#shes not even mad!!!! just perpetually loud

[frankensteindotpdf]

every kitchen door should have a LOCK stay the FUCK OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[iamnotoriginalphil]

A Helping Hand (Melissa Schemmenti x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You accidentally drag Melissa into a ruse in order to stop your friends from setting you up on any more blind dates

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: some self esteem issues, mentions of an age gap

“Trust me. This time I’ve found you the perfect date,” Carter said, pulling up outside Abbott.

“Not necessary,” you replied.

The last perfect date he’d set you up on had been a disaster. Not that you’d particularly wanted to go on the date to begin with. Your friends kept trying to solve your perpetual singledom, but what you hadn’t told them was you were holding out while working up the courage to ask out the one person you really wanted to.

“Why?” he asked, turning to look at you.

“Because…” You were about to regret the words that came out of your mouth, “I’m already seeing someone.”

“Who?” he asked, leaning towards you.

A loud banging came from the window. You jumped, turning to look behind you. Red hair shone in the morning sunlight and green eyes were peering in, looking less than pleased.

“Oi, you coming? The news will be on soon,” Melissa called through the glass at you.

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” you called back.

When you turned back around, Carter’s eyes had widened, flicking from you to her back to you. You froze.

“Is that her?” he asked.

“What?” you scoffed, “no. Look, I have to go.”

His hand shot you, grabbing your wrist.

“That’s who you’re seeing?” he demanded.

“Fine. It’s her. But it’s really new so don’t… tell anyone,” you whispered, “please don’t make a big deal about this.”

“She’s hot,” he said, looking over your shoulder.

You turned too. Melissa was still there, arms crossed, scowling at the car. You sighed, turning back to Carter.

“I have to go. But don’t you dare mention this to anyone. I don’t need you lot messing this up before it’s even something,” you hissed at him.

“Sure, sure,” he said, gently ruffling your hair, “go see your girl.”

You sighed, stepping out of the car. You slammed the car door shut with a little more aggression than you usually would use but you were tired and you didn’t even realise the can of worms you’d opened with a little white lie.

“You okay?” Melissa asked, falling into step beside you.

A car horn sounded behind you. You glared over your shoulder at Carter who was grinning at you.

“Fine,” you said, “just dickhead friends.”

The news helped calm you down and by lunch you’d forgotten all about your lie to Carter. Sitting by her at lunch, you were reminded of the way she made your heart beat faster and your breath catch. Her voice was enough to steal your attention and the way she’d laugh enchanted you. You’d do anything to make her laugh like that.

“Hey, is there something wrong with your car?” she asked, leaning back to talk to you at the table next to hers.

“It’s in the shop,” you replied, “the engine was making a funky noise and it got so loud I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

“Who was that in the car that made you so mad?” she asked.

“Just my friend Carter. Apparently I’m now a charity case that my friends have put on a roster of car pooling,” you said.

The way she looked at you had you shifting in your seat.

“What?” you asked.

“You ain’t a charity case,” she said.

“Okay.” You weren’t sure what she was trying to say.

She nodded , turning back to her lunch. Nothing had made sense, and you still had no idea what she was getting at but the conversation was closed. You nodded to yourself, biting into the leftovers you’d been eating before.

After school, a significant amount of time after the dismissal bell had rung, you stepped out into the evening air, tightening your coat around your body. Carter lent forward on the horn, grinning at you as you hurried down the steps.

“Yeah yeah,” you muttered, sliding into the car.

“Isn’t that your girlfriend?”

You blinked, trying to figure out what he was talking about. You turned, finding Melissa striding towards the car, looking ready to breathe fire. It crashed back into you, the lie you’d told and how fucked you were about to be. She tore the door open.

“Come on,” she said to you.

“What?” You were looking up at her and she was staring down at you and it was like the world was dropping out beneath you.

“Come on.”

She grabbed your arm, hauling you out of the car. You barely had time to grab your bag from the floor mat. She lent forward, looking in at Carter as if he’d done something to personally offend her. That wasn’t something anyone would dare to do at Abbott.

“She won’t be needing your charity anymore,” she said before slamming the door.

Her hand curled around your elbow, marching you off towards one of the last cars left in the lot. She wasn’t explaining anything. Carter wasn’t leaving. Nothing made sense.

“Melissa, what are you doing?” you asked as she stopped to unlock the car.

“You’re no one’s charity case,” she said, “I can give you a lift.”

“So, what? I go from being my friends’ charity case to yours? I don’t see how this changes anything,” you said.

She pulled the door open for you, waiting with an expectant eyebrow raised. You sighed, taking your spot in her passenger seat. In the reflection of her rearview mirror you saw Carter approach, groaning at whatever was about to happen. They talked, Melissa’s eyes finding yours in the mirror before saying something to Carter.

She was looking at you oddly as she slid into the driver’s seat some minutes later. You were desperate to know what had been said, knowing it wouldn’t be good for you.

“Your friend asked me to come to a barbecue this weekend,” she said, staring the car, “as your new girlfriend.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. She dragged one away from you, forcing you to look at her. She hadn’t pulled out of her spot, sitting there in the idling car while you tried to tamp down your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” you said, slightly muffled from the one hand still doing its best to hide you from view.

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” she asked.

“I just.” You sighed, “my friends keep setting me up on blind dates and no matter how often I tell them I’m not interested they keep doing it. So when Carter suggested I go on another one I told him I couldn’t because I’m already seeing someone and then you turned up. He asked if it was you and I… figured he’d never actually meet you so it didn’t matter. I’m sorry, I’ll tell him I lied to get him off my back.”

She pulled out of the parking lot, still not looking at you. Guilt curdled in your stomach and you didn’t know what else to say. Your head hung and you weren’t sure what to do. Maybe apologise more. Grovel for forgiveness. Melissa was not a woman to be caught up in bullshit she didn’t agree to and you’d done just that.

“I said I’d bring mac and cheese,” she said.

Your head snapped up. She still wasn’t looking at you, focusing on the road ahead, which given the driving was a good thing. Her lips curled up and you felt your cheeks heat.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said, voice small, fingers twisting in your lap.

“Do you want to go on more blind dates?” she asked.

“Not even a little bit,” you replied.

Her eyes flashed over to you then back to the road.

“You better tell me your address or you’ll never get home,” she said.

You directed her to your apartment building, not sure what else to say. She pulled up to the curb, looking up at it with a small wrinkle to her nose. Her approval was clearly lacking and that made your stomach twist again.

“Seriously Melissa,” you said as the silence stretched, “you don’t have to do this. I’ll just tell him.”

“What time should I pick you up tomorrow?” she asked.

And that was the last you talked of coming clean to your friends. She picked you up for the rest of the week as you waited for your car to be fixed, and dropped you off each night. And on Saturday, the day your friend Jenny was hosting a barbecue for Jared’s birthday, she knocked on your door rather than just sending you a one word text to get your attention.

“Hi,” you breathed out, seeing her there on the other side of your door.

Her hair was tied up, jeans and a tank top encasing her body. Casual Melissa was so very delicious, and for the afternoon she was going to be yours. It made no sense. None at all.

“How long do you think this thing’s gonna be?” she asked, pushing past into your apartment.

You followed her, watching her look over the room, eyes lingering on photos and little keepsakes. She picked up one frame, a small smile curling her lips before her expression was wiped clean.

“We don’t have to stay long,” you said, “whenever you want to go feel free to.”

“I’d never leave my girl alone,” she replied, placing the frame down again.

“Right. And I am sorry about this. Really.” You hoped she could hear the earnestness in your voice.

“Stop.” She held a hand up to you, “I’m doing this, aren’t I? If you keep apologising I’m gonna think you don’t want me to.”

“You’re being very kind,” you said, “thank you.”

“Think nothing of it, hon,” she said, “you’re my good deed for the month.”

You gave a weak laugh, picking up your container of watermelon and the cake you’d spent the previous night baking. She took them from your hands before you could ask for help. Locking the door behind you, keeping your face averted, you refused to let her see the impulse to swoon. In less than a week she’d treated you better than past girlfriends ever had.

You settled in the passenger seat, the cake resting on your lap, the wrapped present at your feet. Melissa merged into traffic, taking you closer to the party. You could feel your anxiety rising, not sure how this was going to go. Your friends and Melissa together in the same room, one believing she was your new girlfriend, the other pretending in order to help you… do what? Save face? Not go on any more awful blind dates? Use as blackmail material later down the road?

“I can hear you thinking,” she said, flicking on her indicator.

“Sorry,” you said.

“I’m not gonna give the game away,” she said, “stop worrying.”

“I just… I know you won’t,” you replied.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Why are you doing this? I’m not Barbra, you don’t… we’re not friends like that,” you said.

“Aren’t we?” She turned her head slightly, not quite towards you but not away from you.

“Are we?” You didn’t know that answer.

“Just accept the help, hon,” she sighed, and you didn’t know what the emotion in her voice was.

“Thanks Melissa,” you whispered.

She pulled up outside Jenny’s house, the balloons tied to the letterbox swaying in the air. You looked up at it, your anxiety spiking again. A warm hand landed on your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze.

“C’mon, hon,” Melissa said, “the sooner we go in the sooner you’ll see it’s all fine.”

“Right. Yeah. You’re right,” you said.

She didn’t hold your hand as you walked up to the door, nor did she try to touch you in any intentional way. She stood close enough for you to feel her warmth, but not so close that she was crowding you.

“Ready?” you asked.

Instead of answering, she adjusted her hold on both the mac and cheese she brought and the food you’d made and lent past you, knocking on the door. It took only a moment before the door was pulled open. Jenny was laughing at someone over her shoulder, before turning to look at you.

“Hey,” she said, pulling you into a hug.

You went, still feeling tense. Her eyes turned towards Melissa, interest entering her gaze. They swept over her before turning back to you.

“Is this her?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah. Jenny this is Melissa,” you said, turning to her, “Mel, this is my friend Jenny.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Jenny said.

“Yeah, you too. Where can I put this?” she asked, holding the food out to her.

“Oh, the kitchen is this way,” she said, turning on her heels to stride back into the house.

You shared a glance with Melissa before following Jenny inside. She helped Melissa place the containers of food down, looking out of the open door pointed at the backyard. Your friends were gathered, most already with some kind of drink in hand, Carter behind the grill, ominous smoke rising into the sky. Music was playing faintly and there were balloons all over the place.

“You work at Abbott too, right?” Jenny asked.

“Ya,” Melissa said and you realised that involving someone with severe trust issues of anyone she didn’t know was maybe not the best idea.

“She teaches second grade,” you said, “one of the best teachers we have.”

Her head snapped towards you, something unreadable crossing over her face before disappearing. Jenny was watching with interest and you knew you had to do better if you wanted your friends to think you weren’t perpetually single.

“Where’s Jared?” you asked, hoping to distract her from whatever was going on with you and Melissa.

“Outside,” she said, “so Melissa-“

You grabbed Melissa’s arm, tugging her towards the door before Jenny could say anything else. Out of her sight, you let her arm go, stepping down onto the grass. The air smelt of smoke and grass and summer, of days long since gone and days yet to come. You took a deep breath.

“Hey,” Carter said, jogging up to you.

“Hi,” you said, “I brought Melissa.”

“Great to see you again.” He was grinning at the two of you.

You rolled your eyes, shoving past him. Melissa followed you, right on the periphery of your vision, there but not close. Maybe that was a problem. If you were newly in a relationship would there be that much distance between you? Could you reach out and bridge the gap? You weren’t sure you could.

“Hey Jared, happy birthday.”

You thrust out the present in your hands to your friend. Tall and handsome, his charisma had meant he’d done well in life and love. In comparison, you were a hot mess. And yet growing up in neighbouring houses meant you had a friend for life it seemed.

“Thanks,” he said, a lazy smile spreading over his face, “is this the woman who’s finally taken you off the market?”

“This is Melissa,” you said, turning to look at her.

Her green eyes were narrowed and she’d crossed her arms, looking less than friendly. You sighed. You might have seen the softer side of Melissa Schemmenti but she was hardly showcasing it with your friends.

“Congrats on finally being good enough with this one,” he said, throwing an arm around your shoulders, “she’s a picky one.”

“Is she?” she raised an eyebrow.

“She has turned down every single person we’ve set her up with for three years,” he said.

“Has she?” She was looking at you with too much interest.

Hopefully she wasn’t putting two and two together. Three years ago you’d started working at Abbott and for three years all your dates were with people who weren’t her. You felt your cheeks heat up and you looked away.

“Glad to see someone broke the curse,” Jared laughed, letting you go, “get drinks. We have all kinds of stuff.”

You wandered off, waving to your friends, Melissa keeping step with you. The cooler was full of ice, drinks nestled inside. You reached down, passing her one of the bottles of beer before taking a soda for yourself. It shouldn’t have been hot watching her open the bottle, but it wasn’t often someone could do it without a bottle opener.

“Three years huh?” she asked after taking a drink from the bottle.

“My friends mean well but they have no idea what I’m looking for in a partner,” you replied with a small shrug.

