer outside the Duomo that you could hear singing on the roof, it was like a combination of Fergie and Jesus.

No trip to Europe is complete without at least one church stop, so after checking that off the list we went to our airbnb, an apartment with AC near a main metro stop. After watching Friends episode, the showers started, mom and I went to grab some groceries and dinner. I went to bed about 7 and I’m sure by 830 all was quiet. It had been a great first day that we all powered through.

Day 2: Just like new

Alarms had to be set for 930 to make sure we didn’t sleep to late. We needed to give ourselves time to be out by 11am and on to our next adventure, which was the Cinque Terre town of Monterosso al Mare. About a 3 hour drive toward the Ocean, we got our first taste of winding, narrow roads that seem like Cat Rock Road. A temperamental transmission rearing its head and opposing drivers that seem to like the middle of the narrow road made it a good intro for the legendary Amalfi Coast road ahead. Our mirror got its first hit, but once we got to our destination we realized it just popped into place and it was just like new.

The drive into town and to our apartment was only doable with google maps, it would be hard to describe otherwise. Our parking spot could only be introduced to us with video, again to hard to describe in native language, much less another. It required a key, a gate, faith and being good at using the clutch going up hill. The walk back was twice as quick, again, with a sense of adventure, a little faith and lots of luck, we found a trail as if we were locals.

Quick change and head to the beach - smiles and happiness were instantly found in the blue waters of the Ligurian Sea. A big rock was a great place to swim out, climb and jump back into the water - Piper holds the record for number of jumps.

Again, I’m reminded the common happy place is near water, ideally a beach with waves.

A walk, a return to the apartment, showers and a plan for dinner emerges. Catina Miky is found and devoured. Date night for me and Stacy with the kids at a separate table. Both tables started with anchovies, which is the speciality of the area, which was great. Stacy and I had two more fish courses of specialities but still saved room for gelato. Two and half hours for dinner in Italy requires the neutral gear; perhaps at some point I’ll be able to be so chill, I won’t need to ask for the check.

We head out of the restaurant to find a full moon so close it seemed we could reach out and touch it.

Day 3

[sunny44]

Can I buy you a drink?

Paring: Carlos Sainz x Ex- best friend!reader

Warnings: arguments, heart broken y/n.

Summary: She’s going out in Mallorca with her family and she sees her ex- best friend.

Part 2

Mallorca is for sure a very special place for me.

My family comes here every summer and there is nothing better than this time of year for me.

It had been a few days since we were here and today we decided to go out to a bar nearby.

My parents, my brothers and cousins are going earlier and my uncles are coming a little later.

I was excited about the evening and went straight to the bar to get a drink to start the night.

“Erm excuse me.” I’ve tried to get the bartender.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

That voice.

Even though I knew that his family was coming here at the same time as my family I never imagined that he would show up on the same night as me and that he would recognize me.

"Carlos."

"Y/n. How are you?"

"Fine and you?"

"Fine too. So, may I?"

"No." I answer turning back to the bar and feel his hands on my waist. "Isabel won't like that."

"Don't worry about her."

"Why? Did she get tired of your arrogance and run away? Lasted longer than I thought."

"Are you jealous?"

"I stopped having any feelings towards you a long time ago." I tried to leave but he held me back. "Will you let go of me?"

"Can we talk? Please."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Please."

"No, stop. I don't want to be around you, I don't like the person I am around you." I say quickly holding back the tears. "I can't forget okay? I can't forget how you treated me and I can't forget what you said to me."

"I want to apologize.”

"Kind of late, isn't it?" He says nothing. "I loved you and you used me, lied to me about not having anything with her, and then I found out from your mother that you were dating her. And I stood there like an idiot in front of your mother listening to her say how happy she was that you found someone to make you happy, happy like she had never seen you before. And I was left aside not only by my best friend but also by the love of my life. So no Carlos, I don't want to hear your excuses."

Having said that I got out of there and left, I had missed the whole mood.

...

When I got home I told my parents that my migraine had attacked and that I had left and after convincing them that I was fine, I changed my clothes and decided to go to sleep.

The next morning was Sunday lunch day and when I woke up I could already hear the movement in the back of the house where the pool was and the outdoor kitchen where they were organizing things.

I put on a bikini and a pair of shorts and went downstairs to the outside kitchen.

"Buenos días mi hija." (Good morning daughter) My mother says and hugs me."Te sientes mejor?" (Do you feel better)

"Buenos días mamá y sí, estoy mejor" (good morning mom and yes I’m better) she smiles and kisses my forehead and the doorbell rings.

"Can you answer it for me?"

"Sure." I walked over there strangely since everyone was here and if they weren't they could just walk in. When I opened the door I found the Sainz family standing right there.

"Y/n dear, you look beautiful." Their mother speaks and hugs me.

"Hello and thank you. Come on in." I say making room for everyone to come in. "I didn't know you were coming today."

"We ran into your parents yesterday at the bar and they invited us, they also said you had a bad time and left. Are you better now?"

"Yes I am Mrs. Sainz, don't worry."

"You know you can call me Reys dear."

"Sure, I’m sorry." I smiled. I let my mom know that they had arrived and they went over after hugging me and leaving just me and Carlos in the foyer.

"I'm sorry I ruined your night last night, I wasn't going to come today but I didn't have any convincing argument to tell my mom and I didn't want to tell her about us either."

"It's okay and thank you for not telling."

"It's the least I could do." I agreed and left him alone going to the kitchen to make dessert.

Lunch was great and even with him there, I missed having all of us together like the old days, it was as if y/n and 6 year old Carlos were there with our families together, the difference is that we are no longer kids, unfortunately life is no longer just about sharing the green chalk and making sure we don't get the mat dirty with chocolate cake.

...

The hours passed and as it got late and everyone was drunk, his family ended up sleeping here at home and the fact that he is here keeps me awake thinking about everything so I decided to go down and sit on the porch of the house in the rocking chair that was my grandfather's, the one I used to sit on his lap when I was little girl and we would watch the stars.

I was wearing short satin pajamas and the night was cold so I curled up on the chair and stretched my legs trying to warm myself up

"I remember as if it were today the jealousy you felt when you saw me sitting on your grandfather's lap watching the stars." I heard his voice but didn't answer anything and soon felt a blanket on my shoulders. "You can't sleep either?"

"Yes."

"Are you okay?"

"Do you mind?"

"Well I'm asking so yes I do mind."

"I'm fine, just thinking about everything."

"More briefly about me."

"You know the world doesn't revolve around you do you?" He laughs.

"I know but I also know that I am the reason your brain won't let you sleep."

"You're not wrong."

"I know I'm the last person you want to talk about but you can vent if you want to." I heard him sit down on the stool behind the chair I was and I sighed getting up and sitting down next to him.

"It's just that since I saw you yesterday I can't stop thinking about us." I say without looking at him but I can feel his gaze on me. "I can't stop thinking about how we would be today if we had worked out in the past."

"And how do you think we would be?" I sigh.

"I don't know, maybe we'd still be dating, maybe engaged or even married. With kids or not. I really don't know how we would be, maybe we wouldn't even be together but I couldn't help but wonder."

"You want to know what I think?" I looked at him and agreed, "I think we would be married by now because you know how hurried I am and I honestly couldn't wait to marry you. As for children I had never really thought about it since we were very young at the time but I believe we would have already planned whether we would have them or not. In fact I think we would be happy."

"Did you always think that? That we would live a good life like that?"

"I don't know, I think so."

"Then why? Why did you let us end up like that?" I felt tears in my eyes and sat up facing him. "Why did you do that to me?"

"Because that's what I was told to do." He says leaving me confused.

"What do you mean told to?"

"My agent at the time said that for me to become known faster I needed to be in a relationship with someone who already had a bit of visibility and Isabel was that person at the time, I liked her and for a while I believed I was in love with her but that was until your mother told me you were engaged to some idiot and from the jealousy I felt at the time that's when I realized I wasn't really in love with her."

“You’re talking about Alec?”

“I’ve never knew his name or who he was but I didn’t like him just by the fact he was in the position I wanted to be.”

“Well it didn’t work out after all.”

“What happened?”

“We were two different and we wanted different things in life.” We remain in silence.

"Wow I hated you’re agent." He laughs.

"I know the feeling, he was a jerk."

We stood in silence and I unwrapped myself from the blanket and came closer to him placing it over both of us since he was only wearing shorts.

"I'm really sorry y/n, I know this doesn't change the way I made you feel but I really loved you and I should have followed my heart, I still love you if that's still worth anything."

I turned to him who smiled lightly and took a lock of my hair from my face placing it behind my ear.

"It still does." I held his face and kissed him.

It was as if we had gone back to that time, the time when we hid from everyone as if we were living a forbidden romance, the time when our love for each other was so pure and there was no one standing in our way.

And I think that after many years our paths have found each other again.

Tag list: @spicyclover @starsanova

[fishsticksloser]

My I request a rottmnt x reader where they are out spending time with reader but they run into one of the villains (like ghostbear, meat sweats, or hypno your choice) and they find out that they are the reader's uncle that they haven't seen in a long time, so they catch up and see how they've been? Sorry if this request is long. Remember to stay hydrated

Villain Uncle

RotTMNT x gn!reader

Warnings: aged up, awkwardness, a tiny bit of violence, not written as headcannons

A/N: Honestly, I stopped staying hydrated for a while, but I'm back to drinking a lot of water. Stay hydrated!! I would like to preface with the fact that before Hypno mutated he went by Mezmer-Ron so I'm assuming his name was Ron... I honestly had no clue what to do with Ghostbear...

Donnie

You meet up with Donnie in the alley between the buildings you were perched on. You put the few pieces of mystic metal you found in his bag before you both turned to go back to the lair.

"Well well..." You hear a familiar New Zealand accent. Donnie tensed next to you. "I've found a turtle..."

Donnie turned and pulled out his bō, eyebrows drawn down. "I was in the middle of something." Donnie sighed. You turned to see the mutant hippo, who was all ready to pounce when he saw you.

"Y/N?" The hippo asks, lowering his rings.

"Uncle Ron?" You question.

"Uncle Ron?" Donnie turns to you.

"By days..." Hypno gasps, rings dropping to the ground. You race to him, enveloping him in a hug. A few years ago he just disappeared. "I haven't seen you in years, you've gotten so big."

"I'm hoping you weren't planning on killing my boyfriend." You laughed, Donnie hesitantly approached.

"You're dating a turtle?" Hypno huffs, both men glaring at each other.

"Says the hippo..." You answer.

Leo

Leo had portaled you guys to the beach for a day of relaxation. At least that was the plan, but soon Leo was fighting 2 giant crab men.

"I hate the Sando brothers..." Leo groans, being able to take a quick break from fighting to check on you.

"Sando?" You ask. He nods, watching them to make sure he didn't put you in danger. "Like... Ben and Carl Sando. Acrobats."

