#this applies to fictives too

[maxbeta360]

Did you know that fictionkin falls under the alterhuman umbrella? Did you also know that you should be a little more normal about fictionkin?

[diabolocracy]

I was lurking Reddit for a laugh and came across the general paraphrased sentiment, "Proship fictionkin make no sense because if fiction doesn't affect reality how are they fictionkin?"

The answer is very simple, granted I can only answer for myself:

The blorbos I make do terrible things in writing and art aren't one-to-one representations of 'me' as I was in a past life, even if they are vaguely based on me as I was in a past life.

Alternatively (in at least one case): those things happened but I don't have exotrauma I have exo-wowie-that-was-hot-:3. (Mind you, in the case that I am vaguely referencing, I was the one who made it happen multiple times and found it hot as it was unfolding--as the 'victim'.)

That isn't meant to discount those who end up with exotrauma, mind you. I have a kintwin who can't look at certain ships (one of which I happen to like, personally) due to differences in our past lives/canons. Even so, we're still friends. It's understandable and I don't bring it up in conversation because he set that boundary. It's that's fucking easy, folks!

I'm also able to recognize that in this life these characters are just fictional. If I make a terrible thing happen to [name], it isn't actually happening to [name] (unless you're of the mind that creating an idea = that event is unfolding in a different universe; or that ideas = channeled events from different universes; basically 'fictional reality' wherein stories create new realities or are channeled from alternate realities in some way - something akin to 'fictons' from The Number of the Beast by Robert A. Heinlein; a very good book btw, especially for you incest lovers, lol).

Essentially: the characters I'm playing with? They aren't me even if they are modeled after 'me', nor are they those I once knew. What I do to them, or make them to do each other, has zero effect on me in the present or 'me' in the past.

The fan creations that I or others create relating to my kintypes has only the effect I allow it to have upon me and I can recognize in 99.9999% of cases that writing or art or headcanon or whatever isn't about me even if it pertains to my kintype. That very minuscule percent otherwise is created by me, for me.

I've observed that that differentiation is a challenge for some to make. Personally I find it silly, 'cause like, who the fuck are you? No one knows you. They aren't targeting you. They're making shit about the blorbo from their shows. Not you.

Bluh bluh bluh. I've lost my train of thought. Bye.

[moogghost]

my ass just saw the most ridiculous shit and i'm complaining about it on main instead of my plural blog i'm only a little sorry

anyways you can't just fucking go "pls ask before being a fictive of one of my ocs thanks" FICTIVES DON'T FUCKING WORK LIKE THAT NORMALLY. MOST SYSTEMS CAN'T FUCKING CONTROL WHO GETS INTROJECTED SHUT THE EVER LIVING FUCK UP

you can ask not to know about it or be told but you can't just fucking go "oh well you have to ask me first before you form or decide-" LIKE FUCKING HUH???? DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW NONSENSICAL YOU SOUND. DO YOU KNOW HOW LITTLE CONTROL THERE IS OVER NEW HEADMATES FORMING. DO YOU KNOW.

sincerely. a system who did not fucking ask for aubrey omori to be the one primarily helping me keep my shit together at work but here we are

(also adding my awesome disclaimer that there are always exceptions to this bc no system is exactly the same however in most cases systems don't have complete control over what kinds of headmates form so this is such a. bold thing to say to say the least lmfao)

[cannibalistic-deer]

It baffles me that I've seen people say "Alastor is canonically sex and touch repulsed" as a reason people "shouldn't" be shipping Alastor sexually/romantically.

Why assume that the sex repulsion applies to every relationship in his life, permanently? Some aces are sex favorable, or may develop more favorable feelings for specific people, even if otherwise repulsed.

And the same applies to touch repulsion. That's such a weak argument. Alastor canonically, and very clearly, is okay with or possibly even enjoys touch in specific situations. He does seem to be touch repulsed in general, but again, there are specific people it doesn't apply to. (Rosie is the best example, since with anyone else it is more brief, but Rosie touches him, and is the one initiating that, frequently.)

All types of attraction, or comfort levels with different manners of affection, are fluid. This isn't ever an excuse to invalidate real people who are telling you their identities, but it does mean that assumptions really can't be made about what a person would or wouldn't do.

And this type of thinking is what really leads to invalidating real people, because even if you think "being asexual means never having sexual attraction," and then an ace person shares that they think they might have experienced sexual attraction at some point but still identify as ace... then you have to be open to that. You cannot put sexualities in boxes. This applies to all sexualities.

I'm a fictive of Alastor myself, and I am sex repulsed, so I understand the discomfort, but I also understand that people are not harming any real, living person by making fanworks where Alastor is having sex. It also doesn't mean they're inherently rejecting his asexuality.

If people want to ignore Alastor being aroace completely, that's different. Alastor is canonically aroace (or asexual at minimum), and he always will be. But jumping to conclusions about what people think because you're too naive and stubborn to understand that sexuality and attraction doesn't fit into tidy little boxes is harmful and is a way of thinking that must be changed.

This became longer than intended because I was mostly thinking about the "Alastor is touch repulsed to everyone!" claims some people make, which are frankly incompatible with canon. But the rest of this post is also true.

[zuko-always-lies]

Historically Accurate Polyamory and ATLA?

One thing that's inexplicably on my mind right now is that East Asian royal families were generally historically polygamous, so if you wanted to have Azula or Zuko or King Kuei or some other Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom royal or noble take multiple partners, that would actually be reasonably historically accurate. It seems like the Fire Nation royalty has avoided polygamy in recent decades (or you would expect the royal family to be much, much bigger), but isn't the point at the end of the series that they are supposed to return to old ways?

Interestingly, some of this applies to the Water Tribes as well. Although I don't know nearly as much about this subject as I know about East Asian royalty and I don't want to say anything too confidentially, I know some Inuit groups sometimes practiced polygamy. I also know that some groups sometimes practiced "spouse exchanges" where two couples would temporarily exchange spouses in order to create fictive kinship between them. Although the SWT is not identical to historical Inuit groups and the NWT in particular seems very, very different with it's city and state, I think you could definitely justify polyamory being in the tradition of both Water Tribes.

While the Earth Kingdom, the Fire Nation, and the Water Tribes might have traditions of polygyny (where one man marries multiple women), the Air Nomads might have a very different traditions. They are inspired at least in part by Tibetan Buddhism, and Tibet has it's own traditions of plural marriage. Historically, the most common type was fraternal polyandry, in which two or more brothers would take the same wife. However, apparently polygyny, conjoint marriages, and of course monogamous marriages were also historically acceptable in Tibetan society. Of course, there were specific economic reasons why fraternal polyandry made sense in Tibet, which might not apply to the Air Nomads and we really don't get a sense of how their marriages and family life might look like, but it's another reminder not to force their culture into "Western marriage norms, circa 2007."

With all the various forms of plural marriage that would theoretically be culturally appropriate, I think you can culturally justify just about any form of polyamory you are interested in writing.

[holdmytesseract]

Could you please do tom x reader where they are friends to lovers? Maybe the pretend boyfriend that turns real? Smutty and fluffy?

Hide & Seek

Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Summary: Tom asks you to accompany him to Ben's birthday party. On the way there, you get stuck in traffic. A misunderstanding reveals long harboured feelings and things come how they had to come...

Warnings: mutual pining, thirst, fluff, jelousy? a misunderstanding, smuttish/suggestive stuff

Word Count: 3,1k

a/n: You guys wanted it and I am a woman of my words, so... Here it is! 🫡

I hope you like what I wrote for you @huntress-artemiss . 🥰 And I hope that everybody else enjoys it of course, too!

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @smolvenger @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @evelyn-kingsley @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @lokiforever @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @crimson25 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @coldnique

Masterlist °☆• Hiddles Masterlist

You heard the familiar 'ding' sound of your phone; announcing the arrival of a new message. With a hairpin pinned between your teeth and one hand in your hair, you quickly scooted over to your little make-up table, on which you had left your phone. Tapping on the screen, you immediately saw the message popping up.

'I'm here, darling. Are you ready? x'

You smiled, fixated your hair and quickly unlocked your phone; texting back.

'Almost. :) Gimme five mins, Tommy. x'

Not wasting any time, you applied some decent make-up, gave yourself a once over in the full-length mirror, grabbed the things you'd need and made your way towards the main door of your small, cosy house.

You had promised Tom - your best friend since you were teenagers, to accompany him to the birthday party of Ben. He didn't want to go alone - and you couldn't say no, of course. You never could say no when it came to Tom. Never. You'd anything for him. He was one of the most important people in your life. He was your sunshine on a rainy day. Your lighthouse in the raging storms. A safe haven to which you could always return.

A lot of people told you that this friendship wasn't going to last. After all, Tom was an actor. A famous actor. And you were just... you. But you proved them all wrong. The friendship lasted; survived every sharp turn, bump and crash on the way. A deep bond was formed; stronger than everything you ever experienced - and yet you were just best friends. Sure there had been opportunities to take this friendship to another level and turn it into something more, but neither of you took the opportunity.

You couldn't deny, though, that you had developed strong feelings for the handsome Brit over the years. Romantic feelings. How could somebody not fall for a man like Tom? He was a charming, kind, funny, talented, handsome gentleman with a heart of pure gold. You didn't dare to confess your feelings, because you didn't want to lose your best friend. Better have him as a best friend in your life than not at all, right?

So, the years flew by. Boyfriends came and boyfriends went. Just like with Tom. It was a heart wrenching pain whenever you met Tom's new girlfriend - and you hated it, but what were you supposed to do? All you wanted for him was happiness; but neither of you seemed to find happiness - at least when it came down to romantic relationships...

Another 'ding' of your mobile ripped you out of your thoughts. Shaking your head softly and trying to focus again; you opened the door and stepped out - only to almost stumble back inside.

A soft, cool breeze brushed past you; swirling your beige dress around your knees. The smell of rain hit your nose and some dark clouds hung in the sky; shielded the sun from shining down on you.

That wasn't what took your breath away, though. It was Tom, who stood not far away from you. Just a few meters; legs crossed, leaning casually against his black Jaguar with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his suit trousers.

Speaking of trousers... He was wearing a dark blue suit. Black dress shoes shone against the wet pavement; suit trousers hugging his long legs and hips snugly - held together by a black leather belt. The matching dark blue shirt wasn't any less tight; tailored perfectly for his lean yet strong upper body and forcing the small buttons to hold on for dear life. A tie and suit jacket in the exact same colour completed his look.

