#like he just signed divorce papers following a panic attack i feel like we got lost somewhere lol

[suddenrundown]

im watching ted lasso and ted sleeping with rebecca’s friend completely floored me. like, how’d we get here.

[nocturne-pisces]

Title: Get A Load Of This Trainwreck

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Rating: PG-13 for language, minor violence, suicidal ideation.

WC: 1.9k

Summary: You’re just a receptionist. You can’t save the world.

AN: This was inspired by a couple lines in a Cavetown song. Any notes would be appreciated. I take drabble requests, I specifically work well with the kind of whumpage like what I’ve written here. Special thanks to @frnkensteingrl​ for giving me the extra push and giving me an audience.

______________________________________________________________

You felt the pad of Bucky’s thumb trace over your knuckles as he drove. 

“I’m thinking after things-” he cleared his throat, figuring out how to phrase what was going on between them”-uh...get better. We should take a vacation. Anywhere.” 

The words echoed in your ears, registering as sounds in the English lexicon, but not really absorbing them. You’d barely spoken in the last couple weeks. Barely eaten. Barely slept.

You spent most of your time sitting on the floor of your bathtub letting your tears mix with the water. The drops of water drummed against your ribcage. Hollow and empty. 

“Okay,” you answered, voice cracking from underuse. He looked over and offered a genuine smile, happy that he got to hear the sound of your voice. 

A sigh raked its way through your chest as you pulled into the parking lot for Dr. Raynor’s office. Bucky had finally convinced you to go to couples therapy when you’d called him James one too many times. You were only three weeks deep. Bucky did all the talking,  you mostly stared out the window, just sitting there to appease him. 

The problem wasn’t him. The problem was you. You took a leave of absence from work for a few weeks, and it had given you the time to truly dwell on all of the things that were wrong with you. 

You sat on one end of the hideous gray Ikea couch and Bucky sat on the other, making himself comfortable while you just figured out a way to make yourself small. 

Dr. Raynor made you feel naked, like she saw through you. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line as she looked from Bucky to you. 

“How was last week?” She asked, swinging her notebook open and jotting down notes as Bucky began. 

“I think we’re doing better. She still barely speaks, but I convinced her to go out to a local pizza joint last Friday night.”

Thinking about leaving your apartment building last Friday night made your empty stomach lurch. Your friend had sent you the headline as soon as it was posted ‘MRS. WINTER SOLDIER LOOKING WORSE FOR WEAR.’ The picture attached was one of you where you looked particularly washed out, the bags under your eyes practically fucking glowing while you hugged your cardigan close to your frame. 

“And what about you, Y/N? How do you think last week went?” Dr. Raynor asked.

“Fine,” you answered, pulling your cardigan closed around you again now. 

Bucky’s leg was starting to bounce, he did that when he was irritated or under duress. You could feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, a tell tale sign that a storm was about to roll in. You swallowed hard.

Bucky’s thin patience snapped and his head whipped around to stare at you lightning fast. “Why wont you work on this like I’m working on this?” he thundered. You startled, your body going rigid as Bucky’s tone rolled over you in waves. He might as well have stabbed you in the stomach and twisted the blade. He rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the panic rising in his chest. The love of his life had been slipping away from him for months and he didn’t know why.

“There’s nothing you need to work on,” you offered meekly. You just wanted to deal with it on your own, compartmentalize and get over it so you could go back to being The Winter Soldier’s Perfect Wife.

“I know, I know. It’s not a me thing, it’s a you thing, but you’re not getting better and I can’t help unless you tell me what’s going on.” His voice started to falter, like he was about to fall and he was grabbing onto anything that would keep him from the drop. “Please, baby, please…” he took your hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing it. 

Though you didn’t turn to him, you closed your eyes as you drown yourself in his concern, the sob getting lost behind your ribcage while you wondered what he’d ever seen in you. The tears flowed anyways, falling off of your face and onto your sweater. When you didn’t respond to his touch, he let you have your hand back, keeping his body angled towards you. 

“Y/N, you have to let other people in if you expect to get better,” Dr. Raynor said. 

Your body felt like it was compressed too tight, like an aerosol can in a hydraulic press. Just a couple more pounds of pressure and…

“Do you want a divorce?” It was barely a whisper on your right side. You turned your head to see Bucky eye locked pointedly on his hands, eyes red and glossy while he twisted the wedding band on his ring finger. 

Your jaw dropped as your breathing became ragged. No. Absolutely not, you didn’t want a divorce. You only loved him. You only wanted him. How were you supposed to explain that you didn’t understand why he didn’t want a divorce. 

At the sound of your breaths he looked up. Bucky’s eyes went wide watching you hyperventilate. He could see the fear in your eyes as you tried to hold on to the reality around you. 

“Baby it’s just a panic attack, breathe with me,” he said, moving to crouch in front of you. 

Dr. Raynor got up from her chair and walked over to stand next to where Bucky sat.

“Deep breaths, Y/N,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder. 

There were too many people too close to you and it was too much to handle. You felt yourself fill your lungs with air before letting out an ear splitting, blood curdling scream. You screamed until you had no air left, and then you took a breath and sobbed. 

You fisted Bucky’s shirt and shook him, rage and venom lacing your voice. 

“Ever since Steve died you’ve been America’s fucking golden boy. Your fucking redemption arch is Oscar worthy. Take a look at this monster! He doesn’t know how to communicate, everyone just give him a little bit of space! 

“And then there’s me. Little ole me. Too fat. Too skinny. Wears too much makeup. Doesn’t wear enough makeup. What is that dress? Does she own anything other than sweaters. Who designed the bags under her fucking eyes what a GODDAMNED TRAINWRECK.”

It was all pouring out of you and you couldn’t stop it. Everything you’d bottled up for Bucky’s sake since the funeral. Everything you’d tried to deal with on your own. 

Bucky was reeling. It was like someone had flipped a switch in his head and he was coming to understand everything.

“I’m just a fucking receptionist. Yes, my husband is the Winter Soldier-” you mocked, looking over at your pretend patient from your pretend desk “- He's doing so well recently. Can I schedule your fuCKING FOLLOW UP APPOINTMENT?”

You reached back and swung down into Bucky’s left arm, wanting to take your anger and frustration out on something, anything. Needing the release of catharsis, the release of pain. Bucky didn’t even flinch, he felt like he deserved it after having been this fucking oblivious for so long. When your fist connected you felt a crunch in your wrist and your face contorted as you let out a strangled cry. Bucky jumped and reached for your hand but you jerked it away from him, tears still running down your face.  

Dr. Raynor’s eyes were wide, looking to Bucky to see if she needed to call an ambulance, or a local psych ward. Maybe an exorcist? Buck just shook his head. This is the breakthrough they’d been praying for for months now, you just needed time to work through it. 

“I’m just a fucking receptionist. I can’t save the world,” you cried, cradling your busted hand to your chest. Your chest felt like it was fracturing and falling in on itself and in just a second the couch was going to swallow you up into the endless black.

You looked up at him finally, tear tracks standing out against your skin, your hand starting to swell. “Why do you love me when I’m so useless?” 

At that moment, Bucky would rather have sat in the chair for another 70 years than hear the pain in your voice. 

His own tears finally crested and tracked down his face, his nose burning and his throat dry. He set his forehead down on your knees, holding onto your calves for dear life. 

Bucky could remember every cup of tea, every tissue you’d used to wipe his tears, every time you’d woken him from a nightmare, every time you’d slept on the floor with him, every time you stitched him up so he didn’t have to deal with a hospital, every time you got the groceries by yourself because he’d broken down in the shakes in the middle of the paper goods aisle, every time you’d remembered to grab his favorite cookies, every time you waved off him being on a mission during a birthday or an anniversary. 

Bucky could remember every time you’d sacrificed yourself for him, but couldn’t remember the last goddamn time they had an in-depth conversation about you. 

It felt like someone had slapped him in the face. Fuck, you should have slapped him the face.

“I am so fucking sorry,” Bucky said, his voice cracking as he looked up into your face. 

“I’m not special, I don’t-” you started, but he cut you off. 

“You are special,” he pleaded, taking the hand you weren’t cradling against your chest in both of his, “Goddamn does it take a super kind of woman to put up with my bullshit, and you do it all without breakin’ a sweat.” 

“James, I--”

“You really gotta cut that James shit, you only call me that when you’re mad at me. Are you mad at me?”