"Uh yeah..." Leo frowns, looking at you. "Why?"

"They're my uncles." You answer.

"Uncles? Your uncles are crab men... Why didn't you tell me you were related to the Sando's?"

"It never came up!" Ben charged, you quicky stepped in front. "Ben!"

"Y/N?" He grunts, skidding to a stop, Carl flies into him, making them fall over. "It really is you! What are you doing with this turtle?"

"He's my boyfriend."

"Aren't you a little young to be dating?" Carl glares at Leo.

Eventually they simmer down and you all go out for lunch to catch up. Your mom will be really happy knowing her brothers are okay.

Mikey

Mikey was headed to meet you at a yo'kai restaurant close by. He turned the corner and saw you with Meat Sweats. He couldn't see your face, but he saw Meat Sweats' gross smile. You were in danger, he had to do something.

"And I —"

"Y/N!?" Mikey calls. Rupert looked up, recognizing the orange turtle's voice. "Get away from them."

"Mikey." You grab his hand and pull him closer. "This is my uncle. Rupert Swaggert. This is my boyfriend, Mikey, he's a huge fan of Consenting Kitchen."

"Your uncle?" Mikey asks, at the same time Rupert says: "Your boyfriend?"

"We just bumped into each other." You smiled. "I haven't seen him since before he mutated."

Neither man spoke, nor did they look at you. They glared at each other. Sure Mikey was a fan of Rupert Swaggert, but he wasn't the biggest fan of Meat Sweats.

"Uh... I'm see you later, I have a date tonight." You smiled awkwardly at your uncle before dragging Mikey into the restaurant.

Raph

Both of you were chilling out in the park together. It was dark, so there wasn't a fear of people seeing him. You had grabbed takeout and drinks for a late night picnic.

This was your first date in months due to the missions Raph had to go on. But it made it all the more special.

"You wouldn't believe the guy that came in today at work." You laughed. Raph chuckled, not speaking so you could continue your story. "He kept trying to tell me that he needed left handed pencils. Like I was an idiot."

"Only one turtle?" Someone asks. You both turn and see a polar bear. "Y/N? What are you doing with this turtle?"

"Ghostbear..." Raph huffs. "I was just enjoying a date night..."

"Ghostbear?" You look at Raph who nods. "Like the pro wrestler?"

"Yeah?"

"That's my uncle!"

"What? You never told me! I was a huge fan of his... Until he tried to kill us."

[heavyhitterheaux]

You Better Call Becky With the Good Hair Part 2

Synopsis: You and Jack have now been divorced for 10 years because of you catching him cheating. The two of you get a lot more than you bargained for when someone sees an article on the internet mentioning the divorce and why it happened. Can you two overcome your past?

Pairing: Ex-Husband!Jack Harlow x Ex-Wife!Reader

Original request by: my treacherous twin @harlowsbby 😘💕

Read Part 1 First

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

“LeLe! You have ten minutes to get down here before I leave you! You’re going to make us both late!” You yell up the steps to your eleven year old daughter.

The second child that you had by Jack.

And you didn’t think there was going to be another one because of him cheating on you, but you found out right before you were able to file for divorce.

You cried for two weeks when you had found out and they definitely were not happy tears. It didn’t really hit you until you were once again holding a baby girl in your arms after being in labor for six hours.

When you originally told Jack, he obviously wanted to make it work between the two of you, but you just weren’t having it. You filed for divorce when you weren’t even two months into your pregnancy. You admit that it did add another layer of stress, but you wanted to cut as many ties as you could that held you to Jack.

But two ties that will be with you forever were your two daughters.

Even though you were upset about finding out that you were pregnant for a second time, once you saw those chubby cheeks and brown eyes you fell in love with the thought of having another mini me besides Amiyah.

He made his bed and now it was time for him to lie in it.

You happened to find out all of the information about his little fling, Rebecca Davis and couldn’t understand for the life of you what she had that you didn’t.

Until you realized,

She didn’t have a damn thing on you and your ex-husband had just been stupid.

After he got caught, he cut off all contact with her.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

“Coming mom!”

You were waiting by the door with your keys in your right hand with her lunch that you packed for her in the other.

Your oldest Amiyah lived with Jack full-time.

You admit that when she originally asked you two years ago when she was twelve that she wanted to live with him and if you were okay with it, your heart shattered. She was your little mini-me and had obviously been attached to your side since she was born. 

There was no way in the world that you would keep your children from seeing their father and vice versa.

Of course you didn’t mention to her why it seemed like there was such a disconnect between you two when at one time it was the complete opposite.

She did her best not to mention it because she noticed that despite being divorced, the two of you did still have a soft spot for one another. 

Amiyah was a daddy’s girl and there was no way of getting around it. You knew she loved you obviously, but being around Jack was top tier and you knew deep down that it hurt her being away from him for long periods of time.

It hurt you too and it had been hurting you for the past ten years. 

She was now 14 and just recently started high school and she came over every weekend and she made sure to facetime you and talk to you every day.

You knew in the back of your mind that it was only a matter of time before she found out why her parents weren’t together anymore and you were dreading it. She was getting to that age and getting more mature and knew that she was bound to ask sooner or later. 

“I’m here, I’m here!” Aaliyah said coming down the steps with her book bag and jacket in her hand.

“Mm hmm, you were up again weren’t you?” You asked while handing her the lunch you made for her as she started to make her way to the car.

“I have a history test! I want to do good on it mom!”

“I heard Netflix, but I’ll let it slide, come on.”

It was around noon and you were hanging up some new designs in your boutique when you suddenly got a call from Amiyah.

This instantly made you nervous seeing as it was school hours and she knew better than to be on her phone unless it was an emergency.

“MiMi? Are you okay?” You blurted out as you quickly sat down.

“Mommy, can you come and get me?” She only called you mommy when she was upset so you knew that this had to be a big deal.

“Bub, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

“No, just please.” She pleaded with you and you could tell that she was now crying.

“Okay, I’m coming.”

You slipped your phone in your back pocket and made your way over to where Luna and Lav were.

You opened your boutique soon after the whole cheating ordeal and Luna and Lav help you to run it on a daily basis. Homebase was in Louisville, but you had stores in New York, Miami, Atlanta, D.C, L.A., and you were working on getting one in Houston. 

“Something’s wrong with MiMi. She won’t tell me over the phone so I’m going to go get her.”

“Why didn’t she call her big ass forehead father?” Lav asked before Luna looked at her and rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know. She sounded really upset. Maybe it’s a girl thing and she needed me.”

“Well we’ll be here and we have everything covered.”

You said a quick thank you before hopping into your range rover and speeding to the high school.

When Amiyah slipped into the passenger seat, her eyes were filled with tears and you could tell that there were dry tears covering her cheeks.

“What happened MiMi?” You asked, concerned while looking at her. All she did was shake her head.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me right now. I want you to take your time and tell me when you’re ready. But for now, how about we have lunch and get our nails done?” You said while trying to wipe her tears away.

“Okay.” She quietly said before you started driving in the direction of the nearest chick-fil-a. That would always make her feel better and Jack would sometimes joke about him feeling some type of way seeing as she liked that better than KFC.

The radio was on a low volume as you were weaving through the Louisville traffic when you could see that she was looking at you.

“Mimi?”

“Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Of course. Anything for you, you’re my baby. You know that. Was your dad busy?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t call him. And Aaliyah is your baby.”

“Aaliyah is my youngest baby while you’re my oldest baby. Amiyah, let him know that you’re with me. I don’t want him to go up there when school is over and be looking for you.”

“Can you do it, please? I don’t want to talk to him.” You suddenly got a confused look on your face. In fourteen years, this was a first. 

“Baby girl, what is going on? There has never been a time when you turned down talking to your dad.”

“And I want to stay with you for the rest of the week.”

“Amiyah Margaret Harlow, you have me nervous.” You responded while pulling into a parking space.

“Please, I just… I’m mad at him.”

“Sweetheart, you have to tell him that and tell him why. How do you expect to fix things if you don’t talk about them? We taught you that.”

“I’m not ready to talk to him.”

“Okay… just… I’ll text him. Let’s just get our food.” You said while turning off the car and opening the door.

You then sent Jack a quick text so that he wouldn’t be worried and be looking for her later

You- I have Amiyah. She called me crying and asked for me to pick her up from school which I did. But she won’t tell me what’s wrong. Did something happen between the two of you recently?

Jack- Not that I can think of. She was fine this morning when I dropped her off at school.

You- She also said that she wanted to stay with me for the rest of the week and that she was mad at you. I told her that she needed to tell you this and not me.

Jack- Mad at me for what? Literally nothing out of the ordinary happened

You- I don’t know, but you need to call her later and fix this because she was crying crocodile tears when I got her earlier.

Jack- Well you focus on Amiyah and I can pick up Aaliyah. When I drop her off, I’ll talk to her.

You- Okay

“You know what you want, Mimi?”

“My usual, please.”

“You got it.”

After having lunch with you and getting a mani and pedi done, you could tell that she was still upset, but she tried not to let it show.

It was nearing 3:45 and you knew that Jack would be coming with your youngest soon and tried one more time to get information out of your oldest.

“Mimi, are you ready to talk now?” You quietly asked and turned down the television in order to hear her response.

“Um, I guess.”

“What is going on between you and your dad and why don’t you want to talk to him?”

After you asked that question, tears started to form in her eyes again and you quickly went and sat next to her and hugged her.

“Because he ruined our family.”

“What? Amiyah, we just grew apart….”

“Mommy stop making excuses. Daddy cheated on you with a lady named Rebecca and that’s why you two divorced. This is his fault why we aren’t all under one roof. And I noticed that you’re still sad all the time. You don’t date anyone and neither does he. I just want the two of you back together.”

Well, shit.

“Amiyah….”

Before you could respond to her, the doorbell rang and you hopped up to answer it.

And of course you were then face to face with your ex-husband and a bouncing bubbly Aaliyah who was sipping on a slushie from 711. She was going to be bouncing off the walls until bedtime and made a mental note to kill Jack later for that since he let her get the largest size. 

“Sorry, mommy! Forgot my key again!” She said as she stepped past you and smiled. She looked to the living room to see her older sister and she was upset and quickly went to give her a hug. You admired their relationship and how close that they were.

You then turned back to Jack and he was now looking at you concerned.

“Umm, first off, hi.” You said, trying to come to terms with what Amiyah just told you.

“Hey, you okay? Where’s Mimi?” Jack asked, trying to step past you, but you quickly pulled him back.

“She knows.” You whisper and Jack looked at you confused.

“Knows what?”

“Why we aren’t together anymore and she is upset with you.”

“How did she even find out?” Jack muttered and his heartrate had now sped up.