You swallowed a thick lump; had a hard time to control yourself and the rapidly beating heart within your chest. Luckily, Tom wasn't looking your way and didn't notice your distress. His gaze was directed to the street as he watched the cars drive by. The position showed off his ridiculously beautiful face; sharp jawline, high cheekbones - peppered with soft and fuzzy looking facial hair of his three-day beard. Tom's wild, blonde-brown curls had gotten so long; a hairsbreadth away from touching his broad shoulders. He looked like a prince, straight out of a fairytale book; combined with the perfect image of a photo shoot.

You bit your lip painfully hard; trying desperately to suppress the moan which threatened to slip past your lips.

It was insanely hot - and Tom didn't even notice the impact this had on you.

"Hey, Tommy," you finally greeted him; attracting his attention. Sure, you could've stared longer and admire the fine man he was, but you didn't want him to accidentally look and notice...

His head whipped around towards you; baby blues meeting your Y/E/C ones. "Hello, darling." A smile spread across his face, as he made his way over to you; giving you a hug. The hugs he gave his other friends didn't last quite as long as the hugs he gave you... You just didn't notice.

"Are you ready?" You nodded; smiling. "I was born ready. You should know that by now." You loved to tease him from time to time. Tom just chuckled; shaking his head. "I won't start now to recount the times you weren't ready. Let's go." You just giggled and followed your best friend to the car.

Being the gentleman the Brit was, he held the door open for you to sit inside his Jaguar. Once you were both seated, Tom started the engine and drove off towards the party.

Unfortunately, was the traffic on this fine Friday evening very bad; causing the both of you to get stuck. Like... Really stuck. Everything stood still. The little highway you were driving on was closed.

"Ugh, great... Now we'll be surely late to the party..." Tom gave you an apologetic look. "Apologies, Y/N/N... I should've taken the other route when I had the chance. Now it's too late... Can you text Ben?" He asked you, handing you his phone; gaze fixated on the cars in front of him. You shook your head, "No need to apologise, Tommy. You couldn't know. But yeah, I'm gonna text him." and unlocked Tom's phone as if it was your own. Not that you knew each other's password by heart... "Thank you, darling."

You tapped on WhatsApp, searched Ben's contact and entered the chat. Of course you tried hard to not read the last messages he received and sent to give your best friend some privacy, but when your eyes caught a glimpse of a text just above the text box you were writing your text in, you couldn't help but to look. You knew it was wrong, but before you were able to stop yourself, it was already too late and your gaze wandered...

Ben: So... You're gonna take her finally home then, right??

Tom: What, I- Ben stop that. I... I can't just do that. I don't think she'd want that... Me...

Ben: Friend... Are you kidding me? It's obvious she wants you.

Tom: You, uh, think so?

Ben: Know so. Shoot your shot, man, before it's too late...

You didn't have to read more. Swallowing hard, you stared at the messages for a moment. You knew exactly who Tom and Ben were obviously talking about... Chloe. A woman Tom had met on set a few months back. She was - well, is one of the costume designers and therefore saw Tom quite often. Someday, they started to talk during a break and well... According to Tom the sparks had been flying. He had told his best friend everything, of course - while you wished he hadn't. You tried to be happy for him - like you always did when he met a new woman, but... As much as you tried, your head never could win the battle against your heart. It was an undefeatable opponent. A invulnerable fortress.

You never met Chloe - and yet you despised her wholeheartedly. It wasn't fair, of course, but love had turned you into a monster.

"Y/N? Hey, Y/N/N."

You flinched and snapped out of your thoughts as Tom's soft velvet voice urged to your ears. "Is everything alright?" You blinked, nodded, "Yeah, sure. Sorry, I, uh, just drifted off." and sent the text. Giving him a fake smile, you exited the app and handed him his phone back. "Are you sure?" "Yep. Everything's good, Tommy."

You hated to lie to him, but you couldn't just tell him the truth now, could you?

'Hey, Tommy, I'm sorry but I spied on your texts and saw that one message, saying that you are going to obviously shag that bitch Chloe and now I'm kinda jealous, because it should be me instead!'

Nope, certainly not. But you also couldn't shake that thought of. It occupied you. A lot. Your brain thought about it non-stop; causing your heart to crack and shatter even more with every passing minute. You could not stand the thought of another woman in Tom's life. In his home. His bed. His heart.

You tried your best to put on a brave face, but your best friend wasn't blind. Neither stupid. He knew you better than you probably knew yourself...

At first the Brit didn't say anything. Given the fact that you clearly told and signalled him that you didn't wish to talk. But at some point, an undeniable, unpleasant tension started to built up between you both. Almost like an imaginary wall... It felt like every untold word, every unspoken feeling had pent up over the last weeks, months - years and were now about to culminate in the middle of an upcoming rain storm. Right here, right now; while being stuck in traffic.

Tom just couldn't take it any longer. He needed to know what had turned everything upside down all of a sudden. Why everything felt so wrong at this very moment.

"Y/N?" He asked you carefully once again. "I know you said everything is okay - and I feel that you clearly don't wish to speak to me, but-" "No, really, Tom. It's all good," you interrupted him once more; giving him another fake smile - and you could tell at the look of his face, that he had seen immediately through that fake smile. But before he was able to say something, you intervened; only digging the gaping hole in your heart deeper.

"Did you go on a date with Chloe?"

Tom frowned; was clearly confused of the sudden change of topic. "Y-Yes, but-" "Great. How did it go?" "Um, great, I-I guess, but why are you-" "Good. That's good. I'm happy for you Tom." You swallowed hard; feeling your heart scream in pain - but no matter how hard it hurt you, you just had to know what happened between them. You wanted to spare yourself the double gut punch. Might as well feel all the pain at once.

"But, Y/N... Why-" You chose not to leave him any space to question you and just get over with it. "Did you kiss her?" "W-What?" "Touch her?" "T-Touch her? Why would I-" "Sleep with her?" "I-" "Was she at least good in bed?" You kept on bombarding your best friend with questions. "Y/N-" "Was she, huh?" "Y/N, I-" "Did she made you cu-"

"Y/N!"

Tom suddenly exploded; screamed out your name and slamming his hands on the steering wheel of the Jag. He clearly had heard enough; couldn't listen to this any longer.

You went silent; didn't even dare to breathe for a second.

"I didn't sleep with her! I didn't touch her! Goddammit, I didn't even kiss her! Nothing happened between us! Nothing!" The Brit took a deep breath; trying to calm himself down again. You just stared at him; mouth closed shut.

"Yes, we met. Yes, it was great. But I wouldn't even call it a date. We talked and drank a glass of wine. Nothing more." You swallowed hard. "B-But, I-I thought you and Chloe were-" "A thing? No. We're not, Y/N." You blinked; were quite stunned at the sudden turnout of this situation - and once more was your mouth quicker to speak than your brain was able to think and so it came how it had to come...

"About who did you and Ben talk about then in your chat, if not Chloe?"

It slipped past your lips - and you immediately regretted it; afraid of Tom's reaction.

Tom's eyes widened to the size of plates; hands twitching to grip the steering wheel tight, while his cheeks turned beet red. The Brit had not thought about this conversation he had with his his friend - and now you knew.

"Shit, Tom, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to spy on your chats, I-I just saw it a-and was wondering about who-"

"You."

You blinked once more. "W-What?"

Tom turned to face you again; oceanic blue eyes meeting your Y/E/C ones.

Now or never, Tom thought.

"You, Y/N. We were talking about you."

You could've sworn that your heart skipped more than just one beat at his words. "M-Me?" You squeaked out; pointing at yourself. "Me?" "Yes. You. And the party today." Your eyes widened; jaw slacking in disbelief. "Y-You wanted to... Me?" Tom nodded; smiling nervously. "I always just wanted you, darling. No other woman on this earth is able to compare to you. My heart fell for you a long time ago. It belongs to you. Always has. Always will. I was just too afraid to tell-" Before he was able to finish his sentence, you had pulled him closer by the lapels of his stupidly sexy suit jacket and literally slammed your lips on his.

Tom was definitely shocked and overwhelmed at first, but he immediately relaxed; sighed in the kiss and pulled you as close as somehow possible with the car interior being quite a bit in the way.

All suppressed feelings and emotions finally broke free and melted into that very kiss. It felt like getting hit by an 18-wheeler truck and floating through heaven at the same time. It was a beautiful, chaotic mess, which the both of you enjoyed every second of - and tempted you to indulge into kiss after kiss after kiss.

You felt how your heartbeat quickened at the feeling of love and desire for the man beside you, as they were finally able to flood your body; veins pulsating with a dangerous mixture of endorphins and oxytocin - and Tom's musky smell, combined with the fruity blood orange and leather touch of his perfume didn't help at all. It made everything worse, without a doubt. Resisting Tom had been always difficult - but now that the chains were broken, it was impossible. And why should you stop yourself? There was no holding back anymore. The cards laid on the table.

You pushed Tom back into the driver seat; catching him by surprise. Your hand started to play with his tie; quickly undoing it. Tom's eyes watched your fingers tracing the buttons of his shirt; steadily wandering lower as he was swallowing hard. "Darling, w-what... what are you- Woah!" Tom had clearly anticipated that your hand would land at a place where he had often imagined it to be late at night, when he was all alone at home. But it didn't. You gave his belt a soft tug, but then moved your hand over his thigh and down to where the lever was, which allowed his seat to slide back; bringing even more space between him and the steering wheel.

Another thing the Brit hadn't seen coming - just like the next move you made.

Within the blink of an eye, you had slipped out of your high heels and elegantly swung yourself over; sitting on your former best friend's lap. It caused your dress to ride up your thighs - and Tom's eyes to widen. He literally froze in place; realising in which position you just brought yourself and him. You placed your hands on his shoulders, tugging at his suit jacket; trying to get him to shrug it off - what he did. "Y/N, w-what are you doing?" Tom knew of course very well what you were doing, but he needed to hear it. "What does it look like? I'm, uh, saving the car and riding you instead."

Tom's eyes almost popped out of his head at your bold words. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that it stirred something deep inside him. And his dress pants.

"Darling, I-I don't know if we should do this here, I-" You raised a playful eyebrow at him.