That earned a broken chuckle from you, he wasn’t wrong. 

“No, Buck, I’m not mad at you. I just wish I was more. That I did more. Maybe if I saved a planet-”

Buck cut you off again, shaking his head. 

“Baby, you save my world every time you make brownies,” he breathed, meeting your eyes. 

It felt like the world finally rolled off your shoulders. You felt so incredibly stupid and relieved at the same time. 

Bucky wasn’t done, “no one behind a camera or writing for a blog or a newspaper or whatever the fuck they have in the impulse aisles at the grocery store can tell me all the superpowers that my wife has.”

“Oh god, I know, I’m so stupid,” tears started to spring forward again as you leaned forward into Bucky’s shoulder. 

“You’re not stupid, baby, no, but I just might be the world’s oldest idiot,” he replied, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I had no idea it was affecting you like this. I am so sorry I haven’t been paying attention.” He took your face in his hands and blotted away a couple stray tears with his thumb, leaning in to lay a long, loving kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry I let it get this bad without saying anything,” you croaked back.

Dr. Raynor cleared her throat, trying to get everyone’s attention. 

“I am so glad we have made so much progress today, but Y/N’s hand is turning purple,” she said, pointing at the hand laid against your chest. Your wrist throbbed something awful, like you’d just remembered you’d been in pain to begin with.

“Oh fuck, right, I’m sorry,” you bit back more tears, this time from physical pain. 

“Shit doll, let's get you to a hospital,” Bucky said, helping you stand and ushering you out the door. 

“Next week, same time. We’ll do another check in,” Dr. Raynor called after you. 

Maybe tomorrow, in your pain killer haze, you could look at gated communities to move to.

[kinktae]

Dear 2018,

warning: up ahead is a long ass post with mentions of anxiety, depression, infidelity, death, very specific events that might seem silly to you but really fucked me up, optimism, and copious amounts of personification.

You were cruel.

My dad gave my dog away without telling me and while I took a nap of all things for reasons that made no sense at the moment but would soon reveal themselves as the year unfolded. My dog was my best friend and longtime confidant. I was the annoying dog owner who snapchatting their dog every day. He was my first hug when I had a bad day and my last goodnight every night as I headed off to bed. I don’t know where he is now because my father won’t tell me but 2018, you left me so incredibly hurt by my parents that I couldn’t bring myself to speak to them for two weeks.

But I learned to cope.

In the days that followed, I wrote a 20k long story. I was crying and sad and didn’t know what else to do. I spent three days writing that story, sleeping on the couch because I didn’t want to walk into my room only to see that my dog wasn’t waiting by my bed. A story I wrote could never replace seven years of companionship but it gave me something tangible to hold onto when I found myself unable to turn to my family. Camellia, the story, holds a special place in my heart because it isn’t often that from such sadness tumbles out a love story.

You were cruel.

2018 took the life of the boy I have admired and blushed over since I was eleven. He was the kind of kid who had every reason to be an asshole with how good looking and widely popular he was but... he wasn’t. He was polite and genuinely smart and loved basketball. I mean loved it. It was funny back then but in my senior year when we were asked to write poems, he chose to write it about his basketball and his team. We all cheered him on at the end of it as he slipped back into his seat in the back, a happy grin on his face. I remember how hot my face got when he let me interview him for a school project and how nice he was to me because he knew I was nervous. When I graduated, he was the one person that I was looking forward to seeing at our high school reunion. I wanted to know where he’d end up in life. I never thought that his life would come to an end.

So I took some time to reflect.

I left Tumblr for quite a bit. It’s a hard thing to understand when someone so young dies suddenly and needlessly. It was larger than just my feelings. It was as if my entire town fell silent. 2018, you left behind his family and an entire community in pain and mourning. He was not mine to mourn as a lover nor really as a friend but I mourned him as a long time classmate who put far greater good into the world than he ever did bad. I hurt for his family, his girlfriend, his friends— my friends —who knew him well and will never get closure or answers to his death because there are none. I hope heaven has a basketball court.

You were cruel.

One of your Saturday nights was when my mom walked by our guest bedroom and overheard her husband on the phone with his girlfriend of a year. It was the reason why my dad got rid of my dog and was trying so desperately to sell our house. He was trying to move us into an apartment just so that he could leave my mom and me in it. He stood in front of my mom silently as she broke down two days later and told him that she knew about his girlfriend. I knew his girlfriend, I had been to her house; she had 3 kids and a husband. My dad left my family for another family, for another country, and as much as that hurt, nothing hurt more than holding my crying mother in my arms every night because she came to the United States alone and I was all she had now. My father took everything in the house, leaving us with one bed and a couch. He said he would take care of us but the fact that he took two beds when he only needed one should’ve been a warning sign enough. He cut my mother’s salary and belittles her at work. He keeps coming over to our house and making my mother cry. He never gave her space to heal and still isn’t. I had to make nice though because he was always the provider and I relied on him financially. He cut my brother from his will and my mother feared he’d do the same to me.

But my family understood.

I thought with my father living elsewhere, I wouldn’t see my family anymore. He was the one who always drove me down to every family gathering, and now I could hardly look him in the eyes. To my surprise, even though he was very much the head of my family, they all reach out to me and my mother, offering their condolences. It was nice to know that I wasn’t a terrible daughter for not wanting to see my father, it was nice knowing his family understood. He was a great provider but cruel, emotionally detached parent and I struggled with the guilt of not mourning his absence in the house. My family helped me realize that my priority should be myself and my mother and I am so grateful for them.

You were cruel.

You were anxiety. Crippling, unimaginable anxiety. You were a panic attack one Monday morning alone in my house as I realized how empty but suffocating my home had become. 2018 was sitting down in class, only to rush out the moment I realized I had forgotten another assignment, crying in the school bathrooms because I knew I was falling behind. I pretended like everything was fine. I didn’t ask for help. I was ashamed to. My mother didn’t have friends because of the type of person my father was and she needed one. So I became her friend, despite the fact that I am just a daughter. I comforted and listened to her. I read her divorce papers for her because my English was better than hers and I knew my father was going to try and fuck her over. My mother was behind every happy memory I had so I owed her this much. Eventually, I just stopped going to school, too anxious to even leave my neighborhood. I would wave my mother goodbye and hop into my car like I was off to university but really I just park somewhere in my neighborhood and hated myself. God how I hated myself.

But my friends were kind.

Early on in the year, 2018 brought me, friends. Friends that would last throughout the year despite the fact that I pushed them away and isolated myself. People like @httpjeon, who would become my number one confidant and best fucking friend along with @introseesaw @junqkook, who never questioned why I had to leave the group chat and disappear for days. People like @timeline-comics, who is so patient and understanding and inspires me. People like @kittae @gukyi @jeongukk who probably didn’t know how much just talking to them made me feel sane and safe. As much as 2018 took away, it also gave me such wonderful people when I needed them the most and I am grateful beyond words. Even when my mother was in the midst of heartbreak, divorce and reliving childhood trauma, she still eventually found me, as most mothers do when they’re children become lost. She offered me love and support like she has done with every breath she has ever taken and told me it was okay to ask for help. I wasn’t invincible, no one was. It was only with others that we could grow stronger.

You were cruel.

I did poorly this semester. I knew I would. But it was severe enough that my university noticed and suspended me from the upcoming term. They told me to come back in the summer and offered me the number to their counseling services. My father didn’t understand how this could have happened, or maybe he didn’t want to understand, so he cut me off financially and called me names that I’m still trying to convince myself aren’t true.

But I had you all.

In the worst year of my life, 2018 brought me a community of people who love and support my work despite how flaky I am putting it out. It brought me a platform where I can express myself creatively and unapologetically. 2018 brought me you guys, my readers— my people. It brought me anons who made my entire day in 200 words or less. It brought me people who reblogged my posts with funny tags that, as corny as it sounds, made the world feel less heavy, even if it was just for a moment. I know that you guys are a blessing. This blog is one of the best things that’s happened to me. It’s my happy place and I am so beyond grateful for you all.

And finally. There is one thing left to say.

2018, I forgive you.

You were cruel, confusing and painful and as much as you set me back, I am going to use you to propel me forward in 2019. It was in your darkness that I realized just how wonderful every speck of light truly feels. Because of you, I am going to fight for happiness and work on loving myself again as BTS has been telling me to do all year because you have given me a reason to finally need to more than ever.

