#v;never rely on beauty it lies

[itsvenera]

summary: You and Sasuke have been caught in a toxic cycle of love and hate for as long as you can remember. Yet when you try to break free, he finds himself unable to let you go. (14k words)

warning(s): 18+ content (minors DO NOT INTERACT!), toxic! fem reader, toxic!Sasuke (a bit ooc as well?), mentions of cheating, love-hate relationship, p in v, oral (f! receiving), oral (m! receiving), fingering, unprotected sex

author's note: that was supposed to be a a short nsfw fic, yet somehow it became... this. Anyway, I am actually really proud of this one, so I really hope you enjoy! Shoutout to the anon who had send me their thoughts on toxic reader x toxic character , your message was main inspo for this one <3

Sasuke Uchiha has made many mistakes in his life. Fact.

The biggest one, however, had to be you.

From the moment he met you during one of his travels after the war, he could feel it deep inside his chest - a growing feeling of irritation, one that he has not felt since his early genin days. He has seen women like you before - ones that rely heavily on their beauty to get what they want. One coy smile or a seductive glance was enough to tilt the odds in your favour in every situation and - God! - did Sasuke hate it. How was it fair that someone like you could always achieve anything they put their mind to with such an ease, while others had to spend years in hard work while patiently waiting for their moment to shine?

But it wasn't just your looks that captivated people. Your wit, sharper and faster than his sword, had to be your biggest weapon - and you wielded it masterfully, he had to admit. You spared no man or a woman, as you let charming lies and sugarcoated compliments tease the egos of those around you, quickly turning them in nothing more than powerless puppets in your hands.

What angered him the most, however, is how aware you were of your power. You used it unapologetically, without even a single ounce of guilt or shame, as if it was your birthright to make everyone else around you bow to your will. So when he found himself in your bed just a few days after your first meeting, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust while his fingers squeezed your throat so hard, you could swear you were seeing stars, he convinced himself that you deserve no mercy.

No, far from it!

Women like you deserved to be reminded of their place. And Sasuke was determined to be the one to do it.

He kept reminding you over and over again for the short period he was visiting your village - in your bedroom; in the shower; on the table of the Council of your village; on the training grounds under the moonlight; in the secluded corners of the leader's (who was also your pathetic lover) building where no one dared to wander. He had made it his mission you understood - no matter how cunning your schemes were, you would never have the upper hand over him.

Being a good and changed man now, Sasuke knew he couldn't just let you drift through life relying on lies and using people. So he did what he thought was the best way to deal with a menace like you...

he married you.

It his mind, it was perfectly logical solution. If you were going to wreak havoc across the nations, Sasuke figured he might as well be the one to keep you in check. He had witnessed first-hand how many fools have fallen to your sweet deceptions and he knew that if there was one man who can handle you, it was him.

In addition, you were also the perfect tool to get his many 'fangirls' and Naruto off his back. He knew that as the last surviving member of his clan there was certain pressure for him to settle down, but he didn't expect that everyone would ‘demand’ it from him so soon after the war. He still had to atone to his sins, piece together the shattered fragments of his identity and find his place in this broken world. A relationship - let alone a wife and kids - was the last thing on his mind.

Yet it seemed that everywhere he went, the whispers of the 'last eligible Uchiha bachelor' were faster - by the time he entered a village, he was eagerly welcomed by elders who would parade young women before him, as if they were animals for sale.

It was sickening, really. And no matter how bluntly he expressed he is not interested, the people just didn't take the hint.

So if he could kill two rabbits with only one shot, then…

"We are getting married," he informed you on his last night at your village, while getting dressed. It was not a proposal, or even a question - just a simple, straightforward declaration.

He didn't even spare a glance in your direction as he adjusted his clothes, almost as if he didn't pump you full of his seed multiple times through the night. Unlike any other man you've met (and fucked) before, he was always eager to leave after you two were done. He never held you close or whispered sweet nothings into your ear - no, he hated you too much to put all that effort for a single fuck.

"I don't usually go for men with missing limbs," you snickered with that signature infuriating smirk on your face that drove Sasuke wild, "But I guess the good sex and your last name are worth for me to make an exception."

Sasuke only grunted in response, before leaving you alone in your bedroom. How did you manage to get under his skin so effortlessly, he'd never understand.

He was no fool, he knew that if it was any other man - even that short, fat loser who was your village leader (and lover) - you would've turned him down straight away. But he had something he knew you wanted badly and that was the name Uchiha. You were a smart woman and had calculated all the privileges - the power, the influence, the fame - that a union like that could give you. He knew you were not really interested in him, at least not in the way other women were.

You never fawned over him or actively sought his attention. Instead you were treating him with a level of indifference, gracing him your full attentiveness only when you were intimate. And even then you liked to show your bratty side, refusing to submit and leaving him with no other option than manhandling you till you admit surrender. But you never made it easy, that's for sure.

When he brought you back to Konoha, officially as his wife, everyone thought he had lost the last bit of sanity in his head for good.

"This has to be joke..." Sakura muttered as she watched you walk next to Sasuke into the Uchiha compound, the clan symbol proudly decorating the back of your kimono. She didn't want to sound jealous or envious, but you just looked so... not his type. She had always envisioned him with a strong woman - ninja, for sure - who could balance his cold and distant nature by providing him with all the love and warmth he has been deprived for all these years.

But you? You looked nothing like that. Sure, you were pretty, but you were a civilian who couldn't relate to the shinobi's lifestyle. How Sasuke chose you, a foreigner nonetheless, from all of the available women in Konoha was beyond her comprehension.

"I don't think it is, Sakura-chan," Naruto replied from his spot next to her, his eyes unable to move away from the way you swayed your hips while walking next to his best friend. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't look at someone else's woman like that, but how could he control himself? He knew he was too weak to resist you the moment Sasuke introduced you to him and Sakura, and your eyes lingered just a second longer on his, before you turned away, a small smirk grazing your lips.

To say that you had quickly became the favourite woman of every person in the village would be an understatement. All of the men, even geniuses like Neji and Shikamaru, seemed to fall under your spell without much effort. Your confidence, combined with your sharp mind and beauty, seemed to draw in everyone like flies to honey much to Sasuke's dismay. Of course, he expected from you to continue to try playing your little games even after bringing you back to the Leaf, but he thought better of his old teammates.

And it wasn't just the men in the village, either. Even the reluctant women who initially questioned your motivations, like Sakura and Ino, soon found themselves drawn to your company, seduced by the idea of not having to shy away from their femininity around you. All their life they have been taught that they have to train and work hard to be considered as something even close to a man's equal - yet, here you were, without any skills or fighting abilities, managing to wrap every single man around your finger and make them inferior to yourself. You were strong in a way that they hadn't considered before - through your confidence, charm, and most importantly, intelligence.

Sasuke was feeling torn by the whole thing. On one hand, he felt like he had failed in his goal to tame you and keep you in control. A year after he made you his wife, he found himself not only unsuccessful, but completely outsmarted and outplayed by you.

On the other hand, for less than half a decade, you managed to achieve what he thought he may not achieve in his whole lifetime. Not only you had carried his twin boys - a result of him bullying all his frustration and annoyance he held toward you into your tight little pussy every chance he got - but you somehow managed to restore the reputation of the Uchiha clan all by yourself. What was once a name connected only to criminals and bloodshed, was now associated with respect, political influence, and a sense of honor. You had restored the pride that Sasuke thought he never may regain again, let alone be given by someone like you.

When you asked him for a divorce one peaceful night during dinner, he thought he has heard you wrong. His mismatched eyes narrowed, as he studied your calm expression. After six years of using his name to climb to the village's higher circles and giving him sons to continue the legacy of the Uchiha clan, you suddenly wanted to leave?

"I think we had this dance for long enough, don't you, husband?"

Your marriage was far from perfect or even socially acceptable, you both knew that. From the very beginning, it was built on mutual benefits rather than love. Sasuke never grew to be a loving husband, at least in the traditional sense of the word, and neither you learned how to play the role of the typical 'caring wife' at home. Yet, after six years together, you somehow managed to fall into a twisted cycle of love desperation and need for each other.

It wasn't the type of relationship that inspired poetry or flowery fairytales. It was raw, obsessive, and painful. There was darkness in both of you, one which you greedily embraced, feeding off each other's flaws, insecurities and unhappiness. Your fights were loud and destructive, as venomous words were aimed at each other's weakest spots. He never missed a chance to remind you of how unlovable you were - a shiny and pretty empty shell that men saw for its beauty, not for its substance. You never held back in holding his past sins over his head, bringing even his own brother as an argument when you found yourself cornered.

"Kinslayer playing house," you would hiss, the edge of your lips turning slightly upward as you notice his eyes darkening, "I wonder what your dear brother would think if he saw you right now."

Furniture would break, plates would fly, and just like every time, you would find yourselves in your shared bed, tangled in the passion and chaos on which you both thrived.

It was toxic, but it was also consuming. Neither of you knew how to break free from these chains, and neither of you really wanted to. It was addicting, it was broken and it was yours.

Till it suddenly wasn't.

When you brought up the divorce, he knew you have calculated the whole thing - the twins were in the room next door and you never fought when your kids were around. If there was one genuine thing that came out from this marriage, it was your two boys Isao and Jiro. They were born a year after you wed and for better or worse, were a perfect mix of both of your personalities.

Isao was the older son - a confident and focused kid, who despite his young age, has already shown impressive skills with ninjutsu and taijutsu. He always looked up to his father, seeking his approval as he pushed himself harder and harder every day. In a lot of ways, he reminded Sasuke of himself - his black eyes were full of determination, as he refused to settle for anything but being the best in everything he did. Yet, unlike his gloomy younger self, Isao possessed a level of charisma that he surely inherited from you.

Everyone loved Isao - and he knew how to use it to his advantage to get what he wanted, even from you.

Jiro on the other hand, preferred to stay in the background and observe, rather than to be in the centre of the attention. He had Sasuke's calm and reserved nature and unlike his brother, he didn't seek anyone's approval or attention. Quite the opposite - he preferred to hold back his true strength, patiently waiting and strategizing for the right moment to unleash it.

"I'm not letting you take my kids away from me," Sasuke promised you that night, his eyes boring into yours as he sat at the other end of the table.

His voice was cold and firm, so different from his usual venomous hiss he uses during arguments with you. But in his mind this wasn't an argument - it was just one of your many silly tantrums, a move inspired by nothing else than the desire to get under his skin.

"I am their mother and their place is with me," you stated seriously without even a hint of the usual mockery which could always be heard when you were speaking to your husband, "You can still see them during weekends - if you are in Konoha and not chasing shadows of threats across the villages, that's it."

Sasuke's jaw tightened, as he slammed his glass down louder than necessary. You didn't even flinch, as you held his gaze which was slowly becoming darker.

"What are you getting at?"

"You know very well I am getting at," you scoffed, the calm and collected composure finally cracking under the heaviness of all unspoken feelings you carried inside your chest, "When was the last time you spend more than a few days with your kids? You're constantly on the road, doing God knows what, while I am left here-"

"Stop bringing the children into this!" he snapped, interrupting you mid-sentence. His voice was low but with a note of irritation, proving to you that he was holding back for the sake of your children next door. Your lips pressed into a thin line, your teeth gritting together while you pressed your back against the chair. There may have been a fire of defiance burning inside of you, but even you knew when to draw the line, especially when he used that voice.

"This is about you, isn't it?" he clicked his tongue, his head shaking from side to side, "About your greediness and unsatisfiable need to suck the life out of everyone around you, before you move on to your next victim. What, did you already exhaust all the benefits you got from carrying the last name Uchiha?"

The room suddenly grew colder, as you stared at each other, his words still lingering in the tense air between you. He was never one to shy from the opportunity to hit you where he knew it hurt the most and in typical Sasuke's style, it was not his final blow either.

"You talk about my failures as a father all the time, but what kind of mother uses her own sons as pawns in her silly power game?"

Your breath hitched in your throat and before you can even think about it, you grabbed the dinner knife on your right and hurled it in his direction, aiming for his head. He dodged it effortlessly, his eyes narrowing as he saw you reaching for your fork next.

"If you are trying to get my head, dear wife," he said almost mockingly, catching the next flaying utensil with his hand before slamming it down on the table next to him, "Have the decency not to do it while the children are next door."

Gripping the edge of the table to stop yourself from throwing your plate next, all you could see in front of your eyes was red. Blinding, raging red, which was threatening to consume you whole.

God, you hated him! You hated him, you despised him and if it was up to you, he would burn in hell for at least a few eternities!

"You are the last person who gets to lecture me on decency," you chuckled dryly, before reaching for your wine glass and swallowing a large gulp, "Did you also talk to your brother about it when he slaughtered your whole family? Or when you killed him?"

Sasuke's expression immediately hardened and his hand clenched into a fist. He has met many infuriating women in his lifetime, but you... you were a monster! A beautiful nightmare that had her claws deep into his soul, chewing and digging into his very core.

"I've told you not to bring up Itachi-"

"Or what?" you leaned forward, one elegant brow raising as you placed your chin on top of your crossed fingers, "What will you do, Sasuke? Divorce me?"

It was clear you were pushing his limits, Sasuke knew you well enough by now to see through your attempts to rile him up. Despite his realisation, however, it was too late - you had already buried your stinger under his skin, poking at his past wounds that never closed. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath while trying to control his nerves.

"I am not giving you a divorce," he said finally, his tone cold, "So stop throwing your tantrum and find other ways to pass your free time, which you seem to have in excess. Perhaps finding a job will do you good."

Sasuke got up from his seat, pushing his plate to the side before exiting the dinner room without casting even a single glance in your direction. You pressed your lips together as you watched him leave, the door closing with a quiet thud behind him. There was a brief silence, before you heard Isao and Jiro's laughter from their room at the end of the corridor. With a sigh, you got up and you started to clear the table.

. . .

Whatever you wanted, you got. Sasuke had seen you going great lengths to achieve what you wanted. Yet, he didn't think you would actually go this far.

As a Shadow Hokage, he was used to spending months away from home, investigating threats made toward Konoha and if necessary, taking all the measures to get rid of them before they can become actual problems. Most of them were coming from rebel groups in neighbouring countries, who were trying to stir another armed conflict between the nations, but sometimes there were unexpected surprises.

One of these surprises was the letter he received one sunny morning by Koyuki, the leader of the Land of Snow. She had warned Konoha about rumours of unnamed groups, who were actively recruiting members to start a new cult against the Land of Fire. Their motivation seemed unclear, but she had provided enough evidence to give both Naruto and Sasuke a reason to worry.

Leaving the same day, he spend three months travelling across the small country, interviewing civilians, chasing trials and collecting evidence before he found out that his whole thing was orchestrated by no one else other than his own wife.

It wasn't the first time he had found himself tangled in one of your schemes. You had not only the influence, but also the connections long before you became an Uchiha. After you got his last name they only intensified and a single word from you was enough to set a whole series of events and tangle dozen of innocent people in them.

The letter from Koyuki should've been the first sign something was going on. After all, he knew that you two did know each other and that she often described herself as "girl's girl", whatever that nonsense meant. And then all the evidence that kept pointing to no one in particular, before he finally realised this was all one carefully crafted deception.

There was no cult, there were no threats and there was certainly no one in the whole country that even cared about Land of Fire, let alone bother to threaten it.

At first, he couldn't understand what was your motivation. Were you doing it to spite him? To make him look like a fool? Obviously you didn't think about about the potential damage on the alliance between the two countries, and even if you did, you simply didn't care.

"I am sorry it came to this," Koyuki said as she was bidding him farewell at the village's gates, "It’s nothing personal. It’s just a favor to an old friend."

A favor.

The word ringed in his mind the whole way back home and Sasuke didn't completely connect the dots till he came back home, only to find the compound empty, a signed divorce pack laying on the table. He didn't waste even a second in flipping through the pages, his jaw tightening as he realised that not only he was your ex-husband now, but that you planned this whole thing to keep him long enough so you can convince the Hokage to sign your request to end your marriage in his absence.

"She said you both have reached an agreement and that you specifically gave your permission for her to deal with all the legal stuff, since you know... you were away for a while," Naruto said carefully once the Uchiha confronted him, his brows furrowing in confusion, "Is there something wrong?"

Sasuke had never pulled the curtain behind your marriage before, the image of your family always being perfectly polished picture of the ideal union in front of the society - a noble warrior with a beautiful influential wife, and two talented sons, both already known as the most promising young ninjas at the Academy. To the world, you and him were the epitome of love and success.

Only the two of you knew the truth and he was determined to keep it that way.

"Nothing wrong other than the fact that the Hokage allowed himself to sign papers affecting my life in my absence," Sasuke said coldly, before laying the report of his mission on the blonde's desk, "Me and Mrs. Uchiha have agreed to hold off any final decision until I returned. You shouldn't have dissolved our marriage."

Naruto's expression faltered for a moment, before his gaze hardened at the sound of his friend’s accusation. He wasn't seeing how he was the bad guy in the whole situation, when you were the one who sought his approval of your divorce petition.

"Sasuke," the Hokage said slowly, his voice suddenly sounding more serious than usual, "I was told by Mrs. Uchiha herself that it was a mutual decision and that it was already settled."

"Are you blaming my wife for your failure to follow the proper administrative procedures?" Sasuke snapped, his eyes narrowing at the man before him. If there is one thing he had learned from you, it was how to always turn the tables in his favour.

"She was alone for months and was probably worried sick if her husband will come back at all," he continued, conveniently missing the fact that it was all you who created this whole situation in the first place, "She was acting under the influence of her distress and worry. You, on the other hand, should've known better."

Naruto sighed, before rubbing one of his hands up and down his face. What was exactly going on between you and Sasuke, he would never understand.

From the outside, you two appeared to have everything one couple could wish for - stable family (or not so much now that your divorce was finalized), money, influence, respect. People looked at you and used you as an example of what they wanted to achieve in the future.

For a long time, Naruto also believed that perfectly crafted image, and deep inside, even resented his friend for building such a life. Of course, he loved Hinata with all his heart, but he couldn't lie and say that the intensity of his job hasn't affected their relationship. There were days when he couldn't even see the eyes of his kids, let alone talk to them or train with them. His wife has always remained patient and understanding, but his guilt had already become a constant in his mind.

And then there was Sasuke.

He was often missing for months on end, yet still managed to return to a happy family back home. His kids were cheerful and obedient, excelling in their training and seemingly never resenting their father's prolonged absences. Meanwhile, you - the beautiful and intelligent civilian wife - held the household together, while single-handedly cleared the Uchiha name of whatever bloodshed had tarnished it in the past.

It was yours and Sasuke's world and everyone else was just living in it.

Yet, the more he interacted with either of you, the more he could see how different and toxic you were for each other. He had no doubt you held some type of love for each other, but it was far from the gentle and nurturing kind he and Hinata had. Yours was raw, obsessive, sometimes even cruel.

He had seen the subtle cracks in your act before. Sasuke, with his silent obsession to control you, monitoring every single step you made. Who were you talking to, what were you wearing, when did you eat, how often have you left the house - he knew everything, even when he was miles away. He has abused his position before by having shinobi watching over you, reporting every detail of your daily life to him. Naruto knew about it, but at the time he was just excusing it as Sasuke being overprotective.

The longer it continued, however, the more distant you became. Sasuke had slowly cut off your ties with everyone he deemed an unnecessary connection - including many of his old friends - reducing everyone close to you to mere acquittances.

Yet, you remained defiant. There was a challenge in everything you did - from the way you liked to oppose him in public to the way you bribed the shinobi around your house so they would spare your ex-spouse some of the details of your daily life. You liked getting under his skin and, unlike many other women would, seemed to enjoy playing with his possessiveness. Sometimes your gaze would linger just a second longer on other men, while gracing them with a flirty joke or a seductive smile, before you turn toward Sasuke to check his reaction.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Naruto, his voice laced with frustration as he stared at his old friend. He already messed up by taking your word for the divorce agreement and signing the documents in Sasuke's absence, he wasn't sure he wanted to involve himself even more in whatever game you two were playing.

"You already did enough," the Uchiha scoffed, turning away and starting to walk toward the door, "Just keep your nose out of my and my wife's business. I will take care of this mess."

. . .

During the months following the divorce, Sasuke was more of a husband to you than he has been for the whole six years you were married.

It was ironic, really. After years of him devoting himself completely to the village, he had now taken "indefinite break" because he wanted to "spend time with his family". The first time you heard this rumour you scoffed, unable to believe that Sasuke would actually let go of his relentless pursuit of redemption, let alone because of his ex-wife and kids. However, you were proven wrong the moment Isao and Jiro came back from the Academy one day, all happy and smiling because "Dad said we are moving back home".