"Oh, Tommy please... Don't be so shy now. You can't tell me that you never imagined doing this..." You leaned in closer; whispering into his ear: "Me. On top of you." The Brit couldn't help the moan which slipped past his lips. "I-I did, I-," he panted out; feeling one of your hands opening his belt; metal clinking. "See? Besides, the windows are tinted. Nobody's going to see this. Plus, we are stuck anyway, so... What are you waiting for?" You asked in a hushed voice; tracing your lips down his pulse point. "Touch me."

Another breathy moan escaped Tom's lips; big hands flying up to grab your bare thighs and working on slipping your dress even higher up your hips. His warm, slightly sweaty palms sent a shiver down your spine; nerve ends sizzling with desire.

"I-I've wanted this for so long, now, darling." Tom whispered; pressing his forehead against yours. "And now that I can finally have it - you... It's so surreal and- Oh fuck..." Tom's hands started to tremble; eyebrows slanting and mouth forming into a perfect 'o' as you lowered yourself on him. Only your lips messily entangling themselves with his seemed to bring him out of his haze.

"I love you, Tommy. I love you. I always have," you whimpered; body jolting with love and pleasure. His soft beard scratched the skin of your cheek, as he buried his head in the crook of your neck; lips marking you as his.

"I love you, too, darling. With all my heart. I'm yours." He lifted his head once more; glassy blue eyes gazing deeply into your soul. "Now let me love you. Let me make love to you." You smiled deliriously and raked your fingers through his long, blonde-brown curls. "I beg you to, Tommy."

And when he started to move, the world around you faded. All you could think and feel was Tom.

[fictionkinfessions]

Please stop generalizing fictives. Just because our origins are technically 'medical' (as in, a result of a dissociative disorder) doesn't mean we can't view our past lives as spiritual too. I'm tired of seeing "stop treating fictives like their source self!" applied as a general rule. For some of us that's integral to who we are and we can't separate from it. For some of us, we want more than anything to return home, because this world doesn't feel right.

x

[syscultureis]

plural culture is lowkey hoping to get an introject of your comfort character but then feeling guilty bc u know thats not how the disorder works and u shouldnt want to gain a new alter- plus ur in sys partner has source trauma from them and is uncomfy with him even being brought up and u dont wanna put them in a bad situation but you still feel like they would be so helpful and its just an endless cycle of hoping and guilt/neg

(also srry if im spamming u w asks ://)

No I get it

Having this disorder can be hard, it's natural to hope that it does something that would benefit you

I don't want new alters, but if we're going to get new alters I would like them to be someone that already brings me comfort

Meeting knew people is terrifying to me, I have really bad social anxiety, and that applies to my alters as well. I've found it easier to connect with fictives and open up around them, because I feel like I already know them and have to mask less around them

Of course they aren't always there source, and I don't treat them like quirky little guys that are only here for my benefit

But I do still find myself sometimes thinking "I really wish we had __ fictive" because I want to be closer to that character and be comforted by them, and that's the only way that could actually come close to happening

I always feel guilty for these thoughts too, but I've found that they're gonna come with the disorder

[smolvenger]

How To Fake Date A Spy Part Two

Jonathan Pine x fem! Reader Miniseries

Word Count: 6K

Series Summary: You have to deal with numerous men of Roper's business having a gross interest in you for more than small talk. Going to Roper for help, he offers an idea- pretending to be the date of his newest friend. A handsome sous-chef known as Thomas Quince. Little do you know yet, the man's real name is Jonathan Pine and he is on a mission to take Roper down...

Part One

Chapter Warnings: Reader being thirsty, but no smut (yet). Discussions of depression and suicidal intentions with the character of Elena with a note of hope and good mental health and comforting fluffy fix-it goodness. But if you or a loved one have legit intentions, please get help and tell someone, 988 is the American hotline number in addition to 911. Some angst at the end. Discussions of domestic abuse.

A/N: Shout out to @muddyorbsblr for hyping me up as I was writing this draft!!! It always motivates me !!! Thanks, Bestie!!! I hope you guys like it!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over ) @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Why the hell was this happening? Why the hell did you even agree to do this?

Just a few minutes before the cocktail party hosted by Roper. The first time you and Thomas would be seen as a couple in public. That is, a pretend couple. You have taken at least twelve anxiety trips to the restroom in the last two hours. You still felt like any minute you would shit yourself. You kept redoing bits of your makeup because your hand kept shaking. If there was a wrong step, a wrong move, you wondered if something would explode. If someone would either laugh at you or Roper would frown. Then again, this was The Worst Man In The World we were talking about. A frown would be the least of your worries if he wasn’t happy. And Thomas, what was going through his head? It was too long since you dated-really dated. And your heart was racing out of your chest.

You took another look in the mirror to make sure your cocktail dress was right. What would he even think? You wondered. He was probably repulsed by you- he was forced into this too! Now that Elena was your roommate, she was applying mascara next to you. But you could only stare blankly at your reflection. Overthinking and psyching yourself out as you scanned your appearance again.

“Hey Y/N, what's up?” she asked.

“I’m…I’m just…uh…nervous,” you replied. Nothing fake about that statement.

“Nervous? How come?” She began.

She looked around and then whispered. “Are you…are you in danger….did…”

“No, Roper didn’t threaten anything!“It’s just uh…I hope…I hope tonight just…goes okay,”

“Alright. Whatever you say. It’s just a cocktail party. Another party full of boring guests doing boring fancy things.”

“Well, Elena…today, uh, I gotta tell you something- uh-”

Then there it was. The fateful knock against the door. You jumped and let out a small shout of surprise. Elena looked at you with wide, scared eyes. You saw her hand shake with the mascara tube. But you held her other hand.

Then a soft, British voice was behind. You felt the teenage girl relax. You, however, did not.

“Y/N, I’m here. Ready when you are.”

Taking in a breath, you went to the door and opened up. Though you were delighted to see Thomas. The black eye and nose healed nicely. The bruises didn’t seem too obvious with his tanned skin. The sight of him was dazzling- a crisp blue suit that brought out how his eyes were like the spring sky. He looked down and smiled at you. You couldn’t speak at the sight of him. Excitement mixed with nervousness.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” he asked with a warm smile.

You looked back and saw that Elena tilted her head and squinted at him.

“Are you escorting us?” asked.

“Y/N is my date, but I’ll be glad to walk you over too,” he replied with a shrug.

You might have grown feathers and laid eggs before Elena's eyes. Her jaw fell to the floor. Then she looked at the two of you.

“Your date?!” she cried.

“Yeah….Thomas and I are dating!” you announced matter-of-factly. At least, you hoped it sounded matter-of-fact.

You put on a smile that you hoped wasn't too false looking- small and happy. You leaned in a little closer to him.

"Why....uh....congrats!" Elena replied.

"Yes...I wanted to tell you Elena, but..." you began

You felt your hands twitch and you hoped she wouldn’t notice. Then Thomas stepped forward.

"No, it's alright....come join us, Elena. You’re always welcome with us.”

As Elena walked out beside you two. Both of your clicking heels echoed in the hallway. Her dark hair contrasted with the white of her dress. As she got closer, you could hear the guests chatting. Her mother stepped up and opened an arm. She went up and got her mother’s hand and then walked to the party.

You walked beside Thomas, only giving the odd glance at him. You felt your heart pick up as you got closer. You felt fluttery inside. When Elena and her mother vanished into the party, Thomas leaned in towards you.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“Is water wet?” you replied dryly.

"Take my hand," he instructed.

He splayed out his hand before you- large and smooth. You reached yours, then hesitated before touching him.

“Your hand?" you repeated.

"Take my hand, Y/N. It will make it more believable,” he said.

With a deep breath, you took his hand. It still felt warm, warm from the sun that shone on his skin. His own large hand was soft on you again. With his free hand, he touched your chin, his thumb going to the corners of your mouth. It felt as intimate as a kiss on your thigh. You felt yourself take a breath so deep, you got a little dizzy. Then you went up to him. Suddenly, though there was a whole party of people, it felt like you two were the only ones on earth. Though you had more presentation of calm, his voice was doing nothing for your racing heart.

“Now…we have to smile. Just relax. It’ll be easier than you think,” he advised.

You unclenched your jaw at him. Under the graze of his thumb, you felt the corners of your lips twitch up.

“There…there it is,” he said, with a smile that matched yours.

Then use that…like method acting. Y/N you thought.

So then you both walked on and entered holding hands. It was another large group with cocktails in wide glasses and thin stems. Full of light laughter like wind chimes on a summer day. It was thick with every cologne and perfume you could name. There were bright flowers and green, leafy plants everywhere. Waiters in suits walked around serving drinks and hors devours. You felt Thomas squeeze your hand and you walked with a smile.

Just stay by him and hold his hand and smile. It had been too long- why didn't you notice what it was couples did? Your sister draped her arm around Roper's all the time. Caro would give kisses on Sandy's cheek and then his lips.

Yet when you entered, eyes went forward in greedy curiosity. You were recognized. And so was the new man-Danny’s savior. You saw their acknowledgment. The big eyes. The frozen smiles. Some noticed you and then immediately turned to their circle. Then those people turned heads. You couldn't hear a word but you knew they were talking about you.

But best of all were the men’s reactions. When your gross potential suitors turned to you, they saw your hand firmly in Thomas’s. And there were frowns on all of their faces. Then a nod when their eyes met Thomas's. He would nod back. The man who bested them. The man who beat them. Now, for once, you could be at a party of Roper’s and relax.

Well, not entirely. Elena was still with her family. And you made sure that you at least stayed by her side. You wouldn't leave her alone. The thought of what almost happened at her birthday party... made you want to be sick and disturbed you so much that it chilled your body and made you tense. So you kept an eye on her at the bare minimum. Though it seemed by now, she was sitting by Danny as he showed her his books.

"Wouldn't you like something to drink, darling?" Thomas asked, his voice putting a bit more weight on darling.

"I would love a drink" You nodded.

Both of you walked up to the bar. There was already a guy right by you. The guy from the last party who asked about your book- you could feel his green eyes on you and already smell the hair gel on his platinum blonde comb-over. You could see him get ready with a way to hit on you as he sat. But then his eyes turned up to see the intimidating Six Foot Two barricade to get to your panties. The guy shrunk into himself and then turned away promptly. You had to smirk. You knew he wanted to date you. But now it looked like the only date That Asshole would get tonight would be with his right hand.

"Could the lady have a martini, please?" Thomas asked the bartender. The old man nodded and handed you one. Thomas leaned there to watch the bartender make the drink.