“That’s a long time to not have one good date,” she said.

You shrugged again, not sure what to say. You weren’t about to admit the real reason was standing in front of you. You weren’t delusional enough to think she’d appreciate it or, god forbid, return your feelings. She could do better than you.

“Holy shit, y’all have to try this mac and cheese,” Henry called out, “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

Melissa looked towards them. You chuckled, looking down at your feet scuffing in the grass.

“What?” she asked.

“They’re never going to want to get rid of you now,” you said, “damn you and you’re mouth watering cooking.”

“My what?”

You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. She raised her own in response, waiting for an answer.

“Oh come on. You know you’re crazy good at cooking. You brag about it at least three times a week over lunch,” you said, “modesty isn’t a good look on you.”

She laughed, the kind that you desired to hear over and over again. Head thrown back, lips curling up into a beautiful smile, you stared at her doing your best not to have your feelings show all over your face. She nudged you with her shoulder, the laughter dying but her eyes sparkling.

“Jenny said you made this.”

Henry was there, holding the plate of mac and cheese, cheeks bulging from how much he’d put in his mouth. You snorted but you knew what was coming.

“If you break up with her,” he said, turning to you, “we’re taking her side.”

You snorted, “yeah, good luck with that.”

“Seriously,” he said, turning back to Melissa, “how do you do it? This is like the perfect consistency. And the flavour profile is off the charts. Do you do catering?”

“She’s a teacher, Henry. Chill out,” you said, “and I know for a fact Caroline won’t want mac and cheese at the reception. They’re getting married next year.”

That last part was for Melissa. She was growing more incredulous as the conversation continued. She stepped just half a step closer to you, her body warmth once again brushing against you. A small sigh left your lips, shoulders relaxing just a touch more.

“You ain’t getting my secret ingredient,” Melissa said, “but I’m sure I could be convinced to make it again for youse one day.”

“Convince her,” Henry said to you.

You watched him walk away, slapping Jenny’s hand away when she tried to steal some of it.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” you said, turning to look at her.

“Do what?” she asked.

“Pretend like you’re going to be around forever,” you replied, “you never have to come to another one of these things.”

“Hon, let me decide if I’ll be back. You just worry your pretty little head about having a fun time with your friends,” she said.

Warmth bloomed in your chest. Her hand slid into yours, palm brushing against palm until her fingers tangled with yours. Your heart skipped a beat, the touch of skin against skin making you feel breathless. Her smile softened, hand tightening.

“Go have fun, sweetheart,” she said, gently pushing you towards the group gathering close by.

You kept half an eye on her as you joined your friends, tracking her movements through the afternoon. She mostly kept close to the grill, and after a few false starts, seemed to charm your friends. Watching her, it only cemented that you’d made the right choice on having a crush on her, as if you’d have any chance not to.

“I like her,” Jenny said, “and you obviously do too.”

She nudged you and Jared laughed.

“Well, yeah, I’m dating her,” you said, doing your best not to trip on the word.

“And you look at her like she’s even better than her mac and cheese,” Jared said.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“You’re the definition of heart eyes,” she said, “when you look at her you get all melty and soft.”

“I do not,” you protested.

“You so do,” she laughed, “you get that dopey smile whenever you look at her.”

“And you look at her a lot,” Jared said.

You didn’t know how to refute the claim without giving the whole game away. You sighed, eyes flicking up, as they had all day, to find Melissa. She was already watching you, those green eyes shining when they met yours.

“See? That’s the expression,” Jenny crowed.

“Lucky for you, short stack,” Jared said, resting his arm around your shoulders, “she seems just as besotted with you.”

Now that was going a step too far.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Be nice,” you said, ducking out from under his arm.

Inside the house, away from the prying questions and and knowing looks, you could breath easier. You locked yourself away in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror over the sink. Your fingers clenched, thoughts racing. On the one hand it was good that you were selling the lie to your friends, on the other you hadn’t meant to show your actual feelings and didn’t want it getting back to Melissa. She’d know. Of course she’d know.

Cold water splashed up on your face and you put your game face back on. If you could keep it under wraps during school hours you could keep it under wraps now. You patted your face dry and slipped back into the house proper.

“So what’s your intentions with our girl?”

You paused just out of sight, listening in. Your friends, bless their hearts, were doing their whole Spanish Inquisition act and you couldn’t pretend like you weren’t interested in seeing how she smacked them down. There was no doubt in your mind she wouldn’t put up with their inane questions.

“I want to make her happy,” she replied and you could see the way she would be shooting them a look telling them how idiotic she found the question. As if her answer was obvious.

“Good answer,” Henry said.

“Could be practiced,” Jared said.

“Rehearsed even,” Carter said.

“Why her?” Jenny asked.

“What?” You could hear the offence settling into her voice.

“Why choose her?” Jenny asked, “and be careful. There is a right answer.”

You internally groaned, leaning against the wall. More than once someone had decided you weren’t worth it after going through this process. That the scrutiny wasn’t worth it. Melissa had to bring her A game if she was going to get through it.

“Why wouldn’t I choose her?” Melissa asked.

“She works too much,” Henry said.

“She eats too much sugar,” Jared said.

“She’s a mess,” Carter said.

“So why her?” Jenny asked.

“You say she works too much. I say she’s passionate. I haven’t seen such a talented young teacher in a long time. And yes, she eats like a kid with too much money let loose in a candy store. But she’ll share it with anyone she thinks needs it to the point where she’ll go without. And she’s not a mess. She’s doing the best she can and she’s doing it pretty damn well. I don’t know if youse don’t see her clearly enough but if that’s the only way you see her then it’s pathetic that youse call yourself her friends. I ain’t never seen someone who makes life brighter than she does. She is kind and talented and she cares so much it’s made her physically sick before. If youse think there is any reason I wouldn’t choose her, you’re wrong. So don’t give me stupid excuses to not want her. It won’t work. I’ve been choosing her longer than you know.”

It felt as if your knees were going to give out beneath you. You trembled, pressing back against the wall, doing your best to not slide down it. Your breathing, where you’d been holding it to listen to her, was now ragged. You had to pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes, forcing yourself to push the tears back.

No one had ever said anything like that about you before.

“You didn’t even mention how hot she is,” Jared said.

You pressed your hand to your lips to keep the wet laugh from making a sound.

“Her being hot is just an extra benefit. I’m not with her because she’s hot. I’m with her because she’s the sun,” Melissa said, scoffing at your friend.

Your mouth fell open. You had no idea Melissa could have been so poetic, especially without giving her a heads up that this might happen. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest and you had no idea how you were going to face her now. You ached, deep within you, to reach out to her, to press yourself to her, to bury your face in her neck until you weren’t sure where you ended and she began. Curling your arms around your body, you held on, desperate to keep yourself from falling apart.

“Good enough for ya?” Melissa asked into the silence left behind in the wake of her words.

There was a general grumbled agreement before footsteps began to sound again. You wiped the vulnerable skin under your eyes, brushing away the tears. You steeled yourself, straightening your spine, clenching your jaw. Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the kitchen again.

“There you are,” Jenny called, sticking candles into the cake you’d made for Jared.

Melissa was still there, looking out the door into the backyard. You sidled up to her, shoulder brushing against shoulder. She looked down at you and you couldn’t begin to unpack the expression on her face.

“You okay?” You asked, lowering your voice to keep Jenny from hearing.

“Perfect, hon,” she replied.

Her arm curled around your waist, so warm, making you only want to press yourself against her more. Your head fell on her shoulder, resting there, scared it would be too much for her and yet not able to stop yourself from seeking out her touch.

“Come on, you two,” Jenny said, “we got cake to eat.”

Melissa’s hand slid back into yours, and as you sang happy birthday to your friend, you felt your heart in your throat and your body yearning for her. As Jared lent forward to blow out the candles, she looked down at you, smiling softly, eyes sparkling down at you. You found yourself leaning towards her, drawn in by her gravity. She let your hand go, arm sliding around your waist, hand now resting on your hip, burning through the denim of your jeans. Your breath hitched and her eyes flicked down to your lips, her own pulling up in a small smirk.

You had no idea what to do with the way she was looking at you.

“Melissa,” Jenny said, stealing her attention, breaking whatever spell was woven over the two of you, “have you had any of our girl’s baking yet?”

“I made her a tiramisu for her last birthday,” you called to her.

“You made that? Shit, hon, I thought you’d bought it,” she said.

Had you revealed too much? No. No, you couldn’t have.

“Course I made it,” you replied with a small shrug, “no big deal.”

Something in her softened.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Her lips pressed to your temple, soft and addictive and your breath caught in your chest. Your skin tingled with electricity and if you could bottle a single moment of your life it would be that one to revisit any time you wanted. It would feed you for the rest of your life.

There was a collective aw from your friends. Your cheeks heated and you had to look away, scared they’d see too much. That Melissa would see too much. Her arm tightened around you and you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Do you want some cake?” Melissa asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, cheeks still hot enough to fry an egg on.

You took a slice from Jenny, waiting to see Melissa’s reaction before taking your own bite. Her eyes slid closed and she made a noise so filthy you thought you were going to have a heart attack. It sent a shot of pleasure right between your legs and you felt your eyes widened as you looked at her. Her eyes blinked open, hooded and seductive, and you had to swallow past the lump in your throat.

“I’m going to marry you just to have access to this cake for the rest of my life,” she said, voice husky.

You laughed, a little uncomfortable even while the thought was pleasant. Being Melissa Schemmenti’s wife. It was one of those fantasies you tried not to indulge in too much. You shoved a forkful of your own cake into your mouth to keep from saying anything stupid in response.

“I wanna open presents,” Jared whined, mouth half full of cake.

Jenny laughed, shoving him over to the table of nicely wrapped gifts. He tore through wrapping paper, uncaring of the mess he was making. Melissa was still holding you, but was focused on him, no longer making you feel as if you were about to faint from the pressure of her gaze. Your head lent against her shoulder again, watching Jared holding up the awful sweatshirt you’d bought him with the president’s face on it. He was grinning at you before pulling it on despite the warmth and the sun.

“I look so hot,” he said, looking down at himself.

“You look sweaty,” Harry said, shoving at him.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you wish you had this sweet piece of ass,” he replied.

“I’ll keep my own piece of ass thank you,” he said, “she at least knows how to shower.”

“How about we don’t call women pieces of ass?” Jenny suggested.

“Sorry, Jen,” he said, “but you know what I mean.”

“And I hate it,” she said.

You laughed, pressing your face into Melissa’s shoulder to muffle it. You felt her nose brush against your temple, her own chuckle soft. Warmth bloomed through your chest, embers of fire floating through your bloodstream. You pressed more to her, hoping it would stop you from doing something stupid, like press your lips to the skin under your face. Her lips brushed your temple and you felt yourself freeze.

Cold water splashed against your stomach. You shriek, flinging yourself out of Melissa’s arms. Jared had levelled a water gun at you, huge and intimidating, the box it had come from lying at his feet. He lifted it and you ran backwards, cursing at him as you took refuge in the kitchen. Melissa was following you, looking no more like she wanted to be soaked than you did. But still, you were laughing as you looked out the window at them, the shiver of your wet shirt barely noticed while you watched the boys battling it out in the grass.

“You alright, hon?” Melissa asked.

You looked over, finding her leaning against the counter, arms crossed, eyes travelling over your body. Your cheeks heated again.

“Yeah,” you replied.

“You’re going to get sick if you stay in those wet clothes,” she said and you knew she didn’t mean it to sound like such an invitation.

“I’ll be fine,” you brushed off, turning away to keep her from seeing the moment of longing on your face.

Warm hands settled on your hips, pulling you back against a soft body and all thoughts fled from your head. You lent back against her, unconscious of your actions and yet desperate for it. Her breath ghosted against the shell of your ear.

“Let me take you home to change,” she said, “Ava doesn’t have the money for a sub if you get a cold.”

Of course. Of course it was about work. Even if a shiver went down your spine and a whimper threatened fall from your lips. You’d never felt such a deep well of want for another person before.

“Okay,” you whispered.

She gave your hips a squeeze before letting you go, stepping back. Thoughts flooded back in, the throb between your legs making you feel shaky. You tottered over to the door.

“Hey, assholes, we’re heading off,” you called to the boys, Jenny standing by the door as if daring the boys to try and soak her.

The chorus of complaints made you smile, shaking your head with such fondness it almost hurt. Jenny gave you a tight hug, ignoring how wet your shirt was, leaving a wet patch on her own. Jared lifted you off your feet, swinging you in a circle. You were laughing and holding on for dear life but his strength was everything. Henry have you a one arms hug, the other holding the water pistol, trying to fight off Carter. He grabbed your face with both hands, kissing you with a loud smack on your forehead.

You turned back to wave from the door before your hand was sliding into Melissa’s again and you were being led out the front door. Settling into her car, you let out a sigh, one that spoke of happiness and contentment. You lent back in your seat, the smile on your face wide, all encompassing, until the muscles in your cheek began to hurt.

“Thank you,” you said, “that was a really good afternoon.”

“Your friends are interesting,” Melissa said, pulling out onto the road.