You have been underestimating him, it seemed. You always knew Sasuke Uchiha was a man who was persistent in chasing his goals, yet you always seen his idea of honour and moral as weaknesses - flaws that held him back, instead of push him forward. Not that you lacked any, of course, but your approach has always been a bit more... flexible. You weren't afraid to bend a few moral principles if it meant gaining the upper hand.

But your ex-husband was a completely different man from the one you had married six years ago. And for the first time since you met, it was him that was always one step ahead of you.

It started with the children first. Isao and Jiro have always looked up to their father, eager to prove themselves as worthy Uchiha in his eyes. Deep down, however, they were momma's boys. Maybe because Sasuke was absent so frequently and for so long, or maybe because it was just a natural bond, the one between a mother and her sons.

With Sasuke stepping back from his shinobi duties, however, the balance had shifted. He started to be the one to take them to school and pick them up in the afternoon; he spend at least a few hours every afternoon training each one; he took them on day trips across the Land of Fire on weekends. Suddenly he was not just an absent figure of admiration in their life - instead, he was an active father, a hero, a mentor.

Then, he used that newly created bond to pull you back to your old home. At first, it was one day per week "for the boys' sake". Then it was every weekend, because "the kids deserved some sense of normality". Soon, your "new normal" was to spend almost every night back in the Uchiha compound, the casual dinners stretching into overnight stays. It wasn't till Isao and Jiro informed you that Sasuke has told them you three are moving back "home" that you realized how quickly and effectively he managed to push himself back into your life.

He had finally cracked the key to make you submit - while you were quick to dismiss and say 'no' to him, you were powerless when it was your children pleading with you.

"Ironic how you were the one accusing me of using my own sons as pawns once, yet here you are, doing exactly that," you muttered one evening, while cutting vegetables for dinner. While Sasuke was decent enough to provide you with your own house in the compound, between the boys constantly asking for family dinners and your ex-husband orchestrating late night activities for them to bond, you spend the majority of your time in the main house.

Sasuke, who was seated at the kitchen table, looked up from the scroll he was reading, his dark eyes boring into the back of your head.

"Isao and Jiro deserve to have a normal family," he said calmly, ignoring the loud snort that left your lips after he said those words. You casted a side glance at him, one of your brows raising in mock disbelief.

When you didn't receive an answer, you decided that maybe, just maybe, you needed to take it a little bit further.

"I am not going to be here for dinner tonight."

No answer.

"I have a date."

Sasuke's hand stilled and he lowered the scroll once again, his eyes closing. He knew your games by now, he knew it was not beyond you to use other males' attention as a tool to test his patience, yet he couldn't help but feel his stomach twist at the idea of you going out with another man.

"With who?" he asked after a minute of silence, making you smirk to yourself. Ah, there it was - the little crack in his stoic armor that you have been searching for! No matter how much he liked to pretend he hates you or doesn't care about you, the good old trick of bringing a another man into the conversation always worked.

"Oh, you don't know him," you replied casually, sliding the chopped vegetables into the pot and make a few stirs with the wooden spoon, "He is not a shinobi. A kind man, attentive and gentle... with two arms. Everything you are not, really."

A loud scoff left his lips and you turned around to face him, the wooden spoon dangling from your left hand. Sasuke looked at you with furrowed brows, his hand slowly starting to roll the scroll back.

"Doesn't seem you type," he observed, his head finally lifting in your direction. He didn't look half as bothered as you expected, yet you noticed the faintest flicker of annoyance bubbling right under the surface.

You needed to push just a liiiittlleeeee bit more.

"Oh, he is exactly my type!" you grinned at your ex-husband, before crossing your arms in front of your chest, "Still wondering how did I get so lucky!"

Surprisingly your words seemed to humor him and he let out a dry chuckle, while standing up from his seat. You watched him come closer, and you could feel your breath hitching as you saw his hand reaching toward your face.

But right when you thought he was about to cup your cheek, he reached to the small bowl on the shelf behind you and grabbed an apple.

"I think the real question is how did he get so unlucky," he smirked at you before taking a bite.

The AUDACITY of this man!

"Glad to know your sense of humour is just as nonexistent as it was before," you rolled your eyes at him, before turning around to stir your soup. Despite your attempt to pretend his closeness did not affect you, he could notice the small blush on the tip of your ears and the sudden stiffness in your shoulders.

"I am not joking," he calmly chewed his apple, his eyes trained on the side of your face, "He must be quite the loser to go after a woman who is still living with her husband and kids."

You grimaced at his words, your head turning to the side as you challenged him with a glare. If looks could kill, he would've been long gone by now.

"Ex-husband", you corrected him, your jaw clenching as you caught the slightest twitch of his lips upward, "I know you were too busy to attend the divorce hearing with the Hokage, but-"

"I was not busy!" he suddenly interrupted you, his expression becoming serious, "I was away because you orchestrated a whole false cult, which put our alliance with the Land of Snow at risk, just so you can keep me away for long enough to lie to Naruto and get him to sign your petition."

There was a brief silence during which you narrowed your eyes at him, before you shrugged your shoulders.

"I told you I want a divorce."

"And I told you, I am not going to give you one."

His words made you pause, the spoon still held tight by your right hand while you were clutching your apron with your left. You gave a few more stirs to your soup, before setting the utensil down and turning fully toward him.

"I always get what I want," you smiled sweetly, before reaching for his face. Just like you did before, he seemed to freeze for a few seconds, completely thrown off by your gesture. Just when he thought your fingers may brush against his skin, you snatched the apple from his hands, a victorious smirk on your face.

"I thought you knew that by now."

. . .

It wasn't everyday that a man had the chance to take out a beautiful woman out for a dinner, and such an occasion deserved special preparation.

When your date came to pick you up, he made sure to wear his nicest clothes, put his most expensive cologne and buy the biggest bouquet at the flower shop. He lifted his hand against the massive wooden door, nervously checking that he was right on time, before knocking a few times. The door creaked open, but the view that met him on the other side was not one he expected.

"Uh... hi!" he stammered, his cheeks becoming a light shade of pink as the dark-haired man before him stared at him blankly. A few minutes of silence passed, during which Sasuke looked him up and down, before he raised a dark brow.

"Are you lost?" your ex-husband asked impatiently. So far the only true characteristic from your description earlier is the fact the man had two arms. But handsome? Pffttt.

The man blinked rapidly before clearing his throat a bit. Of course, he found it strange that you told him to pick you up from the Uchiha compound, as you were not with Sasuke anymore, but he assumed you got the house during the divorce proceeding. He didn’t think you lived together.

"No, no! I am here to pick up-"

"My wife?" Sasuke interrupted, his expression bored. He had to bite back a smirk as he looked at your date chuckling nervously, before scratching the back of his head. It was as clear as day that you did all this to get him jealous, but honestly you could do so much better than this idiot.

"Your ex-wife" the man furrowed his brows, mentally praying to all deities he could think of, that you did not in fact get back together with the Uchiha. Not that he blamed you - if he was a woman, he wouldn't let go of him in the first place. You had not told him much about your marriage or why you separated, but it was clear that whatever dynamic you had going on was way more complicated than he first thought. He had heard rumours in town that Sasuke still referred to you as Mrs. Uchiha and while you pretended you have not noticed, the Uchiha crest was still proudly decorating the back of all of your kimonos.

Sasuke let his lips curve in a small smirk, as he leaned against the doorframe.

"You got the wrong door," he finally said, nodding his head toward the rest of the compound, where a numerous small houses were standing, separated by tight dark alleys, "Mrs. Uchiha lives further down in the compound."

"Oh?", your date exclaimed, his face twisted in something between confusion and reluctance, "Well, I am sorry to bother you then-"

"Follow me," Sasuke suddenly said, completely ignoring what the other man was about to say, before stepping out of the house and walking down the stairs. Your date hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between your ex-husband and the now closed door, before reluctantly decided to follow.

"I am sorry if this is awkward-"

"Loose your tie a bit, you look like you are going to choke," Sasuke interrupted once again, his eyes trained on the dark path in front of him as he didn't even glance in the other male's direction, "And uncuff your trousers! It is ridiculous for a man your age to come to pick up a woman like my wife wearing socks with printed ducks on them."

Your date flushed red, as he hurried to loose his tie and fix the bottom of his pants, while Sasuke continued to walk toward the house where you were supposedly staying. For a moment your admirer wondered if this was not just one big ploy by your husband... ex-husband to get him alone and get rid of him. As he saw the shadow of your figure passing by one of the windows in the distance, however, he relaxed.

It was all fine. It was all going to be fine-

"Wait here," Sasuke instructed as they both reached the door, before reaching for the handle. Before the man can even open his mouth to reply, Sasuke slipped inside and shut the door right under his nose.

As you heard the door opening and closing, you came downstairs to the living room, where your ex-husband was standing with his hand on his waist. His eyes widened just the tiniest bit as they landed on your descending figure, his gaze slowly running from your hair, lifted in a straight high ponytail, to your chest where a gold metallic corset was pushing your breasts forward, showing just enough skin to wake up the imagination. The white fabric of your dress fell down in gentle folds, the high slits that run up each leg, offering a glimpse of your smooth skin with each step that you took.

Ethereal. Powerful. His.

If Sasuke had to describe with only a few words, it would be exactly these.

"Can I help you?" your voice brought Sasuke back to reality and he cleared his throat, his face immediately falling into its usual stoic expression. You smirked as you noticed the apple of his cheeks becoming a slight shade of red, the idea of still having that effect on him after years tickling your sensitive ego.

"Your date is here," he said blankly, his jaw clenching as he tried hard not to let his eyes wander down once again. Damn you, damn you, damn you! When did you even got that dress? Sasuke was pretty sure he knew each piece of clothing in your wardrobe and yet he has never seen this one. There was no doubt in his mind that you didn't do all this for the awkward loser outside, you did this for him.

"Alright," you hummed, leaning your head to the side as you fixed one of your earrings, "And why are you here? You could've just send him down, you didn't have to play the role of a tour guide."

And of course your big mouth just had to shatter whatever fantasy was swirling in Sasuke's head as he was still staring at you. He rolled his eyes, a quiet scoff escaping his lips.

"If I didn't show him where you are, he would've been doing circles around the compound all night," he gave you a funny look, as he lifted a brow, "Really? You said he is the "whole package" - kind, smart, handsome, ... so far the only true thing turned out to be that he indeed have all his limbs."

You clicked your tongue as you moved toward the large mirror in the corner of the living room, completely ignoring your ex-husband who watched each one of yours steps like a predator ready to pounce on his prey any second now.

"Oh, don't be so harsh!" you glanced over your shoulder so you can give him a small smirk, "He can be polished here and there, but he still has his charm."

He let out a small chuckle, as he started to make slow, deliberate steps in your direction.

"He came to pick you up wearing socks with ducks..."

You lifted a brow, your mischievous gaze meeting Sasuke's through the reflection of the mirror.

"Oh? I didn't know that they did socks with your face on them, let alone that he is a fan."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed at your childish jab, before his features twisted in amusement. Since you saw that one childhood photo with Team 7 years ago, you just couldn't let his old hairstyle go. While he usually would scoff or roll his eyes at your antics, now he held your gaze firmly as he closed the remaining distance between you, his chest pressing against your upper back.

"You have always been one hell of a woman...," he muttered, his breath tickling the back of your neck. Your breathing increased slightly as you watched him lean over your shoulder, the playful tension that was filling the room till now quickly turning into something else.

"Do you think he can handle you?" Sasuke continued, the side of his face pressing against yours as he continued to stare right into your soul. His hand made its way toward your waist, harshly pulling you back against him till you could feel the print of his hardness right against your bottom. You let out a short gasp, instinctively leaning back against him.

"Do you think he can keep up with your little games? To match your fire, your temper..."

His hand moved lower, the tips of his rough fingers grazing the bit of visible skin there causing another shaky breath to leave your lips. It was embarrassing, how wet and bothered he managed to get you just with a single stare and a few words. The lacy underwear you have been wearing was already soaked, sticking to your puffy lips as you tried to rub your thighs together before Sasuke dug his fingers in your skin, stilling you in place.

"You're so dirty," he laughs quietly, his chapped lips grazing the tip of your ear, before landing a small kiss right behind it, "Was that your plan all along? To bring a naive fool to our home, so I can fuck some brains into you? Remind you that you belong to me?"

The blissful state your mind was in was shattered to pieces as he reminded you about your date. Shit, he was right in front of the door! As if he somehow read your mind, just second later there was an urgent knock on the door.

"Hello? Anybody there?"

Your eyes widened and you tried to push your ex-husband's hand away from you, which made him only grip you tighter. His hips buckled against you and you bit your lip, holding back a groan.

"Tell him you are going to be a minute," Sasuke instructed against your ear, his lips slowly kissing their way down to your shoulder, "Don't send him away... yet."

There was a hint of darkness in his tone and this was your first sign that you should do anything but what he is telling you. As his hand slipped through the slit of your dress and between you thighs, however, you couldn't even form a single thought in your brain, let alone follow it.

"I will be a.. ah!... minute," you called out, your voice shaking as you felt your ex-husband dragging his fingers against your laced pussy, collecting the juices that were now freely flowing through the thin material, "I am just about to be... ready."

Sasuke couldn't help but smile triumphally not only at the fact that you did exactly what he told you, but that no matter how much you said you hated him and how many stunts you pulled against him, you could still crumble in his hand with him barely doing anything.

He grazed your soaked pussy, avoiding the bundle of nerves that you desperately tried to get him to touch by wriggling your hips left and right. It was laughable, really - you always talked back to him, you always liked to oppose... yet in moments like now, there was nothing but pathetic whimpers leaving your lips.

"Sasuke," you groaned in a hushed town, earing nothing but a low chuckle from your ex-husband. The pads of his ring and middle finger circled your entrance, his smirk becoming bigger as he could feel your soaked panties basically clutching to your lips now.

"What is it, my wife?" he dragged the last word down, his mouth latching against the sensitive skin on the side of your neck. Your head fell back against his shoulder, both of your hands now gripping his muscular forearm as he finally pushed your panties to the side. As he reached for your clit, gently rolling the little pearl against his thumb and forefinger, you let out a loud moan, unable to hold back anymore. Your knees buckled and you pressed your ass and back firmly against him, seeking any type of steadiness before you fall to the floor.

"What do you want, hm?" Sasuke muttered, his eyes moving back to the mirror so he could observe your fucked out expression - eyes shut tightly; glossy lips open in the prettiest 'o' shape; red colours spreading from your cheeks all down your neck... Fuck, you were a handful, but for this sight he was ready to take anything you threw his way - from insults to your poor attempts to make him jealous.

"Sasuke, you know what I want," you whined again, your head rolling against his shoulder till you found yourself face to face with him, "Just give it to me."

In any other situation he would've made you wait longer - after all you had been giving him nothing but headaches in the past few months. But as he looked down at you, his pretty wife, who was practically asking him to take her once again, to reclaim her as fully his... How could he say 'no'?

Spreading your glistering puffy lips apart, he collected some of your arousal, before roughly burying two fingers inside. You immediately fall forward, your hands gripping the sides of the mirror, as Sasuke immediately start pumping his digits in a rough pace. It's not hurtful - you are so wet, you are pretty sure you could even take his dick without any preparation - yet he couldn't mask the slight smugness he felt once he felt how tight you were. A clear sign you haven’t been with another man since him.

“Ah-Sas-..Sasuke!” you panted as his fingers brushed that one spongy spot inside of you that was making you see stars. The room was filled with your gasps and the slick sound of his hand rhythmically moving in and out of you, so loud that Sasuke was sure that the poor fool outside was hearing just as clearly.

As he felt the slight shiver of your thighs he roughly pulled his fingers out, before landing a loud slap on your quivering pussy. You gasped, your eyes immediately opening wide so you can glare at your ex-husband.

"Arrogant prick!" you thought as turned to face him but before you could say the words out loud, he wrapped his hand around your forearm before roughly pulling you toward the door.

"What are you doing?" you hissed, your eyes widening as your stumbled after him. You expected the jealousy, but making you open the door in the dishevelled state you were in was just cruel. Sasuke didn't answer, but just as you thought he would open the door and force you to face your poor date, he turned you around and slammed your back against it.

"Hello? Is everything okay in there?" your date's voice sounded and Sasuke couldn't help but roll his eyes. There is no way that idiot did not hear your whimpers of pleasure and especially the sound of your drenched pussy sucking your ex-husband's fingers in an out, why was he still here? He was either deaf or really, really ignorant.

Either way, Sasuke was determined to show him who you belong to. Or even better, he was determined to make you show him.

"Everything is fine... I will be a minute," you called out, your eyes focused on the mismatched ones of your lover - fuck, ex-lover.

Damn you, Sasuke Uchiha!

Deep down whatever consciousness you had left was quietly whispering that you should feel bad. That you actually genuinely liked the man on the other side of the door and, for once, you wanted to experience love. Real one, gentle... like the ones of all the other couples you keep seeing on the streets. Without the fighting, without the hatred, without the constant pain and hurt.

Yet as you stared at Sasuke, you felt yourself being consumed once again by the fire that has always burned between you. It was maddening and reckless to go back into the same cycle, the one that felt more like a battle rather than war.

"You are unbelievable!" you groaned quietly, your teeth gritting against each other, "Why can't you just let go? I don't want you anymore! I want something normal, something that doesn't hurt all the time!"

Sasuke's expression darkened and he narrowed his eyes while studying you. He remained silent for a minute and you thought that he may finally back off, but instead he stepped even closer, trapping you between his muscular chest and the door. His hand moved to cradle your jaw, while his head leaned forward.

"You can keep repeating the same lie over and over," he muttered, his lips barely brushing against yours, "But you know that is not who you are. It's not who we are."

A small sigh left past your lips and Sasuke used it as sign to close the little distance between you. You and him have been intimate thousands of times before, but your shared kisses can be counted on the fingers of your one hand. Maybe because kisses were usually saved for lovers, the one that shared the sweet and kind type of love, rather than the raw and brutal one you had between you. Or maybe they have always been too intimate, a confession that neither of you were ready to make till now.

Unlike other times this kiss was not just a peck or a battle of dominance. It was slow and deep, an act which was supposed to show everything that both of you couldn't put into words. As he licked your bottom lip, you opened your mouth to welcome his tongue in it - an opportunity which he eagerly took, pressing you harder against the door with his body. His hand roamed between your waist and your thighs, before he reached for your chest, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing roughly.

"Ah, Sasuke!" you gasped your head falling back, as his lips moved down your neck, softly sucking and biting the sensitive skin there. While there was a certain roughness to his moves, he was still way gentler than usual, making you rub your thighs together in a weak attempt to get some friction. He must've saw that because a second later, he roughly pushed his own leg between yours, preventing you from getting any type of relief.

You opened your eyes just enough to send him a glare but closed them once again as you felt his fingers swiftly untying the top of your corset, before pulling your breasts out and pinching your left nipple. Sasuke could barely hold back a smirk, as you watched your back arch forward, seeking even closer contact with him.

As he moved down your body, placing damp kiss down your collarbone, chest and side of your breast, his hand found it's way under your dress once again. He started to draw small circles on your swollen clit, as his lips wrapped around your other nipple and before you could sink your teeth in your lip, you made the loudest, most pornographic moan both Sasuke and your date have ever heard.

A few moves were enough for your legs to start trembling once again, the knot from your previous denied orgasm forming once again at the pit of your stomach. You opened your eyelids as you looked down at Sasuke, who was still kissing, sucking and biting your breasts, leaving his marks all over the soft skin.

"Sasuke...," you mumbled, your hips buckling as he slipped two of his fingers inside, his thumb increasing its pace on your clit. Suddenly everything felt overwhelming - the image of your ex-husband in front of you, the sound of your date who was now eagerly knocking on the door behind you, mumbling something about how all the Uchihas can go to hell, the light above you which was suddenly shining brighter the closer you were getting to the edge.

"Come for me," Sasuke muttered against the plush skin of your boob, the harsh bite that followed enough to make the knot inside of you snap. Your fingers pulled his black locks earing a small hiss from him, finally freeing your chest from his lips.

He held you close to him as you slowly came back to your senses, your body limp in his arms. The knocking on the door behind you had stopped long ago, the memory of your date swearing and throwing the flowers he had brought against the window next to you now echoing at the back of your mind. Before you had the time to think about him, however, your ex-husband fell to his knees, his hand lifting one of your legs on his shoulder as he lifted your dress above your hips.