Dear 2019,

Treat me gently. Greet me with kindness. Because if you don’t, I will bend you to my will because, dammit, I deserve happiness. I deserve comfort. I deserve 2019. I will get a job and maintain myself. I will attend counseling and work on fixing myself. I will love myself loudly and write until my fucking fingers fall off. I will go back to school in summer and look forward to learning because it’s what I love; I know now more than ever that it’s a privilege to get to go to school. I will ask for help when I need it and offer it when it’s needed. And I will never stop supporting those who supported me in 2018.

To those who were also hurt by 2018, just know that you walk into the new year cautiously right alongside me and it’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to heal. It’s okay to prioritize yourself. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to not be okay. Because even today is cruel, there is always a chance that tomorrow will be kind and that’s a chance worth fighting for.

Sincerely, Rose 🌹

[lilacmoon83]

All I Want For Christmas is You

@charmingfamilyholidays 

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 6: The Christmas I Almost Lost You, Pt 2

Roni drove them through the city and into the ritzy neighborhood where Snow had grown up. Most would think that growing up as practically a princess that she would be stuck up and bratty. But Roni, though she never met the woman, knew that Snow's mother Eva had instilled certain values in her. She made sure Snow knew that, just because they had money, didn't mean she was better than anyone else. Roni wasn't sure how Eva had managed to get involved with a terrible man like Leopold, but then her mother had some not so great stories about the other woman.

Apparently, those values that Eva had instilled in Snow had been learned late in life for Eva. Snow's mother came from money too and had once been unkind to Cora, long ago. Cora didn't come from money, but worked as a caterer when she was younger, often catering many of the ritzy parties in this social landscape. It had made her bitter and determined to marry for money, rather than love.

Roni's father had come from money as well, but had been a nice man, albeit weak and easy for her mother to bully. Then when Eva died, when Snow was only ten, Cora had moved in on Leopold and the former had wasted little time in remarrying. They were perfect for each other, even if she loathed them both. Evil belonged with evil, after all. But growing up under Cora's thumb had been hell for Roni and even though she was grown, she stayed in the house during Snow's formative years to protect her from most of her mother's insanity. Then the minute Snow was old enough, Roni helped her get emancipated from her father and the rest of was history.

So driving them back to this house drudged up terrible memories for both of them. They were both terrified for the men they loved. She knew Leopold and he wouldn't hesitate to order them to be killed. Snow was shaking and she knew that part of that was because she knew her father might kill her husband. But the other part of that was just being in the same room as this man. She knew what Leopold Blanchard had tried to do one night when she was only twelve and had Roni not been in the house, he may have gotten the job done. That's where their friend Lance had come in. She had hired him to guard Snow's door in their wing at night with money from the trust fund her father left her. And Leopold had never been able to buy Lance, much to his chagrin. So going back to this place was probably causing her sister more anxiety than she had felt in a very long time. She knew the only reason Snow probably wasn't having a panic attack was that she knew that wouldn't help David and Rogers. So Roni did the only thing she could in that moment to help her and reached over to squeeze her hand. Snow squeezed back and a tear slipped down her cheek, just as they pulled up to the house. Their car was instantly surrounded and they were led inside by Leopold's thugs.

~*~

David's head snapped to the side, as Arthur punched him again.

"Easy Arthur...it is Christmas, after all," Leopold chided, as he poured himself a glass of expensive scotch.

"I'm never going to let you hurt her," David warned.

"You won't be able to stop me from doing anything, Detective Nolan. My Mary belongs by my side and you will no longer be a problem after today," Leopold replied.

"She is not your Mary, you sick bastard. I know what you tried to do to her," he growled.

"She's my wife and the mother of our daughter. And I will never let you take her away from Emma," he added.

"That's where you are wrong, Detective. After today, all my enemies will be vanquished and Mary will take her rightful place at my side," he said.

"Like hell I will," she growled, as she and Roni were dragged into the room.

"Snow…" David uttered.

"Well...at long last, you have come home, my dear Mary," he said.

"Only long enough to save my husband and our friend from you," she replied. Leopold chuckled.

"Oh, I'm afraid not, my dear, for the only way to save your beloved husband is for you to sign these divorce papers and never see him again," he countered. Her face fell and Arthur smirked, as he put a gun to David's head. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she began to cry, as she faced losing him.

"Why are you doing this? You're supposed to be my father...you're supposed to want me to be happy," Snow shouted at him.

"There was a time I did...but then you betrayed me. You refuse to fulfill the life that I have designed for you and defied me. I wanted you to go to business school so you could join me in the family business. But what do you do? You get a degree in education so you can teach snot nosed brats," he spat.

"Then you marry beneath your station and become a whore this peasant," Leopold spat at David. The blonde growled and struggled with his bonds, but Arthur put him in a headlock.

"If that was not bad enough, this Detective constantly interferes in my operations and tries to put me in jail," he added.

"Because you're a monster and a criminal! And my husband is a good man...a wonderful man that loves me and our daughter. He would never hurt me the way you have," she growled back.

"Then save his life...and sign these papers. Then I will allow him to take the brat and leave with the proviso that he never return to this city," Leopold stated, as he handed her a pen. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she took it from him.

"Or you can continue to defy me and Arthur will happily put a bullet in his pretty head," Leopold added, as Snow's shoulders racked with sobs.

"How about a third option?" a voice said, as Weaver entered the room.

"What is this?" Leopold growled.

"You thought you were setting my detectives up by getting them to follow Arthur, whom you instructed to lure them here. I knew they would follow, so I decided to create my own set up. Earlier today...I had this entire room wired. It's all on tape and there is no way this evidence can be refuted, even if you try to buy another Judge," Weaver stated.

"That was the big interrogation you had going today?" Rogers asked. Weaver shrugged.

"I had to make sure everything went down just as it did to make sure the charges would stick," he replied.

"The charges won't stick if none of you are around to testify," Arthur growled, as he pointed his gun at Weaver, but the detective was faster and put a bullet between Arthur's eyes. Snow cried out, but then hurried over and untied her husband. Roni did the same, as uniformed officers swarmed in to secure the scenes. All Leopold's thugs were arrested and Weaver cuffed Leopold himself, before hauling him away.

Snow sniffed, as he pillowed her against his chest, while they walked out toward the car.

"I almost lost you," she cried, as they stood outside the car.

"I know...and I'm so sorry I scared you. But we got him...and he's never going to hurt us or anyone else ever again," he promised and there was relief on her face at that. She tugged him by the collar and kissed him passionately.

"Let's go home to our baby," he said, as they got in the car and left the crime scene behind.

~*~

A few hours later, they had managed to calm down and came down from the loft with Emma to enjoy Christmas Eve. They weren't going to let her father's evil destroy this night and Roni ladled out some of her homemade eggnog for them.

"Thanks," Snow said, as she hugged her sister, thanking her for more than just the eggnog.

"We're family...and no one is tearing us apart," she promised, just as Weaver came in. He picked Gideon up, as he ran to him and Lacey greeted him with a kiss.

"Well?" David asked.

"The Judge revoked bail. He'll be remanded to prison until the trial after the first of the year," Weaver announced and they all breathed in relief. David took her hand and led her to their spot in the bar where the mistletoe hung above them, as he held Emma. She gazed up at him with love in her eyes.

"Just a few hours ago...I was afraid that we'd never have this moment again. That'd I'd never hold your or Emma again...I almost lost you and I never want to feel that again," she said tearfully. He gently cupped her face and kissed her tenderly.

"And I'm going to try my best to make sure you never do, my darling. I love you so you much," he said, as he kissed her again and Emma cooed between them. Snow smiled.

"I love you too. Merry Christmas, my love," she said. He smiled.

"Happy Anniversary, my beautiful Snow," he replied, as they held each other and their baby, enjoying yet another Christmas with their family and perhaps being more grateful than ever before...