“It is all over the internet, Jackman if you know where to look. We did our best with trying to shield her, but there’s only so much that we can do. That’s what comes with having a father whose famous.”

“Fuck.” Jack quietly muttered and you had no idea what to even do at this point.

You then noticed how Jack’s eyes went wide and you turned around to see Amiyah giving him a death glare.

“You are such a hypocrite! You tell me not to settle when it comes to boyfriends after I got cheated on and that I deserve the best when you were out here cheating on your wife!”

“Amiyah, baby….” Jack said, pleading with her. 

“No! How could you do that to her and do that to us? Now we have to split our time between two houses, have two of every holiday all because of what you did! You weren’t thinking of us at all!”

“Amiyah! Do not raise your voice at your father!”

“Mom, how can you still take up for him after what he did to you and to us?”

“At the end of the day, he is still your father and you need to respect that.”

You suddenly heard slurping and you looked to your left to see Aaliyah looking on with wide eyes.

“Um, so can we have pizza for dinner? And daddy? I know that lady you cheated on mommy with definitely wasn’t as pretty as she is.”

—-

You had finally convinced Amiyah to talk to Jack while you went and entertained your youngest child upstairs in her room to give them two some privacy.

They were both in the living room sitting next to each other while Amiyah had her arms crossed.

“Amiyah?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry that you found out from the internet and not from me about what happened. I regret what I did every single day and I’m holding out hope that one day your mom will forgive me and take me back. I admit I was wrong and that instead of working through our problems in our marriage, I just wanted a distraction from it all and that’s what I did. I still remember the look on your mom’s face when she found out and my heart breaks every time that I think about it. I told you not to settle for less because I meant it. I guess that was my karma. Me cheating on your mom and then you getting cheated on. I never thought that I would see you in that position and the fact that I know I wouldn’t want that to happen to my daughter so why would I do that to someone else’s daughter? Been ten years since it was finalized and I still get on myself about it every day.”

“She still cries from time to time about it. I know she doesn’t think I know, but I do. I heard her talking to Aunt Lav the other day and I heard her say as much as she hates what you did that she misses you.”

“And I have no one to blame but myself for it.”

“I think she would take you back if you asked her.”

"I highly doubt it. She barely accepts the gifts that I give her for her birthday every year. And besides, it's been ten years."

That's when the wheels in Amiyah's head began turning to try and come up with a plan to get her parents back together.

“It’s been ten years, but neither of you ever dated anyone else. That counts for something. Right?”

—

Amiyah had been planning what she wanted to do for the two of you for about a week now, but she knew that she was going to have to have help. And what better people to help her than the two people who were covering up her father’s cheating ways?

Uncle Urban and Uncle Sunni.

Amiyah- Uncle Urban and Uncle Sunni we miss you. Can you pick me and Lele up from school today?

Aaliyah- Yes! Pretty pleaseeee you owe us a lunch date

Urban- anything for my girls. I'll make sure Uncle Sunni isn't late this time either

Sunni- That was ONE time 

Amiyah- One time too many smh

Amiyah had let both of you know that their uncles would be coming to get them and that they didn’t need to worry about picking up either of them from school. You decided to treat yourself and get your hair done since there was no need to rush to get either of them.

They had all finished eating and Amiyah had her arms crossed and was eyeing both of her uncles as they both looked at her confused while Aaliyah was looking at the dessert menu.

Amiyah nudged her and she knew it was game time.

"You two okay?" Sunni asked concerned while trying to figure out what was happening.

"We know what you two did and the both of you are going to help us fix it."

"What did we do?" Urban curiously asked.

"Not tell our mother that our father was cheating on her which led to their divorce."

Urban went pale

Sunni was trying not to choke on his drink 

Aaliyah was just following in her big sister's footsteps.

"They're both miserable and we want to see them back together. Well I’ve actually never seen them together since it happened when she was pregnant with me.” Aaliyah added while pointing to the picture of the molten chocolate lava dessert and scooting it towards Urban. 

"Girls this really isn't our business to intervene with this. Your parents…"

"Not intervening eleven years ago is why we're where we are now. Obviously daddy is at fault. However, you two turned a blind eye and hurt my mom in the process and it's the fact that she still cries about it to this very day. I want my entire family back under one roof." Amiyah added and the two of them knew that the girls were not about to let this go. 

“So, what exactly did you two have in mind since it doesn’t look like we’re getting out of this one.” Sunni muttered while looking at Urban. 

“First, we have to get them to spend more time with each other. I don’t know how, but I’ll make it happen. And once that happens, I want to recreate their first date that they had at Vincenzo’s.”

“Are we actually doing it at the restaurant or?”

“No, in mommy’s backyard and the two of you are responsible for setting it up while we keep them distracted. It helps that Aaliyah is with her and I’m with dad.”

“And what if this doesn’t work?” Urban asked nervous about the answer that his goddaughter was going to give him.

“It has to, because I don’t have a plan B.”

“If it doesn’t, I’ll just start crying. Usually they both fold when that happens.” Aaliyah said while digging into her dessert.

“Mom is going to kill you. You have been eating sugar nonstop all week.”

“She won’t know if you don’t tell her.”

“She’ll be able to tell because you’ll be bouncing off the walls until you go to sleep.”

“Okay so when are we starting to execute this plan?”

“Now.”

—

“Daddy, this is pretty. Do you think mom would like it? You should buy it for her.” Amiyah said while she was out with her dad to get some new shoes that she wanted and saw a necklace that had you written all over it.

“She would probably like it.” Jack answered her while shrugging and admiring the necklace at the same time.

“So buy it for her.”

“Mimi, we talked about this.”

“You have to try. I know you still want to be with her and that she wants to be with you. It’s like you’ve given up!”

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, baby girl, but she made her intentions very clear when she told me she wanted to divorce me.”

“No offense, daddy but that was 100% your fault.”

“I-...”

“Tell her how sorry you are!”

“Don’t you think I’ve already tried that? I still give her gifts on her birthday every year, still get her flowers periodically and even give her gifts on what was supposed to be our anniversary. Let it go, Amiyah.”

“But what if I don’t want to?”

“You doing this might make her more upset in the end and that’s the last thing that I want. Did you think about that?”

“Well, no. I just want to see both of you happy and right now I feel like I’m watching a very sad episode of those soap operas that grandma likes.”

“I know, but promise me you’ll stop. It’s just…”

“It’s just what? You don’t have a secret child do you?”

“AMIYAH MARGARET!”

“What?!? I was just asking!”

“It’s nothing, now let it go and stay out of grown folks business. Your mom is the only person that I've ever gotten pregnant.”

“But you two are my business. You’re my parents.”

“You definitely got that attitude from her. It has Y/N written all over it.”

Amiyah was now back to square one with her plan, but she wasn’t giving up. She instructed her baby sister to tell their mother that she missed the two of them and to invite them over for a movie night.

“MOM, PLEASE?!”

“You’ll see your dad this weekend. You can’t wait until then?” You asked while scrolling through your phone on door dash, not wanting to cook anything for the two of you tonight.

“No! I miss him and I want to see him now!” She whined and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what was going on between the both of your daughters lately. 

“Come on, let's facetime him.”

“That’s not good enough!”

“Aaliyah, what in the world is going on with you and why are you almost twelve years old having a full blown temper tantrum?”

“I just miss daddy. I just… I never got to experience having both of you under one roof and Amiyah did. It’s just not fair.”

All you did was sigh. 

You couldn’t even be mad at her about that one.

“Okay, baby. Let’s facetime him and ask him and Amiyah to come over for movie night if he isn’t doing anything. Sound like a plan?”

“Yes.” She answered while sniffling and laid her head in your lap while you began to call him.

He picked up immediately. 

“What’s wrong? You have that look on your face.”

“Your youngest misses you and wants you to come over for movie night if you and Amiyah aren’t doing anything.”

“Let me talk to daddy! Hand me the phone please!” Aaliyah said while popping up from your lap and you quickly handed her the phone. 

“Daddy!”

“Yes, baby girl. How are you?”

“I miss you so can you and Mimi come over so we can have pizza and watch movies?”

“I miss you too, but you know that it’s a school night, right?” Jack asked while eyeing her. One thing that the two of you always prioritized was them doing well in school. 

Her smile immediately turned into a pout.

“Yes, but…”

“I’ll tell you what. Is all your homework done?”

“Yes! And I already finished studying for my test at the end of the week.”

“I expect an A on it.”

“It’s my best subject. Of course I’ll get an A.”

“Okay, we’ll be over there soon. Hand the phone back to your mom.”

“Okay!”

Aaliyah handed you back your phone and proceeded to go upstairs to her room.

“What in the world is going on with your daughters lately?” You asked while eyeing him.

“Oh, so they’re my daughters now?” Jack answered, noticing that you were wearing your favorite pair of earrings that he had bought you almost 13 years ago. 

It’s been years since he saw you wear them. 

“Yes, because they act just like you.”

“Mimi got that attitude from you. Let’s be clear about that.”

“Okay, now that I agree with but, Aaliyah was literally having a full blown temper tantrum until I called you. She hasn’t done that since she was six.”

“I wonder why.”

“She… she did say that she felt some type of way because Amiyah got to experience having two parents under one roof and she didn’t.”

“Oh. I can imagine that’s hard on her.”

“Yeah, but um.. You two can come over when you’re ready.”

“I’ll pick up pizza for us. Be there soon.”

“Okay.”

“IS THAT MOM?!” You heard Amiyah yell in the background before she proceeded to grab Jack’s phone without waiting for an answer.

“Hi my baby. It’s me.”

“I got an A on my science project!”

“Was that the one that I helped you with?”

“Yes, because all daddy can help me with is music class.”

“HEY! I HEARD THAT!”

“I got my brains from mom! We all know this!”

“Give your dad some credit, he’s smart too when he wants to be.”

“Y/N! Outta pocket!” Jack exclaimed and all you did was laugh.

“Hurry up and get here you two.”

“Aaliyah, baby, not again!” Jack exclaimed as she decided that she wanted to watch Encanto.

“But it’s my favorite and the two of you used to sing the songs to me when I was younger!”

“That’s all you ever pick! Do something else!” Amiyah said while stuffing her face with pizza.

“Fine, Encanto, the sing along version.”

“AALIYAH!”

“Okay fine! Princess and the Frog!”

“Now we’re talking!” Amiyah answered since that was her favorite Disney movie. The two of them purposely sat next to each other and spread out across the couch so that you and Jack had no choice but to sit next to each other too.

After the movie had gone off, you had mercy on your youngest child and let her watch Encanto next, before the girls knew it, the two of you were sleeping with Jack’s arm wrapped around you and your head was on his chest.

“Mimi, take a picture. We’re going to need this later.”

"They look so cute!"

You woke up by the sound of your two daughters and it seemed like they were arguing.

“No, Aaliyah! Not like that! Here let me help you!”