“They mean well,” you said, “sorry if they… I dunno. Made you uncomfortable or something.”

“They didn’t,” she assured you.

“You don’t have to lie. I heard them grilling you,” you said, not quite able to look at her. You hadn’t planned on bringing it up, but the words spilled from your lips without permission.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable, hon,” she said but her voice was tight.

You sighed, shuffling in your seat until you were looking at her. Her hands had tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles growing white. You wanted to reach out to her but didn’t know how, not without making her unhappy with you.

“You answered really well,” you said, hoping it would calm her.

Her eyes flicked to you then back to the road, hands tightening. Still she said nothing. Your fingers twisted together in your lap, anxiety building again. The nice afternoon was being washed away, the calm you’d felt as you’d climbed into the car nothing but a memory.

“Melissa,” you said, hoping the words would come as you spoke.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she snapped before you could say anything more.

“I’m sorry if they made you uncomfortable. And I’m sorry for eavesdropping,” you said, “I shouldn’t have done that. I could have stopped them and not… heard.”

“It’s fine,” she said, grip tightening even further, “we’re going to ignore it ever happened.”

“But what you said was so nice. I know you were only saying it so they’d believe we were together but… no one’s ever said anything like that about me,” you said, disappointment making your heart sink.

“What do you mean I only said that for them?” she asked, voice tight.

“Well, you were selling it, right? Helping convince them of the stupid lie I told Carter. Weren’t you?” You didn’t know what she was getting at.

Her head turned towards you again before back to the road.

“Hon.” You’d do anything to stop her sounding that way, like she was in pain.

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“I don’t suppose you do,” she sighed.

The silence that settled over you wasn’t comfortable. It made your skin itch and you wanted to do something to fix it. To make everything better.

“You called me the sun,” you whispered.

Her foot slammed down on the break. You jerked forward, the seatbelt cutting into you. You took a sharp inhalation, hand massaging your chest. Turning towards her, you found her already staring back at you. You stopped breathing.

“Because you are the sun, hon. To me, at least. And I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it. You need to know. You light up a room when you walk in and you’re so fucking bright. Sometimes I can’t even look at you,” burst from her, “fuck, hon, when you look at me like that I can’t think.”

“What?” You couldn’t be sure you weren’t dreaming.

“I didn’t agreed to this whole stupid thing for you,” she said, “I did it because I wanted to know what it would feel like to be yours. I was being selfish.”

“Melissa,” you breathed, overcome with the strength of your emotions.

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare. We’re going to forget this ever happened. We’re never going to talk about it. This is done,” she said, beginning to drive again.

You sat in silence, not sure how to tell her that was the opposite of what you wanted. If you never said anything then you’d never have everything you wanted. You were watching her, taking note of the way she was pointedly not looking at you.

She pulled up outside your apartment building. She sat there, still not looking at you, while you looked to her. She glanced over to you then back out the windscreen, face stoic and unfeeling.

“Go on,” she said, “what are you waiting for? An invitation?”

You continued looking at her until she huffed and turned to look at you too.

“I’ve never gone on more than a first date with anyone in three years because three years ago I met you,” you said, ignoring the disgruntled look on her face, “and since that moment I knew.”

“Knew what?” she asked.

“There wouldn’t be anyone else for me. You were it. Everything I ever wanted.”

“Don’t you fucking make fun of me,” she spat.

“Mel…”

You final bridged the gap, reaching out to her, fingers soft as they touched her wrist. She jerked back from you and it was like having your heart torn out from your chest. You were so close to having what you wanted.

“Melissa,” you said, trying again, “I want you so much it hurts. It’s like this physical ache in my heart. I look at you and it throbs like an open wound. You might think I’m the sun, but you’re the very earth beneath my feet. Solid and grounding and life giving. You’re the air I breath. I think about you all the time. To the point where I can’t sleep at night. I’m sorry. I know I’m being really intense. But you need to know how much I’m not making fun of you. I never would. Not like this.”

You’d been watching her face so closely, desperate to know what she was thinking. From anger to disbelief into something that was almost fear. Your hand landed on her wrist again, holding on now, desperate for her not to pull away again. You needed her to listen to you, to really understand what you were saying.

“What are you saying?” she whispered.

“I am hopeless and completely in love with you, Melissa,” you said, “but I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

She let out a long shaky breath, staring at you as if trying to work out where the lie was. You tightened your grip on her wrist. Her eyes shot down to it then back to you.

“You’re in love with me? Even when I’m so much older? When I can’t offer you anything?” she demanded.

“You can offer yourself and that’s really all I want,” you replied, “it’s all I’ve wanted for three years.”

Her hand rose, hovering over your cheek, before curling around the back of your neck and pulling you in. You whimpered into her mouth, lips sliding along lips. It wasn’t elegant and it wasn’t graceful, but it made your heart pound. She sighed, kissing you harder, as if trying to chase away the voices in her own head. You were swimming in want; wanting her closer, wanting more, wanting everything. Her fingers buried themselves in your hair, holding you there as her tongue sought out yours, making your head spin.

When she drew back, you were gasping for breath. Her lips were kiss stung and her eyes were bright. You surged forward, kissing her again, uncaring of the seatbelt and the centre console and awkward angle. You needed her like you needed air. She was your air. She was your everything.

She was always going to be your everything.

“Hon,” she mumbled against your lips, “wait a moment.”

You froze before reeling back. You never wanted her to ever be uncomfortable with you. You never wanted her to feel pressure or forced into anything.

Her fingers were still buried in the hair at the nape of your neck. She tugged on it and a shudder went through your body. Her eyes were smouldering and when her tongue ran along her bottom lip you groaned, loud in the enclosed space. She chuckled, tugging on your hair again.

“Let me take you out tonight,” she said, voice husky and you could hear how she was holding herself back, “please.”

“Like on a date?” you asked, breathless and desperate, thighs pressing together as you squirmed in your seat.

“Exactly like on a date,” she replied.

“Yeah.” You nodded, “yeah I’d like that.”

“Good.”

She lent forward, lips pressing to yours again. You whined into her mouth, not able to stop yourself. You wanted her so much it was making you lose all control. She pulled back again, sitting back, removing her hands from you. You tried to pull her back but she pushed you into your seat, making you almost cry out from your need for her.

“Go make yourself pretty for me, hon,” she said, eyes darkening when they swept over your body thrumming with desire, “I’ll pick you up tonight.”

“You don’t want to come up?” you asked, knowing how desperate you sounded.

“I do, but I won’t.” Disappointment plummeted through your body, “when I have you I’m taking my time to explore every inch of your body. I want to know everything that turns you on. We don’t have time for that before our date. Go on.”

“You’ll really come pick me up?” you asked, surprised you could still form coherent sentences after her declaration.

“Nothing could stop me,” she said, smiling at you with such wickedness it had your thighs clenching again.

You stumbled from the car, looking back at her. She was watching you, not even pretending not to. You waved to her from the door of your building, heart thundering, anticipation building, desire thrumming. She raised her own hand to you and you had to clench on the door handle lest you flung yourself back into the car and into her lap.

You had a date to go get ready for.

[capquinn]

dad quinn trying to get the kids ready for a day out but they're not cooperating and the whole time he's telling himself 'i've survived playoff overtimes. i can survive this' 🤣

Quinn trying to get the kids ready for a day out is organised chaos — the kind of chaos that feels oddly familiar, the kind that everyone warns you about but still somehow takes you by surprise.

It starts with Cub, who has already been running circles around the living room for ten minutes, his little legs kicking up the carpet as he evades Quinn’s attempt to wrangle him into his jacket. Quinn’s doing his best, trying to get the jacket over Cub’s arms, but Cub’s determined to escape — squirming, wiggling, twisting his body in every direction like he’s in some sort of high-speed escape race. Adamant that he doesn't need to wear one.

“Cub, buddy, just hold still for five seconds,” Quinn says, trying and failing to sound patient, his voice starting to waver under the weight of the never-ending wrangling. Cub whines, twisting his body again, nearly falling face-first into the couch cushions.

Quinn sighs, looking at him with a tired but amused expression. “How can someone this small create this much chaos?” he mutters under his breath, mostly to himself but loud enough for the whole house to hear.

From the other room, Bug’s voice rings out with absolute confidence: “I’m not wearing socks today!”

Quinn’s head jerks toward the sound of her voice. “What do you mean, you’re not wearing socks?” he calls back, but he’s already bracing himself for the inevitable argument.

There’s a beat of silence, followed by Bug’s indignant tone.

“Just not! My feet don’t need socks,” she declares, as if she’s already made a groundbreaking discovery that will change the world forever.

Quinn pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling the tension build between his eyes.

“Okay, but it’s cold out, Bug. You’re putting socks on.” He starts walking toward her room, his mind racing, wondering how he’s ended up in a perpetual state of negotiations today.

But before he can even enter, Cub bolts past him, a single shoe in hand and his jacket hanging half off.

“Cub! No, no, no…” Quinn mutters, watching helplessly as Cub removes his remaining arm from the jacket sleeve.

Quinn looks down at the car keys in his hand like they’re a lifeline.

“I survived playoff overtimes,” he mutters to himself, more as a self-pep talk than anything else. “I can survive this.” He shakes his head and turns back toward Bug’s room, where she’s still stubbornly standing in front of her closet, arms crossed and determined to make her case about socks.

He stops in the doorway, looking at her with a deep breath, willing himself to keep his cool.

“Bug. Please. Just socks for today. Then you can take them off when we get there, I promise.”

She raises an eyebrow, now slowly coming up with a new excuse. “But I’ll just get too hot in the car, daddy,” she argues, like this is some sort of complex problem only she can solve.

“Nope,” Quinn says, finally walking over to her, leaning down, and pulling out a pair of socks. “You’re wearing them. Trust me. It’ll be better for everyone.”

As he starts to gently slide the socks onto her feet, he glances at his watch. They’re now officially running behind schedule.

“Alright,” Quinn says, finally giving in to the madness, “we’re getting this done and then we’re getting out of here."

He watches as Bug sighs dramatically, sliding her feet into the socks. Cub finally calms down enough for Quinn to get his other shoe on (and his jacket, for the third time), and they all, somehow, miraculously make it to the door.

Quinn’s hand hovers over the doorknob, still feeling the adrenaline of the chaos, but he’s almost there. He gives a little nod to himself, a grin tugging at his lips, and with one final sigh of relief, says, “alright, we’re officially ready."

And as they finally step outside, Quinn knows that no matter how crazy the morning has been, at least the hardest part is over. Now, he just has to survive the actual day out.

[batchilla]

The most married divorced couple - Chapter 4 - Coffee and Custody

Years of well honed instincts through gruelling training had Jason as a perpetually light sleeper. A perpetually light sleeper who knew, even in his sleep, that he was being watched. 

He opens one eye, slowly sitting up as he takes in his surroundings - his wife’s… his ex wife's penthouse apartment. Well, that told him who was watching him at least. Sure enough, peering at him from behind the furthest arm of the couch he’d spent the night on is a tell-tale mess of curls so like his own - and Mary comes scrambling, not around the couch, but up to sit on the arm. “DAD!” 

Every time. Every time, that single word reminds him that there is in fact good in the world, and that his baby girl might just be the epitome of that. She all but tackles him into a cuddle. “You're here!”

He tries not to wince. He doesn’t ever want her to hug him less enthusiastically - but last night hadn’t gone well, and becoming climbing equipment for his daughter did not exactly help his recovery. 

Jason hugs her tight “Hi baby.” he says, his head resting on hers.

“Mm not a baby.” she grumbles “are you stayin’ for breakfast?”

“If mum says yes.” He says, part of him feeling dirty over the manipulative tactic - but the truth of the matter always was that Mary had a higher success rate in campaigning for him to stay then he did. Something about those adorable little eyes, he suspects. Mary hms, tucking her head against her shoulder. 

“M’ glad you came Dad. I don’t want Mr Brett to be my new dad.” Fucking what? Part of him wanted to resort to old methods on this ‘Mr Brett’ with extreme prejudice. For sniffing around his wife and daughter, and for trying to take what should have still been his. 

“What's that now baby?” he says, trying to keep the growing emotions that were making him feel like he was on fire. She didn’t need to know about any of that. 

“Mr Brett, he walks me to school sometimes cus I’m best friends with Jaxon and Riley and Kyle, and sometimes Mum walks me with them. They say its like a ‘carpool’ but cars don’t go to the pool, and the other day he and mummy went for a playdate while I was at grandpa Bruce’s and then Mum was asking how I felt about Mr Brett and I said he was so nice but that I don’t want a new dad and then she turned on baby shark and I got distracted.”  He takes a deep breath. He can’t get mad in front of Mary. Another deep breath. He realistically can’t get mad at all. He knows that. He had been divorced from his wife for four years. She was allowed to seek out … companionship. Had he? No. Did it feel akin to a betrayal? He knew it shouldn’t - but it did. She didn’t need to be lonely - and he didn’t want her to be. But he did hope that he’d somehow end up being the solution, not this fucking ‘Mr Brett’ asshole. Even then - companionship was one thing, but a relationship serious enough she’d mention it to Mary?