[safestplace]

pacing in my kitchen, pacing in my bedroom, pacing in the front lawn, but i’m moving to the porch soon.

i don’t like having feelings.

observant, right?  very on the nose.  very descriptive.  not vague at all.  just straight to the point.  i don’t like having feelings.

i don’t get them a lot, which is good, because whenever i get them, they settle up inside me, and then they attack like angry hornets masquerading as butterflies.  and i hate it.

it’s only happened once before, i guess, and that was with my old boyfriend, nate, and that entire relationship was complete and utter chaos, a bomb that blew up in my face before i’d even realized i’d hit the detonator.  it was over nearly as soon as it started, but the feelings had lingered, and lingered, and lingered, until i was stalking him on social media every day on secondary accounts i’d made since i’d blocked him on all of my primaries.

i shouldn’t get crushes on people, because it doesn’t work in my favor.  i either feel everything or nothing.  and for nate, i thought it was everything.

but right now, from where i’m sitting in a lukewarm pool of water, staring up at the mosaic glass tiles surrounding me, phone gripped in my hand so tight that my knuckles are turning the same color as my bathtub, i’m beginning to wonder if that had been nothing.

because this feels like everything.

this feels like poison entering my body.  this feels like every bad thought i’ve ever had all boiling to a head at once.  this is reality and it’s staring right at me on my fucking phone screen.

preston raimi is in a relationship with cait o’mara.  72 likes.  19 comments.

what did i do?  what did i do?  how did i do this?  why do i care?

how fucking dare she?

everything is spiraling back at me.  preston’s and my argument from last night, how smug cait had sounded (even though it was probably just in my head, because she’s a good person, and she’s not smug, and there’s nothing wrong with her but there’s everything wrong with me) when she told me the big news.

i’d begged him to kiss me, i’d begged him to take me home and fuck me and choose me and he’d said he couldn’t.  “cait…” is what he had murmured with his mouth against mine, and he’d pushed me off, and he’d shaken his head.

“fuck cait,” i’d spat back.  “and fuck you, are you serious?”

it just got uglier from there.  i don’t think any amount of alcohol will erase it.

i’m bleary-eyed when i see preston’s mom congratulating them, dropping my phone to the side of the tub and letting myself sink underwater.

it’s my bathtub and i’ll drown if i want to.

except i don’t drown.  i have to come up for air, and i have to think about the fact that preston has a girlfriend now.  an actual girlfriend.  and it’s cait.  perfect fucking cait with her hair and her accent and her pretentious taste in music and movies and her trilingual bullshit.  cait, who’s had a crush on him for years, as she told me, but never acted on it because of me.

because of me.

because she thought he was mine until she realized that he wasn’t.

but he is.

of course he is.

he’s mine.  preston raimi belongs to me whether he wants to or not.

doesn’t he?

am i crazy?

i’m crazy, aren’t i?

i’m like a main character from a fucking lifetime movie.  that’s why i’m the one who gets dumped.

i slink myself out of the tub, pitifully so, and burrow myself into a bathrobe i stole from a hotel a few years back.  it isn’t even that soft, i think i just liked the idea of taking something that wasn’t mine.

(sensing a pattern, right?)

i wrap my hair up in a towel and put on some music to drown out my thoughts.  i move from the bathroom to my bed, sitting on the edge, not looking at my phone.

i will look anywhere but my phone.

the door opens, just a crack, and kat pops her head in.  “just wanted to make sure you weren’t dead.”

“not dead.”  yet.

“good.”

she hovers, headphones slung around her neck like a cashmere scarf before she lets herself in the rest of the way.  “cait’s not that hot, you know.”

my heart lurches all the way down to the pit of  my stomach.  i mean, she’s right.  but that’s not the point.  i don’t bother giving her a response to it, some big speech about how preston isn’t the type to care about something like that, even if he isn’t and i know he isn’t and he never has been.  it’s not something i’ve ever had to worry about, haven’t even had to think about, because i’ve always just been concerned with how he thinks and feels and cares about me.

and now i don’t even know the answer to that.

i want to say that i miss him.  i want to say that everything was my fault.  that i did this.  that i’m my own wrecking ball.  but instead, i just pull my knees up to my chest, and i rest my chin there, and i close my eyes, and i wish to be anywhere but here on any day but today.

“are you sure i’m not squishing you?” he was laughing above me, peering down and grinning that stupid shit-eating smile he always gave me.  i was combing my fingers through his hair, partly out of habit, and partly to pull his face that much closer to me.  i kissed him square on the mouth, grinning against his lips.

“you might be, but don’t you dare move.”

preston felt perfectly comfortable from where he was laying situated on top of me, his body much longer, limbs hanging off my narrow twin-sized bed.  i didn’t last in the dorm rooms very long, and there was even a period of time where the two of us debated if we should just move in together, but we realized that would likely result in a murder-suicide or us missing literally all of our classes due to — eh hem — extra curricular activities, so for the time being, we were both sucking it up and sticking it out in the dorms.

“how’s your roommate?” he spoke into my neck, and i tugged him back up so i could kiss him one more time, hooking my leg around his waist.

“scottish.  british.  irish.  one of ‘em.”  i didn’t care right then.  i cared about the fact that he tasted like the red hots he’d stolen from my bag earlier and how the cinnamon lingered on my tongue each time he kissed me a little deeper.

“hot.”

“want me to invite her over?”

“you should invite the dude across the hall while you’re at it.  the one that thinks he’s the next dave grohl.”

“god with the fucking goatee?  how did you know what i’m into?”

our conversation trails off, words replaced with kisses and sighs, hands working to remove pieces of clothing until we’re sliding under the covers.

but before anything can happen, his phone is going off once, twice, three times.  it’s his sister, i can tell by the ringtone, and i bat my hand around on my nightstand for his phone before shoving it into the palm of his hand.  priscilla wouldn’t call him if it wasn’t important, and i do know that even if i don’t know much else.

“kinda super busy,” he’s grumbling, but then he’s sitting up, hovering his body above me in a plank, and i’m tracing invisible lines on his skin with my fingertips.  “what do you mean?  again?”  his face is wavering, but not the way it used to when he’d get this sort of call — the “mom and dad are fighting again” call.  it used to crumple into a sort of panic, but now he just looked tired, exhausted.  because he was used to it.  he didn’t blame himself anymore, the way he once did.

“did they say it was for real this time?”  a beat.  “he got an apartment?”

i sink lower into the mattress, half-expecting him to get up off the bed, but he just follows me down, laying on top of me like a weighted blanket — sinking onto me.

they hung up after that, and for a while, we didn’t say anything.  “family fucking sucks,” he finally mutters into the hollow of my shoulder.

i agreed with him, but i didn’t say as much.  instead, i just pulled him enough that i could look at him, and i put my hands onto his cheeks.  i rested my forehead to his.  “you know i’ll always be your family, right?” i whispered.  i kissed the tip of his nose, and i kissed the space between his brows.

“i know.”  his cheeks were flushed red.  his pulse thrummed from where his wrist was pressed against my ribcage.  softly, he echoed it just one more time.  “i know.”

i wonder if cait knows about the spot behind his ear that makes his voice shake.  i wonder if she knows how much he hates birds, to the point that you can’t even joke with him about it.

i wonder if she knows that when his parents signed the divorce papers, he slept in my bed for three weeks straight and we didn’t fuck once.

i wonder if she knows that i’m his family.  and that i’ll always be his family.

i wonder if she knows that he’s mine, too.

[stratus-skye07]

Married To The Boss [Twelve] | Rap Monster

After a scary turn of events, things only seem to get worse for Y/N and is forced to make a decision for the sake of Namjoon's future.

[Masterlist]

I can finally catch my breath again. The pins and needles feeling in my skin has disappeared. My vision is coming back once I open my eyes. The bright lights in the room make it harder to keep my eyes open.

“Y/N,” I feel a warm squeeze on my hand.

“Namjoon?” I look at the figure at my bedside.

“Yeah, I’m here. How are you feeling?”

I start to remember how I ended up in this spot when I see a slight bruise on my wrist, “Where’s my mom?”

“The police caught up to her and arrested her. You don’t have to worry about her right now. We just have to get you home now.”

Just then Jimin walks in with a look of relief on his face, “Oh you’re awake.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“I wasn’t as scared as you were but don’t worry about it. It’s not the first time I’ve had to deal with your panic attacks. It may be the last since Namjoon’s gonna have to deal with them from now on.”

“So does this mean you trust me?” Namjoon asks.

“You’re her husband aren’t you?”

I feel touched at how they seem to be bonding over my anxiety disorder. Namjoon rises from his chair to approach Jimin, “Can we talk for a minute while Y/N gets herself together."

“Sure,” Jimin gives me a hug before leaving with Namjoon out into the hallway.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. One of the doctors enters the room with my chart in hand.