“But I can do it!”

“You’re going to drop it because it’s too heavy. You carry that and I’ll get this. Come on before they wake up.”

You were startled to find that you were in fact cuddled up against your ex-husband with your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you and it was light outside.

“Good morning parents!” Amiyah exclaimed while setting a tray of food down in front of the two of you.

“What time is it?” Jack asked with his eyes still closed.

“Umm 9.”

“Wait a minute! You two should be in school!” Jack said, fully alert and looking at the two of them. Aaliyah noticed that his arm was still wrapped around you and smiled to herself.

“Umm, you see what had happened was…”

“Amiyah Margaret!”

“We forgot to set our alarms! We can stay home and have a family day, right?!” She asked hopeful.

“Just this once.”

“Good, because I have an entire day planned out for us.”

You and Jack immediately groaned.

“She got that from you.” Jack whispered and you immediately laughed.

“Did not, that is definitely all you.”

—

Over the next two months, you and Jack had been spending more and more time with each other and the girls as a family and reality was starting to hit you with how much you missed him.

You were now looking at your wedding album pictures with you and Jack and trying not to cry. It was two in the morning and you couldn’t sleep. 

Aaliyah got up to go to the bathroom and saw your bedroom light on and knocked on the door.

“Mommy, can I come in? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, baby, come in.” You answered her while quickly wiping away your tears so she wouldn’t see you.

“Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I saw your light on when I went to the bathroom. What are you looking at?” She curiously asked and knew that there was no use in hiding from her.

“My wedding pictures.”

“I’ve never seen them before!”

“You want to see them? Come here.” You said and patted the space next to you and she immediately hopped up.

You turned all the way to the beginning and she was mesmerized.

“You look so pretty and… so happy.”

“I was. I definitely was.”

“Daddy looks so handsome and so excited to marry you.”

“It was an amazing day. We were actually scared that it was going to rain, since it had rained all week, but on the day of the wedding it didn’t.”

“Oh, Uncle Urban always had long hair, I see.”

“He has for the most part and he was your daddy’s best man.”

“And there’s Uncle Sunni next to him.”

“I want to show you this one, I think you’ll like it.”

You turned to the picture that showed you and Jack laying next to one another. You were looking into the camera, but Jack’s eyes were focused on you. Your youngest was already a hopeless romantic so you knew that she would love it.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, bub?”

“Daddy still looks at you like that when you aren’t paying attention.” 

It was now time for the final part of the plan and Amiyah and Aaliyah were responsible for getting both you and Jack to the backyard by 7 pm.

School had let out last week for the summer and the girls had requested that they had dinner with their parents in the backyard because of how nice it was outside.

Aaliyah was currently trying to get you to put on a dress that was similar to what you had worn on your first date with Jack while Amiyah was trying to do the same thing for him.

“You should definitely wear this one.” Aaliyah said while going into your closet and picking the dress off of the rack.

“Umm, why? It’s just going to be us, your sister, and your dad. I would usually wear that when going out to dinner, not staying in.”

“But it would look so pretty and do your hair how you had it last week. Daddy loves when you wear it like that.”

“Aaliyah, what are you up to?” You curiously asked because the last part of her statement threw you off. Since when did she notice that Jack liked your hair like that and why did she care?

“Nothing, just want you to dress up. You haven’t done it in a while and I know how happy it makes you. I’m going to wear my dress that’s similar to this one. Can you put my hair in a high ponytail when I’m ready?”

“Sure baby. Go get ready because they’ll be here soon.”

You took a quick shower and moisturized with your lavender lotion to help calm you down.

Were you actually nervous to be around your ex-husband?

You were staring at the dress that Aaliyah had laid out for you on your bed debating on whether you were going to put it on or not.

A sigh escaped from your lips as you slipped it on along with a pair of your white sandals and proceeded to sit at your vanity to start to do your hair and make up. You were thinking how you had worn it last week and then you suddenly had a realization.

The style was similar to the one that you wore on your wedding day.

As you were finishing up, Aaliyah came into your room wearing a dress similar to yours like she promised, except hers was a light purple.

“Are you ready? Amiyah text me that they’re on their way.”

“Just about, now let me do your hair for you.”

After you finished doing her hair for her, she ran down the steps as she heard the doorbell in order to answer it while you were still trying to calm your nerves.

“MOMMY! COME ON! WE’RE HUNGRY!” You heard Amiyah yell from downstairs and decided that it was now or never.

You walked downstairs to see Jack also dressed up in a similar outfit that he wore on your first date and simply eyed your daughters who had the biggest smiles on their faces.

“I-... they made you dress up too?” You asked while looking at him and took everything in you to not hop on him right then and there.

You were done with not being honest with yourself. 

You missed your ex-husband. 

“Amiyah wouldn’t let me leave the house until I did. She actually made me change my outfit because I was wearing something else before.”

“Well, you look nice.”

Actually he looked fine as fuck, but you didn’t want to say that in front of the girls. 

“And so do you. Love when you do your hair like that.”

“I told you, mommy!” Aaliyah whispered to you and you simply smiled.

“Okay, now that we’re all here, follow us.”

“What in the world are you two up to?” Jack asked as both of you followed them to the backyard where you saw Sunni and Urban also dressed up.

“Welcome to Vincezo’s de la Harlow! Your servers tonight will be Uncle Sunni and Uncle Urban! We have a four-course meal ready for you! Have a seat at the table and we’ll bring out your drinks. We know daddy doesn’t drink alcohol, so I hope sparkling water is okay.”

Both of your jaws were on the floor.

“Go on! Don’t just stand there, sit down!” Amiyah said while smiling at her parents.

The two of you walked over to the table and Jack pulled out your chair for you before going to sit across from you.

“Uhhh Urban, Sunni? What did my daughters threaten you with to make you do this?” You asked while looking over at both of them.

“Uh, nothing. They just wanted our help.” Urban answered you while trying not to mention the fact that they knew that he and Sunni had known about Jack’s cheating ways and didn’t say anything to you. 

“You seriously recreated our first date?” Jack asked while looking around at the decorations around the backyard.

“This was all them, they came up with the plan and simply asked for our help.” Sunni added while shrugging.

Amiyah came and sat two glasses filled with sparkling water in front of each of you before Urban and Sunni went back in the house which you assumed was to get the food.

“When in the world did they have time to do this? This was happening in my backyard and I literally heard nothing.”

“They probably did it while you were at the boutique earlier.”

Just then Sunni placed a plate of fried mozzarella between the two of you.

Same thing that you had on your first date.

“Wait, Sunni did you actually make this or?”

“Y/N, come on. Since when do I cook? This actually is from Vincenzo’s so the two of you won’t be poisoned by my lack of cooking skills.”

“I was just curious.” You said while holding up your hands in defense. 

When Sunni walked away, it left the two of you alone.

It wasn’t an awkward silence, but you were wishing that Jack would say something.

“I now see that they’ve been planning this for months.”

“Planning what?”

“They want us back together. Did you notice that they’ve been wanting to spend more time with us? I think this is the most time we’ve spent together since before we were divorced.” Jack said while reaching for another piece of fried mozzarella. 

“And the time where Aaliyah had a temper tantrum because she missed you? Movie night? Then probably purposely not setting their alarms to spend the day with us? It makes sense.”

“Aaliyah told me that you showed her our wedding pictures not too long ago.”

“I did. And that was actually the first time that I’ve looked at them in ten years.”

“I would’ve thought that you would have put it in a place where you knew that you would forget about them.”

“Why? Why would I do that?”

“Don’t you regret marrying me?”

“No, not even for a second. That thought has NEVER crossed my mind. Besides giving me my two beautiful girls, I’m still very thankful to have been married to you.”

“That feels good to hear you say.”

“Despite what happened and why it ended, there should be no doubt in your mind how much I love you and how much I care about you still. That just doesn’t go away overnight.”

“And apparently it doesn’t go away in ten years either. But we’ve done a good job with co-parenting them.”

“I agree.”

“Wait, did you say you love me and care about me? Like present tense?” Jack asked suddenly, having a realization of what you had just said.

You simply nodded.

“You do not know how hard it was for me to file for divorce. I found out that I was pregnant and my mind was on overdrive. At that time, I didn’t think that I would regret it.”

“How do you feel about it now?”

“Before Aaliyah came in and saw the wedding pictures, I was looking at them and crying and thinking to myself where did I go wrong to have you cheat on me?”

“No, absolutely not. You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t ever think that. I was just so wrapped up in focusing on myself, I forgot what was really important and that was you. I regret doing that every single day. All I ever wanted was for you to find somewhere in your heart to forgive me for treating you like that.”

“But I have forgiven you. I forgave you a long time ago because it was not doing me any good to hold onto that hurt. The best thing for me was to move on.”

“But you haven’t moved on, neither of us have.”

“Because I knew deep down that I couldn’t imagine myself being married to anyone else.”

After the two of you had finished dessert, you were simply looking up at the stars that were covering the sky and sighed to yourself.

“I have to ask…” You heard Jack say and you looked over at him to give him your full attention.

“Ask, what?”

“Could we maybe go out on an actual date? Without our girls around? You said that you forgave me for what I did, so I’m asking for a second chance.”

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[queenimmadolla]

Out of Touch In Harmony

SUMMARY: in which Eddie and his arch-nemesis smoke a couple of joints and talk about how much they (don't) hate each other. then proceed to suck face. WARNINGS: A whole lot of banter and misunderstandings. some fluff with a liddlebito spice. NOTE: the random thought that turned into +4k words. i tried to leave the timeline vast enough for drabbles and other stuff in case this becomes a series or something. i was also high the entire time I wrote this, and seeing as how I just finished like 5 mins ago, there are definitely gonna be mistakes because i am still indeed trippin. i'll fix it later though. also don't steal my shit i guess.

masterlist

You could feel the tension sloshing throughout the classroom, threatening to burst through the door and flood the halls.

English class with Ms. O’Donnell wouldn’t be considered entertaining to literally anyone in the entire world and truthfully it’s neither the subject nor the teacher (she’s too fucking expired to be as much of an old crone as she is) that keeps a smug smirk plastered on your face.

It’s the dumb ass super senior two rows back, one seat over.

You weren’t like the others. No, you hadn’t judged Eddie Munson based on reputation only. To you, he had the chance to prove he wasn’t a freak or a loser. And that’s were you went wrong. Unfortunately, that stupid little crush you had on him in the fourth grade when he was the only one to compliment your (admittedly) atrocious hair cut (which you still gave your mom a hard time about to this very day) clouded your judgement. He was two grades ahead of you, and your little self had been heartbroken when he moved onto high school, while you stayed in middle school. 

You were completely fucking flabbergasted when you finally followed and saw he began to develop the sense of style he had currently, shit, you hadn’t even thought it was weird. It was hot and most certainly an awakening. You were meant for a different crowd, though. Joined Cheer as a freshman, and quietly pined for him. Then you found out he had a crush on Chrissy Cunningham sophomore year, so naturally you hated him. 