Right as you turned, another familiar man from the other day swung by. Mr. Jacobson. He had been pretty persistent and determined last time. Though your body flinched as if ready for a fight, you made yourself still. Part of you didn’t shoo him away because you knew it was going to be entertaining to watch him try tonight.

You saw Thomas turning to watch you two.

"Hey there, Y/N, you look gorgeous again," Mr. Jacobson said, picking at a toothpick between his teeth with the sensual appeal of a patient at the dentist.

You opened your mouth to speak. To say something. A fruitless refusal. It was in your habit to. Then your fake boyfriend arrived. You felt Thomas’s arm reach across your shoulders. A protective half-hug. You could feel the muscles from how well fitted his suit was and you felt your breath flutter in your lungs. Looking up, Thomas gave the man an icy glare.

"I know she does."

The pure threat of it. If you had to be honest, the low growl in his voice…did something to you. You felt yourself clench your legs. Your breath was shallow and sharp You...liked it. Yes, it wasn't the most progressive thing to be a damsel in distress. But with this fine specimen in blue rescuing you, you were not going to complain.

Mr. Jacobson jumped and his face turned pale. He put his arms up.

"Oh, my bad! My bad! I thought she was...single, you know."

"No, she's not," Thomas said flatly. His glare continued right into the eyes of Mr. Jacobson.

“I am so sorry, man. So sorry, I swear…won’t happen! Won’t happen again!” he begged.

"It won't," Thomas replied firmly.

The guy fluttered away to the other end of the room. You looked up and smiled.

"Thank you, Thomas,"

“Y/N!” you heard Jed from across the room. Already in her light blue summery dress. The flowing skirt made her seem like a mermaid as she walked up. Then she widened her eyes at you.

You turned around and went over to give her a hug.

“You look lovely!” she said.

“Oh Jed, stop! You look gorgeous too!” you shook.

“Oh, don’t say that and…is that…is that Thomas!?” she asked.

You turned over. Thomas went up to her and shook her hand.

“Yes…” You turned to her. Trying to ignore how dry your mouth was with the phrase.

“Jed, Thomas, and I are dating now!” you announced. You followed it by sipping your martini.

Her jaw dropped, but she let a smile on her dazzling face and hugged you.

“Oh my god…that’s wonderful! Y/N! Oh, you should have told me the second it happened!”

"We wanted to be private...until we were certain we were on the same page," you lied through your teeth mid-hug.

Then she dropped to a frown and her eyes hardened. She let go of the hug and crossed her long arms.

“My sister is a sweetheart. And you will treat her well. You got it?”

You were surprised, but you took it.

“Yes, miss," Thomas replied.

“I will fight you if you do anything to hurt you,” she added.

“I understand…and I won’t do anything, Jed. I'll treat her well. Promise," he swore.

“Thank you…”

You sighed. Jed was right- he was decent. As dinner arrived, you both sat next to Elena and her parents. You were glad for her being a third wheel. She spoke to you and smiled. You even made jokes with each other. Both you and Thomas were aware of holding each other's hands whenever possible. But it didn't feel too different from just eating next to him anytime. He did flash you a smile and you found yourself smiling back. On instinct.

But…you couldn’t get this too complicated quickly. No, you read enough Romance novels to know where this kind of shit led up to. It wasn't right. You didn't like this...romance was in stories and fiction. Not in the real world. In the real world, where too many men, men like Roper, were just there to assert power and squash the women beneath them to prove a point. You couldn't risk that. Couldn't risk anything. Just enjoy a fleeting fantasy. A pretense. Like being an actor on the stage.

After dinner, he led you out to the balcony. There were a couple of other people out there smoking cigarettes and admiring the view of the city and the ocean at night. Then they began to walk off. You both were left alone. So you squared your voice.

"Thomas, promise me this thing. Don't get any emotions. Because I won't. Let's not get too attached to each other during this. The last thing I need is to actually believe our little game with Roper.”

He leaned over the balcony. A light breeze from the night drifted onto you both.

“What emotions should be involved?” he asked.

You felt yourself cross your arms. Your jaw hung open, but no words formed immediately.

“Um...Just....friendship I guess, nothing more," you answered.

He nodded with a small smile.

"If that is what makes you safe, then I won't mind," he assured you.

You put your forearms on the balcony. You looked out at the moonlight as its reflection still shimmered over the gentle rustling of the sea.

"You’re quite the gentleman," you acknowledged.

“I tried. I saw how uncomfortable they made you, Y/N. I feel sorry you have to go through that… You don’t deserve to feel unsafe," he said.

"Thank you....Thomas, Maybe I should return the favor…Is there anything I can help you with, Thomas?" you asked, turning to him.

He looked at you. Then he licked his lips and took in a breath, ready to say his boon.

"Not really, just this one thing..." he began.

“What is it?”

"If they're going to believe we're a couple...we have to know things about each other. That’s what couples do. They might test us. Especially when we’re alone. That's what couples do.”

You tilted your head.

"Have you been in relationships before?" you asked curiously.

He nodded.

"Married briefly, then we divorced. We were both young-too young to understand what marriage meant. And...there was a woman once but...it didn't work out," he answered.

You heard the wind whistle in your ear.

"Even with those- you learn things about each other. I could tell you my ex-wife liked to paint. Jed could tell you what Roper's favorite color is if you asked her," he pointed out. "You know...hobbies. Foods. Favorite colors. What are yours, Y/N?"

You blinked. Then opening your mouth, you began your answers. “Well, for one, I like to read. I bring books in my purses in case events get dull. Jed would tease me about it. I have her and our mom…but things are complicated right now...”

It felt like some icebreaker activity on the first day of school. But he smiled warmly, nodding. You described what you liked to do. Your favorite foods you couldn't resist. And the colors that you liked the most. Thomas relaxed to a smile and nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind," he replied.

You drummed your fingers on the balcony.

"Do you have hobbies, Thomas?" you asked.

He nodded.

"Yes. I like to read, too. I collect books," he answered. He stood up and put his hands in his pockets.

"Ooo, and your family?"

"Father died. Then my mum. Never had a real family. Just foster homes."

You looked down to the ground.

"Oh...I'm sorry..."

He then took out his hand. He touched your chin, lifting it gently to look at him. He only shrugged with a calm expression on his face.

"Don't be...I only got to have many families. I was with a family who spoke Arabic. Another spoke German. I learned their languages, too."

"Cool! Do you know a phrase you can teach me?" you asked.

He nodded. He looked around, then his eyes met yours again.

"Easily-here's a German one. Die Sterne sind heute Nacht hell."

"And that means..."

He removed a hand from his pocket and pointed at the sky.

"The stars are bright tonight..."

Both of you looked up-an expanse of stars glowed above you. They were so bright they glistened down. Their own light gave his skin a more silver glow to him. You saw he smiled and his shoulders relaxed. He looked beautiful, looking up, admiring the sky.

“Yes…they’re very pretty,” you said.

There was a knock on the glass door and you turned and saw Jed. She signaled to you that the guests were heading out and you had to say your goodbyes. You both flashed a "couple" smile and a brief, half "couple" hug. Especially with her eyes on the both of you. As you headed back inside, she turned to you.

“Well, first you had Danny, now you have Elena, and now Thomas! It’s like you hardly see me!” she teased.

“Oh, by all means- join us in our room, we could get a sleeping bag for you! And don’t pretend you don’t have your own man too.”

She smirked, then gave you a kiss on the side of her head. But as you looked back, Thomas was still admiring the sky.

The next morning, you woke up in your room to the sounds of birds. You listened to Elena snore in the bed next to you. She went on her stomach, and her dark hair splayed across the pillow. It was like the snore of a puppy and it was pretty cute, you had to admit.

She was resting. She was sleeping. She was alive-her inhales and exhales signaled by his body rising and falling softly.

When you went over to her counter, you took note of something you hadn't noticed- prescription bottles. Looking at them, you saw her counselor prescribed her anti-depressants yesterday. You smiled. It did look like she was going to have to take one in the morning. You'd have to remind her. Normally, you’d get water or coffee, but you made a promise not to leave her alone. You would honor it. Just in case she woke up. But as you sat by in the room, you turned your head to the window to look outside. Dear God, You were glad you looked.

Outside, you saw none other than your fake boyfriend, Thomas, running on the beach in dark shorts. No shoes. And no shirt.

You felt the corners of your lips tug up as if a smile was brewing. You felt your eyes glaze over his muscled abdominals- he was lean but you could count the six packs on his ripped stomach. His pectorals bounced with the force of his jogging. All of a sudden, you understood heterosexual men a lot more. He was delicious. His determined eyes shot forward like nothing on earth was going to stop him from getting to the other side of that beach. And that was alluring, to put it mildly. You could have squealed and pressed your face to the window like a fangirl, but stayed put. Savoring each inch of him. From his short hair to the trail of hair on his lower stomach leading you to the center of sin. His muscled arms with bulging biceps moved with each turn of his shoulder per step. You found yourself creeping to a corner. So he wouldn't see. So you could indulge yourself. Oogle him. Even lust after him. He was getting very sweaty and you could feel his breathing with how hard he ran. Then you would be blessed with imagining him taking a shower.

You were tempted for a second to wake up Elena so she could see him too and drool over him. But honestly, it went in a second because you could not take your eyes off of him.

“Holy shit” was the only phrase in your head as you watched him continue to run on. Even seeing how his sweat was hinted at by the glow of the rising sun. His trail grazed the ocean and the water splashed from his running. And his feet weren't the only thing starting to get damp.

You felt warm and tingly as he ran by. Your pussy was beginning to....feel things you hadn't felt in a long while. Then he was gone. You had a good look at his perfect, peachy behind and the back of his muscular thighs in the shorts and then he went on his way.

You swallowed. Pacing the floor, you shook your hands as if to shake the lust from your body. You were a lot more thrilled you had to be a pretend girlfriend to him. All the man on earth and it was him you got to hold hands and sit next to! Any other girl could have him. It was a miracle he didn't have a hundred lovers at this point- but he was yours! All yours!

No-NO! A more rational part of your brain yelled.

Yes, he's hot. But it's fake. Don't let your feelings get involved. He's a nice man. He’s got an amazing body. But he's still a man. Yes, he's hot, but it's fake, Y/N, you reminded yourself that morning.

It's fake, it's fake, it's fake.

That morning at breakfast, you could smell that Thomas had taken a shower. Elena stood by you when he greeted you. He used a soap scented with citrus. God, the fantasy of him taking a shower was screaming in your impulsive thoughts now. He went up to you and smiled. In Boyfriend ™ mode, he gave you a half-hug.