“How are you feeling, Mrs. Kim?”

“Fine, now that I’m calm.”

He gives me a warm doctor smile, “That’s good to hear. I just wanted to make sure that you aren’t having any other complications with the baby.”

“Baby? There must be some sort of mistake but I’m not expecting.”

The doctor looks through his chart, “We took tests when you first arrived including a blood sample that we applied to a pregnancy test which came out positive. Along with further testing, it seems you are four weeks along.”

I’m pregnant?

My breathing starts to act up again, “Mrs. Kim, I understand that this is sudden news but you have to keep yourself calm or else you’ll risk the health of the baby.”

I manage to control my breathing before it got worse again, “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting this to happen so soon.”

“Congratulations on the new addition, I’m sure your husband will be thrilled to hear the news.”

“May I ask that you not tell him about the baby? I would like to be the one to tell him myself.”

After being released from the hospital, Namjoon drove me home to rest from the stress my mom put me through. Namjoon held me close to his body as he walked me up the stairs to take me up to his room.

“I can go to my room to rest.”

Namjoon tucks me into his bed, “I want you to stay with me tonight…tomorrow…and every night from now on.” He finishes his sentence with a kiss to my temple.

“Namjoon, can we talk about something?” I have to tell him about the baby. This wasn’t part of the plan yet again everything we’ve done up until now hasn’t been planned but bringing another human being into this is something much bigger than our sudden marriage.

“Later, I want you to relax for the rest of the day. I don’t want you to think about anything stressful. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow.”

For the rest of the night Namjoon didn’t mention anything about today. He just held me and talked about how well Jungkook was doing in the studio. The more he talked the more difficult it was for me to tell him about the pregnancy.

Eventually his soothing voice lulled me to sleep.

I woke up the following morning and he was gone. He sent me a text to my new phone saying he was called into the office for sudden meetings but he would come straight back home once he finished them. He called a few times to check up on me since I was home alone. I continued to think of a way to tell Namjoon about being pregnant but it got harder to come up with ideas without having an anxiety attack.

I continue pacing the living room until I hear the doorbell ring. I look at the camera that shows the front door. Just when things couldn’t get any more complicated Chairman Kim has decided to pick today of all days to visit.

I open the door and bow at the chairman. “Hello sir, I’m sorry but Namjoon isn’t home right now.”

He walks in passed me, “I know. I came to see you.”

“Me?”

Chairman Kim takes a seat in the leather chair and points to the couch across from it, “Please have a seat,”

Hesitantly, I take the seat and fear for what he has to talk to me about so suddenly.

“I have something to show you and I want to be sure I understand something correctly.” He hands me his phone where a video begins to play.

Oh no.

The video pans around a wedding chapel from Las Vegas and then Namjoon and I appear on camera. We’re obviously drunk, laughing and leaning against each other.

“We just got married!!” I shouted showing off the wedding band that I ended up with that morning I awoke with a hangover.

Namjoon picks me up, “This is my wife now. She’s all mine.”

“He’s all mine.”

The rest of the video is us celebrating our marriage until we leave the chapel which is when the video ends.

I hand his phone back keeping my silence.

“It seems to me that this whole thing was just a childish mistake which ended up being of some use to my son. Is that right?”

I didn’t want to sell Namjoon out about our plan so I maintain my silence.

“My son has always been too smart for his own good. I figured giving him a business to build would keep him out of trouble up until he stopped coming to me for business permission. I will give him credit for what he’s accomplished.

The only thing I asked of him was to marry a woman to match his success and in the end he inebriatingly marries his assistant.”

I fight the urge to talk back but in the end he’s right. I wasn’t meant to be a CEO’s wife but by chance and mistake I became one.

He tosses a file on the coffee table in front of me. I open the folder to see photos of Namjoon and me from back when I moved in to recently where we were shooting the video with J-Hope.

“He’s a good actor isn’t he? I’m sure you noticed a change in him suddenly.”

I start to think about the first few days we started to pretend where he didn’t seem attentive until after I left and came back. Things did change suddenly but it can’t be because he knew his father was following us.

“I’m sure giving you what you wanted was a good way for him to keep you around to pull off the charade. I bet you two may even have a little ‘friends with benefits’ deal as well but that’s none of my business.”

I hold in a scoff to how contradicting that is.

“I was planning on letting it go since he put so much effort into making a plan out of this but after I heard about what happened with your mother I fear this could be harmful for him.”

“My mother won’t be a problem. Even if she tried I wouldn’t let her hurt Namjoon in any way.”

He smirks, “Of course not, since you would lose your meal ticket.” I clench my fist at how low he thinks I am to use Namjoon for his money. He seems to notice it, “Unless, you’ve actually developed feelings for my son.”

“I have the utmost respect for Namjoon as a boss and a man. I would never do anything to take that away from him, financially or emotionally.”

He leans on his knees to have a closer look at my face, “You continuing to be with him means there’s a price to pay. Are you willing to go through that?”

“For him, I’m prepared to go through anything.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to say this but I’ve prepared something just in case.”

He reaches into his briefcase that has been filled with nothing but bad news so the next paper he pulls out gets my nerves going again.

Marital Contract

“Consider this the prenuptial agreement you should’ve signed before getting married. You sign this annually or divorce my son.”

The contract entails that should anything happen between Namjoon and I that I should never speak of the deal he and I made at the start. It wasn’t until one of the clauses under divorce catches my attention.

Should Namjoon and Y/N have a child, all rights to that child will be relinquished and full custody will be given to Namjoon.

My throat tightens as I picture the peanut growing inside me having to live without a mother if Namjoon and I were to get divorced. I wouldn’t leave them behind but what’s to stop Namjoon from divorcing me? I’d have no choice if he were to grow tired of me in the future.

“Is it possible to negotiate the terms?”

“No, what is there is the agreement.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t sign this.” I slide the paper back to him.

He shrugs his shoulders, “I figured that which is why I have an alternate proposal.”

I swallow the knot that’s been stuck in my throat since reading through the contract.

“You sign the annulment papers, leave Seoul and I’ll give you enough money to live the rest of your life quietly. I can get you a job as a choreographer in the states with the best in Atlanta, New York, and even Hollywood.”

The tears begin to stream down my cheeks, “I’ll agree to all of that but I have one request from you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Don’t take the company away from Namjoon. Let him marry when he’s ready. So please don’t take away the company he worked sleepless hours to build.”

He nods, “Fine. The company’s his.”

“Then you have a deal.”

NAMJOON

As soon as the line went dead I went into a panic state of mind. I called Jimin numerous times until he finally answered and told me what had happened. I had men on the lookout for her mom. I could’ve had it done sooner but I didn’t think she was that crazy.

I was relieved to see that she’s alive and well. I was worried when Jimin told me that she had a panic attack. The fear she must’ve felt in that moment and I wasn’t there to calm her down.

Jimin and I grab a cup of coffee near the hospital cafeteria.

“Thank you,” I say straightforward which catches him off guard, “for being there. I hate to think what could’ve happened if you weren’t there.”

“Then don’t, just think of what you can do for her now that she’s fine.” He sighs before continuing, “Y/N and I have been friends for a long time. I was there for her when her mom would beat her and I’d let her stay at my house so she would know that there are people who don’t want to hurt her. I even wanted to marry her just so I could have the right to protect her. The point is she is my family.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“I want her to be happy no matter who that’s with. I have trust in you that you’ll be her rock. Don’t prove me wrong.”

[Thirteen]

[hollygopossumlovesj2]

Come Back Down, Part 13

Title: Come Back Down Part 13

Rated: PG-13 for cussing, etc

Summary: Jensen and Y/N get an unwelcome, unexpected visitor.

A/N: Thanks for being patient with me. I finally saved enough to purchase a really cheap lap top and will hopefully be able to write and post a lot more efficiently for here on out. Thanks for reading my stuff! (Also, kind reminder that my views are not necessarily reflected here, but I needed a villain. Don't roast me please.)