That bitch Erin hadn’t been able to shut the hell up about it in the locker room. And Chrissy, the endearing little chick, found it cute. Not cute enough to date him, thank god, but cute nonetheless. Plus, you didn’t like how he ripped on other people’s interests just because some (okay, most, but not all!) didn’t like his. It hadn’t been too big of a deal until it had been your table that was the focus of one of his Public Lunch Announcements. You’d been so embarrassed, especially after seeing the way he smirked as he soaked the sudden emotion up, proud of the fact that he’d humiliated you.

You didn’t join the of hierarchy of popularity though until senior year. Freshman year was spent pining (and then hating) in quiet after him and being plain, sophomore year was spent more or less the same except your body proportions didn’t match your face, junior year you were almost there and losing the meek-ness that anchored you down from ever reaching confidence. You’d managed to squeeze Volleyball and Softball into your schedule. You’d also easily managed to maintain straight A’s (we don’t talk about how you’ve barely made it to Algebra 2 and that math is the subject you had to actively sweat your vagina off studying to pass) which pleases the parent (ensuring a bit more freedom), and then your cheer coach Connie announced that you and Judy would be taking over as Co-Captains since Alizae and Carmen graduated. Of course, Chrissy managed to become the most popular girl in school, but you still managed to obtain a validating amount of respect, and everyone says 'hi' to you first now.

Except Eddie. No, you two hadn't acknowledged each other’s existence except in instances to cause the other as much public embarrassment as they could in a single sitting. 

You still maintained the latest victory after sticking some gum to the beginnings of a stream of toilet paper and managing to smush it against his dirty reeboks under the guise of kicking his shoe in class. He’d made it to his next class before he noticed what the looks were about. People usually had the decency to save the laughter for lunch, he should’ve caught on sooner.

He had failed senior year. Twice. Another thing you liked to use against him when you two got particularly nasty with each other.

It was a genuine hateship, one that had never managed to meet this amount of tension until this particular class. While you’d had the Senior Citizen for other classes before, the teachers mostly lectured. O’Donnell asked questions. Which gave you so many chances to embarrass him in front of the whole class by correcting his dumbass answers with as much snark as you could.

This time he couldn’t provide an example of a hyperbole and you’d offered up the solution. Sure, it was in relation to his embarrassing life and everyone laughed, but he hadn’t appreciated it.

You could feel the heat of his stare the rest of the class, but by the time lunch had ended, you’d forgotten about each other’s existence. He’d gone off to do stuff for hellfire and probably sell or whatever else it is he does, and you went to cheer. 

Practice had ended earlier than normal when coach Connie hurt her hip and started crying over losing her youth.  Sensing the oncoming breakdown, the team had encouraged her to just call it a night, which is how you found yourself on the wooden bench some ways into the woods behind the school.

With your schedule, you didn’t get as much downtime as you’d like this early in the day. Very disheartening, considering the sun was about an hour from sunset. So you’d thought you might just give yourself some time to yourself rather than go spend it with your friends. Besides, you had a nice joint to keep you company and your walkman. 

You were about halfway done with the joint and you lowered your headset to swap out the tape when you heard a branch snap behind and nearly had a heart attack, twisting around to actually find someone sitting behind you.

You gasped, a hand rushing up in attempt to calm the organ through your clothes somehow, relief flooding you when you realized it was just Eddie.

He had that stupid smirk plastered on his face, probably got a thrill from scaring you.  “Hey-,” it only widens as you settle enough to relax in a huff. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, spitfire.” There’s nothing nice about it.

It’s definitely the weed allowing you to be this cordial, because you find yourself saying, “It’s fine. Never thought I’d be happy to see your face. You, as opposed to like Jason Voorhees or some other killer.”

Eddie squints at you, slight disbelief on his face before it morphs into something resembling realization as he gives the air a good sniff, the corners of his lips twitching.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” He pushes himself dramatically back from the table, taking a few steps back all the while his expression takes on mock shock. “Spitfire…Spitfire, are you high?”

You can’t help the slow smile that you find your lips pulling up into, you give a pathetic attempt at hiding it before you give in. “Yeah. Uh, I am. Why is that surprising, you seem shocked.”

He stares at you, grin softening while he tongues his canine. You realize, thanks to your delayed sense of any self preservation, that his gaze is focused on you. Like hyper focused on you. Oh, shit. He had you when you were unable to defend yourself from an insult. 

Then he just chuckles, gaze flickering to the ground and then back to you as he flicks his wrists before crossing his arms over his chest. “Nah, I just guess I never entertained the idea that you might smoke. Anything other than a cigar, anyways.”

You wince, but giggle knowing he’s referring to your projected air of sophistication compared to his. “Don’t even put that thought in my head, just the thought of a cigar tastes terrible to me.”

He laughs along with you, slowly making his way closer. “No cigars, noted."

You’re feeling relaxed, plus you know no one is around so you decided to offer a moment of truce. “Would you care for a temporary olive branch? Olive joint?” 

Eddie scoffs and mumbles, “Would I care for a…” But he trails off, gaze feeling heavier as the those stupid big beautiful eyes stare at you. You can feel yourself beginning to react, how every single one of your nerves seem to be coming slowly back to life. Why did you feel like something was happening? “Yeah. Yeah, I’d care for an olive joint.” He closes the distance between you two, keeping an arms length away (his arm).

You had no idea touching fingers could feel as good as it does when his brush yours as they take the joint. You glance up at him to find him still watching you, then he moves to sit on the bench next to you, elbows leaned back against the table as he wraps his surprisingly plump for a dude’s lips around the filter and inhales. He exhales slow, the smoke wafting around you two, and pulls it away to eye it. “You make this?”

“Yup.”

“Nice craftsmanship.” It sounds genuine, which pleases you again for that mystery reason,

“Thanks, I spent an hour on it.”

He lets out a low whistle, looking thoroughly amused from you to the joint. “If you’re trying to impress me, spitfire, consider it a job well done. You craft instead of roll, so I’m guessing you don’t get to smoke often?”

You rest your elbows on before answering. “No, I smoke pretty often.”

“So then you don’t smoke often and get to enjoy it?”

“That’s right.”

“Pity.”

You spend the next 15 minutes passing it back and forth before it’s done. Eddie tosses it and rubs it into the dirt with his shoe before producing another one from seemingly nowhere. “Guess it’s my turn to extend the olive joint.” 

It’s stupid, but you grin wide, trying to ignore the way his stare keeps flickering back over to you while he takes the first hit. 

You take that moment to really look at him. How pretty his hair was, your fingers twitched, just itching to play with the waves. You wonder how soft it would feel, twirling around your fingers,  would it be easy to run your hands through? How would it feel like, pressed up against your neck, or with thebottom half framing your face if he was on top? And those eyes, should be illegal for a man with a smile like his to also have eyes that beautiful. So intense, but so telling. That’s how you could always tell when you managed to push his buttons. Those eyes wouldn’t let him hide a thing.

Jesus. So much for being over Eddie Munson. The attraction you had nail gunned to the back of your head all those years ago came back much faster than you’d been able to learn how to ignore it.

You hoped like hell it was just the weed.

You couldn’t sit in silence anymore. “Why didn’t you try?” You ask, taking the joint as he offers it. 

Eddie sort of gets this far off look in his eyes, and you know he’s aware of what you’re talking about, trying to decide if he’s going to play dumb or answer your question. It almost surprises you, “First time, I guess I was rebelling or some shit like that. Just didn’t care all that much, wasn’t too big of a deal for me. Second time, I got a little too comfortable. Thought I knew enough shit to scrape away with the bare minimum, but Ms. O’Donnell changing her final was a move I failed to anticipate.”

“Didn’t roll high enough to survive, huh?”

You noticed how he suddenly went stiff, turning to you slowly. “What did you just say?”

Oh, god. You were trying not to break the peace by saying something nice and relative to his interests but you’d probably fucked it up. Was that not how it worked?

“Isn’t that a thing?” He just stares at you, leaving your panic to heighten slightly and you flounder. “In D&D? Dungeons and  Dragons? The game you play?”

He finally put you out of your misery, lips curling up into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. God, he’s so cute. “Yes, it’s a thing. In D&D. Dungeons and Dragons. The game I play.”

You let out a sigh of relief, ignoring his chuckles. “God, Eddie. You almost ruined my high!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t expect you to know any terminology, let alone use it accurately.” You go back to sitting side by side.

“Good, that’s what you get for judging people.” You pulled your cardigan a little tighter around you and you dropped the stub to the ground. The sun was dipping low, barely visible behind the tree line. 

“Now, wait just a minute. You’re trying to tell me not to judge anyone?” He sounded incredulous and you did not appreciate that.

“Are you implying I’m judgmental?” Your arms crossed just under your chest, and you caught the quick glance down he made. He seemed embarrassed about it.

“Implying? No. Stating? Yes.” Your mouth drops open in shock, and he continues. “C’mon, I know the score, Spitfire. I don’t exactly meet the criteria for normal or Christian around here. You took one look at me, and knew I was a bad apple.”

The Christian comment has you biting back a smile. “I did no such thing. I remember you from long before you were even a headbanger. Back when you could strike a match on that head of yours.”

He stands up at that, pacing a little in front of you before facing you with that shy look on his face and his arms crossed. “You remember me?”

Did he remember you?

“Yeah,” You don’t even bother to hold off with some teasing. “Yeah, how could I forget the first boy who ever lied to me to spare my feelings?” 

His smile is so soft now, and it’s making that feeling in your stomach long for him again. “I really did like your haircut.”

You squint, slightly suspicious but he said it so softly. “You’re lying.”

He shakes his head, brown waves framing his face. “No. I thought you looked cool.”

You don’t know what to do with that. Fourth grade you would have fainted. “Huh. Guess it’s my turn to be surprised.”

It’s quiet for a few beats. 

“Sooo, is there a reason why you decided you were gonna be a bitch to me in a high school?” He’s smiling when he says it, so you know he’s still being playful.

“You had it coming! I never thought you were a freak, or any weirder than any other teenage boy finding out who he is, anyways. I actually…” Why does it feel like you’re offering the villain in your life a huge chance to kill you? “…kind of admired you. Despite how hard everyone ragged on you, you just never conformed. And you didn’t just take their shit either, you gave it back.” Then you think about that day in the cafeteria, when you’d been on the other end of that.

“Sometimes, to people who don’t necessarily deserve it, too. Like my Sophomore year, when you told the whole school to take a good look at us because they were witnessing overachievers who would amount to nothing but a couple of retail salesmen in the making. Future Failures of America.” You avoid looking at him as you stare down at the pitiful little nub of a joint on the damp dirt.