Sasuke had felt the lacy material under his fingers earlier, but as he was now looking at the type of underwear you had chosen to go out on a date with another man, he felt the earlier jealousy coming back to his chest. White lacy panties, which were now drenched with both your arousal and the juices from your release, with a white bow on the front... really?

"Were you planning to let him fuck you?", he asked annoyed, his forehead creasing as he glanced up at you. A bright red colour covered your cheeks, but you turned to the side, refusing to answer.

Were you? Sure, maybe the thought had crossed your mind and maybe this is exactly why you choose these panties. But deep down, you knew that even if you went on that date and let him bring you back to his house, you would've probably backed out in the last minute.

No one can handle you the way Sasuke can.

"Answer!" Sasuke snapped impatiently, his fingers pinching your swollen and oversensitive clit through your panties. You quickly shook your head, your hands burying themselves in his silky hair once again so you can pull his head away just enough to see his eyes.

"Of course not!" you said and Sasuke rolled his eyes, half-expecting for you to deny the truth anyway. If he wasn't face to face to your drenched cunt, the aroma of your juices fogging his mind with only one thought - that he needed to have you - he would've probably told you off. But even if he was one of the most powerful men on the planet, he was still just a man - and with this ethereal sight in front of hem, he could do no more than remain on his knees and worship you the way you deserved to be worshiped.

With one harsh move, your panties pooled down your ankles while your ex-husband buried his head between your legs. Sasuke always prided himself to be a man of self-control and discipline, yet the moment he got to taste you, he forgot any of that.

Heavy puffs of air mixed with loud moans, as he latched his slightly chapped lips on your clit, sucking harshly before lightly flicking the tip of his tongue against it. Your hands harshly gripped his hair, making an attempt to push him away from your oversensitive folds, which were met with a rough slap against the inside of your thight.

"Hold still, brat," he mumbled as his tongue buried itself inside of you, his nose rubbing against your shiny pearl. You wanted to snap at him, tell him he knows how much you hate when he calls you that, but your body could do nothing else than to buckle against his face, your eyelids shutting down so tightly, bursts of rainbow colours infiltrated your closed vision.

He could feel your walls tightening around his tongue, more of your sweet nectar flowing from your pussy as he hungrily drank everything you gave him. Sasuke was rarely so desperate and open, completely giving up control as he made a mess out of both of you.

"Sasuke, please-," you tried to beg, an usual softness filling your voice as you sought mercy from him. And while his pants were getting uncomfortably tight, he wanted to teach you a lesson, to show you that you are his and his only. You deserved no mercy.

Not after all your little stunts recently.

Sasuke could feel his tip leaking pre-cum just from all the sweet sounds you made, encouraging him to only start lapping at your puffy lips faster and faster, his fingers digging themselves into your soft thigh as you tried to pull away and push yourself closer at the same time.

"One more," he whispered into your pussy, his lips and chin dripping with your arousal, "I know you can give me one more."

You whimpered in response, your head falling back as he pulled a second orgasm out of you, slurping all of your juices without pulling away even for a second to breathe.

His erratic movements soon turned into sloppy licks as he cleaned you up, his tongue catching every single drop of your release. You twitched in his grasp, weakly pushing him away, the feeling of his mouth too much for your oversensitive pussy right now.

Sasuke slowly lowered your leg from his shoulder back on the ground, his arm tightly gripping the side of your hip as he tried to stabilize your quivering form.

"You came only twice and you are already shaking like a leaf," he noted with a smirk, before standing up back to his feet. Blinking a few times, you tried to ground yourself back to reality, before your arms found their way around his neck, leaning your full weight against him.

"Gosh, just shut up!" you mumbled, not wanting to break out from your euphoric state just to deal with the annoying ramblings of your ex-husband. He clicked his tongue, his hand moving to your lower back and pressing you flush against him.

For the first time in all the years you have known each other, you stood in each other's embrace without the weight of anger, hate or pride threatening to crush you. There was no shouting, no flying objects, no painful insults - just you, holding each other and silently admitting that neither of you wanted normal.

You craved chaos. You craved the intensity, the frustration, the pain, the longing.

You craved him.

Pulling back just enough to look at him, your eyes searches his mismatched ones for something - anger, hesitation, adoration, anything. You wanted... you didn't even know what you wanted either. Maybe some clarity, maybe a sign that it doesn't always have to be this messy, this hurtful and this complicated.

All you were met with was the same dark gaze that he always had when he laid his eyes on you. It was never loving or soft, not in the way that he was looking at your children, for example. With you they were always holding a storm of emotions behind them, one which you could never fully decipher.

Desire? Regret? Irritation? Admiration? Pride? Hate?

They were all there, clashing and mixing in such a way that you were never sure if he was looking at you like you were his biggest regret in life or like he couldn't bear the thought of you being anywhere else but by his side.

Hesitantly, you lifted yourself on your toes and pressed your lips against him. It was a gentle peck, unlike your kiss earlier. Sasuke stiffened for a moment, his eyes widening at the unexpected softness from you. Was this another one of your games? But before he could think more about it, you grabbed his hand and started to pull him back into the house and up the stairs to your bedroom.

Sasuke followed you almost instinctively, a certain cautiousness to his steps. He watched you open the door, before you gently pushed him in till the back of his knees hit the bed and he reluctantly sat down. His eyes twitched as you stood before his open legs, expertly undoing the rest of your corset before throwing it to the side. Your hands then slowly pushed the straps of your dress down, allowing it to fall down at your ankles, leaving you completely bare in front of him.

"What are you doing?" he asked sharply as he watched you climb up his lap. Despite his hostility, however, he didn't push you away. Instead his eyes bore into yours, studying you and trying to understand the underlying motive of your actions.

You were never this... soft. Not with him, anyway. Your sex life was a mirror of your relationship - urgent, rough, fast. You never made love - you fucked. It often felt like a battle of dominance, rather than a union between your bodies.

Now, however, you were taking your time. Your forehead gently pressed against his, as your hand started to slowly unbutton his shirt, before sliding it down his muscular shoulders. You have seen his body countless of times before, but this time it felt different. There was no other light other than the bright moonlight coming through the window, as you dragged your fingers across the numerous healed scars across his skin. It was such a stark contrast - the softness of your hands, ones that never even held a weapon, against the roughness of his body, one built for battles and war.

His breath hitched as he felt one of your hands slide down the shoulder of his missing arm and he involuntarily twitched away, almost as if he was trying to hide it away from you. His reaction was not surprising - he always tried to hide the imperfect parts of himself, his Rinnegan and his missing arm, either by using the solace of the darkness or by having you in such positions that your back would be facing his naked form.

In this moment there was nowhere to hide. And Sasuke wasn't sure he liked that.

"Don't," he said, his voice rough, "I swear, if this is one of your games-"

Another unexpected peck on his lips interrupted his train of thoughts as you continued your exploration of his body. It was weird not only for him, but also for you - he never let you in like that, not when he was completely exposed and vulnerable. It felt like you explored him for the first time, and in a way, you actually were. No walls, no layers of hate and tension between you.

"Shh...," you whispered, your breath ghosting across his skin, "I am not going to hurt you."

Sasuke wanted to scoff at your words. There was no reality or place in time where the two of you didn't hurt each other. Neither of you knew how to stop. Pain was part of who you were and as twisted as it was, it was at the core of your love for each other.

His muscles tensed as your hands slid down his abs and started to work on the strings of his pants. His hand instinctively shot out to catch your wrist, stopping your mid-way of unzipping his pants, as his breathing became heavier. He locked his eyes on you, searching for a sign, any sign that you were just playing him - either a small smirk or a mischievous spark in your eyes - yet there were none.

The look in your eyes was one of a lover, not an enemy.

Loosening his grip on your wrist, he watched you as you pulled his zipper down before he lifted his hips so you can slide down his pants. Your lips found their way to his neck, pressing soft kisses against his warm skin as you slowly trained downward. He let out a shaky breath as he felt you kissing his scars, spending extra time on the ones on his chest and abdomen before you slid down on your knees in front of him.

In the past, you have always refused to pleasure him orally. "It's something that only lovers do", you would say with a frown, drawing a clear boundaries of what you were willing to do in the bedroom. Sasuke never pushed for it, either - one thing about him is that no matter how dominant or controlling he was, he respected your wishes. As someone who wasn't particularly needy or with a high libido, he didn't care that much.

But as he watched you grab his rock hard cock in your hand, slowly rubbing your thumb across the tip and smearing the leaking pre-cum, he wondered if he actually didn't care or if he just never knew what he was missing. The sigh before him - his beautiful, defiant wife sitting on her knees and slowly pumping his dick, while placing soft kisses across his thighs - was one that has only appeared once or twice in his dreams before.

Your pace was slow, almost painful as you moved closer and closer to where he was needing you the most, your eyes shifting toward his face every few seconds in order to catch each one of his reactions. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed loudly, a pink colour covering his pale cheeks and neck. His eyes bore into yours, a barely addible moan leaving his lips once you finally wrap your lips around his pink mushroom tip.

Digging one of your hands in his thigh, you take more of him, slowly moving your head back and forth while coating his dick in a mix of your spit and his pre-cum. Sasuke groans once he feels him reaching the back of your throat and his hand instinctively goes to your head, gripping your ponytail as he tried to ground himself and not cum right then and there.

If there was heaven, this had to be it. And maybe he was there, because in what world would his ex-wife suck him off on an evening she was supposed to be out with someone else? You looked up at him through your lashes as you hollowed your cheeks, a new wave of pleasure washing over your body as you saw him closing his eyes.

"Fuck...," he breathed out, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on the top of his forehead, "My wife... just like that.."

His words only seemed to encourage you and you hummed around him, the vibrations making him buck his hips involuntarily. As you started to move faster, his grip on your hair tightened and your hand trailed down back between your legs where your pussy was clenching around nothing.

You pulled away slightly, twirling your tongue over his slit before sliding it down all the way down to his balls. You laid a few small kisses on each one, before taking his left one in your mouth and sucking harshly, earning yourself a sharp gasp from him. It was almost intoxicating, having so much power over a man, who had spend years trying to make you submit to him.

As you took his cock in your mouth again, you put even more effort in trying to bring him closer to the edge. Burying your face against his h pelvis, you flattened your tongue as you felt his head brushing at the back of your throat. Shiny tears started to roll down your cheeks and you gagged around his fat length, the need to pull away to take a breath burning your lungs, yet you didn't stop.

"Ah.. I'm.. close...," he breathed out and you could see his chest starting to move rapidly up and down, as his hold on your head tightened. Once you started to feel him pulsating, however, you pulled out with a loud 'pop', grinning once he gives you a nasty glare.

"What the actual fuck?" he snaps, his brain still foggy with the need to cum, "Are you serious?"

You only roll your eyes in response to your ex-husband's dramatic reaction, before you stood up and made your way back on top of him Resting your hands on his chest, you pushed him down till he was laying flat on his back and you hovered your dripping cunt over his pulsating cock.

Whatever other complaint he was ready to give quickly died in his throat as the moonlight exposed your full beauty in front of him - makeup smeared across your cheeks, fat tears still pooling at the corners of your eyes, pussy glistering in the juices of your own arousal. It was a messy sight - filthy, even - and a perfect representation of your love for each other.

"I need you inside of me," you gasp, your thighs trembling as you brush your swollen clit against his tip, "I need to -ah! I need to feel you!"

You didn't wait for a response as you grabbed his cock and the base and aligned it with your entrance, before slowly sinking in. Your eyes remained locked on his and almost in unison, a loud moan left both of your lips.

"Fuck..," you whimpered, your walls involuntarily tightening around Sasuke's dick as you adjusted to his length. His mouth and fingers could make you see stars, but nothing could even remotely compare to the feeling of having him inside of you. It felt like you were made for each other, his thickness stretching you out just enough for the pain to be pleasurable.

As you started to slowly move up and down, Sasuke gripped the side of your waist helping your keep a steady rhythm. His teeth sank in his bottom lip as his moved down and focused to where the two of you connected.

You let out a loud yelp when he suddenly landed a heavy slap on one of your plush ass cheeks, digging his fingers into its softness. He could feel your juices leaking all over his thighs, the sound of skin slapping against skin becoming louder as your moves become faster.

"Good girl," he muttered, his feet planting firmly on the bed so he can start thrusting up. He did try to entertain the idea of giving you control at least for one night, he really did, but fuck - how could he, when you looked so divine above him?

The new angle allowed for his cock to hit straight into that one sensitive spot inside you and you suddenly lost balance, collapsing on top of his chest as his hand moved toward the back of your head, keeping you down so he can hit that same spot over and over again.

"Sas-ah!" you whined, your nails digging into his hard chest, leaving angry red marks after themselves. Sasuke could only smirk, his heavy breath tickling the side of your face as he picked up the pace.

"What's wrong?" he teased, his hand yanking your head back by your hear so he can inspect your face, "Did you get tired already?"

Opening your eyes, you let out a few tears fall freely down your cheeks as you glared down at him. The mix of pleasure and pain was clouding your mind and you could do nothing but moan helplessly as he roughly fucked you, completely disregarding the sensual and gentle tone you tried to settle earlier.

As you started clenching around him, the first sign that you were approaching yet another orgasm, Sasuke swiftly turned you around, laying you under him as he hovered over you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, yet not entering fully.

"Sasuke," you whined, trying to move yourself down so he can fill the burning emptiness inside of you, "C'mon, don't stop now!"

Sasuke only smirked at your words before grabbing his cock, sliding it up and down your pussy lips, before flicking your aching clit with his head. You let out a small moan, the oversensitivity causing your cunt to clench around nothing.

"Beg for it."

No amount of pleasure could cloud your mind enough for such words to slip by without your eyes immediately widening. Was he serious? As you watched him looking at you with that small annoying smile on his lips, you tried your best to avoid the aching need between your legs as you snorted loudly in response.

"I rather die needy and unsatisfied," you huffed, your brows furrowing as a small crease appeared in the middle of your sweaty forehead, "Than to beg my douchebag ex-husband to fuck me."

Your words seemed to humour him as he pushed the tip in, earning a small gasp from you before withdrawing again, his hand slowly pumping his cock as he watched you wriggling beneath him.

"What happened to "I am not going to hurt you"?" he tilted his head to the side, "I thought that included insults and your usual low blows as well."

You rolled your eyes, frustration mixing with annoyance as he continued to stroke himself in front of you, completely ignoring the fact you were dripping with need to be touched by him.

"Since when you are such a rambler?" you snapped, a loud huff escaping your lips as you started to lift yourself on your elbows, "If I knew you would waste my night like this, I would've just spend it with my date inste-"

Your sentence was cut off short as he suddenly wrapped his hand around your throat, pressing you back into the pillow as he entered you with one move. He was not gentle or careful - his dick slid all the way in, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he dug his nails into your neck.

"Shut up!" he hissed, as his pace increased even more from before. Your legs dangled weakly around his hips, as you shut your eyes, the all familiar knot starting to form inside of your stomach once again. His pace was brutal, almost animalistic, as the headboard of the bed was hitting against the wall with a rhythmic thump! thump! thump!.

"You always have to open your big mouth, don't you?" he panted, his abs clenching as he adjusted his hips forward, practically folding your body under his weight, "I'm sick of your little games, I'm sick of your attitude... fuck, I'm so sick of you!"

Instead of taking insult, your jaw dopped in a silent scream as your back arched in pleasure. You could feel your orgasm coming closer and closer, as Sasuke was squishing your under his body, his pelvis rubbing against your pulsating clit. You could feel his pace becoming more erratic as he chased his own pleasure, his fingers still tightly wrapped around your throat.

"You are going to marry me again," he panted against your mouth as he pressed his forehead against yours, "And this time I won't let you go... Ever. Again."

Just like the first "proposal", this was more of a declaration rather than a question. And just like the last time you found yourself unable to defy him, as his words combined with the way you could feel each inch of him rubbing against your tight walls, was enough to send you over the edge.

A loud moan escaped your lips as your pussy leaked cum around his cock, forming a white circle at the base. His hips stuttered as he felt you clamp around him, ropes of thick cum filling your tight pussy till it started to overflow with his seed. He thrusted once, twice, making sure he had emptied fully inside of you before he collapsed on top of you, his face burying where your shoulder and neck meet.

You let out a sigh, your hands instinctively wrapping around him as you ran your fingers through his black hair. Slowly, his breath became steadier and his heart rate slower as both of you let the reality of what you just did settle. His last words rang in your head, as your eyes remained focused on the ceiling above you.

"It would never end, would it?" you whispered in a hushed tone, almost as if you were hesitant to break the silence between you two. Sasuke stilled, his head moving to the side so he can give you a questioning glance.

"This cycle that we are in... This constant push and pull, the hurt, the twisted love that we have for each other. "

You could feel his body tense at your last words, as he let them sink. Slowly, his hand let go of your throat, before he gently brushed a few hairs away from your sweaty forehead. His gaze softened as he adjusted his position so he can study your face, his eyes trailing down the messy streaks of makeup down your cheeks.

"No," he finally murmured, his voice quieter than usual, "Maybe it's not meant to end. Maybe that's just who we are."

"What? Broken?", you laughed dryly, turning your head to the side so your eyes meet. Sasuke's expression remained blank, as his hand moved down so he can take yours in his. He didn't answer but the way his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened were enough of confirmation. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but this is exactly who you were - two broken people who never learned to give or receive anything else other than raw and painful love.

"I do love you," he suddenly said, breaking the short silence that has settled between you, "But I only know one way to."

His confession hung between you as an open wound that both of you tried to cover for too long, causing a mix of relief and heartache to swirl inside your chest. His fingers brushed against your ring finger, where your wedding band once was, and you closed your eyes, silently accepting that no matter how hard you tried to escape, you were always pulled back.

Letting go of his hair, you reached toward the bedside cabinet before you pulled first drawer open, and you got a small velvet box out. Inside, your polished wedding band shined brightly, reflecting the moonlight as you pulled it out and slid it back on your finger. Sasuke's eyes carefully followed your movements, before he took your hand in his once again, his head falling against your chest as he inhaled your scent.

You had made many mistakes in your life. Ironically, the biggest one was not him.

Instead, it was the illusion that you could escape from him, or from what you had. You couldn't. And the truth is, deep inside, you didn't want to.

cc artwork: pinterest <3

[harleyxhoward]

Analyzing The Abilities of Characters From The Boys Pt. X

💎Cate Dunlap💎

Cate’s one of my favorite onscreen villains, seeing as how she takes the whole Queen of Mean trope and gives an audience something to worry about.

Cate’s ability is a tactile form of mind control, along with a seemingly unstable form of telepathy. While she can read minds, she seems to have difficulty fully controlling the individual thoughts she wants to pay attention to. I’m assuming this is from her relying on power suppressants which made her rusty at mind reading, especially since she seems to be off the pills and completely fine now.

I would imagine that at the point of the V in her system giving her this ability, she would have just been coming into her own as a woman in a world that tells young girls to hyper-obsess about their social impact on the world around them. Imagine if you shot a young Regina George up with Compound V. Wouldn’t having the ability to read the minds of her teenage subjects and force them to think, believe, and do whatever she wants by placing a guiding hand on their shoulder be a perfect mutation for her body to produce?

Having the ability to command people to do her dirty work based solely on touch, Cate relies on the fact that her beauty and unassuming nature would allow her to get close enough to touch any potential opponent. This way of thinking reminds me of Glimmer from “The Hunger Games”, seeing as how in the books, she attempted to sneak in a diamond ring that, upon unscrewing the jewel, revealed a poisoned spike. A weapon like that wielded in a battle royale style death match is unimaginably arrogant and short sighted. While it may seem cunning, her entire battle strategy hinged on her beauty and ability to draw close enough to another tribute while their guard was down to prick them with a mini spike. Cate, regardless of her own agency in the matter, shares a similar viewpoint. It wasn’t until Marie blew up her arm that she was forced to confront the fact that, when her reach is snubbed by a legitimately strong influence, she’s ultimately powerless.

The ultimate tragedy of her character is a lack of true intimacy. After she unwittingly compelled her little brother to disappear in a forest and “get lost”, to which his body was never found, her parents were horrified to do so much as touch their own daughter. When she was with Luke she repeatedly mind controlled him, and she ended up doing the same to Andre. Anyone and everyone she gets close to will inevitably fear that the ungloved intimacy they share with her is inauthentic, which creates a cruel cycle of her feeling the need to compel the people around her to forget all of the horrible things she’s done.