Tagging: @perpetualabsurdity, @maileann, @daydreamingintheimpala, @gecko9596, @gemini75eeyore, @jotink78, @dancingalone21, @winchesterprincessbride, @sandlee44, @exploratiionist, @arryn-nyxx, @littledarlinhavefaithinme, @tiffanycaruso, @boredoutofmymindstuff, @feelmyroarrrr, @raeganr99, @ruprecht0420, @anokhi07, @letsgetyourdeanon, @sis-tafics, @jensen-gal, @theoneandonlysaucymo, @27bmm, @callmesatansprincess, @hbenth, @atc74, @wheresthekillswitch

Master List  (if you need to catch up)

The face that confronted me from Y/N's front door was definitely not one I'd been expecting. "Danneel?" Just saying her name made rocks grind around my insides. Judging by just her expression, this was not going to be good.

"Jensen, so not surprised to see you here." Her tone and expression were completely sardonic, one finger twisting rapidly around a piece of hair. She didn't pause before she pushed past me to slip through the doorway and into the living room. "Hm," she gave it a bored appraisal. "Kind of quaint, isn't it?"

"Who is it?" Y/N hobbled around the corner in a loose tank top and a pair of her tight yoga shorts. The ones that barely covered her perfectly round ass. The tank top that Y/N was wearing perfectly showcased the hickies I'd managed to give her the night before. Fresh bright red and deep purple bruises in the shape of my mouth. "Oh." Y/N appeared dumbstruck for a moment before she snapped back into a more confident one, a smile on her face.

Danneel spared me a look, probably seeing the strange guilt I felt for what I'd been up to for the past few weeks, before turning back. "You look like you're getting around better." She was feigning nonchalance, but I could tell there was anger just beneath the surface.

"Uh, yeah. Better than being in a ravine." She offered cheerfully with a shrug before motioning to the couches there. "Where are my manners, have a seat! Can I get you something to drink? I don't have any sparkling water, but I have some coke or orange juice?"

Y/N was taking charge and it was a sight to see as I still stood dumbstruck. Y/N had apparently remembered her Southern roots. Danneel seemed a little stunned herself as she followed the underlying command in Y/N's tone and took a seat.

"I'm fine, thank you." Danneel answered primly, visibly getting her confidence back. "I just need a moment with Jensen." The alone was implied but Y/N probably heard it loud and clear.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure, I just need him to help me with something in the kitchen... Still a little gimpy." She motioned to her still cast encased arm. "Then he's all yours." Y/N seemed relaxed rather than having as hard a time as I was at having Danneel in Wyoming.

Danneel had never come here, it was always Y/N making the flight or drive to meet up with me. She'd never had any inclination of visiting a ranch. In fact, I could envision the way she'd handled walking in the gravel driveway in the heeled sandals she was wearing.

Danneel consented with a nod, but Y/N never saw it. She'd already began hobbling her way into the kitchen without even as much of a second glance in my direction.

I nodded once in approval before I quickly followed behind her, my eyes still wide from the original surprise. I immediately started to apologize, my voice a harsh whisper in the now silent house. "I had no idea she'd... oh my God what is she doing here?" I was about two seconds away from a panic attack.

"Hey, calm down. Take a few deep breaths, it's not so bad." She spoke calmly and clearly, her hands a welcome weight on my arms. "It's gonna be okay." Then, she smiled at me, a warm reassuring smile that warmed me down to my toes. She waited for me to take a few measured breaths, her right thumb running circles on the thin skin underneath my arm. "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm good." I finally breathed out, feeling my shoulders sag a little.

"Okay, so your ex wife shows up at your new piece on the side's house. No biggie. It's you're territory. You can make this go however you want, Jensen."

She smiled at the way my lips pursed, "Don't call yourself that."

"You're missing the point." She squeezed when she saw me lose focus again. It was like our relationship hadn't changed a bit. This was Y/N, my best friend no matter what and I couldn't be more thankful for that. "Do you want your Ativan?"

I nodded, "Okay," she grabbed me into a tight hug.

"Don't think too hard. You have nothing to hide. This is just between you and Danneel, okay?" She grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and an Ativan from the collection of prescription bottles on her counter. "Take your time." She soothed. Unscrewing the top of the water, she handed both to me with a steady hand.

Y/N was right, this was my territory. I could handle this. So what if I spent the first ten minutes just watching the hallway, waiting for Y/N to save me?

I nodded dumbly, not wanting to face Danneel alone. Which was strange because hadn't I spent a lot of alone time with her? We were married for fucks sake! I nodded again with more resolve and took my first steps into the den. I was a grown assed man, I could handle this.

"I guess you know why I'm here." Danneel began tentatively, turning her head to face me. There was not a thing out of place on her. She wasn't disheveled or in distress. In fact, she looked healthier than ever. It was obvious that the stress wasn't getting to her. But I couldn't for the life of me figure out what she was doing here.

"Actually, I really don't, Danneel. What are you doing here?" I asked, not unkindly. Although, I really wanted to ask her what was so important that she'd be willing to make the drive now instead of when we were actually married.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, seeing Y/N checking on me from the kitchen doorway. I nodded, grateful for the reminder that I wasn't alone. She disappeared down the hall to her room and I ached to join her. To just curl up in her bed that had too many pillows. To feel her close to me and know that I wasn't being judged just for breathing. For my inability to father a child. For my inability to give up my dreams.

She didn't look so confident anymore. In fact, she looked livid. "Is that what this is about, Jensen? You finally get the balls to fuck your best friend? Did you finally get it out of your system? Lord knows it took you long enough!"

Sadly the first thought that popped into my head was 'not yet'. Then, her words finally smacked me right in the balls. "What the hell, Danneel?!" What did she mean by finally? Jesus!

"Tell me I'm wrong, Jensen. Tell me you didn't divorce me so that you could come down here and shack up with her!" Danneel was red in the face, her fists clenched so hard that her knuckles turned white. "You couldn't take time off to fix your marriage but you cancelled all of your conventions the minute Y/N gets a damn paper cut!"

"It wasn't a fucking paper cut, Danneel! She needed me." I was ashamed to admit that I was absolutely dumbstruck again, and it occurred to me a little late that I didn't need to fuel the fire by immediately jumping to Y/N's defense. "No, Danneel, our divorce has nothing to do with Y/N." I began again, calmly, though I really wanted to scream. "We went thru the proper channels. We separated. After the appropriate amount of time, we signed the papers. We handled this amicably and that part of our life is done. I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have Danneel, but it's been over. Way before we even thought about it."

"I think you mean I rolled over and gave you what you wanted!" She snapped, standing up now, towering over me in a way that she normally couldn't do. "I came here to talk this over like adults. To handle this outside of the courtroom, but I have to fight for what is right for my child, Jensen."

And just like that all the air was sucked out of the room and we were sitting in a damn black hole. "W-what?" I managed to stutter out, licking my lips because they suddenly felt numb.

"I'm pregnant, moron! So you better get this out of your system and get your sorry ass back home!" If I had been paying attention instead of dying a little inside, I would've noticed that she looked a little victorious about the absolute destruction she was causing me.

When I finally got my voice back it was shaky at best. I was going to need a lot more than just one damn Ativan to figure this shit out. "You're... How... I thought..."

"Yeah, four months. Big shock for me too. I thought I had a stomach bug or an anxiety problem. Turns out, I had an anxiety problem and the wrong kind of bug."

My head was spinning, my breath still getting stuck in my throat. "I've already- I've signed the-" God, I needed to get it together. Why was I so dumbstruck? I was happy, of course the universe wouldn't let me have that for long.

It was now that I noticed the gleam in her eyes, "I didn't." She smiled, getting dangerously close to my face. How could someone so small be so intimidating? "So, technically we're still married. Technically, you stepped out on me and I have the pictures to prove it. So, if you want to keep everything you've ever cared about and not hand over every cent you own for the care of me and this baby for the rest of your miserable life, you better end this. Now!"

Danneel left me frozen on the couch watching everything I'd ever worked hard to earn slipping away while she drove away in her rented Mercedes SUV. How in the hell, after all the times that we'd tried, had she finally managed to get pregnant? I was going to be sick. My stomach was flip flopping with the joy of finally being a father and absolute dread of the situation I found myself in.

I barely made it to the half bathroom off of the kitchen before everything I'd had to eat that day made a reappearance. It took a minute for my ears to stop ringing and my vision to clear before I realized Y/N was where she always was. Right beside me, her hand a reassuring weight on my back and a wet cloth in her hand.

What had I done? "Oh fuck. Oh fuck... ��I... Shit."

"Shh..." Her fingers squeezed the back of my neck once before handing over a glass of water so that I could rinse out my mouth. She used the wet cloth to wipe my face with gentle, patient swipes.