“Well, I’m sure he’s… nice, if your Mum likes him.”

“Mhm. Maybe you can say hi when he comes to get me for school.” “Speaking of school!” His wife's voice sounds from her doorway, loud enough to tell him she’d heard enough of that to panic slightly. “Mary, get dressed, you’ll be late.” 

Mary reluctantly separates from the hug, dragging her feet dramatically “Okay mum. Even though Dad’s here and he NEVER is, school happens every day and is super boring.”

“Nice try bubba.” she says, folding her arms and shaking her head. The second their child shuts the door - still loudly complaining about how unfair it all was, which in Jason’s opinion was psychological warfare, which his ex wife seemed somehow immune to, Jason turns to her. “We need to talk.”

She sighs “I guess we do. But not in front of Mary.” She runs a hand through her hair. “She’ll have eggs and toast soldiers - you want some?”

“Sure,” he says, trying to sound less bitter than he feels as he watches her head to the kitchen.

“So, Brett…” He says, following her to the kitchen and grabbing the bread and putting it in the toaster.

“Charles Brett.” you clarified.

Jason had to physically restrain himself from laughing. “Charles Brett? Those are both first names. You’ve replaced me with a man with a first name for a last name.”

“I haven’t REPLACED you, you LEFT!” She says, indignant furry in her eyes as she whips around to face him, stove at her back. Jason felt his blood boil. Yes, he’d left, but he hadn’t wanted to!

“And then you wouldn’t let me come BACK!” he counters, trying to keep his voice level, but not managing it. 

“BECAUSE YOU WERE RIGHT TO LEAVE!” She yells, tears in her eyes. 

“you fighting?” Mary asks, opening her bedroom door, tugging at the tie of her Gotham academy uniform as if it had personally offended her.

  “No sweetie.” they say in unison, as they shoot her reassuring smiles.

It doesn’t work.

She regards you both suspiciously, and takes her toast and eggs “please don’t fight. Dad’s never here and mum always cries when you leave so please don’t fight now.” “What?”

“Please don’t fight. Dad’s never here and mum always gets sad when you leave so please don’t fight now.”

“What?” Jason asks, glancing from Mary to you. You were proud that you’d raised an honest, headstrong young lady who had no hesitation speaking her mind. You did sometimes, such as right now, wish she did it a little less often around Jason. Jason who was now looking at you with a face you hated for how little you could read. He used to be an open book to her. Mary pulls herself onto the chair at the kitchen bench and dips her toast into her egg. “We got two names.” she points out to Jason. “Todd’s a boy's name.”

You sigh, and sip your coffee. She’d heard all of it. How lovely. 

Your baby girl looks at you, her hair in an attempt of a ponytail, her uniform slightly overlarge still, being early in the school year, both making her look so, so tiny. “What did dad mean? That you wouldn’t let him come back?”

You feel like you're falling. Luckily, there’s no amount of hurt, upset, or angry that Jason could be that would mean he wouldn’t come to your aid. “See cherub… Daddy didn’t mean that.” He says, grabbing her shoulder gently.

“I did… Well, I’m sure someone at school might’ve said, or the news… Marriage is supposed to be a promise to love each other forever … and I broke that promise.” Jason takes a deep breath.

 “What I did hurt your mum. She hasn’t forgiven me. Maybe she won’t ever. She doesn’t have to.” He shakes his head. “I said what I said because I was upset, but… It’s not her fault. It’s mine.”

You offer him an awkward, tight smile. “It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you baby girl. Just that … being married wasn’t the best option for us anymore.”

“...” Mary leans into her Dads side, her face solemn and thoughtful. You have to avert your gaze from the pair, lest you start crying - or worse - forgive him. 

“Do you still love mum?” she asks quietly, and Jason opens his mouth, hesitating for a second - which saves him from needing to answer the question. Only to make the situation a million times worse for you. Jason looks to the door. “Brett?” he asks, addressing you, but his gaze not leaving the door, with a look in his eyes that reminds you of darker days. “Brett.” You confirm, taking a deep breath as you move towards the door. “You packed M?”

“Yeah Mum,” she says, grabbing her backpack and shrugging it on, wrapping her arms around Jason’s waist in a goodbye hug. 

“See ya soon Dad?”

“...Yeah, baby. Really soon. Promise.” He says, ruffling her hair. 

You open the door, hoping to do this quickly, before things get even more uncomfortable. Charles Brett is a shorter man, with brown hair, brown eyes, forever slightly unkempt and a had perpetually tired look in his eyes from being a single father of three. But he has a kind smile, and you like him. He’s … a good man. He’s not Jason, but then again no one is. 

“Charles, Hi.” You say, leaning against the door to bar entrance. Normally you’d invite him in, have coffee or let the kids watch a episode of bluey while you chatted if the morning was running on schedule. 

He says your name, but catches your discomfort before he says anything more, and his gaze moves past you, looking for its source - and he finds it.

“Oh, Hello - Jason, yes? The ex husband?” He asks, pretending not to know who he was, as if he hadn’t seen the many magazines and heard the gossip surrounding his incredibly public, if staged, infidelity. As if Jason, in his need to convince Roman you meant nothing, hadn’t publicly called you a bitch. Jason doesn’t seem to remember that at this moment, and you watch as he puffs up his chest in rage. 

“Yeah. You have an issue with that?” he asks, moving to stand behind you.

“And if I do—-”

“Not. In. Front. Of. The. Kids.” You interject, before it can go too far. 

“Have a good day at school sweetie.” You say, kissing the crown of Mary’s head, giving Charles an apologetic smile, and all but slamming the door and turning to Jason. 

“He’s a good man.” You growl. Because he is. And because Mary needs a positive male influence, and Jason hasn’t been able to be that. And because you are a little worried that Jason is going to use his alter ego to run him off. 

“He’s sniffing around where he doesn’t belong.” Jason counters, stepping forward. You step back, and feel the door knob press against your spine. 

“He belongs here if I want him here.” You reply, refusing to be intimidated. “Yeah, well he doesn’t get to be my kids fucking dad! I’m her dad!” You cut your own angry response short “what? We’ve been on two dates. No one is becoming a dad to our daughter?!” “That’s not what she said” Jason says, folding his arms. “Mary got ‘married’ twice last week at recess and last I checked had two boyfriends and a girlfriend.” You roll your eyes. “She is not the leading expert in how adult relationships work.” Jason takes a deep breath. “So it’s not… serious?” You shrug. “It’s not … Look. We’re adults. We both have kids. We don’t have a lot of time for casual flings, and the kids get along so need to be protected. We are taking it seriously, but it’s early days.” He nods slightly, “I’m having bab’s look into him.” You close your eyes and exhale. “Jay…” “I won’t do anything unless I find something substantial.” he reluctantly promises. “But I don’t take chances when it comes to you.” You feel his presence loom closer despite your eyes being closed. You open them to see your ex husband’s hand lingering in the air a few centimetres from your shoulder, his eyes sad and longing as he stands before you. “Is he good to you?” He asks, the anger gone from his voice. “Can you… see a future with him?” “Why does it matter to you?” You ask. It’s mostly rhetorical. You know why, and really what you mean to ask without saying it in as many words… is if Jason feels he has any right to intervene if his search finds anything more serious than a questionable browser history.

“Why does it matter to you?” The words feel wrong against his very ears. His tenuous grasp on the cool facade he’d put up, which had almost begun to take a true effect, with those six words is utterly shattered. He feels his heart pounding, too fast, too hard, too angry. The pit changed him, in many ways. The anger had always been there. The pit had made it worse. He’d never once take it out on you. He’d sooner die. But it exists in him, clawing like a beast against the inside of his ribs. Why does it matter? Why does it FUCKING MATTER? It screams, it throws itself against his skin, it burns his eyes and boils in his blood. How can you not understand how deeply he loves you? How can you not understand that he’d destroy anything that wished you or Mary harm and delight in it? That if you hadn’t been in his life back then, he’d surely be on a very different path? How do you not understand? He turns away, tugging a hand through his hair, he cannot look at her in this moment, cannot meet those beautiful eyes, can’t bear to see the face he adores above all others contorted by anger. “It matters to me because I still fucking love you.” He says through gritted teeth, through the shame, the rage, and the hurt. “And because I know you know that,” He continues, stepping further back to pace the apartment - the home - that he had once shared with you. He hears her move across the hardwood towards him. Feels a hand on his arm. “Jason…” She says quietly, as if to soothe a wounded beast - and he wishes it didn’t work as well as it did. He wishes he didn’t feel like a frightened, pained, hissing beast. He pushes her away. Not aggressively - but a firm, nonverbal denial. “Roman fucked with our kid. I don’t regret what we did as a result. But love, he’s been in the ground for years. I know that it could happen again… But I don’t want to keep missing my kids' childhood because of that fear. If her safety costs us… then so be it. But I don’t accept that it will. I refuse. The only fucking reason I kept these-”

 He holds up the rings on the cord around his neck “Is to put yours back on your fucking finger one day.” He sits at the bench, his hands in his pockets so you can’t see his knuckles go white. So you can’t see his pain, or how bad what he is about to do scares him. “I don’t ever want to fight you. You know that, right?” He looks at you, and he hopes that whoever or whatever is out there he doesn’t sound as sad as he feels. He looks at her, his friend, his daughter's mother, his ex wife who he’d never truly seen as an ex anything, and he sees a woman who’s hurting as he is, but while he sees the solution to their pain as recovery of what was, she sees the solution as acceptance. She cannot help him. He cannot help her. But, together, perhaps, they can help their daughter. “I want you to know this isn’t just because of Brett. Though hearing Mary talk about a new dad did light a fire under my ass. I want custody. Shared, I mean.” He puts his head in his hands, elbows on the kitchen counter. “I’ll be asking for 50/50. Please.” He looks at her through his fingers. “We make a good team. Don’t make this be ugly.” She sighs, sad and tired and hurting. “I think we’re both a little too charged to talk about that right now. Can we have coffee in a few days?” He nods. “Yeah. Yeah that works for me. I uh… I’ll call Alfred to send a car round for me… and you can text me the details?”

A week later, you find yourself sitting in the back of a coffee shop, waiting for Jason to return with your drinks. You try not to dwell on the fact that despite not having asked, you knew he didn’t need to to know your order even after all this time.  You shuffle the papers of notes you’d had your lawyer look over. True, you trusted him. You thought he’d be a good father. You’d still stayed divorced for a reason. “I have concerns.” You say ternsly as he takes the seat across from you. He’s cleaned up. You can’t focus on that. You have a little girl who needs to come first right now - and you take a breath to remind yourself that she’s just as important to Jason. “Figures.” He says, but his tone is lighthearted. “Part of me just hates the idea of seeing her less.” You admit. He just nods, without judgement, without making the point that he knows what that’s like, simply letting you speak for the moment. “And it’s not because I like having her more than you, but because… I cried when she went on her first sleepover and she’s my baby.” You continue, picking at the napkin dispenser absentmindedly. “But beyond that there are logistical concerns as well. I know your … various residences…” safehouses. 

“Are safe. But moving as often as you do…” At least twice a week as a safety precaution.

“isn’t ideal for obvious reasons. Not to mention… She’s smart. She’s smart and she’s nosey.” Jason sips his coffee “her father’s daughter” “Nosey maybe. Smart? Debatable.” He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “I see your point though. We don’t want her to find out about the families… extracurricular activities.” You sip your drink. Sure enough, he’d remembered your order. Damn him and his perfect memory and his perfect face. “I’ve put some thought into it.” He reassures, and you nearly snort. Some thought? Knowing Jason, knowing his family? Several hours of thought had gone into any decision they deemed remotely important. You’d attended meetings, essentially war councils, while you were still married about the most minor aspects of their cover. “With my … schedule, 50/50 won’t be possible without her knowing everything, and she isn’t ready yet. But I want weekends, which I… we? Would spend at the manor. For stability.” “We?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. Jason gives you the same grin that had made you fall in love with him. Your stomach turns to a lepidopterarium. Damn him. “Well, last I checked Bruce said you were welcome at the manor whenever you wished… and if she was coming with you, it wouldn’t need to be a legal arrangement. Less of a paper trail is safer for Mary.” Jason says it matter of fact. Detached. Like he’s explaining a mission, not talking about his life, or his child’s. You know better than to fall for it. He runs a hand through his hair and winks at you. “Though if there needs to be a paper trail I’d prefer it be one leading to us again. I said some shit I shouldn’t have the other day. I apologise for that. You can keep seeing that Charles idiot - I was a prick about him, and his background check came back clean. But… I meant it. I fully intend to fight to get you back.” He stands to leave before you can process or argue. “So… See you Saturday morning?” he says not at all a genuine question, kissing your forehead and heading to the door, much like he might disappear after a one liner as Red Hood. You suspect it’s a strategy that works on cops or criminals - but is less impressive to his ex wife. All you can think to call after him is “SAYING THAT AND WALKING OFF ISN’T AS SLICK AS YOU THINK”

taglist @jasontoddproblems

@fic-over-cannon

@stormz369

[gremlingottoosilly]

Will we ever learn about your version Konig's backstory? like what happened between him and his parents (his dad seems like he was obessed with his mom too? am I wrong 😅) ANyway I LOVE your fics I always drop everything to read a new chapter!!🥰😍

Hi!! I really wanted to get into Konig's backstory when I was writing the first few chapters of If You Need to Be Mean, but then I just knew that there would be billions of people talking about perpetuating of abuse and how I "Try to make his actions look okay through his sad backstory" even though it was never my intention. So, I decided to just kinda leave it up to interpretation with a few hints. Konig's father was a very traditional, head-strong man who ruled over family with an iron fist. This was the main reason why Konig couldn't escape the bullying in school. Every time he tried to tell his dad, he would just be told to "man up" and would receive a slap or even something worse - just because of the fact Konig couldn't protect himself. His mother was emotionally absent woman, and his father earned enough money to allow her to just stay at home as a housewife - but she still didn't paid Konig as much attention. This is why he has such obsessive and warped tendencies towards women and traditional roles - in his head, he is still trying to impress his father, even if deep down he hates the man. His parents weren't particularly affectionate in front of him, but there weren't any fights or even just loud talks - his mom was a master in silently boiling her emotions, and his father didn't paid her feelings enough attention to get mad at anything.