This is the exact play that Dean Shetty makes on her. Understanding and even aiding to curate Cate fears of her powers and whether the only reason people would ever love her is because she’s making them do so, Shetty is one of the few characters to consistently touch Cate. This shifts the dynamic between the two of them, and while it initially seemed to be done out of kindness, you very quickly understand that Shetty’s touch was equally manipulative as Cate’s.

Cate’s seemingly a pathological liar and manipulator, appearing unable to discern her own lies from Vought’s narrative. She’s both a pawn and a player, but I believe this next season will prove her to come out as a hero and unlikely ally to Marie and the true Guardians of Godolkin.

[writeyouin]

Greetings, can I request some V x very easily flustered (or just very shy) and very small (I mean in height) reader?. I just like the scenario were V will be all the time complementing the reader, and they will be very flustered (To the point that they can be as red as a tomato, ur just have fun reactions, like panicking or covering their faces with their hands). I think V will enjoy (or just find it cute) the reader's reaction. (Thanks for Bless us with such beautiful content) Thank you! 💞

V X Reader – Sincerity

A/N – As always, Happy Bonfire Night everyone, and may this small fic fill in the parched desert that is the V for Vendetta fandom.

Warnings – None.

Raring – T

You stood among the suits of armour, an underdressed member of their guard as you leaned against the wall and caught your breath, clutching your hands tightly against your chest. You knew you were probably acting silly, having hurriedly left V after he had paid you several compliments, but you simply couldn’t handle that kind of attention.

When you had been in the heart of London, working every day and doing everything you could to remain invisible, you had always hated it when anyone saw through you. There were men who enjoyed abusing their power over someone as small as you. They did things that made you shudder, like backing you into small spaces, forcing you to pay them attention as they proceeded to cat-call you, or try and take you to a secondary location. Granted, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened often enough to frighten you. Worst of all, when such things happened, you couldn’t rely on anyone else to help you, as everyone else just wanted to be invisible as well.

Don’t get noticed and you won’t disappear. If you were invisible, there would be no black bag to take you away to a place none ever returned from. This was the price of safety in the Chancellor’s London, and it worked… until it didn’t.

Or rather, you had bought into the lie that it worked in the people’s favour, until you met V and he showed you that the system had never worked. It was a broken, cruel thing, and anybody who had fought against it had been murdered or made an example of.

There was no getting around it.

People of colour shouldn’t be despised. The only ones allowed to remain alive were test subjects or the rare pass holders, who had been given exceptions for reasons as of yet unknown to even them, though V speculated they were only there as a future scapegoat if the Chancellor ever needed a new terrorist threat. There were multiple sexualities, and they shouldn’t have to be hidden for fear of execution. Other religions could have made the country stronger, with multiple opinions that could make it more accepting instead of being persecuted, their followers tortured and murdered.

After becoming something of a pupil to V, you learned all this and more. At first, you felt his rage seethe through every sentence he said, his words choking you, challenging you, forcing you to fight through the hazy smog of lies you had been fed every day in your old life. Yet, given time, as the two of you got to know one another, V’s sharp tone dulled a little, he calmed, and he was gentler with you. Granted, his venomous verbosity still broke through when he spoke about the things that infuriated him, but he seemed to accept that you were with him entirely, and so he made sure you knew that his hatred wasn’t directed your way.

With that change in your dynamic, he became suave, charming, and genteel. V had always been well-spoken, but he seemed to pay you more attention, and although you had never enjoyed any attention from anyone in the past, it seemed now that you didn’t know how to feel about it.

Other men’s attention had been dangerous, and terrifying as they chased their pleasure by ensuring that they were in charge, feeding off your fear and weakness. V, however, looked for your strengths, and the things that made you, you.

If you were reading, he would praise you for opening your mind, especially when you read his collection of contraband books that taught you such concepts as Marxism, the abolition of governments, and other countries around the world which your pitiful island had cut itself off from.

When you took time to help V by maintaining his weaponry, cleaning it, or removing any damaged daggers from his arsenal, he took the time to thank you, bowing with a flourish of his cape so you would feel as appreciated as you had made him feel.

If you were idling in the hallways, admiring some art pieces, or questioning others, he would appear quietly behind you, his velvet tread never giving away his position until he wished to make himself known. Then, he would challenge you to reveal your thoughts and praise you for your appreciation of that which had been forbidden, and your bravery for speaking your truth.

He said that, ‘When a person has only their opinions with no fact laid before them, their opinion becomes truth which, if said aloud, is the real bravery of the mind.’

That, like everything else he said left you breathless. It wasn’t so much the fact that he was complimenting you, but rather that his words held no trace of a lie. When he bowed before you, he was humble, when he praised you, he was kind. His words, unlike the lies of those above, were sincere, and frankly, that sincerity frightened you a little. You hadn’t been trained to react to sincerity since there was so little of it left in the world.

How ironic it was that the people above, used lies to mask themselves, but V used his mask to help him speak the truth.

“(Y/N), are you quite alright?” V’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“I-” You froze, uncertain of what to say. It was clear that after leaving so brusquely, V had come to check on you.

He raised a gloved hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing over it. You flushed red at the unexpected action. You shouldn’t have been surprised; V was always much more forward than you.

“I-” You tried again. “I think I just needed a minute,” You finally managed, your eyes downcast.

“How very wonderful of you, taking the time to compose yourself in such a manner, though I must admit,” V closed in on you, towering over you and making you feel so very small as you craned your neck to look up into the black eyes that hid those beneath. You never wondered what was beneath the mask, for those black eyes, pale face, and rosy cheeks, though worn for the theatrics of his chosen role, were indeed V.

“Admit what?” You asked at his pause, craving his answer, yet terrified all the same. How terrible it was to wish for intimacy but feel too shy to receive it simultaneously.

“You are most breathtaking when you blush so, like the red of a rose, blooming in full to shame the other flowers in the garden.”

You felt your cheeks burn further and moved to look away, but V gently held your chin up between his index finger and thumb.

“Yes, there it is. My vivacious blushing rose. A sight to behold.”

You held your breath. You had no idea what had brought on such attention from V, only that you were sure it wasn’t good. He was acting differently as if it might be the last time that you would see him, and that was why he was making such bold announcements.

You knew he had no plans to die since he hadn’t gotten to his targets, and wouldn’t for some years to come since he still had much to learn about the security systems of the locations he planned to attack, but you were now certain that he had at least one or two dangerous activities planned. It was likely he was planning to steal some valuable equipment, or something better guarded than his usual trips to the contraband vaults that the Chancellor kept hidden from the public.

All the same, you knew that if you voiced your concerns or asked V what he was planning, he would likely close off and try to keep you out of it, in the safety of the Shadow Gallery where you now belonged, one of his many treasures.

“V, may I ask something of you?” You said, instead of voicing your true thoughts.

“Always,” V replied sincerely.

“Please will you play something for me?”

“Music?” V sounded amused by the unexpected request. “Of course. It would be my greatest pleasure to have your audience.”

He stepped back and offered his arm, “Shall we?”

You grasped his arm, allowing him to escort you to the music hall where his piano awaited him. If he had chosen to play only for himself, you knew he would have sung his favourite tune, The Violent Cabaret; it was a song of his own composition and it always riled him up, ready for a reckless adventure.

However, since he was going to play for you, you knew that he would pick something thoughtful and mellisonant. Perhaps, in taking a minute to think of what you would like to hear, he would be forced to remember that he had you to come back to, and he wouldn’t take so many unnecessary risks. You hoped that was true. It had to be true. V would always come back. He had to since fate was cruel and Cupid a joker.

If he didn’t return you would die, since you were unfortunately falling in love with him. It was like Romeo and Juliet, if Juliet had known from the start that Romeo planned on dying, and was still doomed to love him.

Nothing good would come of this, and you had his Doomsday burned into your mind. One year, in the near future, it would be the fifth of November, and you would be alone, broken by V’s death.

[truckermelissa]

Me v. Climate Change

There's an assumption I think a lot of right-wingers make, it's that those who acknowlege the science of anthropogenic climate change do so because of some brain-washing machine somewhere. The reality is, I acknowledge it because I've see it with my own eyes. I'm from Colorado, lived in this beautiful state almost all of my life. I've seen it change a lot over the years. We have a beetle that's indigenous to Colorado, cleverly named the Mountain Pine Beetle, and what it does, is it buries itself into the bark of a Pine Tree, and saps nutrients from it.

Top view of a mountain pine beetle. Now these beetles are part of the ecosystem, and if properly regulated by natural processes aren't a problem. Indeed they feed tons of native birds and other predators. If your paying attention, keep in mind I said "properly regulated". To finish that story, I have to tell another story. If you've never been to Colorado, it is a state cut roughly in half. To the east is rolling hills that lead down to the great plains, to the west is rugged, mountainous, and beautiful terrain. Among these mountains is extensive areas of forests.

Colorado mountain lake, near Dotsero, Colorado's only active volcano. Indeed, Colorado is covered in these lush temperate forests, idyllic and ancient. However, that is all rapidly changing. These forests are dying, millions of acres at a time, to pine beetles.

A mountain side forest, now dead to mountain pine beetles. Normally, these pine beetles are regulated by frigid winters that keep them dormant for more than half the year. Thanks to climate change making Colorado warmer, and dryer, these beetles are active year round.

+3°F temperature shift in Colorado from 1895-2021 As a consequence of being active year-round, entire forests are being destroyed. During the winter months, many of the primary predators migrate, namely birds, so these beetles have free reign on these trees throughout the winter months. Dead trees, plus warmer temperatures, equals more frequent and intense forest fires, destroying even more forest. This effect then rampages among indigenous fauna in the sense of habitat loss.

Snowfall in inches by year. These numbers might seem small, but these numbers make the difference between a Colorado River that used to reach all the way to the Pacific Ocean, to now ending in a pond somewhere in Arizona.

Colorado River ending in a small pond, near Yuma Arizona. The naked fact is millions of people rely on this water, not to mention livestock, and farmers. Arizona today is one of the fastest growing states, and I'm telling you right now, that is not a permanent situation. Before long, not a single drop of water will be left for Arizona to tap into from the Colorado River, as Colorado dries out due to climate change. I don't give a single damn what Big Oil or right-wing bullshit artists say, I have seen the effects of climate change in my own state, my home, and I'll believe my own eyes long before I believe their lies. No amount of bullshit from Big Oil, Republicans, and their right-wing stooges will change this simple fact: Colorado's climate is changing, it is getting warmer, dryer, and it's beauty is being consumed all in the interest of mindless profits.

This is particularly infuriating as Big Oil asks the government for money to build seawalls to protect their refineries from rising sea levels.

Climate Change will be Capitalism's great famine, and it'll be the greatest famine of them all, and it will be intentional.

[messoremxvi]

Now this, I completely and utterly agree with. Arnie has been through complete hell growing up. He was lied to, abused, neglected, and utterly belittled his entire life. No wonder his walls are so incredibly high. It's so painful to think that he's never truly had anyone to rely on. To feel safe and loved with. He truly deserves the world, and yet he's never seen so much as a fragment of it.

My attachment to Rimmer truly goes way beyond most, if not all others that I like. I know what it's like to be neglected by your parents (mine being only one for the most part), to never actually feel worthy of anything or anyone. So much so that you destroy any ounce of happiness you were close to having simply because of your own overthinking and severe self-loathing that makes you feel like you're not even good enough for someone else. It's sad to think that someone could have been so hurt in life that they feel they aren't worthy of love or being loved. And in Arnies case, it's just heartbreaking because he does deserve it.

It seems that throughout the entire show, Arnold feels he doesn't deserve any sort of companionship simply because he's a damaged soul. Deep down, he's this soft, incredibly sweet and vulnerable guy who hides every ounce of his feelings behind an arrogant, snarky persona that makes him seen almost unbearable and/or unapproachable. And it's just upsetting that he can't seem to understand that it's okay to be himself and show his emotional side to others. We all have them, and sometimes they make us better people for showing them.

I mean, personally, I think emotional guys are attractive as hell. The idea that they aren't afraid to show their true feelings - even if its just to you - makes my entire soul melt to the floor.

I get hiding them is better. I hide pretty much all my romantic tendencies and well...other things behind a loud, energetic, and probably somewhat annoying nugget, when in reality I wear my heart completely on my sleeve and when I have feelings for someone (which n e v e r, if pretty much once in 6 years, happens) I turn into this completely shy, awkward moron who's all known forms of social skills turns into complete mush and would honestly do anything if I knew they weren't okay and to see them happy... Even if that means sacrificing my own happiness for it 😅.

But like Rimmer with his own, I am absolutely horrified to show these parts of me... I mean, in 21 years, either my exs or guys I've developed feelings for (which has been very few....however, if we were talking about fictional ones, then there's 100s 🤣) they have either cheated on me, ignored and/or constantly left me on read, anddd, in one instance, attacked me soooo.....part of me has truly almost given up on the concept....and the fact I'm only 21 and saying that is quite sad.

But alas, though I now sound slightly sad, I'm absolutely fine. I mean, I'm watching the episode with the strangley, more attractive drunk Arnie. Who wouldn't be fine 😂. I'm contempt with it all. Contempt and slightly stuck with my own current romantic feelings, but that's luckily something I can keep myself distracted from thinking about.....which ultimately leads to me forever tumbling down the hill that is this beautiful hologramatic sweetheart and smeghead

Sorry, I'm rambling

Imma go read now 🤣

The thing about Rimmer…

He really isn’t a bad person, sure he does act like a dickhead at times but to me it seems more like a coping mechanism than who he truly is. This is a man that’s been treated like garbage by anyone and everyone that’s crossed his path, including his own parents (Well his Mother and Stepfather …we don’t know if Dungo was even aware that Rimmer was his son) who brought him into existence.

It’s clear Rimmer never had support and help growing up and has always had to fend for himself which would result in high walls he’s built to protect himself and not let anyone in. He wants to let people in, he wants to be cared for and loved but he doesn’t know how to seen as everyone he has ever let in betrayed his trust in the end. It doesn’t help that a lot of his thought processes are twisted and messed up given that a lot of the things he follows come from his Stepfather, who only seemed interested in living out his own dreams through the boys. Rimmer never had anyone growing up to tell him that his view on women isn’t great or that being gay isn’t a crime. He never had anyone to call him out and put him in his place (until Lister and eventually Kryten came along).

The man has carried around years of burdens and blame that for the most part aren’t at his fault. Rimmer has always been the one that’s in the wrong, that’s been made to not feel good enough. He’s carried the blame and burden of the radiation leak for over 3 million years when he should have never been ordered to fix the drive plate in the first place. Hollister was quick to blame Rimmer when he shouldn’t have given the order in the first place knowing full well it was out of Rimmer’s area.

I’m very much in agreement that Rimmer could well be autistic, given that he shows a lot of the same aspects that I do. He often takes things literally like in Gunmen of the Apocalypse when Bear Strangler McGee says ‘That pays for the hat but what about in the insult?’ Rimmer takes it literally and starts insulting him until Lister steps in. I’ve always said the filter between his brain and his mouth is faulty. He doesn’t read social cues very well as seen in the beginning of Meltdown when he’s telling his risk story and is completely unaware of Lister and Cats disinterest …even after Lister telling him so. He has hyperfixations on war, telegraph poles and vintage wires, he struggles socially and with empathy. It was also mentioned in TPL when Rimmer is shifting through light modes and mentions organizing his books on OCD that he has the condition which often goes hand in hand with Autism.

Rimmer finds it easier to keep himself to himself, keep his walls high and push everyone away because it’s easier to deal with than the hurt and pain of used and betrayed. I think the reason I’m so attached to him is because I see so much of myself in him. I’ve been through similar to what Rimmer has and being constantly made to feel useless and being treated badly all the time will make you bitter and cynical and it will warp how you view everyone around you. Having OCD and autism myself I completely and totally understand Rimmer’s way of thinking and how he behaves.

Rimmer isn’t a bad person, he’s complicated and messed up but deep down there’s just a man that wants to love and be loved, he can do anything but he just needs a little extra help and support. I for one would happily listen to his risk stories, let him talk me through his telegraph pole photos or vintage wires, I’d support him in everything he does and I would always remind him that he is loved 😊

And you know what I love about Rimmer the most …despite everything he’s been through he has never once given up!

[themovieblogonline]

Haunted Mansion Review: A Ghostly Misstep That Fails to Fully Unravel Its Potential

In a world where haunted houses have been a staple of horror cinema for decades, Justin Simien's take on the classic tale in Haunted Mansion attempts to bring a fresh perspective to the genre. Unfortunately, while it displays glimmers of creativity and solid performances, the film ultimately falls short of fully capitalizing on its potential. Haunted Mansion struggles to strike the right balance between horror, comedy, and storytelling, leaving audiences feeling somewhat underwhelmed and longing for more. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AjLKTz81bj8 The Good: From the very start, Haunted Mansion draws you into its world with its eerie atmosphere and visually arresting scenes. The set designs are hauntingly beautiful, capturing the essence of a decaying mansion filled with ghosts and secrets. The use of dim lighting and shadows adds to the suspense, making every creak and rustle of fabric feel like a spectral presence lurking in the background. Simien's keen eye for detail shines through in these aspects, and he successfully delivers an authentically spooky ambiance. The cast of Haunted Mansion is undoubtedly one of its strong points. The talented ensemble is headlined by a charismatic lead performance from LaKeith Stanfield, bringing a much-needed gravitas to the film. The supporting cast also adds depth to the story with their respective portrayals of quirky and haunted characters. It was genuinely kind of amazing to see Danny DeVito in this movie, along with the wildly talented Jamie Lee Curtis and Winona Ryder. However, the film's Achilles heel lies in its uneven character development. While some characters receive the attention they deserve, others seem underwritten and one-dimensional, leaving audiences disengaged and unconvinced of their significance to the plot. The lack of proper character arcs and exploration of their backstories hinders the audience's emotional investment in the unfolding events, making it challenging to feel genuinely attached to the fate of the characters. The Bad: One of the most perplexing aspects of Haunted Mansion is its uncertain identity. The film struggles to find a cohesive balance between horror and comedy, resulting in a tonal inconsistency that is jarring at times. While there are moments of genuine terror that send shivers down your spine, they are often quickly undercut by forced comedic relief that undermines the suspense built up until that point. Obviously this movie was never going to lean into full-on horror, but it still struggles with an identity problem that's hard to shake off. At times, the humor feels out of place and cringe-worthy, relying on tired tropes and slapstick antics that fall flat. Had the film embraced its darker elements and stuck to a more serious tone throughout, it could have potentially created a more haunting and memorable experience. The heart of any good haunted house story lies in the unraveling of its mysteries. Haunted Mansion sets up some intriguing plotlines, promising to delve into the history of the ghosts and the secrets that tie them to the mansion. Regrettably, the film fails to deliver on these promises, leaving significant plot holes and unanswered questions. It feels like the screenplay struggles to tie up loose ends, leaving audiences unsatisfied and wanting more closure. The pacing of the film also plays a part in its overall disappointment. At times, the narrative drags, making the 90-minute runtime feel much longer. Conversely, some plot points are rushed, robbing the film of its potential for genuine scares and character development. A more balanced and thoughtfully constructed storyline could have allowed the movie to unfold more naturally and have a more profound impact on its audience. Overall: Haunted Mansion, directed by Justin Simien, attempts to breathe new life into the haunted house genre, but ultimately fails to live up to its potential. Despite stunning visuals, a talented cast, and an eerie atmosphere, the film stumbles due to uneven character development, a lack of clear identity, unresolved mysteries, and pacing issues. While it may hold some appeal for fans of haunted house stories and spooky settings, it ultimately falls short of being a standout film in the genre. Haunted Mansion becomes a forgettable ghostly misstep that lacks the staying power to leave a lasting impression. Read the full article

[lyingbeauty]

(♥) | @addictiveking​

     “Not ruining my dress, for once, is a thing to be thankful for.”

[that-astrology-ho]

Nitpicking at Astrology with a Virgo #1

*✧ Pisces don’t like to take other people’s advice mainly because they’re stuck in their delulu Neptunian land. So naturally, they’ll only listen to your advice/wisdom/opinion only if it’s feeding into their nonlogical mindset.

*✧ Even though Virgo’s and Gemini’s are squared, they get along super well since they both rule over mercury. They’re very much the iconic duo when it comes to thinking and communicating.