"She's pregnant. There's a baby." I began haltingly, feeling like my chest might simultaneously squeeze into nothing or hollow out completely, leaving me a culled shell. I backed away from the toilet so that I could lean against the wall. It was soothingly cool on my skin.

"It's gonna be okay, Jay. A baby is good news, you wanted one of those, right?" There was something off about her voice, about how careful she was being but I lacked the brain cells to investigate it further.

"Of course. Of course... a baby. I mean, it's what we always hoped for, but..." I finally glanced up, finding Y/N awkwardly perched on the closed toilet seat. She was close enough that she could run her good hand soothingly through my hair.

"But, what?" She prompted after I'd been quiet for a few moments, her voice completely patient as she waited for my answer.

I felt terrible, that horrible deep ache lingering in my chest like a solid weight. All I wanted to do was rest, curled up with the woman I'd loved in one way or another for the majority of my life. "I just want to lay down with you. Can we do that?" Even to me I sounded pitiful, but I had no energy to reel it in. Y/N didn't need me to be anything else. She'd always been satisfied with whatever I could give her. I was always enough.

"Yeah, let's go." She patted my cheek affectionately.

I brushed my teeth quickly then followed Y/N to what I now considered our bed. It was bathed in soft light from the setting sun. This was where I had last been happy and I wanted to surround myself in it.

I let her get comfortable now that she was able to lay down without her brace for short periods of time, and wordlessly curled around her. My face was tucked into the back of her neck where I could inhale her scent,  which was like a balm.

Her hand took up a calming rhythm as she brushed soothingly across my arm that was circled around her waist.

"I love Danneel, I do, but it's not the same anymore." I know my voice was muddled by her hair, but I hoped she could understand me because I needed her to know everything now. "And I will love this baby with all my heart, but I still need you, Y/N."

"I'll always be here for you, you know that." She answered easily, never stopping her rhythm of comfort. But her words made something very clear to me. She didn't expect me to stay and that was unacceptable.

"No, I don't think you understand." I moved my arms so that my hand could cradle her face in my direction. Her eyes were glittering with moisture and wariness that I couldn't stand to see there. "I'm not leaving you. I can still love and raise that baby and keep you too. As far as I'm concerned I divorced Danneel, the only thing she will be to me is a mother to my child. But you, you are the love of my life. I can't lose that."

"And if you can't have both?" She asked quietly, her y/c/e eyes watching me carefully.

"I can have both. I'll make sure of it. I won't lose you, Y/N. Not now. Not like this, sweetheart." I kissed her nose, her cheeks and then finally her mouth, like I had every morning since the first morning I'd woken up in our bed. "I promise."

[divinelydivorced]

Divorce: Lies

Numb.  I remember feeling incredibly numb.  There’s this tendency I have to sort of “click off” my emotions and hit overdrive with tasks. Once I’d realized Dave was set on our divorce my brain said “Stop feeling.  Start doing.”  The problem is it’s way more complicated to get divorced than it is to get married. You want to lower the divorce rate? Get rid of pre-marital counseling and instead make a couple live a year in the lives of two people divorcing. That, my friends, would be a WAKE. UP. CALL.  

I’ve been witness to several people, weeks from their wedding, having cold feet who justify proceeding forward with, “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll just get divorced.”  Dave and I were two people, with few assets, no kids, and inexpensive furniture who agreed on who got what.  Yet it took us almost a year before we could stand in front of a judge…and even today, almost two years later, there are still papers that have yet to be signed. For those people with lots of money, a home, and kids, I can only imagine how tortuous the divorce process must be.  If engaged couples had to file that paperwork, live in that tension, and answer awkward questions from nosey relatives, close to 90% would say “not worth it.”  

But that’s hindsight for you.  There was nothing I could do to change the past, so my goal was to move forward as quickly and efficiently as possible. Unfortunately, though, Dave and I were coming from two very different places.  Dave had an amazing job, with reliable benefits, and a paycheck that was about to double in size once he only had to worry about himself.  With each month that drug on, he saw more of his money continue to go towards supporting our old lifestyle, which meant less he could spend on fancy bikes and cool solo vacations.

For me, though, I was hit with a fast and hard reality.  When we’d moved to Chicago, I’d quit my job and started to pursue acting.  My touring job barely paid for groceries, yet left little to no time for a steady job that would pay the bills.  My insurance was through the actor’s union and was stable, so long as I kept touring.  Thus, when Second City decided to let me go, they took my insurance with them.  There’s so much more to explore here, but I’ll save that for another time.  Let’s just say, in the long run, they did me a favor.  But, in that moment, it was another thing I’d failed, another hole to fill, and another problem to fix.

Needless to say, Dave was excited as his new future grew nearer and I was terrified.  While we waited for our court date, we had the standard questions all divorce folks find themselves trying to answer.  Where will we both live?  What will we do about the dog?  How will we pay the bills?  Do we want to see each other?  How can we be kind to one another while this process draws out?

My suggestion, made when I was still touring, was we split the apartment 50/50 each month.  I was gone over half the time, leaving the place to him and when I’d return, he could stay with his parents who lived quite close to his school.  He didn’t like that idea.  He suggested we both live there together.  I refused.  I mean, if we hadn’t successfully lived together as a married couple, how would we do so as a divorcing couple with the tension rising?

He then said he wanted to rent a small studio and lease a car.  This, actually, was a great idea.  We sat down with our budget and this was an easy solution.  The studio was close to our current place, so he could help take care of Sophie when I was gone and everything worked financially.  It would be tight-but definitely doable.  But then, out of nowhere, he refused to go through with it.  He didn’t like to see that money disappearing when it could go into savings we would split later.  So, what then do we do?  

He said he didn’t know what I was going to do but he wasn’t moving.  Essentially, he was demanding we go with his original plan and if I was uncomfortable with it, I should leave…after all, as he pointed out, his paychecks were paying the rent.  So, I left. When not touring, I split my time at various people’s places.  It was exhausting.  Going through the mental and emotional process of figuring out “what next” while sleeping in someone else’s house was impossible.

Too often I’d find myself saying I was going to bed, then sneaking into the bathroom to cry where no one would hear. I only had what fit in a few bags and miss Sophie had to go stay with my mom.  

Early one Friday evening, I ran home to swap a few things as the seasons were changing.  When I arrived, Dave was waiting and said he’d leave so I could have the place to myself.  He made such a big production of this.  He kept saying I shouldn’t feel rushed and that he’d just take a book to the coffee shop up the street and wait until I was finished.  But, again, no rush as he wanted me to take my time and even hang out for awhile there if I wanted.  Once he closed the door behind him, I started unpacking and then repacking.

I heard a buzz, but it wasn’t my phone. Then another buzz.  A third.  I followed the noise to his iPad.  He was getting texts from a male friend from college that definitely indicated he was not patiently waiting as a martyr a couple blocks away.  I swiped left, opening the text messages.  Within seconds I was enraged.

He and his friend were talking about this “hot” girl he worked with and how he should totally “bang” her.  To his credit, Dave was far less crude than his friend.   He did, however, agree and then indicated they were going on a date that evening and that he had to sneak away from the house so as not to be caught.  Then, she started texting him.  I clicked on the text:

“Is she home?”

           “Yes, but I told her I was going to the coffee shop.  You can pick me up there.”

I scrolled up and began reading their previous conversations.  Not only was this wrong of me, it was incredibly stupid.  The things I read that he wrote about me were heartbreaking. The outright lies he was telling her were incredibly degrading.  And the way she continued to push him to get a divorce quickly, to not let me “take” anything from him, and to hurry before I changed my mind, were mind blowing.  

Phone in hand, I called him until he answered. He knew from my tone he’d been caught and said he’d head home.  I was pacing in the kitchen when he opened the backdoor.  With wide eyes and a frozen face, he just stood there.  For the first time in a long time, no words could come out of my mouth.  

Silence always panicked him so he started spewing words, “it isn’t what it looks like,” ���we’re not dating,” “I swear nothing happened with her while we were married,” on and on and on and on and on.  I started having a panic attack, shaking, breathing hard, the room spinning.  Just as I felt like I was drowning, I pulled myself out of the water and said, “Stop. You.  Just Stop.”  He did.