“How are you, darling?” he asked.

“I’m alright. Starving.”

“Then let’s get you something to eat then,” he said as the chef wheeled in omelets and toast for everybody.

You looked over around the table. Then a sight caught you that hit you like a brick.

Sandy and Caro had hired a nanny- a gorgeous young woman hired to look after Sady and Caro's two little boys. But Sandy sat next to the beautiful woman and smiled at her. Not in a way that felt appropriate.

“Why, don’t you look beautiful this morning!? Did you wake up like this?” he asked the lady.

“Oh…yes! Yes, I did,” she replied flirtatiously.

Wait a minute, you thought. How long has she been here? When you counted the weeks, you realized that there was a correlation between Sandy stopping his flirting with you when she first arrived. No coincidence. Your mind spiraled further.

The woman knew he was a married man. It was not stopping her.

Whipping your eyes to the side you saw Caro blink. Her face went pale. Then red. Then pale again. Their boys complained bout wanting pancakes and she would tell the chef to make some batter for them. But Caro didn't eat the rest of her food.

You felt suddenly sick. You gripped your fork in your hand.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” Thomas asked, his jaw tight but his voice earnest.

“I…I, uh, we’ll talk later. Not right now,” you said.

Thomas was there, he slipped a hand to hold yours as you ate.

The next day, you took Elena to visit the church before getting some lunch somewhere. It was a blazing day and you were grateful for the coolness of the cathedral. A sanctuary in many ways. The heat. And for Elena. Both of you sat down. You saw her make the sign of the cross and half kneel before sitting at a pew. She was right- this was a safe place. And maybe if Roper was the devil, then he couldn't touch you here. Neither of you.

"How is therapy going?" you asked.

"It's...it's good. Very good. I never listened to someone...as kind as her...I never felt so...so safe. No guards. No Papi. Nothing. She told me all sorts of things. I cry almost the whole time. But she…she listens to me. She believes me. She tells me every feeling and part of life is only temporary and the bad feelings and bad parts eventually go away…"

"That's good. I'm glad. And the apartment search? Have you picked a city?"

"I'd like to live here. It's not too far but far enough. I'm looking at applications...And you- how are you and Thomas?"

"We're...we're good, thank you."

"Just good? How did you two meet?" she asked.

"Well...he rescued Danny. Roper brought him to recover. Got to talk to him a lot. Then he asked me out." So far, so good. You just prayed he would say the same if someone asked him.

"Does he kiss you?"

"Yes," you lied.

"I don't see it. I see your sister kiss Roper all the time."

"Thomas...it's the British in him. Stiff upper lip. He's not the PDA type outside of hands and hugging. That might be pushing it....he kissed me the other night under the stars at the party." you added with a smile. Your memory flashed to Thomas staring up at the sky.

"Huh...nice...but Y/N...I’ve been scared..."

She blinked.

"Will Roper...catch me? Will he...kill me? He's not beneath it. I know he is."

"Why would Roper want to kill the daughter of his lawyer? He'd turn his own ally against him?"

Her jaw tightened.

"He'll see...that I'm not happy...he knows I know the truth about him…"

“Then why hasn’t he done it yet?” you asked.

“I…I don’t know…but I want to get out now!"

"Then..." you turned around.

"Then that means, if you're not happy draining his wealth, then we'll get out of here. Just bear it-be patient, Elena. We have to find you an apartment first...and then we go through the application process."

Her eyes shined.

"Anywhere is better than at Roper''s."

"Okay...we'll take some time here. You can go to the confessional if you want. Whenever you're ready...let's find a place that's leasing. Ask them some questions. See what you might like.”

Elena nodded. After a bit, you saw her go off and have a chat with the other people around the cathedral. Old women kissing their cross necklaces. Tourists taking photos on their phones. Funny...that was the same pregnant tourist she talked to on the first day! Maybe a pregnant Catholic tourist. She went back to you and you gave her a smile as you both stood up and walked down the halls to the door.

You commented "One thing to remember about yourself Elena- you're a good person. You make friends with everyone- no wonder that lady keeps coming back to you! People like you!"

She sighed and her shoulders sagged.

“What is it?”

"Y/N…I feel sometimes I’m…I’m yelling for help to get out, but at my parents, at Roper’s…it’s like no one can hear me. I should be happy. But I’m not…I'm just...just a whining, weak little rich girl..."

Tears were in the ducts of her eyes.

"No, Elena. Don’t discredit yourself. You are going through a hard time. Something happened to you to make you think there was no getting better. And that poor girl may think she has no other escape...but there is...there always is…and you are not alone...”

You turned to her, gripping her shoulders.

“Deaths’ a permanent solution to a temporary problem. You have to remember that. Your problems are real…so are mine! But they are temporary!”

You swallowed, your voice broke with your words yet you spoke on. But you saw Eelena smile despite her sobs.

“You’re already seeking help. And getting therapy and talking. And we’re getting you a new place. Even if it takes a while, you’re going to get out of Roper’s grasp and never look back, and never have to live off of blood money again!! Neither of us will!"

You were crying too.

"I promise you. We will get you to escape. We'll find something- I will do whatever it takes. That little rich girl isn't whiny or weak...she's a brave young woman who looked at death right in its eye and when she was going to cross….she chose life instead. She did the right thing. She's a hero who saved herself and she deserves to be happy."

Crying, she hugged you deeply.

“Oh, Y/N! Thank you! T-thank you-u-u,” she replied, her own voice breaking with tears. But it felt nice. Freeing. Crying released the tension between the two of you. “You’re a strong woman, Elena. I’m proud of you-just for living. Just for surviving.”

After lunch, both of you toured apartments around. Elena lit up and smiled with each bare corner and wall you both saw. As you returned, it was a lazy evening. You were enjoying your reading while lounging at the pool. You saw Thomas walk around and saw Elena chatting with him. Part of you was tempted to be jealous or concerned. But it was alright. There seemed nothing inappropriate between them. Let her make another friend. But Caro only sat by the edge dipping her bare feet in the water. Her face was despondent. Staring at nothing.

There was a dinner the next day. It was no party (Corky was grateful- guests were a lot to keep track of). But it was nice as always. Nice with lobsters for everyone and large glasses of wine for each person. You saw Corky was already on his third one as he dug into his crab cakes and spuds. You had to grin. At least he was off your back when he had a few.

But Jonathan was handsome as ever. In just a dark suit and white shirt, he still appeared like a Greek god in the flesh. Whenever he smiled at you, it was like you had swallowed a bird and it was flying around in your stomach.

"Is there any...dessert you'd like to split?" he'd ask.

"Yes, uhm...how about...uh- a slice of cake- sweetie," you said, adding emphasis on the last two words should anyone hear.

"Cake sounds marvelous, my dear," he said, feeling yourself tingle at the words. Enjoying the fakeness while it lasted.

Elena looked at you and gave a smile over her chicken as she continued to eat.

Yes- eat. Drink water. Sleep. Live, Elena, live, I'll get you out. You’re going to live. You’re going to be happy with your life, I promise...

"Oh, Thomas! One would think you were a nun and a eunuch!" Roper teased.

You shot up. You made a point by leaning closer and holding Thomas’s hand.

“Roper, really…” you said. But you were interrupted.

"Go on, Y/N is as sweet as that dessert, why don't you give her a little kiss on the cheek..."

You looked down, an embarrassed laugh coming out of you. Thomas opened his mouth to speak, but Roper pressed further. He was testing you both and he knew it. Like you were both his playthings.

"C'mon! Just a peck, Loverboy!” Roper pressed.

You glanced at him and he at you.

“Would you be okay if I kissed you, just on the cheek?” Thomas asked.

“Uh, yes. Sure.”

He leaned in close. You could smell the food on his breath and feel warm air from his nostrils, from his breathing. Then he brought his lips to your cheek. They were soft. Gentle. Like a drizzle in April. You felt your whole body get hot. The fact you were kissed in such a spot. It was as chaste as chaste could be. Yet you could have melted from how tender his lips felt against the skin of your cheek. Then he retreated.

Roper smiled and lifted his glass, taking a sip of his chardonnay.

It then struck you. Sandy and the babysitter had been gone. Too long. Suspiciously long. Then, from the hallway, you heard steps. And laughter- both deep masculine and bright feminine voices. The nanny returned first. The nanny was blushing, but smiling as she returned. Then a few minutes later, Sandy walked returned. You saw his shirt looked disshelved and there was a swagger to his steps.

The asshole wasn’t even subtle or secret about it.

Caro looked devastated. Her face was white. She was shaking. Everyone turned their faces away and kept talking as if nothing happened. Even if Caro looked like she was going to break in a hundred bits. You could tell it was everything in her not to cry in front of her boys.

“Well, I hope everyone has room for dessert. Hear the cake’s magnificent! A chef Ludesma signature!” Sandy announced with a flourish of his voice. That stupid asshole. Caro was devoted to him and she loved him. She did everything right- gorgeous socialite mom who gave Sandy two sons to take fishing and to sports games to be more copies of their father. She always got her hair and nails done and her clothes always looked in place. She was friendly and polite to everyone and you never heard of her capable of hurting a fly. Caro never stepped a toe out of line and looked away when men hit on her. And that bastard cheated on her anyway.

She did everything right and she was the one crying. He was having an affair, and he was smiling.

You had had enough. You got right out of your chair. Thomas looked up at you, but his face remained neutral.

You went up to Sandy before your self-control could get you. You took Sandy and looked him in the eye. He went up, wiping his mouth with his napkin- you didn’t see it closely but you knew the nanny wore pink lipstick. Sandy looked up at you with that stupid, shit-eating grin.

"Y/N, how are-"

You slapped him hard before he could finish his sentence. The crowd gasped and chairs squeaked as people got up. Sandy immediately got up, trying to let his tallness and his masculinity scare you away. But you did not back down.

“Y/N, what was the point of-”

Before he could finish that, you gave him a kick in the groin too. He groaned and leaned over in pain, then you grabbed his shirt.

"You stop fucking that babysitter, or I WILL use one of the wine glasses and break it and cut your balls off with it, do you understand?" you raged.

His eyes went wide and he gritted his teeth. You saw his fists curled as if ready to punch you. You took a step back but didn’t stop glaring his eyes.

“Caro loves you and this is how you repay her, you prick?! She doesn’t deserve you. You’re lucky she hasn’t stabbed you!” you continued.