*✧ All of GenZ has a Sagittarius Pluto. So anyone born from November 10, 1995- January 25, 2008, and June 14, 2008-November 26, 2008 is astrologically Gen-Z.

*✧ Speaking of Pluto, our greatest generational planet, the new dawning of the age of Aquarius is March 23, 2023. Mark it down.

*✧ Earth Mercury natives (Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn) have the most beautiful voices. Capricorn’s have a more breathy tone, Taurus is more raspy, and Virgo is just grounding.

*✧ Speaking of voices, famous singers often have Mercury conjunct a personal planet which makes their voices stand out. I’ve realized it’s more amplified when it’s in Earth signs as well. For example: Amy Winehouse, V and Jungkook from BTS, Elvis Presley, Freddie Mercury, Joan Jett, Lizzo, etc.

*✧ Cancer’s sometimes have a darker aesthetic/aura than Scorpio. Unless it’s paired with libra or Taurus, they can have a darker aesthetic, but more pleasing and approachable than Scorpio.

*✧ Scorpio’s very rarely lay their cards down before anybody else does, so if they open up about something before you do, you mean a lot to them. Also they aren’t their necessarily the ones to want to know everything about you right off the bat. They want to have a balanced kind of friendship/relationship with the person they’re with, so if they feel they aren’t getting as much from you as they gave to you, THEN they will try to get to know everything about you just so they have dirt on you when shit goes down.

*✧ Pisces and Libra tend to look at the best in people. So when someone’s getting a bad rep or being misunderstood, they’ll be the most loyal and most likely the first to stand up for you.

*✧ Aries are actually a lot more quiet and standoffish in person. It’s when you become apart of their life that they become a complete freak show.

*✧ Same with Gemini. They’re very loud and funny and the best to hang out with, but at first they’re really quiet and polite and reserved, which really is not the case once you get to know them

*✧ Sagittarius in personal planets (especially moon and mars) really suck at closure. Like they’re deadass the ones to ghost you after you start to expect the bare minimum to them💀💀

*✧ The house that your Saturn lies in can help show how karma takes a hold on people that betrayed you in some way.

*✧ Having Jupiter in your tenth can show a lot of wealth or financial gain throughout your life. Depending on what sign your house is in, that can show where your money would come from (ex. Leo in tenth natives can be great entertainers and can work in the film industry)

*✧ Having a personal planet in retrograde isn’t bad. It helps emphasize that you need to relearn how to operate under that planet. For example, if you have your moon in retrograde, you tend to look back on your emotions/emotional periods in your life before you grow as an individual. Having a planet in retrograde can also make you great at helping other people process their emotions/thoughts/karma whatever.

*✧ scorpio in the 12th can be a haunting placement to have. These individuals worst fear is their own subconscious and thoughts. They may be prone to have a fear of mirrors/past lives/and the idea of doppelgängers. People with this placement have a tendency to either keep everything bottled up or overly express themselves in hopes that people will accept them, when honestly either outcome leads to people perceiving them as sketchy and secretive.

*✧ Leo and Aquarius are opposite signs that I find most intriguing. Aquarius finds it annoying when people follow/copy them or the status quo, while Leo admires having multiple followers and even attempts to gain more recognition and appreciation. They’re both the most showy, outstanding, and individualized signs, but they both have a problem when it comes to fame and recognition. With Aquarius they struggle with the social environment and Leo struggles with their personal environment.

*✧Venus signs get the rep that you’re going to marry/date the sign your venus is in, when in actuality you’ll be better off with someone that fits your Mars sign. Your Mars deals with your sexuality, energy, and self expression, so whatever you put out in the world you get back.

*✧ I’ve also noticed that people with their venus/Mars conjunct usually have the most idealistic relationships because their way of expressing their love and themselves fits well with their partner. People with venus/Mars opposition can have a harder time deciphering what they envision their partner to be and who their part we really is. It’s hard for them to pick apart if they really like their partner for who they are or the idea of what they could be/expect them to be.

*✧ Cancer Mars/Venus natives are one of the kinkiest placements to have in astrology when it comes to sex lmao

*✧ Having venus/libra in your 11th house can make you have trouble understanding romantic feelings/gestures with platonic feelings/gestures. These people could strive for a relationship that relies on being close friends, or even have a friends-lovers situation. *This could be heightened with Aries venus in 11th house ruled by libra

*✧ Capricorn moon natives are some of the most ethereal and caregiving people. Capricorn is associated with the father, rules, orders, finances, and work. When someone’s moon is in Capricorn it can show someone who’s both very protective of their feelings, but even more protective of their loved one’s. I’ve noticed they feel so deeply when they witness someone they love having a hard time (especially with emotional/mental battles) because it’s not something they can easily fix or advise on. Capricorn moons feel the urge to protect and secure everyone they love to a greater extent than cap suns and risings all because they emotionally feel like that’s what they’re called to do. I love you Cap moons🤍🤍

*✧ Speaking of protecting, the difference between scorpio and Taurus is Taurus is more so possessive of everyone and everything in their life while scorpio is more protecting. Taurus loves to spoil themselves and others and tend to become possessive because of all the time, energy, and money they devote to close ones. Scorpio on the other hand value closeness on a spiritual level and need constant reassurance that they’re understood when it comes to their feelings and thoughts. Because of that worry and fear they become protective of the few people that are able to understand them the way they do.

*✧ I believe scorpio has a thing where they know how much they hurt and feel that if someone can empathize with them, it’s both reassuring and distressing. They like it because they’re able to feel like they belong, but they also hate it because they never want anyone to hurt the same way they do. This can apply more for Scorpio moon natives or moon in the 8th house.

*✧ Having capricorn in Neptune gets a rep of being boring and too narrow visioned. This is true but it also shows a generation of people who know what they’re capable of achieving without focusing too much on what COULD be. It can have be more “boring” if someone had Saturn in the 12th house that was ruled by another earth sign, but this mainly just shows a generation of people that are capable of getting stuff done that needs to get done and being influencers for the next generation to look up to.

[zepskies]

Yess so excited to read your thoughts on this one, lovely!! 💕

Starting off strong with Ben’s profanity, I see 💪

I saw no other way to go about this opening. 😂

Ben really does act his age, and it never fails to amuse me 😂

Girl SAME. 😂 He's an old ass man and he lives his truth.

I’m a little ashamed to admit that I would traditionally skip straight to pettiness at this point… Pookie is legit sooo much stronger then me if she’s only getting a smidge bit annoyed.

Lolll while I understand, I hope I would act more like the reader in these situations. Though she's basically a saint for how much she puts up with when it comes to Ben. She's far too used to his moods at this point and knows how to mentally and verbally tai chi his energy. 😂

Oh hell nah, Benny babe, I know you come from the generation of emotionally repressed assholes who speak in grunts, but traditionally people give actual REASONS for cancelled plans. But idk maybe that’s just me 🤷‍♀️

"Emotionally repressed asshole" is exactly it with him lmfao.

“Now, if he really wanted to impress you, he'd wash that damn dish.” — I suppose it really is just baby steps with this one 😂

It really is. 😂 Eventually he'll get to the level of growth in this SB imagine (AKA: Repaying Ben for a job well done), but again, baby steps.

AHAHAHAH YESSS!! She’s speaking my language of ✨spite✨

LOL I think it's understandable at this point with his behavior. 🤣

Did he… did he forget who exactly his girl is? Does he really think she’s just gonna roll over because he said so? BITCH PLEASE!

Oh he didn't forget. He's just letting his fears interrupt his character growth. 🙄 Don't worry, he's gonna learn. (Again.)

“Admitting to that was like admitting that his uniform was a lie; that he had no fear. That he was invulnerable. That he was a god in human form.” — I love the way you’ve phrased this. It’s so beautiful and poetic, and so very fitting for Ben as a character 🫶

Thank you, my love! That part in particular was special for me when I was writing. I feel like it distills all the "lies" surrounding Ben and his Soldier Boy persona -- the lies he bought into himself, and now has to confront again. She strips him of all those lies in BMD, just by loving him and challenging him to be better.

“But you had become the last human part of him. To lose that would be to lose everything again, worse than 1984.” — And this part too, it really does encapsulate how far he’s come since they first met and how deeply he’s come to rely on her. She’s his life and the person he wants a future with, so the steaks are higher than they ever were in 1984.

Thank you so much for picking up what I was putting down, essentially! That's precisely what I was getting at with that line.

““I thought you didn’t mind a few wrinkles,” you teased.” — THIS MADE ME WHEEZE OH MY GOODNESS I LOVE HER 🤣 that’s gotta be such a comforting aspect of Ben though, knowing that he won’t leave her for someone younger when she gets older.

Lmfao she will always take the opportunity to tease him for that. 🤣 But also because this is before the events of Strong as Blood (they don't yet know that she has her "supe STD" lmfao), you're so right in that this would actually be a kind of solace for her, no matter how unconventional lol.

““I like the idea of a private room,” you said.” — You naughty naughty… 😏

Listen, lmao. Who doesn't want a private room with that man? But also, she knows how to finesse her man, and this is one of the ways to his heart. 😂

This is a nice conclusion to the first part, I really love seeing the way that Ben coped with witnessing MC’s mortality (albeit it was a dream). And I love how one of his automatic remedies for the nightmare, other then trying to essentially ground her, was to turn back to the Compound V conversation. The nightmare really would’ve called to mind so many worries that he would’ve already had in the back of his head.

Thank you again!! 🥰🥰 I'm so glad you enjoyed this sequel to the first part. And you picked up on literally all the subtext I had in my head (and hoped others would notice) as I was writing this part.

My heart ached at the doubts that we’re going through his mind, but I always love it when you highlight the emotional stakes in their relationship.

As assholish as Ben is in this part, we all know it's coming from a place of fear and protectiveness, which makes him more sympathetic lol. It comes back to the challenges of a supe/non-supe relationship with one of the most infamous supes alive. 😅

As always, thank you so much for all your love and feedback on this pair of imagines!! They were really fun to write, even in the challenging nature of the prompts. And I think it shades in a little bit more of the BMD world and their relationship in a way I wasn't expecting to dive into. 💞💞

Talk to Me

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: Ben had a vivid nightmare last night. You know how he is about his “man feelings.” But you try to get him to open up anyway, before you both lose your tempers.

AN: This was requested by my lovely friend @deans-spinster-witch. It's set in the Break Me Down-verse and is a sequel to the SB imagine below:

See this imagine for context: Ben loses you.

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Imagine: You confront Ben about his fears.

“What the fuck is wrong with this cocksucking coffee maker?” Ben snarked.

He bumped the top of it with his hand, so hard you thought he was going to break it.

Your brows furrowed as you shot him a look. It was too early for all that.

“Nothing?” you said. “Worked just fine for me.”

He sported an even grumpier face as the coffee finally poured into his mug.

Something’s wrong, you thought.

Ben was usually quiet in the morning. Relaxed and slow until he’d had his coffee and started his routine, with his newspaper at his favorite lounge chair, then breakfast in the kitchen with you.

You were making pancakes on a griddle, but you were also watching your boyfriend. He wasn’t just quiet. He was downright grouchy and taciturn.

What crawled up his ass? you thought. Though you had your suspicions...

“Breakfast is done,” you called to him.

He eventually joined you, sitting down at the breakfast bar. You served him a mildly enormous stack, and just two pancakes for yourself. In most respects, Ben was still a bottomless pit.

However, after eating the first couple of pancakes in silence, he pushed away from his plate and leaned back in his seat. You held your coffee mug between both hands and eyed him.

“You okay, baby?” you asked, repeating the very words you’d asked him last night.

He glanced at you through surly brows. “Yeah. You can stop asking me that.”

Right, you thought. He’d been twitching in his sleep, muttering, making sounds that had worried you enough to wake him with a gentle hand on his dewy arm. His response had worried you too—that haze of disoriented shock, followed by relief when he recognized your face.

You’d comforted him the best you could after his nightmare, but he hadn’t wanted to talk about it. You knew he wouldn’t now, either. That didn’t stop you from trying.

You set down your mug and soothed a hand up his arm, until your fingers disappeared under his shirt sleeve.

“What’s got you all sunshine and rainbows then, Mr. Grouch?” you lightly teased. “I even made you pancakes. Still waiting on my thank you.”

Ben didn’t want to answer, though he briefly glanced at you. He slurped at his coffee.

You sighed. A tick of annoyance at your brow.

“Okay," you said. "Well, since we had breakfast here, I figured we could go out for lunch later when we get to the city. There’s this amazing deli I could take you to—”

“We’re not going,” Ben said.

You blinked in surprise. Your hand fell away from his shoulder. “What?”

“I’ve got things to do,” he said. And without looking at you, he grabbed his half-full plate and got up to bring it over by the sink. He speared a few pancakes back onto the plate you’d served them up in before dumping his plate into the sink.

At least he was learning something about living with you. Now, if he really wanted to impress you, he'd wash that damn dish.

But for now, you wanted answers more than you wanted clean plates. You slowly got up out of your chair and went to him. You tried your best not to be accusatory when you asked your next questions.

“What do you mean? What do you have to do?”

He didn’t seem to want to answer you. Or maybe, he didn’t have a good answer, because he was fucking lying.

You laid a hand on his arm. “Ben. I need you to talk to me right now, because this is our first day off together in weeks. You know this was supposed to be our day. So you’d better have a damn good reason.”

He frowned angrily down at you. “We’re not going because I fucking said so. That’s all you need to know.”

You glared back at him, standing your ground.

You raised a brow. “That’s not good enough with me, and you know it. But if that’s how you’re going to be about it, I’ll call Annie and make it a girls’ day.”

You turned on your heel to walk away, but an iron hand grabbed your wrist. Holding back a wince, you frowned at Ben over your shoulder. His face was tight with irritation.

“You’re not going any-damn-where,” he snapped.

“You better let me go, right now,” your temper snapped right back.

This man was protective, but he had never been this bad. Not even after you got out of the hospital after Vought Tower collapsed. Granted, you’d been fully healed. He’d never outright tried to forbid you from leaving the house though.  

“What the hell is your problem?” you said.

He didn’t want to let you go, but after a beat, he released you. His frown deepened when you had to rub the ache out of your wrist.

He hadn’t meant to grip you that hard. Part of him relented…but then it firmed back up, when he remembered last night. The images were still filtering through his mind on a loop.

The alley, the blood slipping through his fingers, your pale, cold cheek, and lifeless eyes staring up at him.

“There’s something we need to discuss,” he said gruffly.

You tilted your head at him. Your face was tight and angry now, but you still followed him into the living room. You sat down together on the couch, and with crossed arms, you waited for him to speak.

His elbow rested on his knee while his hand swept over his mouth and beard. Then his gaze slid over to yours.

“You need to take Compound V,” he said.

To say that shocked you was an understatement. Your eyes widened, and your body went rigid.

“Excuse me?” you said lowly.

“There’s no way around it,” he said. Grit was laced in his voice, but you didn’t care.

“I’ve made myself very clear—”

“And you also said we’d revisit this little chat, so here we are,” Ben retorted. “You need to live in fucking reality. I can’t be with you 24/7. I don’t trust those CIA fucks to wipe their own ass, let alone keep an eye on you. Especially when I’m in the field.”

You just managed to lasso in your temper when you finally realized where this was coming from. You inhaled a couple of calming breaths. Your fingers tapped your knees. You sat up straighter before you turned to him more fully.

Your hand reached out to cover his on his thigh.

“Ben,” you started. Soft and even. “What did you dream last night?”

His face tightened further, his lips pressed into a line. It took him a moment, but eventually he answered.

“Nothing. Doesn’t fucking matter.”

“We both know that it does,” you chided.

When he just maintained his stoic façade, you slid closer to him on the couch. You curled a hand around his bicep and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

You looked up at him.

He didn’t want to break.

You just waited until the green of his eyes met yours.

“Hey. It’s just me,” you said softly. “Talk to me.”

His brows knit together, slightly. His jaw clenched and twitched under his skin.

“I lost you,” he said.

Admitting to that was like admitting that his uniform was a lie; that he had no fear. That he was invulnerable. That he was a god in human form.

But you had become the last human part of him. To lose that would be to lose everything again, worse than 1984.

Somehow, you’d become his reason…for most things. He didn’t think you realized it, nor would he allow himself to tell you.

His eyes closed when you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. You let your fingers sift through his hair, brushing it back and away from his forehead.

“Do you know why I want to stay normal?” you asked. "Albeit fragile and breakable."

He didn’t answer, but his eyes silently asked for one.

“Because I want to stay myself,” you said. “Power corrupts, and there’s a big chance I wouldn’t be the woman you loved anymore if I injected that shit into my veins.”

Ben frowned. He hadn’t considered that…but he still felt it was a price worth paying.

You moved off the couch and into his lap. He welcomed you with an arm curling around your waist and another moving up your thigh.

Your arms twined around his neck, and you kissed him properly, nice and slow. He tasted like coffee and maple syrup. His hair was soft between your curling fingers.

You parted from him after a while, just to press another comforting kiss to his temple.

“I know what I’m asking of you, and I’m sorry,” you whispered against his skin. “But we’ll figure something else out.”

“How?” he scoffed, his brows furrowing again. “In a few decades—”

“I thought you didn’t mind a few wrinkles,” you teased.

A smirk flickered across his lips. “You know what the fuck I mean.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But we have time. I promise, we’ll figure this out.”

Ben didn’t totally believe you. There was going to come a time where you were going to have to make a choice: between him and your principles.

It wasn’t fair, but that was the reality. Life wasn’t fucking fair.

Until then, maybe he could make one concession.

“If you want…” he said. You leaned back enough to see his face.

He met your gaze. “We can go to dinner later. In the city.”

A slow smile spread across your face.

“But we’re getting a private room,” he warned, squeezing your hips. “And we’re driving there and back. That’s it.”

Your smile warmed further, and kissed the corner of his mouth. You were sure you could convince him to go a Broadway show afterwards, if you plied him in a few key ways...

“I like the idea of a private room,” you said.

His fingers crept up your pajama pants, drifting down between your thighs. His thumb started to stroke warmth through your panties. It had you smiling, sighing, subtly pressing into his hand.

His smirk deepened.

“You do, don’t you?” he said.

You let out a breathy laugh at the change in him. It didn’t take much to get him worked up. So you hugged him close and spoke into his ear all the things you had planned for him tonight.

Before, and after dinner.

AN: Lol I love writing this lovable asshole. 💚 Especially in the BMD-verse.

I have more Dean imagines coming soon! Including a requested sequel to "You are Dean's one exception," in which Sam "crosses the line"... 🫣

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

@this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

[literateish]

dating emily prentiss

emily prentiss x reader

headcanons about dating emily prentiss using this fluff alphabet prompt list

A = AFFECTION (how affectionate are they? how do they show emotion?)

emily is great at small, frequent gestures of affection rather than large displays of affection. she’s constantly reminding you that you’re beautiful and that she loves you. sometimes you’ll find little notes and gifts from her left around your home.

B = BEST FRIEND (what would they be like as a best friend?)

emily’s the life of the party, she’ll never fail to make you laugh and smile. she’ll always make you feel loved and heard and understood, but won’t hesitate to call you out and tell you the brutal truth.

C = CUDDLES (do they like to cuddle? how do they cuddle?)

emily loves cuddles! she loves being able to hold you and just feel you close to her.

D = DOMESTIC (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

emily never imagined herself settling down. she’d spent her life travelling and the idea of staying in one place with the same people had never appealed to her, but the idea of having something consistent and permanent in her life was a welcome change. growing up, there had been people to cook and clean for her, so she isn’t able to do anything fancy with food, but she does know the basics.

E = ENDING (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

she’d do it gently but firmly. there’ll be no room for misunderstanding, but she’ll still make sure that you’re okay.

F = FIANCÉE (how do they feel about commitment? how quickly would they like to get married?)

she’s always been independent, never wanting to rely on anyone else, so letting someone else into her life is a big leap but she’s willing to do it for the right person.

G = GENTLE (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

with you, emily is extremely gentle. being in the bau means that she has to be strong and aggressive whilst in the field to protect herself and her team mates, so she likes to be able to take a break from that persona and be calm, relaxed and gentle whilst with you.

H = HUGS (do they like hugs? how often do they hug? what are their hugs like?)

emily loved being hugged by you. whenever she’s having a bad day, a hug from you immediately makes her feel better.

I = I LOVE YOU (how fast do they say the L-word?)

it takes a while. loving someone means vulnerability and emily’s not familiar with that. she’s very careful with the l-word, but when she says it, you know she means it and it holds so much importance.