If you were looking at him, you’d see him wince, a hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “Senior Year number one. Rebel who doesn’t care about anything phase. Always finds a way to continuously come back and kick me in the ass.”

Yeah, it hurts but some part of you, the embarrassed part probably, found it silly that you’d hung on to that grudge for this long.

“The part that really bugs me is how I’m pretty sure you were right.” You don’t see the way his face contorts into a deep frown. “I’m an overachiever, I get the good grades, I play sports, I cheer, and I’ll be happy to do the college thing, but then what? I get an overpriced degree for what? I have no drive to do anything. I don’t want some boring job, I don’t want to be trapped in a nine to five, I don’t want to be a lawyer, or a doctor, or have any big career goals. It’s sounds nice at first, but the amount of depression that comes with realizing your life is just something you’re good at and not something you love is not for me. I just want to be happy.”  Because that’s definitely not what you’re experiencing right now. No, that’s an existential crisis for you later. Not you now.

There’s no sadness in your voice, why would there be? You’re just stating facts. 

“That doesn’t make you a failure,” He’s crowding closer to you, pulling off his jacket and denim vest to place over your lap. You hadn’t even noticed you were shivering, the thigh highs and leg warmers not enough to keep you warm. “That just makes you human. You don’t have to have your whole life planned out. Plenty of people don’t and stumble onto their thing. Like Ozzy. He dropped out, went through a ton of jobs, and found his calling. I don’t think he was necessarily searching for it, but he found it. One of the world’s greatest fucking rockstars. Wouldn’t have happened if he tried to plan his life out.”

“Or if he hadn’t been traumatized.”

“That, too. The point is, you’re doing just fine. Better than fine actually. Better than anyone else in this shitty town.” 

You finally raise you gaze to meet his and the warmth in his eyes nearly takes your breath away.

You don’t know what to say, you’re on good terms with the former bane of your school hour existence. You give him a small smile. “Thanks, Eddie.”

“You’re welcome. Hey—I have a question.”

“I might have an answer.”

“Where do you get your weed?”

“From you.” You squirm a little, unable to stop yourself from giving up your secrets. 

You know he thinks you’re lying because he’s doing some hardcore scrutinizing, but the small smile stays on his face, “Pretty sure I’d remember selling to you of all people, Sweetheart.” You’re pretty sure that up until your truce, he wouldn’t have sold you anything other than oregano. The glint in his eyes confirms it.

“It’s your stuff. Judy tells me when she’s gonna meet up with you to buy, I give her money, tell her what I want, and you unknowingly sell it to me. It’s not that complex of a plan.”

He groans, leaning forward to hunch over and rest his palms against the table. “You are breaking all the rules, Spitfire! All. The. Fucking. Rules.”

“I wasn’t about to go to Reefer Rick. I don’t think Rick is even his name. These rules I don’t know about suck, Eddie. Which ones did I even break?” You’re curious now, body very much so aware of how close he is. 

You can smell his shampoo, and it pleases you that it’s a surprisingly sweet scent. 

“You,” He begins, shoulders shagging like he’s giving into defeat, despite his coy smile, “were not supposed to be so damn cool. You’re not supposed to be sweet either, or even prettier up close. Pisses me off!” He’s grinning like mad at you now, and you’re beaming right back at him even though you’re not entirely sure what’s going on because you had to have imagined him calling you pretty. 

“And you’re so fucking witty, too. Fuck, like in English today. What’d you say?” He says rather than asks, and you realize he knows exactly what you said. Memorized it, probably, because he quotes you from earlier except in a nasally, high pitched voice that doesn’t sound at all like you. 

“‘You being able to graduate will suffice.’” And you don’t flood with shame, the opposite actually. You warm up inside because something about the grin on his face and the way he’s beaming makes you feel like that had somehow been the right thing to say. “That was so fucking hot. It made me mad.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, tongue peaking out to play with the left corner of your lips. “Wow. Is that all my carefully planned verbal sparring was to you? Foreplay?”

He laughs low, pushing himself up again, this time he moves to linger directly in front of where you sit, but he doesn’t make a move.

Were you missing something?

Was he? Maybe you misread his signs. 

Or maybe you didn’t make yourself clear. 

“You know, I used to kick myself in the ass in elementary school. I got held back in the third grade for not wanting to shake anyone’s hand, which meant you were two whole grades ahead of me, instead of the much more attainable one. I was gutted when I realized I wasn’t gonna be able to go out of my way to see glimpses of you anymore after your eight grade promotion. Then I got to high school and you got really hot, and I got my glimpses back, but you just had to go and like Chrissy—“

“Chrissy? I didn’t like Chrissy like that.” He interrupts you, making your heartbeat pound in your ears. It was one thing to be brave enough to vomit the truth like you were but now you were gonna have to try and make sense of the word vomit, to a guy you know is very aware that you just admitted your attraction to.

“Erin Miller said she overheard a couple of the guys on the football team giving you a hard time about making eyes at a cheerleader you were interested in. ‘Said it was Chrissy.”

“They said it was Chrissy. You were her partner during that little cheer thing you did at the homecoming pep rally. And you had on an eyepatch.” You remembered that, it was when you started trying your hand at softball. You’d gone to the batting cages the weekend before homecoming and came back home with a  black eye that stuck around for a little longer than a month. “They were a little right though, I was definitely making eyes at a cheerleader, just got the wrong one down.”

“Oh. I guess we’re both victims of vast misunderstanding.”

“Guess so.”

He leans down and you lean up to smash your lips together, mouth immediately opening to welcome his tongue when it seeks yours out.

Eddie groans, one hand moving to hold the back of your head and the other moving to rest against your side as he pulls you to the edge of the picnic bench, licking any uncertainty remaining right off your tongue. It’s messy and urgent, but so satisfying given that it’s been years in the making. 

He uses his hold on your head to angle the kiss deeper, there’s no doubt he’s in control. You nip at his bottom lip, causing him to gasp and creating a chance for you to explore his mouth instead.

He tastes mostly like weed, but there’s a hint of something underneath that must be Eddie, and you’re desperate to get a better taste.

Eddie’s moan is absolutely obscene as your tongue rolls over his, his grip on your side loosens so he can move his jacket out of the way and slide his hand down to rest on your thigh. The warmth of his hand on your skin makes you feel intoxicated (even more so) and he gives your thigh a good squeeze before tugging it just over his hip. You can feel him hard, and warm pressed up against your covered core. The bulge prodding at you is larger than you would have allowed yourself to expect from him, it’ll be a stretch for sure. Your terry ring shorts make it easy for his jeans to provide some much needed friction.

“Fuck.” He hisses, breaking the kiss when you grind your hips forward. “Fuck, I really—I want to—“

You can’t help but pout, lips swollen from the thorough job he’d done. “Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming on?”

He leans forward to give you another kiss, this one is sweet but just as passionate. “But, you’re still high. If this is gonna happen, I need it to happen when you’re sober. I need to know you want to do this, You’re just so fucking beautiful and you look so hot in these shorts, and the thigh highs…” He grits out, fingers snaking under them to rest against the warm skin of your thigh, just for a moment, before his hand is retreating. “It’s like all my little fantasies, dirty and not, are coming true. I couldn’t resist. What kind of satanic witchcraft is this?”

You laugh as he presses a long kiss to your forehead, before forcing himself to give you room to hop down. “Just a little something the women in my family have been passing down since Salem. Old recipe, if you will.” 

He watches you, smirking before he pulls you into him again. “You’re making it really hard to to be platonic here. You’re not supposed to have a sense of humor, either.”

“Well, you’re not supposed to be charming. You’re failing to live up to your reputation, not even half as scary as you try to look.” You retort, not eager to leave the warmth of his embrace.

He pulls back to look down at you, intrigued with your statement. “Sweetheart, you thought I was scary?”

“As scary as you thought I was.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to terrify you like that.” It has the desired effect, you laugh and playfully slap his shoulder. 

“Shut up!” Despite the return of your affections for him, the sky is darkening significantly, and your dad is gonna have a heart attack if you’re not home by the time he leaves for his night shift. So, you reluctantly step away, his hands falling back to his sides as you shove your things into your bag.

“I gotta go.”

“I figured as much. Did you drive to school?” He knows you did, he just wants to be able to cover all possible grounds in an attempt to get a couple more minutes with you. He doesn’t care if you’re not gonna fuck.

You feel guilty, completely stupid. You should’ve just made the 45 minute walk to school instead of the 10 minute drive. Selfish. “I did.”

“Damn.”

“What were you doing here, anyways?”

“I’m supposed to meet someone around─” He glances down at his watch. “Now.”

You scoff, but you can feel your cheeks tingle. “And you were still gonna offer to drive me home?”

He shrugs his shoulders, looking irresistible in that hellfire shirt. “I’ve got my priorities straight this time. ‘86, baby. I know what I want.”

And the smoldering look he’s giving you has your kneecaps rattling, you gotta go before you risk it all. “Looks like I was wrong, you’re definitely no hyperbole.”

He lets out a loud laugh as you walk backwards, stomach still warm with affection for the super senior.

“See you around, Eddie.”

“Oh, I hope so.”

You can still feel his eyes on you as you make your way out of the woods, wondering if you’re gonna need to find a new arch-enemy or not.

[adri-2022]

Betrayed

Fandom: Chicago PD

Characters: Jay Halstead x VoightDaughter!Reader / Hank Voight/ Erin Lindsay/ Chicago PD members

Warnings: Swearing/ angst/ cancer related themes/ some fluff

Word count: 2741

Jay Halstead Materlist

A/N: Hi guys here is an original imagine, it's based on Chicago PD Season 3, Episode 10. I hope everyone likes it.

Don't be afraid to leave your comment!

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Like every other day you were feeling exhausted, nauseous and plain out of it. A year ago, you were diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer, this marking a year after you got married to the love of your life -Jay Halstead-. You knew you had a predisposition to cancer, your mom Camille suffered and died from it when you were younger. So, in one of your annual check ups the terrible news came true, your family and friends were afraid you would suffer as your mom did. You were still having treatments monthly, already having taken this month’s chemo session.

It was hard on yourself, of course you were the one going through it, but for Jay. Well let’s say he had to see firsthand your parents history repeating itself. He was always there, for every sickness, through the depression state. He watch as you cried every night while pulling strings of hair from your head, and even after all of the treatments you had received to this day you looked healthy -the only noticeable thing, was the hair falling and the weight loss-.

Turning into your rock just as your dad had done for your mother all those years ago. Nonetheless he always tried his best to bring joy and happiness to you. Making you smile and laugh had turned into his daily goal -and his life promises-. Going home early, always bringing roses and pizza -your favorites-. Making sure you knew you could count on him to pull you back together in times of desperation.

You were currently home waiting for your husband to call you to have lunch together. Having a very weird feeling in your stomach, you went to lay down -its probably side effects- you thought going to bed.