“You little bitch!” Sandy cursed.

But the party already ran up to you. People held both Sandy and you back.

Roper stood up. He went over to Sandy and got him, restraining him from lunging. You felt Jed and Thomas get up and get you, pulling you back. Then you shot your eyes into the nanny to give her a death glare. You would have slapped her too if it wasn't for Jed holding you back.

“! You’re as bad as he is! You KNEW he was married, and it didn’t stop you, you little-”

Jed pulled you away. And you gritted your teeth as the nanny stared horrified, frozen in her seat.

Sandy meanwhile was pointing a meaty, sausage-like finger in your direction.

"Did you see what she did!? She attacked me!” he cried.

"Now, Sandy, don't panic...it's just a scuffle. I don't see a mark on your cheek. Not a large one, anyway." Roper began.

He glared at you. His voice steeled with more venom than you could imagine.

"We know the lowest brothels in Munich and we'll sell you straight to them this minute !" he threatened.

You felt your jaw clench. Terror gripped you and you couldn't move, couldn't think.

“No! Please! Please don’t!” Jed begged, leaning forward.

Then Thomas stepped forward. He replaced Jed's arm around you and then leaned out a hand in peace. Jed ran forward to beg Roper and Sandy not to sell you off as punishment. Could they...could they do that...oh no...what on earth had you done!?!

Thomas however, was still quiet. But he was strong. You found yourself wanting to nuzzle into his shirt. You could smell his cologne subtly applied. He was again...so warm and soft. And safe. He then began speaking with such authority, anyone had to listen.

"Please...everyone...let's not fret ourselves. Sandy has done wrong, and he should acknowledge how much this hurt his wife. Don’t be upset at Y/N, either. She’s fiercely devoted to her friends, especially the women here. She was trying to protect Caro," he reasoned.

He looked down at you. His gaze softened and you felt yourself relax a little near him. His arm enclasped you in an embrace. Youcould feel his pulse in his body. You hugged him back and swallowed hard.

Roper furrowed his brow. He then took a step forward and spoke to your pretend boyfriend giving you a very real defense.

"If she was my woman...she would be off to Germany by now. But she's not. Thomas, you have to learn to control your woman. I do so with Jed. Sandy does it with Caro. Now it’s your turn. Take her to your quarters. Give her a dressing down. Or we will have to do it for you,” threatened Roper.

You felt your heart race inside your ears. This was some real 19th-century bullshit Roper was pulling out of his ass. Would that be…be possible? Now even Jed looked scared. So very scared. And she stopped trying to beg him. Oh god, now it was going to happen to you. Elena and her parents were silent and you saw the teenage girl trembling. She took a step forward out of her seat, but then Roper put an arm up to stop her.

Thomas then put his hand around your arm.

“Here…I will take her to my room and I will dress her down, as we say. Just give us a moment…” he began.

Thomas was a nice man. A docile, polite, quiet, if not slightly mild man when you talked to him. He wouldn’t…beat you. He didn't seem the type. hen again, you remembered a phrase you heard once. It was always the ones you would never suspect. You bit back your bile. Your legs were shaking so badly, you wondered if you were standing.

“Here, Y/N…come with me…” he directed.

You had no choice but to follow as he led you by pulling you with him. His touch felt like a grip this time. You were shaking. Then he led you out. Out of that building. The guards nodded and let him. Out into the cool night air with the crickets and stars. You could still smell the sea too. It would usually be comforting. But this was not usual. You saw his muscles and big hands- he could overtake you in a fight. A blow from his fists would hurt. He could easily overpower you. You should have known. You should have known he was Roper's friend. And friends meant one's future-your sister's future. Yours.

He had a smaller cottage near the property. He took you right inside into the front foyer- a little hall with a kitchenette right there. Then he locked the door and looked at you. His jaw tight. Then he took a step forward. You squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself.

“Just get it over with, quick!” you insisted.

“Y/N…you're safe here. They would have pressured me to hit you. But I'm not. Not here or anywhere. I’m not going to hurt you…” he said.

You opened your eyes. Your shoulders relaxed though your heart was still racing. He went up to you.

“Thomas, what are you talking about?” you hissed.

He leaned in close. His voice was just a whisper.

“You don’t have to call me Thomas here…you can call me Jonathan.”

“What…you have another name?” you asked, your mind reeling with every word he said.

“Yes-Jonathan Pine.”

[sophieinwonderland]

A new hate blog is on the scene: Meet @no-context-endogenics

The DNI is rich when your whole blog is dedicated to witch-hunting and calling out endogenic systems by name. But let's see if this blog is even living up to its own name.

Here's the first post on their blog:

First... literally have no idea what's wrong with this. But second... Let's take a quick look at the pinned of this system they targeted.

Literally a traumagenic system.

IN THE FIRST POST OF THIS BLOG!

To be fair, they did post to the endogenic tags, but a lot of pro-endo traumagenic systems do when users like this make them feel unsafe in traumagenic spaces.

Right... which is why you posted the previous traumagenic system on your no-context-endogenics blog that claims to be about posting endos! 🙄

Also, I can't tell... are you lumping in mixed origin systems with "endos" here? It seems like you are, because the blog has a tendency of posting mixed origin systems too when it claims to be posting endos, as well as ones that just don't state their origins. Because many mixed origin systems do, in fact, have a disorder and are very public about it.

For example...

Mixed origin, polyfragmented DID system.

(Also, runs some of the coolest and most important plural blogs on Tumblr.)

Another post on this blog, which I'm not including here, was from a 14-year-old polyfragmented c-DID system. That system didn't say if they were endogenic or traumagenic, but I think it's safe to assume that they were most likely at least partially traumagenic.

And no, I think systems that harm the community definitely deserve hate. People who are out there calling out systems, fakeclaiming them, implicitly fakeclaiming trauma, bullying, etc.

But systems who are just existing as endogenic... sorry... we aren't your scapegoat.

I generally try to be nice with these. At least relatively.

But I'm going to fail this time.

You. Are. Pathetic.

All of you.

Endogenic systems have NOTHING to do with why systems are fakeclaimed. Do you want to know why systems are fakeclaimed? It's because systems... are weird. We are. We're a step too far from the norm and the average neurotypical singlet can't comprehend multiple existing in the same body together.

That makes us easy targets. And we should be standing together. We should be supporting each other.

But people like you are only interested in tearing us down because you're too cowardly to put the blame for your fakeclaiming on the actual fakeclaimers.

You want to talk about ruining the community, but you fakeclaim other systems. You hurt other systems. Including traumagenic DID systems. Because you're miserable and you have to inflict your misery on others to make yourselves feel better.

Have you ever been to Fakedisordercringe?

Because let me tell you, the people who get fakeclaimed there aren't usually fakeclaimed for being endogenic. Yes, of course they're anti-endo. But many who are targeted are traumagenic DID systems and it has nothing to do with endogenics at all.

Although... I guess that also applies to the @no-context-endogenics too, doesn't it? I mean, out of every post there, I think this might be the only one that's actually purely endogenic. (Not mixed origins, unknown or explicitly traumagenic.) Most of the blog is just Fakedisordercringe-style posts targeted at trauamagenic DID systems.

Minor bodied? Minor bodied with over 200 headmates? Using the word "headmates?" OSDD-1b? Fictive heavy? Undertale fictives?

The cringe subreddits would gobble you all up in a heartbeat.

And you know what the most incredible part of this is???

You're supporting them!

You give them the moral justification they need. You support this ridiculous narrative that there are these groups who are causing DID to not be taken seriously by... existing... often, in the case of most endogenic systems, not even claiming to have a disorder in the first place. Just... being plural.

And you give the okay for these singlets to feel morally justified in attacking and fakeclaiming systems just like your own.

You are EVERYTHING wrong with the system community.

You're the reason systems fear expressing themselves online or in public. The reason fakeclaiming is so rampant. You contribute to this toxic environment of fear and paranoia in system spaces.

You're not defending the system community.

YOU ARE THE ONES RUINING THIS COMMUNITY!

You're just a bunch of cyberbullies.

And the same goes for anybody supporting you too.

(And before anybody takes issue with me posting this when two of the bullies acting as admins for the blog are minor-bodied, I'm just going to remind you again that another one of their posts which I didn't share here targeted a 14-year-old polyfragmented DID system, so I really don't care about the ages of the bullies in the slightest.)

[budgetbuildsystem]

This may be a bit long of a read, as a notice:

Introjection and "source memories" (a common term used in the community, though other common terms are pseudomemories [a more ) are a complex thing and whether or not any introjects (fictives, factives, other kinds that cannot be organized in such a way) even develop them varies greatly between systems.

Some introjects' memories "update" with whatever their source is, while others do not.

Coming from a more psychological view of why introjects' can form pseudomemories:

Psueodomemories are often there to "explain" or sort of to be a "backstory" for the alter in question. Maybe to be a better way to explain why their personality is the way it is, or why they have the fears they have. Pseudomemories though often can be there as "coverups", or ways to show what you all collectively or the body may have gone through, while still providing a kind of "safe distance" from the body trauma. A good example would be A (a system) goes through trauma as a child. C splits off at some point with pseudomemories related to things that while aren't a 1:1 to the body's trauma, still hold feelings and maybe similar experiences to what the body went through. This time though, since in the mind these memories aren't exactly the same as the body's, it may be processed a bit seperately so you may have time to process those invidually and may come to realise that processing that opened up for being able to better process and understand the body's trauma later on when you have tools. In a way, C having these memories may also serve as a way to not trigger other alters who DO have memories of the bodily trauma, but since they're a bit more "distanced" from it in a way, the chances of triggering others out or causing a chain reaction may be a bit lower thus processing this overall may be a bit easier. Though easier doesn't necessarily mean it won't be difficult, at the very least it may mean that there are less chances of triggering multiple alters or a chain reaction if you have "coverup" memories.

Though this isn't the case for every single memory, and still trying to dig could end up in triggering something so regardless if they are source memories or body memories, I suggest you treat all of this with care and take it slow.

Pseudomemories aren't always a cover up as I said before, and sometimes they can just be there to provide a backstory or even just some sort of comfort.

I think tying this into why introjects form could be beneficial, but I'll leave it at that. And again, not every introject has their memories "updated" either. "Non-canon" introjects or introjects who don't follow their source 1:1 is also very common, and I'd argue simply is what happens to anyone given the fact that people can grow. Characters can not (in a way, they only grow as far as narrated). Introjects are not their source, and naturally introjects are the system's mix of interpretation, what the system needs at the time (say A splits off C who is based off of someone, but only splits off more resilient or positive traits of them because that's what's needed at the time), and probably a few other things I'm missing.