J = JEALOUSY (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they get jealous?)

she’d get jealous if you’re openly flirting with another person, but she trusts you and knows that you would never do anything to betray her.

K = KISSES (what are their kisses like? where do they kiss you + where do they like to be kissed?)

she loves kissing. forehead kisses and kisses on the cheek as a cute, soft form of affection, but also long, deep kisses until you’re both breathless.

L = LITTLE ONES (how are they around children?)

for a while, emily was uncomfortable around kids, but now she’s great with them. she knows how to talk to children and make them feel safe.

M = MORNING (how are mornings spent with them?)

she’s usually in a rush to get to the bay in time, but on the rare off-days, she’ll make breakfast for you whilst you get to stay in bed.

N = NIGHT (how are nights spent with them?)

emily likes to spend her evenings reading. she loves to curl up on the couch and get lost in her book whilst you rest against her legs.

O = OPEN (when would they start revealing things about themselves? all at once or slowly, over time?)

it’s takes a while for emily to open up. it happens in stages, everyday you’ll learn a little bit more about her. she’s not good at being vulnerable, so when she tells you something, you know it’s a sign of her trust and love for you.

P = PATIENCE (how easily angered are they?)

she’s good at staying calm. of course she gets annoyed at little things occasionally, but it’s rare for her to be angry. she’ll only show that anger if someone has dared threaten you and the people she loves.

Q = QUESTION (how much do they remember of you? do they remember every detail, or forget things?)

emily has an incredible memory. she’ll remember everything about you and use that information to make you feel loved - ordering your favourite drink, buying you things in your favourite colour etc.

R = REMEMBER (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

the day you met is her favourite memory. you’ve been on her mind ever since - that day changed her life.

S = SECURITY (how protective are they? do they like being protected?)

emily’s independent. she doesn’t like being in a situation that needs for her to be protected, but she’ll always protect you, no matter what.

T = TRY (how much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

she’ll do anything to make you happy. she won’t do anything too over the top, but would take you out on lots of cute little dates to your favourite places.

U = UGLY (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

biting her nails! whenever she’s anxious or stressed, her nails are the first victims. (this sometimes results in days when your hand is always holding on to hers).

V = VANITY (how concerned are they with their looks?)

emily’s confident with who she is. she has times when she feels insecure about certain parts of her body (she is human), but she’s learned to love herself.

W = WHOLE (would they feel complete without you?)

she would cope. she would learn how to live without you, but she would feel as if a piece of her is missing.

X = XRTA (a random headcanon for them)

emily loves travelling. she wants to be able to visit as many countries as she can in her lifetime to learn as much as possible about the different cultures and languages. (and travelling is even better with you with her).

Y = YUCK (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

being lied to. trusting anyone is hard for emily, betraying that trust and lying to her is unforgivable.

Z = ZZZ (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

emily is not good at keeping to a sleep schedule. she could stay awake all night reading a book. but with you there, she’ll go to sleep when you do because she loves go to sleep with you in her arms.

[romanticchemacademic]

Dear future health professionals and stem professors,

We need a revolution of thought. Only through a renaissance of pure and genuine passion towards medicine and other sciences will we have competent doctors, nurses, other healthcare workers, and teachers. We live in a world where people pursue noble professions for the sake of social and economic advancement. However, we lack individuals who love the process of learning and their career.

I recollect quite a marvelous excerpt written by one of the world’s greatest scientific minds, Albert Einstein. In his book, The World As I see It he writes:

ACADEMIC CHAIRS ARE MANY, but wise and noble teachers are few; lecture rooms are numerous and large, but the number of young people who genuinely thirst for truth and justice is small. Nature scatters her common wares with a lavish hand, but the choice sort she produces but seldom.

We all know that, so why complain? Was it not ever thus and will it not ever thus remain? Certainly, and one must take what nature gives as one finds it. But there is also such a thing as a spirit of the times, an attitude of mind characteristic of a particular generation, which is passed on from individual to individual and gives a society its particular tone. Each of us has to do his little bit towards transforming this spirit of the times.

Compare the spirit which animated the youth in our universities a hundred years ago with that prevailing today. They had faith in the amelioration of human society, respect for every honest opinion, the tolerance for which our classics had lived and fought. 

  I believe that one of the faults lies within education institutions. Educators rely on testing, textbooks, and detached memorized lectures. Lectures lack passion and another essential factor: the real practice. The theory is important but the practice is necessary to understand the theory. But without passion, nobody will learn to love the material being taught. Ibn Sina is known for being one of the greatest physicians and teachers of Islamic medicine. I am not completely sure whether what I am about to mention is true. But I read that when he lectured theory to the medical students at the Madrassa (University) he would show them how it worked. Besides medical history and theory. He also taught physics, astronomy, philosophy, and mathematics. However, he is also famed for being an excellent teacher duly because he would take his students to test out the theories and practice what they have been taught. If they were learning medical theory, they were taken to the hospital to observe patients and their cases. If they were learning astronomy, they would all gather in the evening to look up at the heavens to look at the constellations. Lastly, his passion for his vocation was the final touch. Educators without the drive cannot teach. Learning is about understanding oneself, others, and the world. Learning evolves our minds and our spirits by making us get in harmony with the universe. I believe this ties in with Aristotle’s famous saying, “The unexamined life is not worth living”. Though my interpretation may be a wee bit off, I translate it as thus; we can gather all textbook knowledge as possible but if we do not put into practice the knowledge learned, what is the point? I yearn and I pine to experience all that I have learned. I want to see why the theory makes sense in reality. I want to conduct experiments. So much potential is being wasted. Biology is the study of life. However, when I took the course, it was so cold to a point that it did not even feel like I was studying the human body but something alien instead. There is also such a rush to memorize material within a couple of weeks because of exams that the material ceases to be interesting and becomes more of an arduous chore instead. Our sense of time-shifted completely after the industrial revolution. Perhaps this is a reason why we feel the need to rush through everything and not take our time to study profoundly. 

We need another Scientific Revolution, curious minds thirsting for the acquisition of knowledge and unanswered questions. However, I believe that the leading force behind this is a necessity. I would like to mention an example to illustrate what I mean from a novel I read a while ago called, The Physician by Noah Gordon. A boy from Medieval Europe lost his mother from an unknown disease leaving him orphaned. He then grew up with the necessity to learn what the disease was and how to prevent other similar deaths, so that others do not suffer what he has suffered. He then worked with Barbers (people who performed medical procedures in Medieval Europe). But the medical knowledge these professionals had was not enough to answer his question. Thus, he traveled to Persia where there was a quite renowned and exclusive medical school. He did not have the economic means or previous schooling to attend but he impressed the headmaster with his passion and knowledge. Thus, the headmaster admitted him into the Madrassa. The European boy then invested all his time doing research, dissections and treating patients until he finally found out what ailment caused his mother’s death, side sickness (appendicitis). He figured out a way to treat this illness, removal of the appendix. From his initial necessity which was the driving force for him to pursue a medical career, he became a famous physician and felt that all his suffering and odyssey were worthwhile. The sense of necessity leads to the feeling of passion. It was his love for his mother that made him follow such a journey full of obstacles. I am beginning to apply that to my own life. I want to figure out my necessity which will be the driving force to power through university and medical school without ever feeling burnt out. I want to feel fulfilled. I believe this is what all pre-medical students and teachers should think about. What is your necessity? We are going to be dealing with human life, someone’s mother, father, friend, sister, uncle, lover, husband, or child...It is not something to be taken lightly. I know so many doctors lacking empathy because they went into the medical field with just the intention of being acknowledged as “Doctors” and getting rich. But I feel that even the most apathetic healthcare workers can become great empathetic professionals the moment they realize that something was triggered deep inside them, perhaps a loved one having an unknown disease. This would lead the apathetic doctor to do mass amounts of research to try to find a cure. This feeling becomes a necessity. A necessity to not lose the loved one. A necessity to save lives. Thus, finding passion, purpose, and becoming a better person. Though each person is different, we all share a selfish feeling. Most of the time we do not truly care about other peoples’ suffering until it happens to us. Once we are affected by something, we drive all our time and attention to find a solution or a way to deal with a problem. We become consumed and completely obsessed by it. I regard this as passion. I do not think passion subsides, it lingers on inside us. It is a fire that never burns out. I remember my high school teacher writing in my yearbook:

Remember a few things, BE PATIENT. You are eager and you will accomplish so much. But take your time, you are always rushing. Life is a journey, it is not about the destination. Be picky. You love everything with enthusiasm but enthusiasm can burn out. Find a fire inside yourself that burns for a long time.

-V

We cannot rush our personal legend. I believe it comes to us. It is Maktub (it’s written). But we also have to do something. Imagine you are on a stranded island but you have a machete, a fishing rod, coconuts, a cave for shelter, wood for a fire, an ocean full of fish. Everything required for survival is there, but you simply have to cut open the coconut with the machete, go fishing for food, fire to cook, and warmth. The fish isn’t going to swim right into your hands and the fire will not light itself. We must use our resources and do our bit. The Universe has a lot going on, we must help out a bit.

If you ever think about quitting, try to remember what made you start your odyssey in the first place. I do not know what my necessity is yet but that is okay. I believe it will come to me eventually. So for now, I simply love to romanticize academia. I like to imagine the: earthy tones of the universities archways, cobblestone paths, laboratories with clean Erlenmeyer flasks, beakers, pristine white lab coats, bunsen burner flames changing colors as different salts are added, Bromothymol Blue pen stains, elegant calculations inside a worn leather-bound notebook, formulas scrawled over the blackboard, forgotten cold Irish breakfast tea on the desk, academics discussing theories, applause from a successful experiment, gray rainy days spent inside the lab, Whitman, Hemingway, et Sir Arthur Conon Doyle being read during break, intellectual conversations with professors, chemistry reports being written, molecular models built, volumes of ancient words, fire slowly burning in the stone fireplace, trying to understand, looking at the constellations on a clear night in the astronomy tower, reciting poetry, Tchaikovsky playing whilst completing a long lab report on Lê Chatelier’s theory of Equilibrium, curious minds, sleepless evenings in the library, beautiful anatomical illustrations...Just imagining these things motivate and inspire me to continue my path. Though it may seem superficial, it awakens something inside me. I yearn and I pine to become a Chemistry Romantic. 

I want to conclude this letter by saying that pupils and educators keep ideals alive and can change them accordingly as well. We have the power to become excellent professionals or simply exist and do nothing for the human race. But if you plan on becoming a physician or educator, you must find the trigger which brings your passion to life, your necessity. Once you find that, you are guaranteed greatness and fulfillment. However, do not rush. Perfection takes time. A couple of obstacles should not hinder you from persevering. Many will tell you to give up but do not. That is the Universe testing you. Do your best until you master the topic. Once you know better, you are then able to do better. 

Regards,

Confessions from a Chemistry Academic

[17wishbones]

Will fix GIF quality later. I had a better one but, for whatever reason, it wouldn’t update or save the post! //sad face

But here it is! This one is a nice one, I think. And it’s got a tasty lemon at the bottom. As always, thanks for reading! Next chapter will be out in a couple of days. :> - - - - - - - -

                               CHAPTER IV: BLOOD AND BONE

On missions, you both kept it professional. Your first objective was always to save any humans in danger. The second was killing demons on sight. Third was seeking out the 12 Kizuki and Muzan.

Your eyes wouldn’t lead you wrong. With time passing, his aura trailed in a thin line. You slowly followed the trail. You needed your nerves calm and your anxiety dialed down to a 2.

“You got this, _____!” Rengoku cheered behind you. “Just concentrate. I have your front and your back!”

What a pleasure to have him on this journey back to Osaka.

“Nn.” You didn’t quite approve of doing what you were about to. ‘I haven’t done this since Lord Ubuyashiki took me in.’ You returned to that same alleyway from last time and where wandering eyes wouldn’t be on you. ‘This saved me from being killed many times. I survive on instinct thereafter.’ You gently gathered a bit of the aura in your hand and licked at your palm.

Your vision blurred as your brain scrambled to make sense of what it was seeing through this vile taste. You heaved seconds later with beads of sweat dripping down your forehead.

“What did you see?” Rengoku helped you up.

“Doors. Many doors. To… a different place, beyond our reach.”

Rengoku looked at you with concern drawn on his face. “Were you able to see past it?”

You swallowed hard as you tried gaining your senses quickly. “Yes. These hallways never end. They go on and on and…” His aura was honestly the worst. His aura made you sick to your core. “There’s a biwa demon lying deep within, and a corral of Lower Rank Kizuki.” You swallowed again and closed your eyes, as a figure formed in the center. “He must meet with them there. And even to them, he is menacing and dangerous.”

“We should push forward!”

You grabbed for his wrist, shaking your head vigorously. “No!”

“Sunflower?”

“If we were to invade by ourselves, our lives will be cut short. Just like--” doors opened and out came an arm of teething flesh! An upward slash crippled the large arm, splitting its burning flesh in two. “Flame Breathing. Second Form. Rising Scorching Sun.” You jumped out of the way, but this arm went on the offense towards you both. Both of you breathed in.

“Flame Breathing! First Form! Unknowing Fire!”

“Flame Breathing. First Form. Unknowing Fire.”

You and Rengoku blitzed in sync, damaging said arm until it retracted back through the doors. “Just like that.”

Rengoku caught you before your knees buckled. The aura was lingering in you. It wouldn’t be for some time for it to leave you. He wasn’t going to waste time on asking if you were going to be alright or not. He wasn’t about losing you here. “To the streets!” Rengoku dashed with you tossed over his shoulders, coming out where the crowd passed them by, looking at the both of you weirdly. “We have to return as quickly as possible!” Rengoku tried whispering to you as he set you on your feet. “I can carry you if you are unable to walk!”

You shook your head. “It will lessen in pain over time. Let’s head back as you suggested.”

“Right!”

You and Rengoku made the long trip back to the Demon Slayer HQ. You had one hell of a piece of information to tell Ubuyashiki as you didn’t even expect to come across anything this useful. And you won’t forget staring into the depths of moving flesh as it tried devouring you.

Being a Demon Slayer was not for the weak and weak willed. You survived due to momentarily gaining instincts to attack and live, but it was to Rengoku that you both got out alive.

You were certain now, more than ever.

Aoi gave Rengoku a hand by setting up your futon as well as preparing some tea in order to help you recover at the Butterfly Estate. She had never seen his eyes downcast and his brows so close together as he held you in his arms. “Please, take care of my Sunflower,” he spoke at a reasonable volume, “I shall be back in the morning.”

You tugged at his haori to gain his attention. “Warm me as you usually do.”

“With pleasure.” He pressed a warm kiss on your forehead and squeezed your hand with reassurance. “Goodnight, Sunflower.”

He left you with a sirene smile on your face and love in your heart.

The night grew lonely without your presence and it made him feel that he shouldn’t have left you there, but he wanted to be home with Senjuro whenever he returned, but what kind of husband was he going to be if he left his wife by her lonesome? He lied on his futon, conflicted while trying to go to sleep.

“I’ll just go back now!”

“Go back where now?”

The room warmed as your healthy presence surprised him. “Sunflower!” He didn’t waste a breath as he embraced and kissed all over your face. “You’re feeling better?”

“Much better!” You laughed. “I haven’t done that in a long time so it’s due to make me sick, but I didn’t think for that long. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“It’s okay! I didn’t want to leave you alone so I had decided to make my way back to you.”

“But then we wouldn’t have any privacy.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and drew him into a kiss. As each slow and soft kiss progressed to lip sucking and tongue exploration, Rengoku unbuttoned your uniform while you untied his nemaki (sleepwear).

You trailed your fingers up from his Adonis belt to his neck. You lifted his head up and kissed him from his jaw to his ear. Your lips made a pathway over his chest, his abs, and to the tip of his erection.

“Let me service you.” Rengoku’s body flushed red when you began taking him in your mouth.

“That’s good, Sunflower.” His groans and hands in your locs always turned you on, but they paled in comparison when he looked down at you with lust filling those gorgeous eyes of his.

You held steady at his hips, sucking him sloppily, the way he liked it. You wanted him wet and ready when he entered you. You knew the moment he started stroking into your mouth that he was ready.

It took everything in you to not let him pump his worth down your throat, though you’d swallow with glee. You let him free, staring at your hard work before getting his nemaki and spreading it down on the floor. He needn’t ask as you got down on your hands and knees and looked back at him. “I heard this was a good position for…” you blushed. “You know.”

“My Sunflower is so thoughtful!” He leaned over you with his erection rubbing between your thighs and his hands roaming up to your breasts. He rolled his thumbs over your nipples as he sucked and bit on your left earlobe. He then kissed from your shoulder, down the middle of your back, and to your hefty cheeks.

He gently pinched and tugged your nipples which had you moaning lightly and grinding up against him. He grinned with excitement as he erected himself upright and positioned the tip at your entrance. “You have an amazing back. You know that, Sunflower?” He began praising. “Your legs are strong, thick and yet smooth, soft.” His fingers roamed down your sides and thighs. “I love the way your body looks and feels.”

Ever since he saw how others treated you, he found it his life’s mission to compliment you as much as he could, to show that the girl he saw was extraordinary.

Whenever your gaze fell upon him, he could feel your love and admiration for him every time you two were together. Your energy was unrivaled. And whenever you needed that shoulder to cry on or advice, Rengoku couldn’t help but love how much you relied on him to see it through to your success. It was all worth it to get to here, and speaking of. . .

You lowered your upper half and spread your legs open so that he could dive deep into your waterfall. “Show me how you feel about me, Kyōjurō.” If he could praise the way you looked down below, you’d never hear the end of it, but it wasn’t for here or now. Definitely after the wedding, though!

He groaned once he pressed a well-positioned stroke within you, feeling the walls inside form around him as they always did. He had to have you.

Rengoku grabbed unto your hips and thrusted into you like this was going to be the last time. “I love it when you call my name,” your fingers clenched tight as his strokes echoed out into the hallway, “When you moan,” your lips quivered, “When you scream,” a few soft “ahs” escaped your parted lips as he kept a strong and steady pace, “I love it all!’

He made his intentions clear as he hiked up one of his legs and sped it up. “Nnf! Nnf! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Right there, Kyōjurō!”

“Just like that?” He let up for a moment as he drew back, before plunging down to the base, hearing your voice cry out into the night.

You crumbled first, what with your body shivering from the pounding Rengoku put on you. He put passion into everything he did, with one of them being sure he took care of you first, but you wanted that feeling inside you, too. “Please, fill me.”

He did just that, his body shuddering as he filled your opening, a creampie. Rengoku gazed at your blissful expression with a smile. “My beautiful Sunflower.” - - - - - - - - - Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII (Part 1) / (Part 2) / (Part 3)

[itskatastrophe-x]

Far Off Places (CH5)

Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6

Word Count : 2,748

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^

You blinked a few times as your surroundings came back to you and Ranboo was kneeling in front of you, shaking you gently. “Hey, sorry we took so long. We both can kinda talk for… Well hours.” You looked out the window to see the setting sun and you cursed yourself for being asleep for so long. You thought back to your dream and debated on whether or not to tell Ranboo about Dream visiting you. He seemed to catch on to your thoughts though and asked if you were ok. “Yeah, I’m just groggy and in pain from sleeping on stairs.” He apologized again but you waved him off as you stood and stretched. “Where is Foolish?” You looked around for the totem-god but he was nowhere to be seen or heard. “He went back to his summer home for some supplies but said he’d be back before morning. He told us to go home and not to wait around.” You nod and he takes that as his cue to lead you both out of the building.

The air outside was biting and small snowflakes found their way onto your shoulders. You wrapped yourself tighter in your coat and shivered. Off in the distance you could see the eerie glow of lava from the silhouette of the prison. You stared at it as you walked and ended up tripping, only just barely catching yourself, the snow on the ground slightly buffering your fall. Ranboo was quick to help you up and you thanked him, still staring at the prison. He caught onto your stare and cleared his throat. “Did you want to see it?” You look at him but he couldn’t meet your eyes. You said a short ‘yes’ and apologized. “No, it’s ok. You’re new and have never seen it. Of course you’d want to see it. It’s honestly pretty impressive once you forget there’s a murderer and manipulator locked in it.” He heads towards it and you practically have to jog to keep up with his fast pace. 