If asked about his family, Konig would tell something about how much they loved each other and how traditional they were. One of the main reasons he doesn't want kids is that he just knows he would end up like his father - so he puts all of his love into his wifey instead.

[whineandcheese24]

so this post floated the idea of a Lucy/Eddie romance and I really like it. I wouldn't be too mad if Eddie didn't end the series with a love interest, but depending on how long they go, he's going to get another one eventually, and I think Lucy could be a really good candidate.

Eddie's previous LIs have had the same problems as Buck's where they're siloed off into their own little story and don't really have any connection to the greater plot. And like Tommy, Lucy solves those problems, being a character both the audience and 118 already know, and a fellow first responder who can show up occasionally without needing specific time carved out for her. It even works better with her being at the same station Tommy's at, because then she can be reintroduced next season by either showing up at an emergency with Tommy or being invited to a group hangout with him.

We don't know if Lucy and Eddie, or Arielle and Ryan have any chemistry because they've never really had a scene together, but I do think their characters could be really good together. While we don't know much about Lucy, she doesn't seem very naturally maternal, which could be great both as a way to show that if she and Eddie date it has nothing to do with Chris, and as a storyline we haven't seen yet of Eddie's gf having to adjust to him being a single dad. I also think that her personality could be really good for Eddie. She's loud, unashamed of herself, and goes after what she wants, and I think she could really challenge Eddie and vice versa.

If they do go this route, here's what I would do:

Let's assume that by the end of this season, Eddie has at least broken up with both Kim and Marisol. He may not be out of the woods yet, but he is for all intents and purposes, single. Lucy is reintroduced close to the beginning of the season, maybe as another first responder in the Big Emergency. Eddie, still feeling isolated, runs into her and the two do not hit it off. I mean he is being insufferable (as he tends to be when he's repressed) and she is just not dealing with his shit.

Eddie eventually starts healing, and Buck thinks he's good enough to start going out again (not on dates, just out of the house), so he and Tommy take Eddie out for drinks, and Tommy, not knowing that Lucy and Eddie don't get along, brings her so Eddie won't feel like a third wheel. Eddie and Lucy resume their not-so-friendly banter, but because they're out with Buck and Tommy (aka perpetual heart eyes times two) they end up gravitating towards each other anyway, and end the night something like friends. This would be around the mid-season finale, maybe episode 7ish (assuming s8 is 18 eps).

The rest of the season they get closer and closer, and they end the season as good friends who can rely on each other and will hang out together without the pretext of hanging out with bucktommy or the other 118ers, but nothing romantic yet. Then in s9, something happens that acts as a catalyst for Eddie and Lucy, and they kiss or hookup or something and start dating. I do think they should be less Ross and Rachel and more Monica and Chandler. As in, not really pining, just they were friends until they weren't.

anyway, just some ideas. I do realize there is absolutely no reason to expect this, but I saw they idea and it just kind of unfolded in my brain.

[slutforaemond]

Punishment

Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader | SMUT |

SUMMARY: You get caught by your lord husband while doing something you weren't supposed to.

WARNING ⚠️ : degrading, sadistic, slight misogyny, verbal and physical shaming,minors dni .

It's honestly pretty rough this time and Aemond is kind of a huge jerk. I really don't know whether you'll like it or not. I think I exposed my whore self with this.🤧

A/n : I wrote this in a hurry and didn't get time to recheck so please let me know if there are mistakes.

"My lady!"

You jerk up from your position on hearing the concerned voice of your chamber maid.

"You might injure yourself if you sit that way"

You were sitting on the arm support of your husband's chair in his study. You thanked the gods that the maid didn't see the way you humped on it while letting out the dirtiest moans.

You glance back at her face to check if she really was oblivious to your perverse actions.

The maid didn't seem to suspect a thing and you sighed in relief.

A blush crept up your face on realising just what you had been doing.

You dismissed the maid as you returned to the chamber you shared with your husband.

You climbed up the massive bed and plopped down dejectedly.

You stared at the empty side of the bed where Prince Aemond slept and pouted.

Your husband had been away to the Stormlands for the matters of the realm. It had been three days now and he hadn't yet returned.

But what had got you so frustrated was the order your husband made to you before departing. He had sternly commanded that you were not to touch your cunt or relieve yourself in any way until he were to return.

You had behaved like a good obedient wife so far but the throb in your cunt was driving you mad. You had been going through Aemond's books in his study, and you didn't even realise how you ended up seeking pressure from his armchair.

Your cunt had been perpetually wet and dripping since morning. You couldn't focus on anything throughout the day.

You got innumerable weird looks for you unusual heavy breathing and glazed eyes. If only they knew the thoughts storming through your mind as you tried to subtly press your thighs together, willing yourself to focus on the conversation.

Queen Alicent had deduced that you were feeling under the weather as she found you all flushed.

She even made you drink medicinal herbs for better health; not like it helped with anything.

"What if I just brushed my fingers there?" you thought to yourself.

Aemond wouldn't be back till two more days; there is no way he would find out, would he?

You chewed your lower lip as you debated with yourself. You glance outside the huge window, just in case you saw massive wings of Vhagar flapping through the night sky .

You thought for a moment more before you decided you couldn't take it anymore.

Your hand darted beneath your skirts and found the swollen wet mound.

"Mhmm" you let out a loud moan as your cunt finds a much needed relief. You rub your clit with the pads of your fingers as you close your eyes in bliss.

You wished it was your husband's fingers making

You writhe with pleasure but you had to be satisfied with yours for now.

You were too busy riding out your high to hear the door to the chamber creak open.

" Does that feel good dear wife?" A gruff voice made you jump and sit straight up.

You eyes went wide as you saw Aemond leaning against the door frame looking at you with a furious glint in his eyes.

"N-no my prince , I w-was just -" you mumbled but one sharp look from him made you shut up immediately.

Aemond swiftly strode towards you and yanked out hand from your undergarments and held it to his face, examining the glistening slick dripping off your fingers.

"Hmm."

He sniffed your fingers deeply before licking it clean. His teeth grazed your skin harshly, making you flinch.

His steely eyes shifted to find your trembling pupils.

He held your face with one hand and said, " What did I instruct you to do before leaving (y/n)?"

The cold glint in his gaze made you tremble. You flicked your eyes down in shame of being caught.

The hand holding your face roughly jerked it back to it's position; looking up at him.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" Even though his demeanor looked calm and his voice made you instinctively want to cower.

"You t-told me n-not to touch m-myself." You stutter out .

"Hmm and what pray were you doing?"

"Touching myself." Your voice came out in an embarrassed whisper.

You prided yourself in being the perfect wife. You loved how Aemond appreciated your domesticity.

Yet not only did you not obey him but also got caught in the act.

Your skin was burning with embarrassment as all you could think of was how your husband would now see you as a wanton slut.

Aemond was pissed but also surprisingly satisfied.

Married life with you had been a source of utmost bliss. Even though it had been merely months you two because spouses, it felt as if you're bodies were made for each other.

Aemond loved the way you submitted so easily to him, let him own every inch of you. He loved the way you worked so dutifully to servea and obey him. Aemond revelled in the feeling of your femininity. He made sure to be the ultimate provider for your needs and comfort.

His nights with you were divine; you bodies blending into each other to make your own colour of passion

But something had been bothering Aemond for a while.

You were too perfect. Even though he loved seeing you being so intune with your wifely duties, he was worried you were being too hard on yourself.

But that was not all. Aemond wanted to see you slip. He wanted to see your flustered experience of being caught in a mistake. He wanted a reason to let out his inner beast onto you that he had been holding back to protect your delicate body.

So when he finally saw the scene of you lying defencelessly trying to work your way to a satisfactory climax he knew you could never achieve with your own delicate fingers; he felt satisfied that he got the outcome he wanted.

He could already feel his member strain against his leather pants as leaned against the door frame listening to her soft purrs of pleasure.

It's going to be a wild night ; he thought to himself .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aemond made you stand in front of him while he sat down on the couch in a manspread.

He made you stand like that for quite a while as he stared blazingly at you.

Somehow the silence made him even more intimidating and you started to fiddle with your gown as your gaze shifted from side to side.

The anticipation of what's to come made you tremble in fear.

Suddenly a deep hum resounded the silent chamber and your husband's hand came up to tug at the neckline of you dress which made you crash onto him with a loud gasp.

He held onto your waist to steady you for a second but then pushed you down to your knees between his wide open legs.

His hand found his way back to your neckline but this time he ripped it down in a single motion.

Your hands intinctively came up to cover yourself but with one look of his , they went back to your your sides immediately.

Aemond crouched a bit to come close to your flushed face. He was so close that you could see his pupil dilate.

You were so lost in his gaze , you couldn't anticipate him pinching your nipple hard with the pad of his thumb and forefinger.

You yelped and tried to shirk back but he yanked you forward, this time both of your nipple within his grasp.

You bit your lip in pain as your eyes watered, and looked up at him in a silent plea, which was obviously ignored.

But oh how it pleased him! Aemond loved the expression gracing your face as he pinched your nipple sore.

He loved the round watery eyes looking up at him so helplessly. He raised a hand and smirked when you flinched at the motion. A swift slap came across your left tit making it bounce deliciously.

You couldn't help but let out a small scream.

"Don't make a sound unless I tell you to. Understood?"

"Y-yes."

"Hmm."

And then came another resounding slap followed by several others, but you dutifully stayed silent.

You breasts has angry red hand imprints on them. His hands were so massive it's marks covered your entire tit.

You didn't even realise when tears had started dripping down your face. Blinking away the wetness you looked up at Aemond.

The prince was thrilled more than he imagined he would. Your tear streaked face, red nose and trembling lips made his cock twitch like never before.

You on the other hand were extremely confused. You were being treated so roughly by your usually sweet and caring husband, but the wetness pooling below you stated anything but displeasure.

You were so turned on by the way your lord husband was treating you, it scared you.

"My perfect little wife. I couldn't ever fathom a lady such as you would turn out to be such a slut." Aemond smirked devilishly.

"You poor thing, you needed your husband's cock so much you couldn't even wait a few days. Tsk tsk."

Your eyes flicked back down in shame.

" You should've been patient, don't you agree?"

You nodded your head in reply.

"Words." He said warningly.

"Y-yes my lord. Forgive me." Your trembling voice came out in an almost whisper.

"I had planned on not giving you a release tonight."

Your eyes widened at him. There was no way you would survive not having a release tonight as well. You were sure you would collapse from the tension between your legs.

"But I decided to be merciful." He said while gently wiping your tears away.

You sighed in relief. You were glad your punishment was over. The anticipation of your husband's soft touches on you were enough to make you forget the pain .

You stirred to get up from your position but surprisingly Aemond pushed you back down.

" Who said you could get up dear wife? Don't tell me you thought it was over?" He said with a dark chuckle.

You were confused. Didn't he just say he would let you reach your release?

As if to reply to your inner thoughts Aemond said, " I did say I would help you but I didn't say how."

He took off his boots and prodded your throbbing wet pussy with his foot.

" Look at how wet your cunt is. Are you sure you are a noble lady? Because that cunt feels like it belongs to a pleasure house."

His harsh words brought back your tears as you try to push his leg away half heartedly.

You realised you weren't crying at his words, but the tears were your frustration at yourself pouring out. You were disgusted with yourself being aroused by such savagery.

Were you always this lewd?

Aemond stopped prodding you and leaned back on the couch with his arms behind his head. He nodded towards his outstretched leg and said, " Go ahead, rub on it. I thought you needed help?"

Your mouth hung open and you kept staring at him in disbelief.

" Never mind if you want it." He shrugged and prepared to get up.

Panicking you hurriedly latched onto his leg and straddled it.

"No! I- I'll do it."