Keep in mind that it really also depends on your all's outlook of source memories too. I'm speaking from a very medical side of things, and also more strictly about DID/OSDD, so this may not apply if it's something you all experience moreso from spirituality, etc.

So essentially, yes it could be that Astarion doesn't feel comfortable enough or wants to keep things private. It could also be that Astarion doesn't have many memories or even memories of what happened as you all continued playing. It really just depends, but at the very least I will reiterate to just take this slow. Pseudomemories can be just as personal and often very intimate part of alters' lives.

I really appreciate this break down and honestly it makes a lot of sense. Sometimes the things astarion went through in source do slightly mirror my own feelings and thoughts. But yes I do try to give him his privacy as I know he is more than just a character in my head, he's a part of me and his own person at the same time.

[anti-endo-polyfragculture]

polyfrag culture is when you start out believing you have p-DID with three alters because the host never switched out but there were fictives causing passive influence.

then you believe you have OSDD-1b with 20+ alters because you don't experience amnesia between switches and no general amnesia.

then your general amnesia increases greatly after your host switches out more frequently and you believe you have DID with 50+ alters.

and suddenly a gatekeeper/manager from a random sub/side system fronts and logs thousands of fragments in their system (not separately, just roughly guessing the number), several other gatekeepers, a clear hierarchy, at least two more separate inner world spaces, a memory holder fragment that's always in front (explains the low amnesia), certain rules that apply to certain inner world areas, etc. etc..... also we have no host anymore and amnesia is at an all time high

and we're STILL in denial every other day. introject heavy? denial. low splitting tolerance? denial. trauma? not bad enough for polyfrag, so denial. but also trauma? probably not even real. so: the system is also not real = denial.

doesn't help that we have designated denial holders who are sometimes sent to flood the front whenever someone's digging too far into our trauma history.

but we also don't feel polyfrag enough to be polyfrag. we're still relatively small in comparison to other polyfrag systems. we don't split more than three alters at once unless they split far away from front where no one notices it. we don't have layers unless we don't know about them. we have 1-3 subsystems from which one of them acts like a side system in a way.

we're medically recognized with DID with a complex structure (so basically C-DID), so where does all this denial come from 😭

oops that post was longer than intended

can we claim🖤🌷?

Yes you can!

[fictive-culture]

i just need. to ramble about my system for a moment. sorry that this is so long. god i love them

so. i was a Villain in my source. like, irredeemable killer kind of guy. I participated in what was essentially a fantasy genocide. I was a soldier, and i was PROUD of myself. I killed a princess of the people I was trying to wipe out; as a result I got my memories wiped and was placed in some sort of death game.

In my own, noncanon memories of source, I was also a system. There were only two of us, but we HATED each other. He hated how I hurt people and felt no remorse. I hated how weak he was. Eventually, our fighting came to a head when we returned home one day to find our entire village on fire. We never found our parents. I blamed him for leaving in the first place, for not being able to protect everyone. For 15 years, I forced him into dormancy. He only re-emerged once our memories were wiped.

When my sourcemates and I got introjected it was DIRECTLY before what we kind of consider my "turning point" as a character- when my memories flooded back and I killed one of my best friends in cold blood. Because he was One Of Them, and i couldn't be friends with One Of Them. Most of the time when people get introjected into this system we still live out our source lives for a bit inside headspace until someone has the energy to explain to us where we are and what's going on. I very nearly went through with killing that friend here in this system- they had to physically hold me back in headspace. My alter, the nice one, got his own form in headspace and used his own body to shield that friend. I wanted to hurt BOTH of them.

For several weeks I was kind of placed under constant watch by the local gatekeeper (a fictive of a protector god). But.... they weren't horribly mean to me? They were prickly, yes, but.. well, I wasn't there for it, but a long time ago our system had a whole deal with a gang of persecutors trying to harm the rest of the system- everyone managed to just slowly talk them down and reach an understanding, and since then we've had this philosophy that NOBODY in this system deserves to be hated, or locked away, or hurt, no matter how much they're hurting others. We can always figure something out- hurting them will only make them want to hurt us more. Compassion is the strongest route to change, at least here. They applied that to me- they wouldn't force me to befriend anyone, and wouldn't expect me to be especially nice, but I wasn't allowed to hurt anyone. And in turn, nobody was allowed to hurt me. They protected me from the others just as much as vice versa, since... none of my sourcemates in the system were particularly happy with what I'd done.

I don't even really understand how it happened at this point. I can kind of barely remember it all (for reasons outside of the system). But slowly, over time, my sourcemates started to warm up to me? They started allowing me to be near my previous alter, now turned brother I suppose. Neither of us liked it much, but we didn't hurt each other. And when I started feeling emotions other than anger and hatred for possibly the first time in over a decade, they... were all there for me?

The sister of the princess I killed was also in the system. She was furious with me about it- she even joined that source death game willingly just so she could kill me in there. But she got her memory wiped too, so she never got the chance. If I had succeeded in killing my friend, she would've been my next target. In the system, she straight up hated me, refused to be around me. I still didn't feel bad about anything I'd done or intended to do. We fought. A Lot. Over time, everyone else in the system tried to show me the people I was trying to wipe out were, well, people, and I slowly started to see why I was wrong. And then all of it hit me at once. Oh god, I nearly killed one of the few people who truly believed in me, someone who loved me and I had loved him back before I remembered who i was, and I had killed so many people in the past and laughed about it, and i had killed this woman's sister and then taunted her about it, and oh fuck what is wrong with me. And... I don't even know why. I think it was because she literally could not get anyone else in front. But she had to be there for me as it all came crashing down on me, and she... kind of stopped hating me. She had to hold me as I cried. And she just... did. She could've left me alone in front to deal with that on my own, but she didn't. I was TERRIFIED of her all of a sudden, believing everything she had wanted to do to me was right and justified and I think I even tried to convince her to go through with hurting me while none of the gatekeepers were looking. She refused. She understood why the gatekeepers were so insistent on keeping the peace, and right there she could see evidence of it working. She said I gave her hope that people can change. I think that scared me even more.

One of my sourcemates trusted me almost the entire time we were in that death game- in my canon finale she finally came up to me and said No, she's done believing in me, she's done helping me, she probably hates me now because of everything I've done. She left me to die, and honestly? I don't blame her. In the system, she was terrified of me. She would start to panic every time she was near me. Sometimes I tried to make it worse. But one day I was in front, starting to panic because I was frontstuck for a doctor's appointment I had no memory of what for. And... she was the one who comforted me. She was the one who helped me back out of front. She was also terrified the entire time, but when I seemed to make it clear I wasn't going to lash out, she settled right in to help. She hated our source- hated how everyone was constantly arguing, hated how many betrayals and backstabbings there were. When we introjected me and all my sourcemates, pretty much everyone else realised there's no reason to fight or distrust each other here and everyone became friends pretty quickly. She was ecstatic about that- she still is. She was kind of sad that I was the only one being excluded. She was determined to help me have that, too.

My alter turned brother really really wanted to attack me for nearly killing our best friend. He was actually the one everyone had to hold back from hurting me the most. And... he was also the first person to believe in me in this system. He thought, since we were a system in source, despite us being so different the things that were a part of him were also a part of me. If he had the capacity to be violent, I had the capacity to be kind. He was the first to try to convince the others to be kinder to me. Eventually I realised the amount of damage I'd done to him forcing him into dormancy all those years. He still believed he wasn't any older than twenty, to a point where in source when people called him old he would actually get scared and confused. He still presents that young in headspace. I'd call us twins if it weren't for that, it's just I'm in my mid-30s and he never even got to experience adulthood. I'm kind of glad that our body here is only just starting our twenties. It's like he gets a second chance. He was the main one trying to show me that the people i hated were in fact people. He's the closest now to our best friend I nearly killed. That friend started to be okay with me as soon as my brother did, he trusted my brother's judgement completely. Both of them were so nice to me. I felt like I didn't deserve it for what I'd done not only in source, but my entrance to the system as well. They tried their hardest to convince me otherwise.

I still feel like I don't deserve any of this kindness, don't fully understand why this has all happened. I still keep going on about how I don't even know if I've really changed, can I really change at all- they remind me that I'm so afraid to hurt anyone now that i won't even pick up a weapon now for like... any reason. That seems like change. I'm protective of them. I actually feel guilt, something I never did before. That seems like change. All of my sourcemates have warmed up to me now, all of us are friends. I love them. I protect them where I can, and in turn they protect me. I've learned how to cry again. I've learned how to laugh again. The first time they saw me genuinely smile here everyone cheered, it was so ridiculous but so sweet. Recently we watched through a playthrough of god of war ragnarok, and that kind of hit me close to home, but then everybody told me specifically to watch the valhalla dlc and it kind of broke me. They all want so badly to prove to me that I have changed and I do deserve this kindness now. I love them so much. I wouldn't trade any of this for the world. I'm so glad they were all so damn determined to help me change. Now I do the same for others in the system who are similar to how I used to be. I don't think I can express enough how much they all mean to me. I have a family now, when I was so convinced that after losing my parents I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. I feel their love and care around me like a blanket all the time now. I'm never, ever letting that go.

I really, really love this system.

.

[moogghost]

someone remind me to one day finish writing that guide we wanted to write about interacting with fictives because that's been sitting in our docs for months almost entirely untouched outside of me adding a few things to a section that was basically just an omen of me forming /hj /lh

like i know there's specific stuff out there and i will point to it if anyone asks and i usually reblog some stuff on here just because i know we have more singlet followers here than on our system blog and i think more singlets need to be aware of system/plural stuff in general but. we're an fictive heavy system there's some stuff that some of us especially want to point out to and it's been over a year since our syscovery so. yeahhh

[theseaofstarssys]

So I wanna talk about something on my mind that I don't see mentioned too often, at least not like this.

"Doubles DNI" is petty and overall harmful to those who use it and those it directly pushes away.

Now before I'm criticized by those who strongly believe that anyone having anything in their DNI is valid, having a DNI is not an issue. And even further, not wanting to personally interact with "doubles" isn't exactly my main issue.

(Whole rant beneath the cut, please read if at all interested.)

So what are doubles?