You’re slightly winded as you finally approach the looming towers. There’s a shallow pool of water separating you and the grim walls, an ocean beyond it. You stare up at it in awe, admiring the handiwork and intricacy of it all. You wondered how long it took to make and what it looked like on the inside. “It’s called ‘Pandora’s Vault’,” Ranboo says in a small voice. “Have you been in there?” He nods, not able to look at the building in front of you. “I’m sorry if this is a bad topic, but what is he like? Dream, I mean. If you don’t want to-” “No, it’s ok,” he cuts you off. He finally looks up at the walls and sits down, patting the spot next to him. “He’s… He’s ruthless and cold. He acts like he cares about people and what they have to say, but only really cares about how it makes him look. The more power, the better. He’s killed people in cold blood and laughed about it. He… He’s in my head. He knows how to use my enderwalk to his ability, and even I don’t know what it is.” He pauses for a while and you both sit in silence, the sky clearing so the stars and moon shine down brightly on you. 

“He used to be a mentor. Someone to look up to. He helped us with so many things. Taught us how to fight and protect ourselves. But then he snapped. I’m not sure exactly what caused it, but it might have been L’Manburg. People wanted freedom from his rule so they created a new country. He got power hungry. Killed Tommy and Tubbo over stupid discs.” You could see him fight back tears but then he steeled himself again, showing no emotion. “Tommy, Tubbo, and a whole bunch of other people ended up cornering him. Tommy took two of his lives and they threw him in there,” he gestured towards the prison. “Dream and Tommy were locked in there for a week together because…” He trailed off and his eyes glazed over. You watched as he sat there thinking, spacing off completely. He shook his head and looked over at you, finally meeting your gaze. “He beat Tommy to death with a grin on his face. Sam said he was laughing the whole time.” You stared at him in shock. “So, why didn’t Sam stop him?” Ranboo shrugged and looked away again. “Something about protocol. Not being allowed to let guests out when the prison was placed under lockdown.” You thought for a moment, a slight breeze making you shiver. 

“Do… Do you think he can be saved? Like, do you think he could ever be the person he was before? I don’t know him, of course, so I wouldn’t know, but do you?” He chuckled. “Y’know… I never really thought about that. I’d say… Probably not. He’s done so many horrible things. I don’t think he can be redeemed.” You nod, silence falling over the two of you again. You don’t know how long you both sat there before you fell asleep, the sound of gentle waves splashing against the sand and a gentle breeze wafting the smell of flowers and sea salt to you. The moon shone brightly against you, basking you in a comforting glow as you slowly slumped over onto the beach below. Ranboo, too, was slowly falling asleep, barely able to keep his eyes open. The only thing that alerted him was you bumping his shoulder before descending slowly to the sand. He brought up his inventory sheepishly and brought out supplies to make a small tent for you, figuring carrying you in his tired state this late in the night would be too much of a strain. When he finished your tent, he made his own right next to yours and crawled in to fall asleep.

The smell of flowers carried into your dreams and you woke in a start. There, standing above you, was the man in green with the smile mask. The full moon positioned behind him cast a beautiful glow on everything around you. You looked around to see yourself laying in a field, the trees far off in the distance and a city in the opposite direction. Their tall buildings decorated in an oriental way and a giant dragon statue resting on a hill. You look back up to see the man has extended a hand to you. You bring yourself to your elbows but stay that way. He shrugs and drops his hand as he turns, steps sideways, and falls backwards. “I may have lied to you,” the man says. You look back at him in curiosity. “About what part?” He takes a second to decide whether or not to tell you. He takes in a small, hissed breath before answering. “My name. I may look like Dream, but I’m actually DreamXD. A separate entity, but the same in a lot of ways.” “So what does that mean? The same but separate?” He shifts slightly. “Well, I’m a god, essentially. I can do almost everything.” 

You lay back down and put your hands behind your head and look up at the stars. “So why do you want me to help Dream?” He sits up and bounces slightly. “I’m boooored,” he drawls. “And… I’m not allowed to let him out. Or… I can’t.” You look up at him as he brings his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. “Can’t? Is that the ‘almost everything’ you said?” He nods. “Sam made the prison to keep Dream in… But also to keep me out.” He looks back at you, mischief hidden in his eyes behind his mask. You hum and close your eyes. “I’ve heard the things he’s done. I’ve never heard of you. Why is that?” There’s a low growling and you open your eyes to see the air around him ripple and sparkle. This only lasts for a couple seconds before he takes a deep breath and recollects himself. He falls back down and the air around him feels cold and lonely, and for a split second you feel bad for the man. 

“So, are you saying you're bored of things that are happening? Is Dream really as bad as people make him out to be?” DreamXD laughs shortly. “Absolutely. Dream is horrible. He deserves to stay in prison, but the server… The pawns are boring me.” You furrow your brows at his wording but brush it off as just you being confused. The people here might call things by different names and words. “What happens if I do somehow manage to break him out? Why should I do that?” It’s his turn to hum. “Well, you don’t have to. Breaking him out could be suicide. Or it couldn’t. No one knows who you really are here. I doubt anyone really trusts you yet either. But Dream? Dream would see you as an ally if you break him out. You would have power. People would fear you. You could have your own land to call your home. Riches that no one else has. He would probably grant you immunity for his freedom and he would protect you so long as you don’t betray him.” You mull all of this over and sit up slowly, looking down at the man beside you. “And why should I trust you?” He sits up as well, facing you now and crossing his legs. “Why shouldn't you? I mean, really, who can you trust? You have so many choices you can make, you just have to take a leap and trust the fall. And if you could come across me in the real world… Well… Again, I’m a god. If you do this for me, you could have anything you wanted. It’s just all up to you.” 

You run your hands through your hair before standing up and start pacing back and forth in front of him. You stop and look down at him. You can practically feel the grin on his face. “And if I don’t?” He shrugs and stands as well. He’s tall and menacing, but the energy radiating from him raises your adrenaline and excites you. “Who knows? He could get out on his own and you would be in his way. Or maybe he stays in and you get to live your secret life with Ranboo, Techno, and Phil. You just have to jump and fall. You’re an outsider. A nobody. Do you want to stay that way, or do you want to be known? You were royalty. You could be again, if Dream allowed it of course.” “If,” you repeat. “This is a lot relying on an if.” You turn and look out over the field leading to the city below. “Let me think on it.” You turn back to face him but he’s gone. You hear his chuckle and turn in various directions, soon realizing his voice is now in your head. “I’ll come back in a week. Have an answer by then and maybe I’ll have a reward if you choose to let him out.” 

And just like that he’s gone. You stand there, body vibrating from excitement of now having something on the line. It isn’t until that second that you realize you don’t know your surroundings. The past couple of dreams you’ve had, you knew where you were since you had been there before. But this time was a new setting. The edges of your vision rippled and waved a green hue before everything faded to the bright color. 

Warm. You were overly warm and sweaty as you rolled over. You noticed the sun wasn’t burning into your eyes when you opened them. Instead you were met with the sight of a large woolen blanket thrown over some logs as a makeshift cover. You sat up and a coat rolled off of you and onto the sand below. Everything was covered in a light dusting of mist and dew from the morning air and you could hear the gentle lapping of waves coming from a few feet past your tent and the crackling of a fire. You slowly crawled out of the tent, the chilly morning air combined with the breeze coming off of the water chilling you. Ranboo sat next to the fire, book in hand but not moving, totally spaced out. You crawled the rest of the short distance and Ranboo looked up at you and smiled. “Good morning! Did you get much sleep?” You sat across from him, the fire now in between the two of you. “Yes, actually. I never used to get much sleep because of my dreams, but lately they’ve been somewhat bearable.” He smiled politely at you and you smiled back, happy from the warmth coming from the fire and the thought of his kindness.

You both sat there talking for at least an hour about random little details about your lives, relishing in the sweet breeze. He asked questions about your dreams and you explained them the best you could. He listened intently as you recalled details about your life that you got to relive in your dreams. A lot of them were horrible stories to relive, but the dreams helped you resolve a lot of conflicts through the years. When the conversation finally switched, Ranboo told you stories about his life. He admitted to not remembering a lot of it, but he had been doing research and keeping track of things by writing them in his books. He flipped through a couple pages and let you look at a few. There were scratches of pictures and notes written in another language across various pages. He didn’t let you look much longer and shut the book quickly, seeming to realize something or had seen something. He went idle for a moment and you sat there in silence, the fire long forgotten about as the embers glowed. 

“Ranboo?” His eyes glazed over, staring off towards the prison. His mouth made small movements, seeming to be whispering quietly to himself. “Ranboo,” you said again, this time reaching out to touch his shoulder. He looked at you slowly, mind clearly stuck in a fog. He looked at you inquisitively but said nothing. You remembered hearing him say something about an enderwalk state and assumed this is what he meant. It didn’t last very long though as his eyes came back into focus, regaining their vibrant hues. “Well, we should head off,” you said, happy to have him back but wanting to play it off in case it made him uncomfortable. He stared at you for a moment longer before nodding his head, getting up, and packing away the tent supplies. 

The trip back was quiet and slightly tense, but still comfortable. There was a sense of calm and trust, but also caution and doubt. He didn’t ask what happened and you didn’t mention it. If he wanted to talk about it more, he would and that would be his choice. He seemed to shy away from the topic in passing anyway so why bring it up on purpose? Same went for your previous dreams. Thinking back on what DreamXD had said made you question so many things. You wanted to trust these people, but why should you? He made a very good point about that. Ranboo seemed to be the only one you could currently trust. But what did you want? He mentioned power, but it was never really about that… Right? Why were you a figure head before? You thought back about your time as a ruler, remembering certain details that pointed to you loving the power you had. The way everyone loved you and did as you told them to. The way you could get your hands dirty and still have people trust and fear you at the same time. People knew not to get in your way, but they also knew they could trust you with their problems and count on you to resolve things quickly without error. Maybe it really was about power? Or maybe you loved the thrill of being in control of so many people’s lives. Or maybe you just loved how people bent to your will without it being questioned. Whatever it was, you had a week to think about it before having to give DreamXD your answer.

[thefutureduchessmarie]

My thoughts on Buck Begins (and why it was such a letdown to me)

There was a lot to love about this episode (particularly the background it provided on Buck and Maddie), but ultimately it failed to live up to the expectation for me. Here’s why: FOCUSING ON BUCK/MADDIE INSTEAD OF BUCK/CHOSEN FAMILY

So far the season did a great job in showing exactly how and why Buck grew up with so many abandonment issues and feeling like he wasn’t enough. But the issues didn’t come from Maddie. Sure, he was hurt when she moved away, but that had already been mostly dealt with. And of course discovering she lied to him his whole life was hard, but I feel like given their current relationship Buck would always forgive her for that, he just needed time to process it. What I really needed from this episode was for Buck to realize/accept that he’d already found the family he’s been looking for his whole life. 

The idea that he 118 are each other’s chosen family is one of the central themes of the show, and I needed that energy now, more than ever. All I wanted was to see them doing everything they could to save Buck, not because it’s their job, but because they love him. And they did - each one of them walked into that building, knowing they could very well die. We just didn’t get to see that because the show failed to realize that should have been the climax all along. 

Was there seriously no one who could tell him that he doesn’t have to save every single person on the planet in order to be worthy? That he’s enough on his own? Because that’s the reason why he keeps putting himself in life-threatening situations to begin with. And instead of helping him realize that, they praised him for it and told him that’s why they love him so much, reinforcing his belief that he needs to be out there saving people in order to earn the right to be loved.

BOBBY 

The father/son relationship between him and Buck has been an important part of the show since season 1. So when it was revealed that Buck Begins would address Buck’s complicated relationship with his parents and culminate with him being stuck in a fire - a situation that mimics the way Bobby’s children died, it felt like everything was lining up for this dynamic to be the heart of the episode. It seemed to offer the perfect opportunity for both of them to make peace with their past (Bobby couldn’t save his children, but he could save Buck; and Buck could get closure from his parents and fully accept Bobby as the only parents figure he needs in his life). The crossover only seemed to confirm that. 

By ignoring that, and not showing any special focus on Bobby, they didn’t just waste the opportunity to tell a beautiful and meaningful story. They completely disrespected Bobby as a character. Because you look me in the eye, and tell me that seeing someone he recognizes as a his kid, someone he loves and feels responsible for stuck in a building on fire wouldn’t be triggering as fuck to Captain Nash! The show can’t just ignore the single most traumatizing event of his life simply because they don’t know how to address more than one relationship (Buck/Maddie) in one episode.   

EDDIE 

If there’s one thing I hate in television, it’s fan service. Its always painfully obvious when a show is doing something not because they believe in it,  but because the fans want it. However, right now 911 is doing a sort of anti-fan-service that is just as terrible. Basically, they created a “Buddie monster” that doesn’t seem to have been planned and now they have no idea how to handle it. It was so clear that they were going out of their way to avoid any Buddie moments in this episode, that they ended up throwing Eddie’s characterization and the beautiful friendship they wrote for him and Buck out of the window. 

The Eddie I’ve been seeing for 3 seasons now would be the first to rush into that building after Buck, even before he got any confirmation or authorization from anyone. Instead, they turned him into this ice cold person right when Buck was feeling so unloved and abandoned. They don’t want to make Buddie as a couple? Fine. I can live with that. But please don’t disrespect the amazing friendship that has been canonically written. If they don’t think they can show us Eddie caring and worrying about his best friend without making it romantic, then it means they’re not doing they’re job well.

They also inadvertently created a power imbalance between those two that literally no one asked for. Because now, if you compare how each of them reacted to the other being stuck in a life risking situation, it comes across as Buck caring way more than Eddie. Which I don’t think it’s true, but alas…. Its there now, and it reinforces Buck’s feelings of never being enough. 

(And yes, I’m already taking into account their different personalities. I never expected Eddie to panic in the way Buck did in Eddie Begins. But I was expecting him to freak out in his own Eddie way, which he didnt. At all. Despite the show repeatedly showing us how important Buck is in his life and how much he unravels without him)

The cheap queer baiting (“I feel like he’s working his way through the village people”? They were purposely showing past-Buck in queer stereotypes and they know it. And Im really getting tired of them not putting their money where their mouth is) v them going out of their way to make sure there were no meaningful interactions between Buck and the man people ship him with 

PLAIN-ASS INCONSISTENCIES OR WEAK TV :/

First thing Bobby told them when they got to the scene was that they couldn’t separate from the team. They’re all trained professionals, fully aware of how risky the situation was. They’re also aware that Buck is the most reckless member of the team on a normal day, and that day he was dealing with some particularly difficult shit. So why the hell did no one stop him when he tried to separate from the team? If you wanna convince yourself the 118 suck and don’t love Buck, fine, but I know its not true. So Hen and Chim letting Buck go just feels out of character to me. Something the writers did, not because it made sense, but because they needed to have him alone and couldn’t come up with a better plan.

Now compare that to Eddie Begins, for example, a Begin episode that followed a very similar structure. Eddie being stuck didn’t feel forced, because the situation was properly explained and contextualized.  Everything made perfect sense given their line of work, the team dynamics and protocol. It felt like the natural consequences of a very risky job. It also made sense that Eddie Begins focused so much on Eddie/Christopher and climaxed with him fighting like hell to return to his son, because that’s Eddie’s struggle - feeling like he failed as a parent.

Buck’s struggle is feeling like he was always the one left behind. The one people didn’t love enough, because he it made it hard to. So by not focusing on his relationship with his chosen family, all we’re left with is “Buck and Maddie against the world”. Which is not where any of those characters deserve to be and ignores all the progress that has been made for 4 seasons. 

By focusing so much on this one relationship, they also turned this into “Buck and Maddie Begins”, instead of Buck Begins. THEY COULDN’T EVEN FOCUS ON BUCK IN HIS OWN EPISODE. Tell me how is this supposed to help resolve his insecurities?  

I did love all the flashbacks and the moments between the siblings tho. And I cried reals tears when Maddie pulled out her own version of Buck’s box. I guess I’ll just have to rely on fanfiction and headcanons to fill all the voids mentioned above 

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 44

Title: Aftermath

Warnings: angst, profanity, mention of a suicide attempt, talk of mental illness

Tagging:  @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip​

Or read on Ao3 if that’s more your jam:   https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860450/chapters/77430731​

He spends the first ten minutes fighting off a panic attack. Chest impossibly tight and feeling as if it’s on fire; heart pounding and his hands trembling and a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow and gathering along his hairline. Head swimming and stomach lurching; the burn and the taste of bile as it gathers in the back of his throat. Legs threatening to give out from underneath him; forced to sit on the kitchen floor with his eyes closed as he leans back against the cupboards. Reminding himself to just breathe; drawing in deep, ragged breaths and releasing them slowly. Easily recalling one of many grounding exercises Doctor Klein had instilled in him years ago. A quick and surprisingly successful technique that he’s employed numerous times when he’s been alone; terrified he’d finally reached his breaking point and was in the process of losing his mind. And he can hear the man’s voice now; five things you can see, four things you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, and one you can taste. Relief surging through him when it begins to work. The nausea abating and the room no longer spinning around him; heart rhythm slowing and the vice around his chest loosening.

The first time he’d an episode, he’d thought he was having a heart attack. Waking up from a dead sleep and finding himself filled with the most profound and overwhelming sense of terror and impending dread; the walls feeling as if they were closing around him and the pain and the tightness in his chest near crippling. He couldn’t even be sure if he’d been dreaming; if a nightmare filled with horrendous images of his wife and children being physically and sexually tortured had been what kickstarted things. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Horrific and brutal dreams involving his family tearing him out of many a night’s rest; sending him scrambling for the bathroom in order to vomit and then finding him sobbing uncontrollably in a fetal position on the floor. Taking several minutes for him to reach full consciousness; brain finally able to register his surroundings and identify them as familiar and convince him that he -and his family- were safe and sound. Suddenly aware of the touch of his wife’s hands and the sound of her voice. Finding her kneeling beside him and speaking to him in that soothing and patient way she’d long ago developed just for him; a palm moving in slow circles in the middle of his back as the fingers of her other hand repeatedly combed through his hair. Neither worry of fear clouding her eyes or furrowing her brow; displaying nothing but love and understanding and tenderness. She was no stranger to those kinds of moments; she’d seen many a fellow Marine wake up in the field in the midst of a panic attack or a night terror and had watched the methods deployed by field medics in how to properly handle them.

While he’d been comforted by the way she’d handled things before AND after, he’d also felt ashamed; sickened that she’d had to not only witness him at his most vulnerable, but be the one to render aid. Toxic masculinity, she’d said, when he’d admitted how pathetic it had made him feel; a woman half his size having to take care of HIM. Years having it drilled into him that any sign of weakness or display of emotion made him a lesser man; one that would never be respected or able to properly provide for his family, never mind protect them. She’d never laughed at the ridiculousness of it; never told him to simply get over that line of thinking or looked at him as if he WERE losing his mind. Instead listening quietly and intently; alternating between rubbing his shoulders or holding one of his hands in both of her own as he talked about all the ways his father had attempted to ‘teach’ him how a real man should be. Stern and strict. Controlling. Intimidating. Abusive. Admitting he was terrified of one day cracking and following in his own man’s footsteps; worried he’d begin treating her just as horrible as his mother had been so many years ago. And she’d leaned in to kiss him; cradling his face in her hands and using her thumbs to clear away the wayward tears that trickled down his cheeks. Pulling back and gracing him with that smile that’s always been reserved solely for him; so beautiful and pure and perfect and letting him know just how much he IS loved.

“You could NEVER be like him,” she’d assured him. “Ever. You have too good of a heart. Too big of one. And you love me way too much.”

It’s always been humbling; the blind faith she has in him, the adoration and respect she’s consistently shown. Over the years he’s battled with the belief that he doesn’t deserve any of it; this beautiful and incredible woman so full of light and brightness showing that kind of affection and love towards him. The one person solely responsible for everything that is good in his world; a stable home surrounded by the comfort and security that comes with the familiarity and routine of domestic bliss, seven incredible children that are the embodiment of everything that is amazing and beautiful about the two of them. She’d not only saved him that day on the Sultana Bridge, but in so many other ways as well; her patience and her unwavering loyalty and steadfast belief in him always helping him through every battle he’s faced

The one true constant in his life; the sleepy smile he wakes up to every morning and the warm body that presses against his and the tender touch and the soft kiss that he’s blessed with every night. His most steadfast supporter and cheerleader; spending weeks sleeping on fold out beds alongside of him in the hospital, always there in the recovery room when he comes to after a surgery, attending gruelling physiotherapy appointments and even lending a hand when she was heavily pregnant with Takota and Brooklyn. Never letting his misguided anger and frustration bring her down; always quick with a smile or a kiss to his cheek or a comforting and encouraging hand rubbing his back. No matter what, he’s always been able to rely on her being there. Enthusiastically greeting him the moment he walks through the door; whether he’s been gone a couple of days or a couple of weeks. Always happy to see him even if it’s through a FaceTime session; all the tension and the stress of the job evaporating the second she smiles and he hears her voice. Those little trips she’ll make into the gym or the office; bringing him something to drink or eat and then sitting quietly on the sidelines waiting for him to finish his workout or his job responsibilities. She’s always been there. Even during the darker and the more trying times; taking him back time and time again and forgiving the lies he’s told and overlooking the promises he’s broken.