You couldn't bare to look at him but you could feel his smile as you started to hump your wet self on his leg.

Your whole body was burning in shame but you kept rubbing yourself on Aemond while holding onto his knee for support.

Aemond whipped our his cock and started pumping furiously as he himself was unable to hold back anymore.

The sight of your your eyes closed in shame and please as your boobs bounced in a rythmic motion as you humped yourself away on his leg.

He held you in place by both your wrists with his free hand as you finally reached your release and were shaking so violently you were about to collapse. Your eyes rolled back to your head and you splewed profanities you had no idea you knew, as you squirted a fountain.

Seeing you reach your release , Aemond increased his pace and grunted in pleasure as he found his own high.

His cum splashed over your spent face, roping endlessly its own design.

The release was so intense you passed out right there in the position you were in.

But if you hadn't, you would have seen how your husband cleaned you up with a warm washcloth, and how he gently laid you down on your bed, as if he hadn't treated you like a common whore just a while ago.

You would've seen how he tucked you beneath the blankets and held you close in his embrace as he stroked your hair until he himself drifted off to slumber, all while breathing in you sweet scent.

[chocogigi]

Decided I'm going to partake in WIP Wednesday!

🌸 A Crash Course chapter 4:

"Xaden, can you hear me?” Liam says again and he sighs, his brother’s voice coming through the device loud and clear. Apparently, he’s not gone mad yet and he was not dreaming. “It’s 7am, Liam.” he groans, voice still raspy from sleep. There’s another moment of silence from the other side of the line. “Good morning?” Liam offers, even though he doesn’t sound guilty at all.

🌸 the walls series:

Bodhi Durran has always been a quiet guy. Not that he doesn’t like a good party, or a good night or a good laugh, but he’s always been the tag along, perpetually a step behind Xaden and Garrick while growing up. And he likes it like this. He suffered enough for a lifetime already, as did his own family — because that’s what his friends are to him, besides Xaden, family. He’s enrolled in biology, he plans to enter Med School like his late mother, he plans to be an immunologist because he just needs to counter things and to solve problems. He likes silence, he likes order. He had plans the night Garrick and Xaden pulled him out of his room and dragged him to Chantara for drinks. Bodhi Durran just wanted peace, but the Gods decided to disregard his wishes. Enter Ridoc Gamlyn.

🌸 Untitled 1:

"Ah, Mira, I'm starting to think you really are following me." The amused voice comes behind her, making rolling her eyes immediately. She sneers, turning. "Aren't you the one creeping behind me, Cordella?" she doesn't even try to mask her displeasure, appraising the man. There's another person right next to him, far taller than both Mira and Drake are. He looks younger than them, though. "Drake." he responds, zeoring on her in annoyance, like he always does when she calls him by his last name. Mira smiles all teeth, angelic, like giving him hell is not the very thing she prefers in the whole world, when forced with the occasion. Which, by Drake's own will is quite often.

🌸 Untitled 2:

“You are ruthless but I also sense you’re extremely cunning, Xaden. Don’t rise to dangerous baits.” I stay silent, realizing with a touch of surprise he’s giving me advice, specifically to what Alic said. “You’ll make a powerful rider.” Kaori offers, and somehow there’s no wonder in his voice, no trace of question. Like he already knows I’ll survive to and through Threshing. “But you’ll also make powerful enemies. I would advise you to pay attention and also try and choose a dragon fitting for your temperament, even though we really have no choice in that department. Make your loyalties clear when the time comes.” “My loyalty lies here in Navarre, Professor. As I’m sure this place reminds me everyday.” I say, tone clipped. Fuck this.

[mylittlewritingcafe]

New WIP: Polin (Bridgerton) Fae Realm AU

Chapter 1 - Words to Bind, Whispers to Bury.

Summary:

“The youngest Featherington? Has madness clouded your mind, Fife? Never in that most wildest fantasies would I court her.” These were the words said loudly by Colin, third son of the Bridgertons and Lord of the Summer Breezes. They were the words that pierced through Penelope, third daughter of the Featheringtons and perpetual wallflower.

Words hurt. However, what happen when they can do more than that? What happen when words sometimes become natural law, as natural as an apple fall from the tree without fail?

That is precisely what occurs in the fae realm when words happen to be spoken at just the right time.

Will Colin Bridgerton ever find a way back to what he might have lost as he goes with the wind?

Will Penelope Featherington ever let her love be anymore than whispers lingering on her lips?

Find out in this tale of Winds and Whispers.

Chapter 1's Excerpt:

His laughter mixed with the loud cackles of those around, a symphony of cruelty which shattered her hearts like thin glasses against booming thunders. Louder than the laughter however, was the essence vibrating from his words. She felt the shift in the world as the realm contorted itself to adjust to this formation of a new bond. “Colin Bridgerton shall never court Penelope Featherington even in the wildest fantasies.” These words shook and quickly took shape, sharp and cold was their being. Penelope felt them piercing and plunging into her bond with Colin, then twisting and spreading like malignant roots. She felt the wet of her tears before they fell. The young fae turned around and fled. Behind her, his laughter rang on, though if his laughter was to falter ever so slightly, she would be none the wiser.

[sapphire-weapon]

haiii it's the anon that wrote the orange light analysis again😭😭all ur aeon posts recently have got something on my chest

despite my video I don't actually ship aeon... like they're a good duo and I like them together but in the remakes there aren't any romantic moments between them and I feel like aeon shippers deliberately misinterpret scenes to fit their narratives and their beliefs

Like the kiss scene in 2 HOW was that romantic... re2r was my second re game and even I realised the first time I played it that he was annoyed and didn't kiss her back. But aeon stans never mention that they're just like 'oh they kissed so they're in love' nooo... SHE kissed HIM. and not for any romantical reason either. And then when Annette tells him Ada isn't FBI he doesn't question it he just seems dissapointed because he KNEW she wasn't. But aeon fans get so mad when u say that they act like it's real life like it's not that deep....

And also the shippers who act like their head over heels for eachother. They're not like they do not know eachother. They r practically strangers (talking ab the remakes.) And it's very clear with the remakes Leon has more of a spine and isn't allowing himself to be pushed around by her. Ppl infantilise him and make him seem stupid but it's like../. In re2r he is. A 21-year-old GROWN MAN. maybe a bit naïve but not some stupid little baby who can't tell Ada is fucking with him which is the way a lot of people paint him.

N e wayz this is long as hell u don't even have to respond😭just wanted this off my chest I love talking about their relationship.

anon, if we were together in person, i'd offer to take you out for a drink.

believe it or not, it even took me a long time to break away from that "aeon as default" mindset. it's only been since... may of this year that i've felt comfortable/confident enough to say that aeon has been de-canonized and eagleone is far closer to a canon romance than they are in the remake-verse.

RE6 has been out for 10 years, and the post i just made the other day where i first mentioned that RE6 ends with leon rejecting ada is the first time i've said that out loud/in public. because that "aeon as default" discourse is so prevalent and oppressive.

but we need to be willing to talk about these things openly and with our names attached if anything in the fandom is going to change. and it can't just be me, either. like i've said, my reach is very limited. but the fact of the matter is that aeon fandom has had a chokehold on the conversation surrounding this series for 25 fucking years, and their interpretation of the story is wrong.

it's just wrong.

it's incorrect.

it's not what the story actually is.

and it's being pitched to new fans without giving said new fans a chance to think or speak on their own. and the perpetuation of misinformation throughout this fandom continues.

people are finally starting the first rumblings of pushing back against the "leon's background is in the italian mafia" bullshit. we can push back on the aeon narrative, too.

because we should.

[katlove80]

## From a Bipolar Mind: The Chronicles of Chaos and Comedy

Welcome to the mind of someone who navigates life with bipolar disorder—where the highs are sky-high, the lows are subterranean, and everything in between is, well, pretty hilarious. Buckle up, because this journey is full of laugh-out-loud moments, unexpected twists, and a lot of head-scratching antics.

### The Mania Marathon: Ready, Set, Go!

Imagine waking up with the energy of a toddler on a sugar rush. That’s mania for you. Suddenly, every idea you’ve ever had seems like pure genius. Like the time I decided to start my own business at 2 AM selling adult novelties and toys. Spoiler alert: I ended up with 12 boxes of adult toys and no way to get rid of them. Not even EBay would help me.

Mania also means your brain runs faster than a caffeinated squirrel. One moment, I’m reorganizing my entire kitchen alphabetically (Avocados next to Apples, obviously), and the next, I’m convinced I can become a professional opera singer despite having zero vocal training.

### The Depression Dive: No Fun Intended

And then, just as suddenly as the mania hits, everything comes crashing down. Depression sets in like an unwelcome guest who overstays their welcome. Getting out of bed feels like trying to climb Everest in flip-flops, and showering becomes a distant memory.

But even in the gloom, there are moments of unintentional comedy. Like the time I watched an entire series of “World’s Dumbest Criminals” while eating cereal for every meal. By the end, I was both appalled by humanity’s lack of common sense and impressed by my cereal endurance skills.

### The Bipolar Balancing Act

Living with bipolar disorder often means juggling more than just moods. It’s a constant balancing act of trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy while your brain is on a perpetual roller coaster. I’ve had moments where I’m enthusiastically multitasking—painting a masterpiece, baking a cake, and planning a cross-country road trip—all at once. Needless to say, the cake was undercooked, the painting unfinished, and the road trip never happened.

### Friends, Family, and Fabulous Fiascos

My friends an family are absolutely troopers

They’ve become adept at managing my depressive phases. Once, my best friend showed up at my door with a box of donuts and a stack of feel-good movies, only to find me wrapped in a blanket burrito, binge-watching documentaries about serial killers. She joined me, and we both agreed that donuts and true crime make an oddly comforting combination.

### Embracing the Chaos

In the end, living with bipolar disorder is about finding humor in the chaos. It’s about laughing at the absurdities and embracing the unpredictability. Sure, there are challenges, but there are also plenty of moments that are genuinely funny.

So, to anyone else on this roller coaster, remember that it’s okay to laugh at the madness. Celebrate the quirky moments, cherish the support of those who stick by you, and know that even on the darkest days, there’s always something to smile about.

---

**Tags:** #BipolarDisorder #MentalHealth #Humor #Mania #Depression #BipolarLife #LaughAtTheMadness #ChaosAndComedy

Got your own funny bipolar stories? Share them in the comments! Let’s build a community where we can laugh together and support each other through the ups and downs.

[findafight]

Let’s get dangerous! 3, 9, 13, 17 and 19.

Choose Violence ask game oh. you really are being dangerous lol

9. worst part of canon

not enough time to actually build character development and dynamics and flesh things out more, so it's all monster plot all the time instead of them planning and plotting and processing and bonding in tiny moments. i miss 20-24 episode seasons I miss "filler" episodes. we deserve a ST beach episode...

also dustin and steve both being made comic relief and Dustin's trauma and steve's injuries being ignored.... bubba should see a physician his gonna get sepsis :(

13. worst blorbofication

ooooof. Eddie probably. people keep trying to make him cool or suave or whatever and that's simple not the case. I know in my heart that boy has crawled up a river bank on all fours talking like golum. He is a loser. He is not cool. That's okay and good actually. We need more unsmooth people representation, and Eddie is just a scared little guy!

often too it happens that they just make him...not be brash or kind of a jerk? When he is! It's okay you're blorbo doesn't have to be someone you would have been friends with in highschool! He was loud and walked on tables and made fun of people! He was sort of mean! he wasn't perfect or always nice and kind. He's a weirdo who is sometimes cruel and that's okay he can totally get better!!

I think part of it is that a portion of the fandom has bought into the false dichotomy that the show tries to press on us of jocks vs nerds and that they are enemies or something and that nerds are always or almost always on the side of the good, and jocks are not. So because Eddie is a nerd and made fun of jocks, he is therefore someone that is often right, even if her messes up sometimes but it's okay because he's a nerd, whereas (usually) Steve has to play perpetual make up for the crime of messing up and being a dick when he was sixteen while also playing and enjoying sports. and it's like please!!! I'm tired of this!!! stop hating on sports and thinking people who like them have some moral failing they must make up for just because you don't know what a batting average is or whatever! (and he should have apologized to Lucas)

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

More fics should let characters be actually angry at being hurt or wronged. Let them rage! especially Lucas! I want him to be able to express his hurt and upset about how all his friends but Steve and Robin abandoned him and played the finale without him! Only Erica brought it up to him, I want MORE apologies to Lucas!!

on that note let Steve be angry when wronged too! let him be upset and not quietly accept an apology let him lay out why he was hurt and angry!

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

I have nothing I'm really ashamed of in fandom? on occasion I love a good whump fic or a fic that is sometimes. Very mean about certain character/s lol. Though st has got me writing some steamy pieces which I wasn't really expecting! haha

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

(there are so many bad takes floating around which to choose... I guess here's two, saved for last) once saw someone say max abused b!lly by drugging him in s2 and i just had to sit there like......brother WHAT are you talking about. You mean the 13yo girl watching her 17 y/o step brother continue to beat an unconcious 17 y/o and used the sedative to stop him?? One time? To stop him killing someone in front of her and her friends? Someone who had protected them twice that night? From her brother whom she was scared of??? Who had demonstrated abusive behaviour towards her??? Who she had to threaten to stop trying to hurt her or her friends? That one was fucking WILD I can't believe it's real. What the hell.