“I don’t care who you sleep with.  It really isn’t any of my business at this point. What is my business is what you say about me.  I’ve kept the horrible things you’ve done to me to myself.  When people ask about why we are getting divorced, I say only that we both changed.  When they prod for details, I say it’s personal.  Yet you are here in black and white saying lies about me to someone I’ve never even met just so you can get laid.”

He jumped in, “I’m sorry-I know-“

“But you don’t know.  You don’t know what it’s like to have tried for six years to fix this marriage.  To have never been heard or understood or loved once by you.  When I needed you, you failed me.  You threatened me by telling me to ‘get better’ or you’d leave. You told me to choose between living a lie that appeased you or to be abandoned by you.  You are selfish and you are cruel.  I’ve made mistakes but I’ve admitted them and for years now, I served the sentence you placed upon me to live in this house with constant reminders that I was guilty and unworthy of you.  Even at the end when you refused to compromise, I packed my things to give you space.  Well, I’m done.  I want you out.  I may not pay the rent but I’ve paid plenty in this marriage with my self-esteem to have earned the right to stay here for three months without having to look at you.”

I walked into the bedroom, grabbed one dress I needed for the next day’s show, and said I’d be back in the afternoon and expected him and whatever things he wanted to be out.  As I pushed past him, out the door, and down the stairs he called after me.  But I couldn’t listen or even turn around.  I didn’t want him to see the streams of tears pouring down my face. The emotions had broken through and they weren’t going to stop.  

[lilacmoon83]

All I Want For Christmas is You

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 6: The Christmas I Almost Lost You, Pt 2

Roni drove them through the city and into the ritzy neighborhood where Snow had grown up. Most would think that growing up as practically a princess that she would be stuck up and bratty. But Roni, though she never met the woman, knew that Snow's mother Eva had instilled certain values in her. She made sure Snow knew that, just because they had money, didn't mean she was better than anyone else. Roni wasn't sure how Eva had managed to get involved with a terrible man like Leopold, but then her mother had some not so great stories about the other woman.

Apparently, those values that Eva had instilled in Snow had been learned late in life for Eva. Snow's mother came from money too and had once been unkind to Cora, long ago. Cora didn't come from money, but worked as a caterer when she was younger, often catering many of the ritzy parties in this social landscape. It had made her bitter and determined to marry for money, rather than love.

Roni's father had come from money as well, but had been a nice man, albeit weak and easy for her mother to bully. Then when Eva died, when Snow was only ten, Cora had moved in on Leopold and the former had wasted little time in remarrying. They were perfect for each other, even if she loathed them both. Evil belonged with evil, after all. But growing up under Cora's thumb had been hell for Roni and even though she was grown, she stayed in the house during Snow's formative years to protect her from most of her mother's insanity. Then the minute Snow was old enough, Roni helped her get emancipated from her father and the rest of was history.

So driving them back to this house drudged up terrible memories for both of them. They were both terrified for the men they loved. She knew Leopold and he wouldn't hesitate to order them to be killed. Snow was shaking and she knew that part of that was because she knew her father might kill her husband. But the other part of that was just being in the same room as this man. She knew what Leopold Blanchard had tried to do one night when she was only twelve and had Roni not been in the house, he may have gotten the job done. That's where their friend Lance had come in. She had hired him to guard Snow's door in their wing at night with money from the trust fund her father left her. And Leopold had never been able to buy Lance, much to his chagrin. So going back to this place was probably causing her sister more anxiety than she had felt in a very long time. She knew the only reason Snow probably wasn't having a panic attack was that she knew that wouldn't help David and Rogers. So Roni did the only thing she could in that moment to help her and reached over to squeeze her hand. Snow squeezed back and a tear slipped down her cheek, just as they pulled up to the house. Their car was instantly surrounded and they were led inside by Leopold's thugs.

David's head snapped to the side, as Arthur punched him again.

"Easy Arthur...it is Christmas, after all," Leopold chided, as he poured himself a glass of

expensive scotch.

"I'm never going to let you hurt her," David warned.

"You won't be able to stop me from doing anything, Detective Nolan. My Mary belongs by my side and you will no longer be a problem after today," Leopold replied.

"She is not your Mary, you sick bastard. I know what you tried to do to her," he growled.

"She's my wife and the mother of our daughter. And I will never let you take her away from Emma," he added.

"That's where you are wrong, Detective. After today, all my enemies will be vanquished and Mary will take her rightful place at my side," he said.

"Like hell I will," she growled, as she and Roni were dragged into the room.

"Snow…" David uttered.

"Well...at long last, you have come home, my dear Mary," he said.

"Only long enough to save my husband and our friend from you," she replied. Leopold chuckled.

"Oh, I'm afraid not, my dear, for the only way to save your beloved husband is for you to sign these divorce papers and never see him again," he countered. Her face fell and Arthur smirked, as he put a gun to David's head. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she began to cry, as she faced losing him.

"Why are you doing this? You're supposed to be my father...you're supposed to want me to be happy," Snow shouted at him.

"There was a time I did...but then you betrayed me. You refuse to fulfill the life that I have designed for you and defied me. I wanted you to go to business school so you could join me in the family business. But what do you do? You get a degree in education so you can teach snot nosed brats," he spat.

"Then you marry beneath your station and become a whore this peasant," Leopold spat at David. The blonde growled and struggled with his bonds, but Arthur put him in a headlock.

"If that was not bad enough, this Detective constantly interferes in my operations and tries to put me in jail," he added.

"Because you're a monster and a criminal! And my husband is a good man...a wonderful man that loves me and our daughter. He would never hurt me the way you have," she growled back.

"Then save his life...and sign these papers. Then I will allow him to take the brat and leave with the proviso that he never return to this city," Leopold stated, as he handed her a pen. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she took it from him.

"Or you can continue to defy me and Arthur will happily put a bullet in his pretty head," Leopold added, as Snow's shoulders racked with sobs.

"How about a third option?" a voice said, as Weaver entered the room.

"What is this?" Leopold growled.

"You thought you were setting my detectives up by getting them to follow Arthur, whom you instructed to lure them here. I knew they would follow, so I decided to create my own set up. Earlier today...I had this entire room wired. It's all on tape and there is no way this evidence can be refuted, even if you try to buy another Judge," Weaver stated.

"That was the big interrogation you had going today?" Rogers asked. Weaver shrugged.

"I had to make sure everything went down just as it did to make sure the charges would stick," he replied.

"The charges won't stick if none of you are around to testify," Arthur growled, as he pointed his gun at Weaver, but the detective was faster and put a bullet between Arthur's eyes. Snow cried out, but then hurried over and untied her husband. Roni did the same, as uniformed officers swarmed in to secure the scenes. All Leopold's thugs were arrested and Weaver cuffed Leopold himself, before hauling him away.

Snow sniffed, as he pillowed her against his chest, while they walked out toward the car.

"I almost lost you," she cried, as they stood outside the car.

"I know...and I'm so sorry I scared you. But we got him...and he's never going to hurt us or anyone else ever again," he promised and there was relief on her face at that. She tugged him by the collar and kissed him passionately.

"Let's go home to our baby," he said, as they got in the car and left the crime scene behind.

A few hours later, they had managed to calm down and came down from the loft with Emma to enjoy Christmas Eve. They weren't going to let her father's evil destroy this night and Roni ladled out some of her homemade eggnog for them.

"Thanks," Snow said, as she hugged her sister, thanking her for more than just the eggnog.

"We're family...and no one is tearing us apart," she promised, just as Weaver came in. He picked Gideon up, as he ran to him and Lacey greeted him with a kiss.

"Well?" David asked.

"The Judge revoked bail. He'll be remanded to prison until the trial after the first of the year," Weaver announced and they all breathed in relief. David took her hand and led her to their spot in the bar where the mistletoe hung above them, as he held Emma. She gazed up at him with love in her eyes.

"Just a few hours ago...I was afraid that we'd never have this moment again. That'd I'd never hold your or Emma again...I almost lost you and I never want to feel that again," she said tearfully. He gently cupped her face and kissed her tenderly.

"And I'm going to try my best to make sure you never do, my darling. I love you so you much," he said, as he kissed her again and Emma cooed between them. Snow smiled.

"I love you too. Merry Christmas, my love," she said. He smiled.

"Happy Anniversary, my beautiful Snow," he replied, as they held each other and their baby, enjoying yet another Christmas with their family and perhaps being more grateful than ever before...