Doubles is what some fictives call others of their exact same source. In a sense some see it as those are like clones of yourself, makes sense why people wouldn't want to interact huh. Wrong.

Introjects are not their source first of all. While I believe having some attachment to source can be fine so long as it is a positive healthy attachment that doesn't cause distress or further dissociation, treating all introjects from the same source as their source is just wrong. This is essentially what "doubles" assume however. That everyone is like you and that's concerning.

Especially in the case of "problematic fictives", which is something I have my own issues with, it can lead to them being mistreated and assumed exactly like source when introjects can be wildly different. Basically the never judge a book by its cover thing especially applies here since fictives are not likely to be like their common conception.

Not only is this reinforcing a negative stance on fictives, it's also harmful to those who get pushed away because they have a "double". Especially if the "double" is only found later and you enforce your DNI on that whole system.

Quick storytime as an example, this happened to us somewhat recently. Someone that we trusted was really not okay with "doubles" of a certain fictive, one we happened to have but was inactive, and we were unaware of them, when initially meeting this person. So we became pretty alright friends with them. Now when this fictive came to light, they of course started interacting like anyone would, no we were not aware of a strict DNI, we were only told they "didn't like" other fictives of this character. Our fictive didn't really care, they didn't have to interact with him. This goes on for months pretty okay until we learn that this person started hating all of us, which did trigger some former abandonment trauma given we never did anything to harm them.

See how this can be absurd? All fictives are different and systems cannot choose who they get. Get over your doubles DNI or keep it to yourself.

[spicyclover]

Ultimatum | Part four

Summary: You give Charles an ultimatum. His apartment or you.  

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: All the information in this text is pure fiction, and the names and addresses are strictly fictive. I’m not a lawyer also, so I’m sorry if the procedure isn’t exact or conventional. Please bear with me.

It was only on the morning of Christmas Eve, the 24th, that you received a notification from your lawyer.

You opened your email, and what you saw left you speechless. 

Y/n Y/L/N

24 Av. de la Costa

Monte-Carlo, Monaco, 98000

December 24th 2022

To the honourable avocat 

Mr.Charles Leclerc applies for full custody of the child he made with Y/n Y/L/N. At the child's birth, he applied for full custody due to the unstable actions of the named companion. He asks for a no permission for the mother to have contact with the child once it is born. This motion is under inspection by Judge Carpinelli. He asks the child's mother to report to the court of Monaco for a session on 24 January. Meanwhile, a request to contact the doctor in charge of the pregnancy and in progress. Mr. Charles Leclerc also requests access to the accused's address to obtain the necessary documents for this procedure. Given the information above, my client is asking the court to order the child to live with him full-time without authorized contact with the mother. He also requests compensation for the emotional damage your client put him through. 

Sincerely  Lawyer Felipe Rossi.  

“What the fuck?” You gasp, trying to understand what's in front of you. 

You read the email several times before you understand what it means. He wants to take away your parental rights. “How can he do that?” The little device that control your level of stress starts going on. 

“Honey, what’s going on?” Question your mother worried about your sudden change of mood and the biping starting.

You don’t have the strength to speak and give her your laptop. She takes several minutes to process what she’s reading. “How could he do that?”

“He’s asking for full custody.” She mumbles under her breath. 

“He can’t do that.” Your voice breaks, trying to make sense of this whole situation. 

You didn’t think it would go that far. You suddenly feel betrayed and out of control. All your choices come back to you and all the conversations you’ve had with him, too.

“Well, apparently, he can.” Your mother adds given her husband the computer for him to read. “Since you refuse to let him be the father.”

“I do not deny that he is the father; I just don’t want to be around him right now.”

“Will you let him be around when the baby is born?” Ask your mother. 

“I... I don’t know. He hurts me, mom.” You burst into tears. 

“I know. But he’s powerful, and he has a lot of contacts.”

“Oh, my god...” This situation is going out of control, and your breathing quickens. This whole thing is starting to become a nightmare, and you didn’t think he was capable of that much cruelty.

A panic attack invades you, and you start to hyperventilate, unable to calm down. You begin to get dizzy, and your parents try to help you, at least they can, but impossible. How can he do that to you? After all, he did. He’s the one who slept with that girl. He’s the one who didn’t listen to you. He’s the one who didn’t want your comfort. He’s... he’s... horrible.

You start walking like a lion in a cage, your breathing gets overwhelmed, and you faint. The bipping going crazy. 

Charles can’t believe what he just did. All his dark thoughts and those around him encourage him to take up this voice. He knows it’s wrong, and he’s the wrong one. Why is he doing this? He doesn’t even know himself. Everyone’s rocking in his head, and he can’t back down.

The letter was sent, and his lawyer was notified. A sense of shame takes hold, and he can’t even look at himself in the mirror in his lawyer’s waiting room.

You wake up an hour later and calm down. Your thoughts gather, and you manage to sort without being overwhelmed. You gradually regain control of yourself. You feel your little girl agitating in your belly and caressing it distractedly. Feeling her close to you reassures you.

You find yourself alone in your room looking out the window at the seagulls flying. The sound of the ocean soothes you and you feel your tension return. The little bip machine the doctor gave you on your last visit to control your stress is slowing down again. The bip stops and you go downstair. 

You decided to call him on your mother's cellphone.

“Hello?” You hear his voice for the first time in weeks, and tear fills your eyes. “Hello? Who’s this?”

“Charlie...?”

“Y/n? It’s you?”

“Charlie, why do you do this to us?”

“Mon Dieu, babe, where are you? Are you okay?”

“Why do you keep doing this to us?” You cry on the phone, unable to breathe correctly and you device going on again. 

“Amour, where are you? Are you alone? What’s that bip? Are you in danger?” He asks panicking a little. 

“You hurt me, and I have to pay the consequence. You can’t do that to me.”

“Y/n, you took my child with you.”

“She’s still in me, you idiot. Of course, she has to go where I go.” You snap, getting frustrated by him. 

“Hey, you’re the one who disappeared, not me. I did not leave in the middle of the night without any warning or information.” He yells through the phone, frustrated to not have you with him. 

“You’re the one who jeopardizes our relationship, sleeping with other girls, humiliating me in front of everybody and screaming at me in the middle of the fucking street. And I’m the one who’s making mistakes here? You’re insane.” You scream back, your mother forcing you to seat down. 

“Fuck, you don’t realize how worried I am when I discover you were gone, and none of your friends didn’t know where you were either. You just disappear, and then you text my assistant a week before Christmas and not even me.” 

“Do you think it’s easy for me to deal with all of this alone?”

“Hey! You’re the one who left.”

“Because I’m mad at you. Not because I stop loving you.” You says calming down again. 

“You...”

“I love you. I love everything about you, Charles. But you keep hurting me and making mistakes that force me to band my moral to go around it. What happened with that girl? Was she worth jeopardizing our relationship? I’m so mad and in pain. You put me there, and now you don’t want me to be around my child, the one I’m carrying. The one you didn’t want at the beginning of all this. You can’t do this to me. Not after everything you did.”

“I...”

“I don’t want to talk anymore. I'll see you on the 24th.” You hang up the phone tossing it across the room. You apologize to your mother realizing you just destroy her phone, but she just shush you out of the room to your bedroom to get some rest. Real rest. 

You cried for hours this afternoon, trying to figure everything out. After the tears came depression, and then, and only after that, came the anger. You were mad. No, furious. You know all this didn’t come from him but from his mom. You know she will do anything to protect her son and take responsibility for his actions. 

You spend your entire Christmas Day in bed, unable to move or speak. You didn’t want to eat but forced yourself for your baby girl. Every time you rub your belly, you miss the touch of Charles on it. You miss him more than anything, but you wanted to prove to him and yourself that you didn’t need him. 

You made an effort to eat with your family the night of Christmas. Everyone tried to cheer you up, but something was broken in you. You really lost him, and you really lost Charles. All this drama put so much pressure on you that the same night, you start bleeding. 

You decided not to take any chance and went to the hospital. Right away, they took charge of you. You waited hours for the doctors to give you news, but nothing. You weren’t surprised because you were the 25th and everybody was celebrating with their family, but all this wait made you worried even more. 

Charles was with his family having dinner when his phone rang. 

“Hello?” 

“Charles, Charles Leclerc?” Ask your mother.

“Yes?”

“Y/M/N, Y/n mother. Y/n is in the hospital.” She says straight to the point.

“What?” 

“She’s in the hospital. She was losing blood, and we went directly to check it out. I’m not supposed to be calling you right now, and she didn’t want to worry you. But you’re the father and she loves, misses you very much.” She explains herself off tone. 

“Where are you?” 

“I’m not sure, she wants to see you, Charles.”

“I’m her boyfriend and the father. I'm coming. Tell me which hospital!” He orders directly, not missing this opportunity. 

“Centre hospitalier de la Côte Basque.” She hangs up the phone after whispering the information.

“She’s in France. All this time, she was this close,” he thinks, hanging up the phone. He rushes inside and excuses himself to everyone before taking his coat and leaving promptly. 

Charles didn’t waste any minute, and he drove for hours. He arrives at at 4 am the morning at the destination, and he barely parks his car and rushes inside. Almost screaming at the receptionist to find out where you are. 

You are in your room, sleeping with your mother stocking your head gently. After crying, you finally fell asleep. Breathing finally normally, you weren’t dreaming, and it was better this way. 

Charles sprint through the corridor before finding your room. He takes the time to catch his breath before passing a hand in his hair. He opened the door carefully. Your father gets up from his chair and grabs him by the collar the minute he walks in. 

“You have some nerve coming here after what you did to her, you piece of shit.” 

“I... I’m sorry.” 

“Y/F/N, let him go.” Speaking up, your mother, getting up and taking her husband's arm. 

Your father took several minutes before releasing his grip and walking away. 

“She’s sleeping right now. They sedated her.” 

“Is she okay? And the baby?” 

“Like you care about her,” pester your father, sitting back in his chair.

“I do...”

“Oh really, when?”

“I know. I didn’t want this to happen, so I messed up. But I love her. I really do.” 

You start to wake up. Wriggles in the hospital bed. You sight, trying to vanish the vapour of the drug. 

You slowly opened your eyelids, trying to get used to daylight. Still unaware of the atmosphere in the room, you moan, trying to change position. Your catheter hurts, and you blow a good blow before opening your eyes.

You search for your mother, but your eyes fall on Charles, who approaches you.

“Charles?” 

“Oui, mon amour.” He says, taking place next to you.

To be continued... 

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