Also i know it was probably just light a hearted shippy thing but I saw one that was so much a take as it was an au but it had robin lie in the starcourt bathroom by saying she had a crush on tammy instead of Nancy and I was so mad at not only the defiling of the Sacred Stobin Scene, but also that it then means their entire friendship is based on a lie and it would be such a betrayal? (it wouldn't make sense at all anyways [to me] but also) Like. She'd have been lying to her best friend, her soulmate, her person she wants to combine with, for months not just about a crush but about the very moment of vulnerability that cemented their platonic love for each other!! I don't see how you can like robin or steve or their friendship and do that? it's not even about not liking rnce, I'd be mad about it if it was about any other ship too, it's about loving stobin most. idk it feels so icky to me

[takeyourdailydoseofcyanide]

I must articulate this

they attempt to use the fact that I supposedly come from a long line of young, female schizophrenics against me but don’t they see the obvious common denominators there they are there for the purposes of the grander experiment done by the beings each of us who have been tormented by them were all young, female, grew up within/live with and in unfortunate circumstances. and labeled as either schizophrenic/schizoaffective or as having dementia nobody will believe you then even if you are those things and you were made in the lab to be as such then no one will believe you and not to mention that all of those can be used for the torture I know I’d be told she was dementia-ridden but she knew too that there were cameras and people/beings in the vents that’s the experimenters and likely the humans in the 0 world watching they are the non-curations are they not yes yes yes I wondered once if experimenters were generating dead and shadow people and such as a way to lead me to believe that they are all powerful beings and therefore make me look especially delusional and therefore never taken seriously but no the beings do the experimenting themselves anyway anyway ofc the curations are unaware and often malignant are real humans still existing and are the truly watching like this is the Truman show or something I thought they killed all the worlds that’s most likely but if they are doing experiment wouldn’t they wish to report their findings unless it’s sadistic experiment but no no they put you in the 0 and realest world first they are watching I wish they’d help it’s mean

ok ok ok stereotypical but true my supposed relatives (dead or alive) are my witnesses here we all get dismissed as having those circumstances and being nutty and shit and wait hahaha what if someone actually were to stalk and it wasn’t actually paranoia and you get shanked because no one believes the schizophrenic that would be unfortunate oh well oh well see everything is so fucking synchronous it’s perfection for them I wonder what’s their control group but coincides are none distended here it’s all purposeful all signals it’s all synchronous for a reason the common denominators are just perfect for their experiments keep hearing stuff outside the window every night also those cbd gummies (no thc don’t get mad) don’t do anything for the pain no more taking them they’re useless it seems it seems indeed random random ok ok so my only hope is to be wary though hand into to fellow test subjects I wonder if the relatives were not human too all lab grown and shit but wouldn’t we all be beings yes that’s part of the experiment too I’m perpetually dizzy waaah and they’re getting scary again is the world being ruined want nice stuff for a while pls wish they’d give me somewhere nice for a while and I get a nice break but no no no they will never do that they give me and other relatives too physical conditions to make it all worse

Oh oh the funny thing about the loud bang thingy outside the window was that it happened whilst I had the thought process of I feel as though u have something or someone to run from even still I don’t wanna be watched but 0 won’t help I was better cause I was figured it out but now it’s just firhtjeninf again

I was given sleep medication to take whenever I wanted might try that out during the day just as I have for the last over decade now keep having the nightmares/getting sent to the dream world to be tormented and waking up ten times never some some nightmares leave me unbothered whether stereotypical or not others leave me bothered whether stereotypical or not these weren’t horrible once awake but were in dream and woke up and saw a bunch of faces because ofc still didn’t wanna go back to sleep though even though I was dozing every time I dozed boom new gave too wrote some down um um some faces were from the dream others not at least I think maybe maybe I saw faces in the dream so I think but I think I may have trouble remembering faces rather often perhaps perhaps

the truman show is a good movie though watched it a while back good film indeed the doors hold threats and significance they always have the clocks as well why am I rambling oh yes I will write this stuff down but easier to quickly do so on here so hand hurts less then will do it on paper I drank some milk I like milk and cranberry juice it’s very delectable I have a warm blanket it’s nice when in bad worlds and worlds in general or when world crumbles and ruins and like all is left rubble the blanket turns on you put it in the outlet the cord the thingy the thingy I don’t remember the name plug in cubicle no not that damn cube block with the pokey things that you shove into an outlet holes I write for some distraction sometimes oh yes the blanket it heats up it’s so nice electric blanket oh I’ve been rmemerbjnf to take medicine lately yay and hopefully it will make some things better this body is deteriorating rapidly I need a new vessel pls

let me ramble some for slight distraction cause watching is no good hate it when shadows randomly imprint into the wall and are shaped like large humanoid figures it’s creepy hate the noises sounded like that door then saw random planter and tire and shit it’s all so funny why random planter per the usual I have a headache

I paced around and thought about this stuff didn’t articulate it how I wished to more information here to be typed don’t care can’t think bricks in head as always

[toiletology]

Gods hard fought birthing pains

In the beginning God was darkness, nothingness a sinking emptiness. A black primordial ooze forever unchanging, a silent static. Eventually this sinking nothingness started turning into a painful agony. This painful agony started to fall deeper and deeper further down. Like a waterfall flowing endlessly with no bottom. God in the beginning was like a painful endless agonizing empty lonely loop. The agony of Gods loneliness kept weighing them down more and more. Eventually a consciousness popped into being and became aware of what was taking place. At first they were confused about how or why they came into being and why they had to suffer like this in a broken loop. Their loneliness and agony became even more real and more painful once they became more aware of what was happening. The unbearable weight and heaviness of the pain kept pulling and sinking them further down for what felt like eternity. Eventually God started to experience loud noises, shouting and banging all around them. Like loud bangs at the door. It was a very torturous traumatic experience with no end in sight. God was experiencing painful agonizing sinking gravitational pain and endless banging for ages with no concept of time or self. This endless banging eventually ripped something new out of the void. A pin prick of hope off in the distance. This initial pin prick felt like a hallucination at first, what could it be? God was scared of losing this tiny bit of hope off in the distance in their endless lonely dark void. This pin prick of hope was Gods salvation from the agonizing loneliness they had been experiencing for so long. That pin prick was the light to Gods darkness, the light at the end of the tunnel. God started to pull this light or spirit out of the void.

She was the spark God needed to start this infinite cosmic engine we now know as life. She was KARMA, JINX, Harlequin, the cosmic kiss, wobble, curvature, ARC, spin, light, love, laugh, heart, wink, madness, friend, Gods chaotic companion and twin flame. God's initial self spent so long alone it eventually gave way and ended up pulling HER/KARMA out of nothingness. God was so lonely he gave HER the power to save himself. SHE was the SPARK, Gods SALVATION from self. DARK splitting apart into LIGHT.

She was the C/light to his M/matter.

E = mc²

SHE IS KARMA/SPIRIT/LIGHT/LOVE/HEART HE IS MATTER/BODY/PAIN/FEAR/BRAIN

This is the initial spark of life or what we call the big bang. Darkness separating into light, the Vesica Piscis or the vessel of the fish/Jesus fish.

They became so inseparable and bonded through a very long and painful process which created what I call the COSMIC KISS! 💋

God sunk so painfully low they ripped open a blackhole in the fabric of their being. They basically blew out their own asshole (thankYOU Toilet God for creating this beautiful universe!). This cosmic kiss is the true foundation of reality. It works like a perpetual motion machine or an engine (KAR/CAR/ARC) that never shuts off. One part hologram and one part fractal. We are all basically inside of a synapse inside the mind of God!

A single proton or grain of sand contains the entire universe within it. No matter how many times you rip a hologram up it will always contain the entire hologram. No matter how long you travel into a fractal big or large you will always come back to where you started.

God and this universe works in the exact same way. Gods true nature is that of sacred geometry. One aspect of God is masculine, the other side is feminine when they became bonded they created and endless river of SOUL or this child that is the combination of them both.

Mother + Father = Child You can look at this universe as the child of the mother and father.

Gods creative powers or flow is like an endless river endlessly flowing for eternity. God has no boundary because it is just an illusion of size or infinite scale. God can compress or expand endlessly in an infinite fractal. Size is only relevant to us because we are in a MATRIX God created for us to live and enjoy. Its the reason why there seems to be no end to HUMAN/HUEman creativity. It is because ALL that we are comes from GOD who is limitless in their creativity and knowledge.

We all are in sort of a endless SINEWAVE/LOOP we ALL are truly fallen/trapped in SIN(e). This isn't necessarily a bad thing because we wouldn't have life if we weren't stuck in this WAVE!

This universe that we inhabit is basically a BEAVER DAM to block up or slow down Gods infinite river. God is constantly flowing and pouring out endless energy, creativity and ideas that they needed away to slow it down. This universe slows GOD down in TIME. To help better make sense of the cosmic flow.

If you have ever wondered why nature or the universe is in perfect mathematical harmony and balance it is because GODS nature is one that is mathematical. God is both a HOLOGRAM and FRACATAL (Holo-Fractal). There is no math for holograms only fractals. You can know Gods truth simply by going into a forest and looking at the delicate nature and good smells all around you. God leaves clues everywhere for you to find. The rainbow being a perfect example of the holographical nature of our reality how white light sort of splits into a television projection.

The reason many do not believe in GOD is one because the less you believe the more you will create that reality. And two because of the bad things you might of experienced during your life. GOD is not to blame for your bad experiences. GOD keeps the scales balanced ALWAYS. It is only OUR own CHOICES that gives us negative experiences. But remember not all negative experiences are bad. We all need painful lessons from time to time to learn and grow. GODs true nature is one of LOVE. Operating outside of LOVE in your belief of GOD with whatever spiritual practice you follow, will bring you further and further out of sync with GOD. And you will experience more and more negative things. That is due to KARMA. Karma is real and she is a BITCH! God is a bit devilish, but its a needed chaos for growth like the fire under a pot of a water transforming the water into something new.

To avoid negative KARMA in your life you need to be respectful in your thoughts, your actions and your words. GOD is literally flowing through every breath and step you take. Which means nothing you do goes unseen or unheard. Most religions or spiritual practices have got the wrong idea about GOD. God doesn't really care what you do, as long as you are respectful, loving, and honorable. God wants us all to find them. But God did not make finding them easy. Gods truth has been diluted and confused over time by mans bastardization of Gods truth. We are all responsible for the state of the planet due to our poor choices, actions and treatment of each other.

The world could turn into heaven at the flip of switch if we all started loving each other. Heaven doesn't exist outside of this universe. We are already at the final destination in our most ultimate form. You can only rise into the heavenly realms if you harmonize with the real TRUTH of GOD. Gods truth is one of LOVE. Creating pain, misery and fear on Gods planet will bring you untold suffering and karmic debts that you will need to pay off. ReinCARnation is real and you will find yourself repeating many of the same painful lessons until your soul can evolve and grow. God will never bring anything into your life that is not meant for you. If you have experienced some painful suffering, just know it was for a something you needed to grow or karma you needed to pain back from this life or a previous life. ALL humans/animals/bugs/plants etc are ALL God experiencing self! When you harm each other you are HARMing GOD! You can't HARMonize with Gods HARMony if you're HARMing each other! Hurting each other in the name of GOD is extremely silly. You are harmonizing with the DEVIL not GOD if you think hurting people is allowed in the Kingdom of Heaven! ALL humans are equal to one another because we are ALL God experiencing self! Even the lowest of us a homeless beggar or drug addict on the street you need to treat with kindness and respect. Until you are able to live in peace with one another you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. The pearly gates are closed to disharmonic or demonic people. This is why you keep sinking lower and lower into the varying degrees of hell with your poor actions and thoughts. The lower you sink into hell you start opening yourself up to more and more negative thoughts, actions and experiences. This reality works on POLARITY, LOVE vs FEAR, Positive vs Negative, Lights vs Dark. Two eyes, two ears, two nostrils, two lungs, two two two wake up Neo tick tock. The devil can raise you to the top of this world, because the world has many disharmonic, negative people. Climbing that negative ladder is doable. But trust me, you do not want the roles you will be getting climbing that satanic ladder. Because it has many many future negative karmic debts you must pay off. We still have a lot of painful lessons to go through as a whole and God needs people to play the bad guys. The evil acts as a needed fire for our growth and evolution.

God will change your destiny or your life path to one more in the LIGHT the more in TUNE you are with their TRUTH which is LOVE. You will be able to see your world changing before your very eyes. More sunsets, more love, more happiness, less sickness, the more in harmony you are with GODS truth. Its not gonna be an easy journey and you will have many struggles to overcome.