Unknown to you your dad’s whole team was currently at Chicago Med attending a new case relating, victims being brought with chemo overdose. This struck a nerve deep down on everyone, turning to disbelief. Jay felt sick to his stomach by just thinking about you being in that situation.

“This is so fucked up…” Jay said looking around the room, while everyone shook their heads, Hank turning his gaze to the floor.

Just then Natalie Manning entered the room letting them know about another victim brought with the same diagnosis. While looking into the new victims stuff they found out all 4 patients knew each other, what they didn’t expect was the name Antonio said seconds later,

“I got a name. Doctor Dean Reybold” silence.

“What!” Jay said head snapping up at Hank, a terrified look on his face. Erin dropping what she had in her hands in the table, turning to look at Hank and Jay, same look in her eyes -recognition, fear, anger-.

Jay stood up rushing out of the room with Hank, Erin hot in his heels. Pressing the elevator button Jay tried taking deep breaths, nothing was working.

“Hank, Jay…” she said arriving at their side.

“Don’t. Don’t say anything Erin…I- I just wanna go home and see my wife” shaking his head trying to keep his ragging tears at bay. If this was true…

“Right…” Hank said stoic expression on his face -even though that wasn’t what he was going to do-

“Hey, I’m serious you can’t go” “Like hell we can!” Hank turned to look at her just as Alvin appeared behind her,

“No, I’ll go he won’t know who I am. If he’s the one overdosing this women…” “C’mon pal, just you and me…” Alvin tried to reason with Voight. Making Jay scoff, shaking his head, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.

“It been a year since I’ve heard that name” Hank started.

“We know…” Erin responded

“No. You don’t. He was the oncologist to diagnose Y/N’s cancer. He’s been treating her ever since…” Jay said turning to look at Al and Erin his voice breaking at the thought of you being another of his victims. Erin looked surprised she didn’t know you were being treated by Reybold.

“He last treated Camille and he has been treating my daughter too. If he’s the one doing this…” “We’ll get him Hank” Alvin finished making Erin nod. Hank nodded, turning to Jay who looked like he had seen a ghost, eyes red; so, putting a hand on his shoulder,

“Go home. Get Y/N to get checked let’s make sure…” he couldn’t finish the sentence, he just couldn’t. Jay nodded getting into the elevator, now alone bending hands on his knees while releasing his tears. This couldn’t be happening, not to you. From all the people in the world, not to you.

You had woken up from your nap currently in the kitchen having a glass of water and some pills for the nausea when you heard the door open, furrowing your eyebrows confused. Who was it? Jay wasn’t supposed to be home so early, but you were answered as you heard him,

“Honey!” “Kitchen…” then you heard his footsteps, when you saw his face, you knew something was seriously wrong. He rushed towards you picking you up by the waist in a bone crushing hug -what’s going on?- you thought to yourself. He sat you down on the kitchen aisle cupping both your cheeks, before taking a deep breath. Let the nightmare begin…  

You felt numb in the car, you knew you were crying when your tears hit the palm of your hand that was in your lap. You felt like you were floating as you walked hand in hand with Jay towards a treatment room. You sat in the bed feet crossed gaze on the wall, Jay slightly behind you sharing a bit of space on the gurney. You could barely register Jay’s left hand on your back, right hand in you thigh while you waited for the inevitable.

“Jay…Y/N…” your brother-in-law, Will said when he walked trough the door. Jay looked up at his brother’s face, unreadable expression which made him worry even more. He proceeded to give your thigh a squeeze getting your attention, nodding towards his brother the minute you looked at him.

“Will’s here…”

“I don’t think I can hear it…” you said looking at Will, your eyes puffy from the crying. Will nodded taking a sit in the chair next to the bed taking a hold of your hand. -This is it…- you thought.

“Just say it man…” Jay said,

“Test show you’re clear of cancer…” he paused as you and Jay sighed in relieve both closing your eyes, before he continued, “…there’s no trace of any- ever being present in your body…” you sobbed while Jay pulled your back to his chest.

He wrapped his arms around you, closing his eyes tightly trying not to cry. Will could only squeeze your hand, dropping his head. You never had cancer; test showed you were as healthy as they came -of course with the exception of all the side effects from the chemo that you never needed-.

You went back to the district with Jay, he didn’t want to leave you alone, and you didn’t want to be alone. Claiming the stairs to the front desk you were met with Trudy, who immediately rounded her desk to hug you -Jay had called her before arriving- knowing you needed her.

“We’re gonna get this asshole. You hear me, you have my word…” she whispered in your ear while you cling to her, nodding your head. When you pulled away, Jay pulled you back into him, arm over your shoulder while you continued your trip upstairs. Everyone’s attention turned to the both of you, Erin walking up to you hugging you.

“And?” Hank asked hugging and kissing your head. When you didn’t say anything as you went back into Jay’s arms, your dad looked at your husband.

“Test say she never had it…” he said closing his eyes calm voice while putting his cheek on your head. This sentence made everyone gasp silently. You were never ill. You heard your dad scoff before going into his office, Al following. Jay took you to the break room sitting you in the couch before he bend in front of you hand in your cheek, kissing you deeply.

In that kiss you both shared the desperation, the anxiousness, the pain and most important the love. You stayed foreheads together and eyes closed for a moment, until you broke the silence.

“He lied…” you whispered, while your husband caressed your hips,

“I know…” “He said- he said I had cancer” you said looking at Jay pained and betrayed expression. Before standing up and going towards the garage.

“Y/N! Hey- baby talk to me…” he said reaching the bottom of the stairs, making you shake your head while you started to paced back and forth in front of the cage.

“Baby, don’t do that…” “Do what!” you screamed, making him shake his head, then pointing at you.

“That!” he paused before continuing, “Don’t bottle it up! You have to feel it…” he said raising his voice slightly.

“I DON’T WANNA FEEL IT” you screamed at him, tears staring to roll down your cheeks. “FEEL IT Y/N. FEEL IT!” he screamed back, to this you paused chest heaving until you couldn’t anymore, and you started sobbing your heart out.

“He told me he would cure me. He made promises- HE KNEW HE COULD KEEP THEM! I never had this fucking cancer of shit…” you screamed in between sobs, looking at Jay angry look on both your faces.

“Fucking. Shit. Motherfucking. Asshole! I. FUCKING. HATE. HIM!” you continued yelling kicking the door of the cage with every word you said. He was right you needed to feel, you needed to grieve, and you needed to cry or else it would consume you.

During your ‘feeling session’, Jay had taken a sit on a bench nearby, just making sure to keep an eye on you. No one else could hear you from down here, so you screamed, cried and kicked. Jay just continued to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. Averting his gaze when he felt that he would cry too. You were tired, your eyes were swollen, and you barely had any voice left.

Sniffing and taking a shaky breath one last time, you went and sat at Jay’s feet, putting your head in his lap. He put his chin on his hand looking down at you. You heard him sigh before you felt his hand on your hair,

“Better?” he asked, “…better…” he leaned to kiss your cheek.

“I love you. He will pay. I’ll make sure of it…I promise” he said to which you nodded, “I love you too”

“Hey sorry to interrupt…we’re hitting” Erin said looking worriedly at you, without second thought Jay bend down to kiss you before running up the stairs.

Arriving at Reybold office, Erin had found him in a conference room. The minute Jay entered, Reybold smiled sadly at him -Reybold knew who Jay was obviously-. This made Jay give him a dead glare, jaw tensing, before Hank entered.

“Destroying patient documents Doctor Reybold?” Hank rhetorically asked, “I have nothing to hide Hank…” Reybold said calmly.

“You sure?” Jay said taking a step closer to a sitting Reybold. “Wait you three know each other?” Reybold’s lawyer -Miss Green- asked,

“I treated sergeant Voight’s late wife” “That’s not all is it?” Erin asked disgusted look in her face,

“I’m also treating sergeant Voight’s daughter, detective Halstead’s wife…” “Don’t say another word” his lawyer intervened.

“You know who doesn’t destroy patient files- innocent people” Hank continued taking steps towards him.

“Hank, Jay, you know me. I was there with you when Y/N was diagnosed…” “Shut up! Don’t talk about my wife” Jay cut him off finger pointed at him, deadly look in his face.

“Cuff him up” “Gladly!” Jay said while yanking Reybold up from his chair and pulling him out of the conference room.

After that the team tried their best to get some information out of him, but there wasn’t anything useful. They had suggested that you testified but being honest you weren’t near ready to talk about the whole situation. You were feeling wounded and betrayed, both you and Jay saying a big fat no. Miss Shelby -the lawyer taking the case- had advised not to since it could be used to dismiss the case in court giving how personal it was for the unit.

A couple of weeks later now in court, sitting next to your husband his arm around your shoulders pulling towards him, while you had your hand on his knee. Your attention was pulled back when your dad took the stand. The case wasn’t going well, Reybold’s defense was dismissing every evidence intelligence brought, and they couldn’t bring in the victims for some technicality. Every question asked was objected; the team had nothing at this point.

That was until your dad said he had witnessed Reybold administering chemo to your mom.

“I saw Doctor Reybold dose my wife Camille who died of cancer under his care, and my son-in-law has witnessed my daughter Y/N receiving treatment from Reybold…” this made your blood run cold. Jay tightening his grip on you kissing the side of your head. Erin holding onto your hand for support.  

“I’m here. Breath…” Jay whispered in your ear. You blocked the rest of Reybold’s lawyer questions not wanting to remember how your mom was in her last days. This until Miss Shelby stood up again.

“Redirect…what other victims are you referring to Sergeant?” “Objection!” Miss Green objected.

“Miss Green questioned my witness about one prior patient Camille Voight and one current patient Y/N Halstead. Now she opened the door for all 42 patients he treated”

“She’s right overruled” you immediately saw the fail on Miss Green’s face. She knew they had lost the case for good.

“What other victims?” “Helen Graham, Nia Felton, Priya Parvati, Y/N Halstead and 38 other people this doctor diagnosed with cancer they didn’t have and treated with chemo they didn’t need”

“How do you know this?” Miss Shelby asked. “Because Doctor Reybold confessed to personally poisoning 42 patients, ruining their lives, terrifying them and their families, on court under oath…” you looked at your dad teary smile on your face, Jay pecking your head over and over again. While your sister squeezed your hand.

After your dad left the stand, you entered the room your he was in with Jay next to you, Erin finished hugging him. Which you took as opportunity to hug him tightly.

“Thank you…mom would be proud” whispering while he nodded, not showing too much emotion. Everyone knew Hank Voight wasn’t a big emotion showing person.

The jury had declared Doctor Reybold guilty of all charges, and while he shouted to your dad, saying that he had said the truth about your mom’s cancer,

“I would never harm Camille. I was their only hope, they got years because of me. You can’t put someone away for saving lives…” he paused before looking towards you. Making Jay shake his head warningly,

“Shut up…” Jay said serious look while he took a step-in front of you.