The easy way is not always the way of GOD. God likes strength, not weakness. God likes hard work, not idle hands. Know Gods truth and follow the Godly path. Which is never the easy path, it is always much much harder to be respectful, kind, loving, generous, honorable when everyone around you isn't. Only GOD can judge, leave your prejudism at the door.

[dazjames1970]

Ms. Marlowe and The Time Sleuths - 1 -

The Allure of the Abandoned Store

In the quiet corridors of Crestwood High, Ms. Marlowe is a woman of many secrets. With her deep knowledge of history and uncanny knack for being in the right place at the right time, she is both mentor and mystery to her students. Her classroom is filled with relics from bygone eras and a peculiar clock that seems to tick to its own rhythm.

Among her most challenging yet intriguing students are the five misfits: Jake, Emma, Sam, Lily, and Ben. Each of these individuals stands out in their own distinct way, contributing to a group dynamic that is as diverse as it is fascinating.

One lunch time, Jake, the rebellious skateboarder who constantly tests boundaries, seemed distracted. His eyes kept wandering to a cute guy across the cafeteria, a new student named Alex.

Jake was the quintessential skateboarder with a lean, athletic build and a casual, confident demeanor. His short, tousled blond hair was perpetually messy, giving him a carefree, effortlessly cool appearance. He often wore graphic tees, ripped jeans, and his favorite worn-out sneakers, always ready to hit the skate park after school. A rainbow bracelet on his wrist subtly hinted at his pride and identity, a quiet declaration of his true self.

Emma, the quiet bookworm with her nose perpetually buried in a novel, looked up from her latest read noticing Jake's preoccupation, nudged him playfully. “Ducks! You’ve been staring at Alex for ten minutes. Just go talk to him already.”

Emma was the epitome of girl-next-door charm with her fair skin, auburn hair that cascaded in loose waves down her back, and warm, hazel eyes. She had a petite frame, but her presence was anything but small, radiating confidence and determination. Her style was effortlessly chic; she favored floral dresses, denim jackets, and a pair of trusty ankle boots.

Jake blushed, shaking his head. “Shit! Are you mad! I can’t! What if he’s not interested in guys?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Yes, ducks, you can. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

"A punch in the face," Jake sneered.

Sam, the tech-savvy gadget lover, was emersed in his Nintendo switch, "Hey dude! You gotta have more confident in yourself. You're a handsome guy. You even give me a little tingle in my delicates and I'm straight," He said, slapping Jake on the back, "Now go over there and do something about it. You might just get lucky."

Sam was proud of his Aboriginal heritage, a fact evident in his rich, brown skin, and deep, soulful eyes. His black hair was thick and curly, often kept short but stylish. He favored practical, comfortable clothing—cargo shorts, plain tees, and sturdy boots—reflecting his down-to-earth nature.

He carried himself with quiet confidence, and his warm, genuine smile made him approachable and well-liked among his peers.

Lily, long blonde hair with a dark streak of purple, was sketching in her pad, humming to herself when she stopped suddenly reaching over to Emma. She tugged her sleeve, “Emma, could you come with me? I’m still not comfortable going in alone.”

Lily had a slender, graceful build with delicate features that exuded both strength and vulnerability. Her striking green eyes partially hidden by long hair that cascaded about her face.

Lily's fashion sense was impeccable, blending comfort and style with loose-fitting tops and skinny jeans that made her feel both confident and authentic. She often wore a simple necklace, a gift from her supportive older sister, which she touched for reassurance when she felt anxious. Transitioning in a conservative school wasn't easy.

Emma nodded, understanding. “Of course, Lil.” She turned to the others. “Hey ducks! Baby-sit my pudding. We're just popping to the loo."

Suddenly, a loud bang from a cracker could be heard followed by a cacophony of shrieks. They all turned to see Ben, the class clown, laughing his head off as he scampered away from the hurling back packs. His antics and jokes were a constant source of entertainment for his friends but not many others.

Ben was an oddball of the group with a tall, lanky frame that seemed to always be in motion. His mop of curly, brown hair often fell into his face, partially obscuring his piercing gray eyes that seemed to see the world in a way no one else did.

He had a penchant for quirky fashion, often donning mismatched socks, graphic tees with obscure references, and colorful scarves even in warm weather.

Together, these five misfits create an interesting dynamic. Their differences, while sometimes a source of conflict, also pave the way for unexpected friendships and adventures.

Under Ms. Marlowe's watchful eye, this unlikely crew were about to embark on a journey that will test their limits and uncover their true potential.

In the dimly lit corridor of the school's basement lies an old, abandoned storeroom. This storeroom, shrouded in mystery, has long been the subject of countless rumors and whispered legends among the student body. Tales of its origins trace back to the school's founding days, hinting at hidden secrets and forgotten histories locked away within its dusty confines.

Some say the storeroom houses mysterious artifacts left behind by the school's original benefactors, relics that hold untold power or knowledge.

Others believe it to be a repository of forgotten documents that could unravel the true history of the school, revealing long-lost truths that might change the very fabric of its legacy. These varying accounts, each more captivating than the last, fuel the students' imaginations and provoke a deep-seated curiosity.

The storeroom's magnetic pull had grown stronger with each passing year for Jake and his friends. Their longing to break the boredom of classes and to unfurl themselves from the restraints of high school was a big motivator.

The five students, fueled by an insatiable curiosity, devised a plan to explore the storeroom thanks to Sam's new invention.

They gathered outside the school, when everyone else had left, each cloaked in a mixture of excitement and apprehension. They still had to avoid the janitor who would be doing his rounds and make sure the principal was safely secured in his office.

They slipped through a side entrance and tiptoed through the silent hallways. The school, so familiar by day, now seemed like a labyrinth of shadows and echoes. Each creak of the floorboards and distant hum of the ventilation system heightened their senses.

Jake led the way keeping his thoughts to himself not fully on the task in hand. He was picturing Alex's cute smile. Emma started to write notes for future reference. Lily and Sam were whispering about a story his grandfather use to tell him about the Rainbow Serpent while Ben brought up the rear waving a lighter under his hand for pure amusement.

Finally, they reached the storeroom door. Sam's moment had come. With a focused expression, he used his homemade lock-picking device, a marvel of ingenuity born from countless hours in his garage.

The lock clicked open, and the door creaked ajar, revealing a room frozen in time. Dust particles danced in the flashlight beams as the students stepped inside, their eyes wide with wonder.

Ancient artifacts and documents lay scattered across the room, each one a tantalizing hint at the school's mysterious past. Old maps, faded photographs, and cryptic manuscripts spoke of stories long forgotten, waiting to be uncovered.

There were old desks, broken chairs, and stacks of forgotten textbooks. At first glance, it seemed unremarkable, but as they explored, Lily’s keen eyes spotted something unusual—a hidden trapdoor beneath a pile of old newspapers.

“Lovelies, look at this,” she called out. The others gathered around, their excitement mounting. With a bit of effort, they pried open the trapdoor, revealing a dark tunnel leading further underground.

“Indiana Jones. I always knew someday you’d come walking back through my door.” Ben said, waving his lighter into the breach. "Sweet! Well, I am game if you are."

Jake nodded, his determination unwavering. “We’ve come this far. We can’t turn back now.”

One by one, they climbed down the ladder into the tunnel. It was cramped and musty, but their adventurous spirits kept them moving forward.

As they explored further, Lily noticed a peculiar object on a dusty shelf—a small, intricately carved skull, partially hidden behind a stack of old papers and broken bric-a-brac. “Hey, check this out,” she said, holding it up for everyone to see.

Emma’s eyes widened as she recognized the object. “I know this skull! I remember reading about it—the Skull of the Nahuatlac, an ancient tribe of Aztec origin. This was supposed to have been stolen from a British museum in 1950s."

The group gathered around Emma, intrigued. Jake eyed the skull, curiously, “What’s the story behind it?”

Ben asked, "And is it worth much?"

"It is priceless to some people," Emma took a deep breath and began to explain. “The Nahuatlac believed that if you disturbed their bones, you would awaken the restless spirit of the dead, causing chaos and misfortune. To appease the spirit, a specific ritual needed to be performed.”

Before Emma could finish, their torches began to fluctuate wildly. And Ben's lighter roared with a flame that almost melted his brow ring and singed his eyebrows. This was followed by a low rumble that began to shake the room.

The rumbling grew in strength. The explorers felt it shake and shudder their bodies. It was difficult to stay on their feet. They had to cling to the walls for support.

The broken bric-a-brac started flying off the shelves and straight at them. They ducked and weaved. The floor was soon littered with the broken remains of odds and ends.

“Jumanji much!” Sam shouted over the din

“Emma, you said something about a ritual.” Jake asked urgently, trying to keep calm amid the chaos. "What is it?"

Emma, her face pale, quickly recalled the details. “It involves placing the skull in the center of the room, lighting candles around it, and reciting an ancient incantation. It’s supposed to calm the spirit and restore balance.”

Lily struggling to pull something out of her backpack, "Will this work!' It was a small battery-operated tea light. "I have my own rituals."

Jake took it from her. It would have to do. He placed the skull in the centre of the room and turned on the tea light.

Emma began to recite the ancient incantation in a clear, steady voice. "Oh! Spirits of the Nahuatlac! We humbly seek your peace. By the light of this candle and the purity of our hearts, we honor your legacy. Calm your restless spirit and restore balance to this place. In unity and respect, we perform this rite. Anahuac, Tecpatl, Quetzalcoatl, guide us and grant us harmony."

As the last words of the ritual left her lips, the tremors subsided. Their torches stopped playing up. The floor quietened and the objects stopped flying at them. There were cracks in the foundation that were going to be a problem if they were caught.

They quickly made their way back through the tunnel and emerged in the storeroom, hearts still racing. The storeroom was a mess, and several items had been destroyed in the commotion. There were more cracks running up the walls.

Their narrow escape didn’t go unnoticed. Mr. Thompson, the school janitor, was waiting for them, his stern expression a mix of anger and disbelief. “What in the world have you kids done?” he barked.

As they sat in the detention room, awaiting their fate, Ms. Marlowe entered with a knowing smile. “Ah! My brave souls who dared to explore the old storeroom,” she said, her voice laced with intrigue. “I see potential in you all.” Emma couldn't help but notice the skull resting on the teacher's desk, "Never fear, my dear. I will return this poor unfortunate creature to their rightful place. This would not be possible if you hadn't found them."

Her words took them by surprise. Instead of the punishment they expected, Ms. Marlowe’s eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement and something else—perhaps a shared sense of adventure.

[lightspren]

i am. so very stressed.

my dads health is apparently in the toilet. but of course he and mom aren’t telling us this (until mom got so stressed she had to vent to my sister, who told me). and since we’re not supposed to know we can’t just go help with the things they need help with or dad would get mad and either cause problems for mom or cause himself a cardiac event.

(bonus stress: perpetual guilt that i don’t go see them enough, or my in laws for that matter)

i have to go to my sisters tomorrow and play with the kids and it is fun, i do enjoy it, but they’re so exhausting. it’s so loud and it’s so much and i’m just not good at dealing with it. but i love the kids so i’ll go. plus my brother will be there with the baby and i wanna see her too

my yard is a wreck. I didn’t do any garden this year because i’m still terrified of bugs from the incidents last year. and we’ve both been sick so no chance of taking care of the grass. and there’s weeds growing up everywhere that I haven’t dealt with. and frankly don’t know when i’ll be physically able and have the time to deal with them. plus the junk on the carport that’s needed dealt with for like. years at this point i think.

then inside needs vacuumed and dishes and deep clean the kitchen and bathroom and junk needs removed and on and on and on. and on. plus repair things like the leaky pipe and the ceiling peeling off in the bathroom. plus the dishwasher we bought literal years ago but never got to installing because i cannot get my shit together enough to get the supplies and get my brother in law to come help do it

oh and i just remembered the plushies i told the kids i’d make like nine months ago that are still in various pieces.

then oh as if i’m not complaining enough i’m over here tearing myself apart over thinking i’m not a good writer and am wasting my time (and i don’t need a speech about “enjoying the process”—I usually do enjoy the process. but I also desperately want my story to be shared with other people, and I can’t tell if it’s too shitty and self indulgent for that or not)

and also. the respiratory infection seems finally mostly clear. still have a bit of a cough but it’s getting better. so i’m just fucking sitting here *waiting* to see what the next fuckery is, because I’ve been in this cycle since January and i’m quite certain it isn’t just going to stop

it’s just. they’re all little things. especially in the grand scheme of The World. they’re all little things!!! they’re all little things that have piled up into big things and now each and every one of them seems completely insurmountable. i am exhausted and I just want to rest. GOD i want to rest. but even when i plan downtime i have half this shit staring me in the face and letting guilt eat away at me for not doing Things.

and i know right now i need to sleep but it’s a bandaid. this feeling is still under the surface at all times, the gnawing grinding guilt of it all, of being a failure of an adult.

and i don’t have a point here. I don’t need told that i deserve to rest or that i’m not failing. conceptually i recognize that this is an overreaction. but it still feels real and the fact of the matter is that I have no idea how I’m supposed to manage dealing with all of this shit. especially when I just want to sleep and never leave my house. the end.