“I would never hurt you Y/N, I saved you…” he said, making you step out slightly from behind your husband,

“You’re just a liar and coward. Rot in hell you fucking piece of shit” you said so only he could hear you while he was being dragged away.

Arriving at home, you took your shoes off, about to walk into the living room when Jay pulled you back, cupping your face and kissing you deeply. You wrapped your arms around his neck thumb caressing his neck, pulling back looking at each other. He tapped your waist slightly so you would jump and wrap your legs around his waist, like that he carried you towards the couch. Sitting with you straddling his lap while he smiled when you pocked his nose.

“Thank you, baby…” you whispered looking down at him, which made him confused,

“For what hon?” he caressed your cheek looking deeply into your beautiful eyes.

“For keeping your promise” “Always beautiful” he answered pecking your lips, before you snuggling your head into his neck, his chin on top of your head. In this moment he was exited and grateful that he had the opportunity of a future with you. That you both could live without the paralyzing feeling of uncertainty, that one day you wouldn’t be there anymore.

[17caratssi]

My darling, honey ; Jeon Wonwoo

WARNING ! spicy part ahead (not detailed but still NSFW)

part 2 is here!

'Don't be nervous, don't be nervous' you screamed internally at the naughty thought you bore in mind. You are finally married to Jeon Wonwoo, your mom's friend's son and he was taking a shower in your very own room.

Just 8 years ago, you first met him at the clubhouse. He was a high school senior and five years older than you. It was love at first sight and you couldn't deny how much you yearned for his attention the whole year.

Learned that he has had no girlfriend since ever, you thought about standing no chance of being with him. Then, it became serious when you prayed to God every Sunday without your mom knowing.

After he finished his college entrance exam, you began to fret. He soon will leave the house for university and there must be many pretty girls he will lay eyes upon.

You felt like the probability decreases every passing year and it drove you insane. Until you actually pulled up some bravery and confessed to him.

He rejected you on the first attempt and the heartbreak was tremendous that you emptied 2 bottles of alcohol that night. He had to take you home and into your room. Your mom trusted him since she had seen him growing up before her eyes.

It was then, in your room, Wonwoo discovered your love for him wasn't casual. And little did you know, he had asked you. "Did you really like me?"

Your mind was in a haze and subconsciously you clung around him and whined. "Why you don't like me? I like you, i like you, i like you,"

Wonwoo was feeling overwhelmed by the proclamation. He concealed his bewilderment and pushed you away, saying, "You reek of alcohol," While you really smelled not the nicest, Wonwoo lied you down properly and tucked you in, lest you catch a cold.

Deep down, Wonwoo had no idea why you would like him. He found himself thinking about your love profession and every encounter at the clubhouse made him slightly guilty.

You still pined for him and it seemed like your prayers had been answered the day when Wonwoo asked you out for a drink. It was a friendly invitation and you still enjoyed every second of it.

The happiness on your face softened Wonwoo's heart. He walked you home and before he let you go inside, he halted you. The heavy words he kept throughout the night eventually were voiced out in a single sentence.

"You know I never date a girl and the reason is, I date to marry. So if we were to date then I don't wish it to be a fleeting relationship,"

You knew you were going to be embarrassed by your response but you just had to say it. "What a coincidence, I don't find short-lived relationships intriguing," you sniffed and wiped your tears off. Laughing away, you added, "So are we a couple now?"

And it was a dream come true for you.

You both started dating and it lasted for four months when he bought you a ring to propose on your birthday. Two months engaged and married.

Breaking you out of the reverie, Wonwoo stroked your head and told you to take a shower before going to sleep. It was a tiring day and all you'd been thinking is the deed.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, couldn't bear to touch you since he was worried that you'd be exhausted from the day. He only managed to satisfy his hormonal turbulence by caressing your hair.

That night, after Wonwoo took the glass of milk he brought for you, he hugged you to sleep. "Why are we sleeping? Won't we need to consummate our marriage?" you asked, dead serious.

Wonwoo laughed and kissed your forehead. "You'll worry about it later. Now, sleep because you have a class tomorrow," he softly said. Seeing your irritated expression, he had to cajole before you finally gave in and slept.

People always said the person you love may not be what you expect after wedlock but it wasn't the case for you. Wonwoo may not have the best experience in treating a girl but he sure treats his woman right.

[Honey, don't forget your lunch box. I made your fav so make sure to finish it]

[Honey, I'm out to buy the groceries. Take a nap first after you read this]

[Honey, it's your birthday today. Go celebrate with your friends and tell me if you're done. I'll pick you up]

Wonwoo loves to call you honey and every time, you feel like your heart is about to melt. His gentleness was all you live for and it had you wondering if Wonwoo was ever riled up.

"I don't like roses," you threw the bouquet of roses he surprised you with into his embrace, regretfully. You knew what you did was horrible and unreasonable but you wanted to tease him a bit. You left him in the living room and went to take a shower upstairs.

Wonwoo carried the flowers and hid them from you. He then secretly grabbed his car keys and drove to a florist that is still open. In fact, he just drove around in a rush to buy you a different flower.

On his way home, he received a call from you. His finger glided across the screen and before he got to say anything and apologize, your voice boomed.

"Where are you? Wonwoo, I'm sorry I really am. Where did you go?" a series of sobbing noises sounded along. You were a crying mess and wailed even louder when he ended the call.

Wonwoo couldn't focus on the road if he resumed the call. Without knowing the context, his heart raced. Thousand of God-forbid possible scenes ran in his mind as he drove.

Wonwoo didn't even bother to turn off the engine and when he dashed into the house, he saw your frame on the couch and ran forward. "Why did you call crying? What happened?" his voice trembled as he checked on you. He repeated the questions to get an answer from you. "Honey, did something happen?"

Having noticed you were not going to reply soon, Wonwoo remained silent and held you tightly. You stared out the window and heard the still-running engine outside.

In a low, raspy voice you whispered, "The car.."

Wonwoo was lost for a moment and you had to smack him on his arm to wake him up. "The car, idiot,". Only after that, did the recollection of the flowers in the car dawn on him.

Your face which was filled with concern and tears before turned red at once. Wonwoo lined up various types of flowers in front of you and said, "Today, I realised that I was ignorant. I didn't know what's your favourite flower and bought the one you dislike," He walked up to you and took your hands. Gazing up into your eyes, he continued, "I wish there was a dictionary about you so that I can make you happy all the time," So he disappeared just now because he went to buy me these to compensate?

"Honey, I'm sorry about earlier. Please don't get mad at me because I don't want to sleep alone today,"

Punching his arm lightly, you retorted. "I'm furious as to why you'd go all the way to buy me these," Your tone rose a notch as you spoke. Peeking at the petals on the floor, you warmed inside. It was difficult to suppress a big smile.

Wonwoo felt torn inside and blamed himself. He rubbed your forearms and opened his mouth. "It's because I made a mistake. Honey, I admit that I acted recklessly but I had to since the shops are about to close if I-"

He sounded so lame, unfunny, and deadly sweet that you had to shut him up with your lips. You didn't intend to kiss him like this but listening to him saying all the things to make you the happiest moved you to tears once again.

Wonwoo was surprised but he smiled and returned the kiss just as passionately. He embraced you in his arms and became handsy as he was turned on.

"Where's the roses?"

"I put them in my car since you don't like it,"

"Hm, why did you do that? Are you so in love with me, Jeon Wonwoo?" you chuckled, seeking his lips on yours afterward. Although you asked the obvious, his reply still sent butterflies in your stomach.

"Yeah, I'm so in love with my wife. What should I do?" he grinned and caught your lips. "Honey, I love you,"

While he is a gentleman on daily basis, he isn't the same in bed. Under the blanket, he knew how to please you as usual. You couldn't control your noises and Wonwoo was fond of them.

"S-slow down," you begged. His movement was driven by motivation that is to make you come but today, you wanted to come together. He twisted his hips and roamed his hands all over like he didn't just make you moan louder.

"You like when I go fast, don't you? Should I touch you down here as well?" he groaned in the middle when he felt the grip getting intense. "Honey, are you close? Ugh, keep making noises. You know I like them,"

Your head fell right and left as you contained the urge to orgasm. Struggling to keep your composure, you crossed your legs around his hips and pushed him to lean more. With your fingers all in his hair, you raised your head and whimpered, "Babe, come inside today,"

"No, honey," he tried to drag his trust slower after hearing you say that. It was a temptation but he always worried for you. You were younger than him and both of you never brought up the topic of having a child. Though, he never let it slips his mind and take precautions.

After the exercise, Wonwoo helped you with the after-care. He clothed you and went downstairs to heat up the milk just like he always did. When he entered the room again, you were already tucked in and facing the other side.

Wonwoo thought you were asleep and reached for the bedside lamp to switch it off. As you sensed his hands brushing your skin, you glared at him and swiftly said. "I want to have a child with you,"

Wonwoo's stupefaction was not secreted. He looked at you deeply, making sure he heard correctly.

And it seemed you really meant it. For half of the year, you were having the idea of getting pregnant. It was just you're shy to voice it to him and hinted at him every time.

"And condoms didn't feel nice so don't wear them next time," you added with bash.

"But honey," he must want to discuss about it and it will, ultimately, evolve around you.

Why is he always so anxious when it comes to me?

Cutting him off, you excused yourself. "I'm sleepy, goodnight,"

"Honey, don't sleep yet," his first call didn't succeed and he wanted your attention on the second try. So he called by your name which he hasn't used since you two decided on endearments.

You pulled harder on the edge of the blanket and pretended to not hear. "Y/N," he pressed again.

"Okay, we'll have a child but-"

"Really?" excited, you jumped to sit on the bed and waited for him. Seeing how exhilarated you turned, the dwelling worries within him pacified. He flashed a tender smile and nodded. "Yes, but we'll have to go to see the doctor first. Let's see if it's a suitable time for you to bear a child. Understand?" he can't take a risk.

"I know my body!"

Wonwoo sighed, feeling defeated by his lovely wife. "But I won't feel at ease. What if your body is too young to be pregnant?" he commented. "Honey, to be honest, I don't want to have a child just yet. I want to spend more time with you and let's wait for another year, shall we?"

Pouting, you averted your gaze as you responded. "But I want to have your baby. Darling, please?" your honey-rendered voice was magical.

Man, you always have the damnest thing to say and it worked most of the time.

Wonwoo looked down and cursed to himself. He was aroused by your request and you're delighted by such a reaction. "Your body below is so honest. I have my answer now so I'm going to sleep," your brightened features closing up the conversation. You cupped his face and presented him with a peck. "Mwah! Love you, the father of my children,"

Maybe, planning a child isn't so bad after all.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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