When she leaves, he attempts to chase after her. Prepared to beg and plead with her to forget everything he’d said about wanting to die; just come back to the house where she’s safe and warm. He’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. To fix the mess that exists inside his head and become the man that she deserves; the rock and the fervent supporter and ferocious protector that she’s always believed him to be and he’s failed to live up to time and time again. He’ll tell her whatever she wants to hear; make promises that he fully intends to keep, attend more therapy if that’s what it will take, even do a stint in rehab to get all the carvings for the meds and the booze out of his system. There’s nothing he WON’T do for her; no monster or demon he won’t slay for her, no battle he won’t fight, no war he won’t suit up for. As long as she’ll just stay. Come back to their home and their children and their marriage; fulfill those vows of ‘til death to us part’. He wants to believe it isn’t about him; her need for breathing room and space. But he knows full well that he’s put too much of a burden on her; time and time again leaning on her and expecting her to give way more than she possibly has to give.

He has one foot out the door when the signs of life sounded from the floor above; giggling children and doors being tossed open and little feet racing for the bathrooms. And he has to abandon all plans on going after her; forcing himself to get his shit together for the sake of his children. There’s morning cuddles and kisses to give and mouths to feed. Tales of wild and vivid dreams to listen to and smart ass comments and jokes to laugh at. They rely on him more than she does; a grown woman that is fully capable of handling her own no matter what situation she finds herself tossed into. She’s strong and tenacious and extremely resilient; not needing him, but choosing to be with him and enjoying being provided for and loved and protected. His children fully depend on him; requiring him to put food in their bellies, having to assist the littles in getting clean up and dressed, being Tanner’s ‘person’ when it comes to needing stability and routine. And it frightens him in a way. The realization that she actually doesn’t require him; knowing full well that she’s more than capable of taking care of herself and their seven children. It further feeds into his belief that walking away would be easy for her; her strength and confidence urging to make a break for it. So self sufficient and so independent that one day she WILL decide that it’s all too much. HE’S too much. And his entire life will be forever altered.

TJ and Declan team up to keep the smallest kids busy; hunkering down with them in the living room and plying them with cartoons and their standard ‘appetizers’ of glasses of chocolate milk and poptarts. He tends to preparing breakfast; scrambling eggs and cutting and chopping various fresh fruits. Tanner stands on a chair beside him; excitedly rambling as he shares every detail about the extremely vivid and excited dream from the night before. Always the helper in the kitchen, he enthusiastically mixes three separate bowls of pancake mix because he always insists that ‘extras’ be added BEFORE starting the cooking process; bananas and chocolate chips for Brooklyn, raspberries and pineapple for Alannah and Millie. Tanner was the one he’d been most worried about; concerned that his mother’s uncharacteristic absence would frighten him and send his emotions into a tailspin. She hasn't just been Tyler’s constant, but the kids’ as well; practically raising them singlehandedly due to the job keeping away from home for weeks at a time. She’d spent six months being the only full time parent. Exhausting herself with caring not only for a home, but three preschoolers as well; Millie just shy of entering junior kindergarten and the boys still in daycare.

Mummy has always been there for ALL of the kids. Nurturing them and caring for them and spending the better part of seven years pregnant; selflessly sacrificing her body and some of her sanity in order to give him the large family he so desperately craved. Waiting until they were all old enough to be out of the house to make her dream of owning the bookstore come true; able to work around school and daycare schedules so she could spend as much as time as possible with them. And while it had been difficult at first for them to adjust to her being gone for prolonged periods of time, they’ve gotten used to it; accustomed with mum and dad going away -ALONE- for a week or two in order to give one another the attention and the time that they so rightfully deserve. They’re all strong in the belief and that faith that mummy will ALWAYS come back; never once fearing that if once she walks out the door, she’ll never walk back in. Mummy would NEVER abandon them.

It’s helped; keeping his body and his mind active. Concentrating on the simple task of making a meal and focusing on every word tumbling from Tanner’s mouth. Hearing the giggles and the conversations that drift into the kitchen from the living room. But the worry and the fear still nibble at him. It’s two fold; concerned not only that her time to think will lead her to the realization that she simply can’t deal with him and his issues any longer, and that there’s someone out there that would take advantage of her being alone. IF the neighbour is a threat, she isn’t working alone; too ‘out there’ with her curiosity surrounding him and his family to be the one in charge. It would be too obvious; her desperate attempts to get closer to him and cause issues in his marriage. Anyone with any background knowledge of him knows exactly what would hobble and weaken him; grabbing a hold of his wife and using her as a leverage. And as much as he tries not to allow his mind to go down that rabbit hole, it’s inevitable. The thoughts of what they’d do to her -mentally AND physically- enough to once again bring about the panic; chest tightening and his heart initially fluttering and then the pace quickening.

Five things you can see. Four you can touch. Three you can hear. Two you can smell. One you can taste.

He repeats it over and over again in his head. Thankful when his chest loosens and the nausea and the light headedness pass and his hands no longer tremble.

*****

Addie’s the last to join the family. Chin tucked into her chest and her hair falling over her face; a dramatic pout curving her lips and her normally brilliant and sparkling eyes dark and brimming with tears. Frederick the koala tucked tightly under her arm; not saying a word as she struggles to climb onto Tanner’s now empty chair. Impossibly tiny for five, but filled with confidence and independence and resiliency.

“What’s up with you?” Tyler inquires, and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “You look like someone kicked your puppy. Didn’t sleep well?”

“I slept fine.” That voice is tinier than usual, sad and full of despair. And she brushes her hair away from her face and presses the heel of a palm into one eye, then the other. “Where’s mummy?”

“She had to go out for a little bit.”

“Where? Where did she have to go?”

“To do stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“Mummy stuff. Things mummies do.”

“Did she go to the store? Is that where she went?”

“I don’t know, Peanut. She just had to go out.”

She heaves a heavy, forlorn sigh. “When will she be back?”

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

He consults the digital clock on the stove. “Thirty minutes.”

“That’s a LONG time,” Addie whines. “ Why didn’t she tell me she was leaving?”

“You were asleep. She didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Mummy never leaves without saying bye to us. And she never leaves in the morning. She’s always here when we get up. Why would she go somewhere? She never does that. That’s not a normal mummy thing to do.”

“Well, sometimes things come up,” he attempts to reason. “That we can’t help. Don’t take it personal, okay? That she didn’t say bye to you. She probably thought you wouldn’t be up until later; when she was already home.”

“Can I call her?”

He nods in the direction of the phone charging on the nearby counter. “You could, but she didn’t take her phone.”

“Now I’m really worried,” Addie promptly bursts into tears. “Mummy never forgets her phone!”

“Ads, it’s okay,” TJ assures her as he joins them in the kitchen. Scooping his little sister off the chair and into a tight, comforting embrace, her tiny arms and legs immediately circling his neck and waist. And he presses a kiss to her forehead and strokes her hair; body proceeding to sway side to side in an attempt to soothe her. “Mum’s forgotten her phone lots of times. She was always leaving it behind when I was your age.”

Addie sniffles noisily. “She was?”

“Yup. You know how many times she had to run back into the house? Or we had to drive all the way back to get it? Tons! You just weren’t around then. By the time you came around, she’d gotten better at remembering it, that’s all.”

“She’s coming back, right?”

“Of course she’s coming back. She wouldn’t leave us. Or dad. Why would she do that?”

Addie shrugs.

“She loves all of us. Way too much to ever leave us behind. She probably just had to go and help Ovi and Riya. It gets crazy; planning a wedding. Tons of stuff to do. They probably just needed some help.”

“You think that’s it?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s it. I mean, they wouldn’t ask dad. He wouldn’t be much help.”

Tyler grabs one of the dish towels from off the handle of the stove and playfully swats his older son upside the back of the head with it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Mum would be better at that kind of thing. Weddings and parties and all that. That’s not exactly your field of experience, dad. You’re more the get the spiders and the snakes out of the house and fix and build stuff kind of guy. And a big time ass kicker.”

“Daddy DOES kick a lot of ass,” Addie agrees.

“Plus, he’s a WAY better cook,” TJ adds. “So isn’t it kind of good that he’s the one that’s here? That he’s the one who gets to make breakfast?”

She nods. “Daddy makes the best breakfasts EVER.”

“Exactly. Mum and dad know their strengths. People who work well together do. And they’ve been together a long time; ever since Millie was in mum’s tummy. That’s a long time to be in love with each other. If dad says mum will be back, then she will. He knows her better than anyone.”

A lump of emotion settles in Tyler’s throat and threatens to choke him. It’s a mixture of things that have him feeling weak and vulnerable. The level of tenderness and compassion that inhabits his oldest son; the patience and the understanding and the unbridled love he shows to the smallest of his siblings. Addie has especially taken to him; TJ her ‘person’ if daddy isn’t around to turn to for help or comfort. He’s both humbled by his son’s genuine praise and blatant adoration, but left feeling unworthy of it; knowing full well he’s broken many promises and disappointed his children in the past and often failed in his role as not just a parent, but a husband. And the fear continues to nag at him; the worry that either his wife will return and announce she simply can’t take it -HIM- anymore, or that a threat is just waiting in the wings to grab her.

“I wish she didn’t have to go,” Addie says, as her older brother’s fingers brush away her tears. “Mummy always spends time in the morning with me. When I first get up. Ever since I was tiny.”

“Ads,” TJ pushes his fingers through her hair; moving it off her forehead and making her giggle when he scrunches his face and brushes the end of his against hers. “You’re STILL tiny.”

“I meant tiny, tiny. When I was still in diapers. Mummy would get up with me and she’d make herself a tea and she’d get me a drink in my sippy and then she’d cuddle me on the couch and we’d watch tv together. It’s our ‘thing’. I don’t want to miss our ‘thing’.”

“I’m sure mum didn’t want to miss your ‘thing’ either,” her brother assures her. “It had to be really important for her to miss it. Mum would never just skip out on your ‘thing’ for no reason. Does mum EVER do that? Take off and not do something important with us?”

Addie shakes her head. “Never.”

“So it had to be something really big and really important for her not to be here. Don’t worry; mum will be back. Soon.”

“How soon?”

“I dunno. Probably in time for breakfast. She has to eat, right? If it would make you feel any better, I’ll do your ‘thing’ with you.”

“It’s mummy and my thing, though.”

“I’m sure mum would be cool with me taking her place just once. It’s just for today; tomorrow she’ll do your ‘thing’ with you again. You really think she’d mind?”

“I don’t think so. But just this once.”

“Just this once,” TJ promises. “I’ll even drink tea. So it’s like being with mum.”

You HATE tea. Like daddy.”

“Yeah, I do. I think it tastes like ass. But I’ll drink it anyway. If it makes the experience better for you.”

“You’d do that? For me?”

“Of course I would. You’re my Ads. It’s what older brothers do for their baby sisters. Especially one as cute and awesome as you.”

Addie’s eyes widen. “You think I’m cute? And awesome?”

“Your mum’s Mini Me, right? And mum’s cute and awesome. That means you are too.”

“I love you Tyler.” She presses a noisy kiss to each of his cheeks, then his lips. “You’re the best big brother. Ever.”

“Well, don’t tell any of the others…” he lowers his voice to a whisper. “...but you’re my favourite little sibling.”

“I knew it!” Addie whispers in return.

“I’ll make my tea and get your chocolate milk,” he says, and places her on the ground. “You go wait in the living room. Tell Declan I said to put what YOU want to watch on.”

“Okay!” She hurries from the room, then stops at the breakfast bar that serves as the divider between kitchen and dining room. “Don’t forget! It goes in my favourite cup!”

“I know. The purple one with your name on it in pink glitter. This isn’t my first rodeo, Ads. I got you.”

“You’re awesome, too!” she declares, and then hurries for the living room.

“You’re good with her,” Tyler praises his oldest son. “VERY good with her.”

“She really IS my favourite,” he admits. “I mean, don’t get me wrong; I love ALL of them. Even Millie. Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“But there’s something different about Addie. The way I feel about her. Like, I feel like I HAVE to take care of her. Protect her. Maybe because she’s so small? And so cute? Maybe because she IS so much like mum? I don’t know. I just know how I feel. Does that make sense?”

“Total. And let’s face it; mum’s your favourite too.”

“Well, yeah. She’s my mum. She carried me inside of her. At the same time as Tanny. I love you, dad. You know I do. But that’s my mum.”

“You know, you’ve got more of her inside you than anyone realizes. And believe me, that’s a good thing. A damn good thing.”

“She’s my ‘person’. Like you are with Tanny. We all have our ‘person’. Mum is your person, right?”

“She is. Always has been.”

“Just like you’re hers. That’s what's good about you and mum. You’re not just married. You actually LIKE each other. You’re friends. BEST friends.”

“She’s definitely my favourite human. My favourite BIG human.”

“Dad…” TJ’s voice and face become sombre, and he lays a hand on Tyler’s shoulder. “I don’t know what happened or what’s really going on. Or why mum really did leave. But I know she loves you. No matter what.”

The lump in his throat returns; tears well in his eyes.

“She’d never take off,” his son assures him. “There’s too much between you guys. I’m only ten and even I know that. And you what ELSE I know? I know that you guys are stronger together than you are apart.”

“Yeah…” Tyler swallows noisily. “...we are.”

“It’s going to be okay,” TJ promises. “YOU’LL be okay. You always are.”

****

She finds a cafe four blocks from home. A tiny hole in the wall place that she’s only stepped foot in once before; heavily scuffed and creaky hardwood floors, a half dozen mismatched tables with formica tops and metal chairs with weathered, red vinyl cushions, their full menu printed on chalkboards mounted on the wall behind the lone register. And she returns the waitress’ welcoming smile with a forced one of her own before making her way to the counter that stretches across the front window; sliding onto one of the bar stools and placing her knapsack style purse in her lap. While she’d been hopeful that the fresh air and warmer temperatures would help both clear her head and improve her mood, her nerves remain on edge; her shoulders painfully tense and the lingering uneasiness in her stomach no match for the deep and profound ache that has settled in her chest. It’s a hard thing to hear; the person you love more than anything in the world...who you’ve devoted your entire existence too...confess to thoughts of suicide. They’ve been there before; his brain attempting to convince him that her life would be better off without him in it. That he’d no longer be a burden on her. A broken and troubled man locked in a constant battle with his own mind; waging war against not only mental illness, but the demons of addiction and alcoholism.

Years ago he’d hit rock bottom. Weeks spent contemplating taking his own life; ending with a hand written suicide note on her pillow and a loaded gun in his hand. She’d returned to the house unexpectedly; forgetting her wallet in the bedroom and having to delay the start of a shoe shopping trip with the kids in order to retrieve it. There’d only been four of them then; Millie and the twin boys in daycare and Declan just shy of six months old, and she’d left them in the car with Ovi while she’d run inside. The house had been eerily still and quiet, yet she hadn’t given it much thought; assuming Tyler was either in the gym with his headphones on and music cranked or out working somewhere on the property. Her blood had run cold when she’d heard it; the faint, yet telltale sound of a magazine being snapped into a handgun and the safety being switched off. And she’d found him sitting on the edge of the tub in the bathroom, revolver resting on his thigh and his finger hovering near the trigger. To this day she’d never seen him look the way he had in the moment he’d regarded her standing in the doorway; face stern and determined and his eyes impossibly dark and empty.

“You need to leave.”

Four simple words. His voice devoid of all emotion.

She had refused to turn around and walk away. It hadn’t even been an option; no matter how nervous or terrified she’d been. She had known that he wouldn’t pull the trigger with her in the room; even at that depth of darkness and despair, he wouldn’t want her to see THAT. Knowing it would haunt her for the rest of her life; her entire world altered and forever haunted by blood and gore and instant death. And he wouldn’t have taken them both out; brain still allowing him to realize that he couldn’t rob his children of BOTH their parents. Instead of leaving, she’d sent Ovi a text message saying to grab the extra keys to her car from their hidden place in the kitchen and take the kids into town; ordering him to keep them out until she called him and let him know it was okay to return. Then she’d simply closed and locked the bathroom door and sat down on the front and leaned back against it. She wasn’t leaving him like that; determined not to let his mind convince him that he needed a permanent solution to a temporary problem.

Even to this day, she’s unsure of how long they’d sat there. Time slowly ticking away as they did nothing more than stare at one another from across the room. Tyler becoming agitated by her presence; upset that she’d interrupted him and was hampering from ‘getting on with it’. It had quickly turned to anger. Pissed off that she wouldn’t leave and that she wouldn’t listen to him when he said it was for the best; that his absence would make her and the kids’ lives so much easier. And she’d sat there silently as he ranted and raved at her; emotionless as he called her every hurtful name in the book in hopes of finally breaking her and giving her no choice but to abandon him. She hadn’t taken any of it to heart; knowing he was in the middle of what could possibly be a psychotic break and that getting all the pent up rage and fear and stress off his shoulders was the best thing for him. And when he turned the mean and degrading words towards himself, she’d slowly began moving towards him. Anything too sudden and too quick could have been bad news; aggravating him and angering him and sending him into a full out rage. Eventually she’d ended up sitting at his feet with her palms on his knees; eyes locked on his and her voice calm and steady when she informed him that she wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t the monster his brain was making him out to be. He was a big man with an even bigger heart, surrounded by people who loved him and wanted nothing more than for him to be alive and well. Reminding him to just breathe; to ignore that voice in his head and just listen to hers instead.

When he’d finally broken down emotionally, she’d been able to gingerly pluck the gun from his hand and remove the clip; tossing both where he couldn’t reach them and then kneeling between his splayed thighs. His face cradled in her palms as he openly wept; her heart breaking as she listened to all the hateful words -directed at himself- that spilled from his mouth. Pressing a series of light kisses across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose and over his lips; fingers combing through his hair as he begged and pleaded with her to help him. He was lost, confused, and terrified; wanting to die yet not wanting to leave her and his kids. In the end, he’d agreed to let her take him to the hospital, and she’d made quite possibly the hardest decision of her life: admitting him to the psychiatric ward and agreeing to have no contact -whether in person or by phone- for two weeks. It would give him the time to rest; body AND brain desperately needing a reprieve. And doctors would get the chance to analyze and investigate; come up with a diagnosis and a game plan and get him the help that he needed.

She hasn’t thought of it in years. That moment in Colorado when she’d come so close to losing him. It hasn’t been that bad since; able to get past the monsters and the demons that continue to haunt him, fighting through depressive episodes and always coming out the other side. And while she’d suspected that his brain has been playing horrible tricks on him and trying desperately to alter his version of himself, it had still hurt like hell to hear it; his confession knocking the air out of her lungs and nearly ripping her heart from her chest. She’s always been able to help him; yanking him away from many an edge, instilling confidence in him after Nathan had cruelly snatched it away, successfully convincing him that he needed medication or therapy. Now she feels helpless; no tricks or plans up her sleeve and simply no energy left to come up with any. It’s a lonely existence at time. A spouse with significant mental health problems and lingering physical issues caused by a list of traumas too vast to name.

For five years they’ve successfully fought back and kept the worst at bay. Learning and adapting healthy coping mechanisms, attending counselling -both separately and together- and making friendships with others in similar situations. This is the worst she’s seen him in a long time, and she knows how difficult it is for him to even get out of bed in the morning; fully aware that he’s at the point of putting one foot in front of the other simply because his family needs him to. She wants to believe that things will start to improve once they’re home. He’ll be back in his ‘happy place’; the warmth of the sun and the feel of the sand between his toes and the smell of the ocean. It��s comforting to him; their home at the end of a very secluded gravel road, the acres of property, and the water right in their backyard. The surroundings ground him. The sound of both the waves and the various wildlife that wanders their property, the wind that blows through the dense forest and tousles the leaves on the trees. He’s easily soothed there; usually needing nothing more than a hike through the woods or a surfboard and a couple hours with the waves to bring an end to even the roughest of ‘down moments’. But the fear is immense. The worry that not even being back in Australia will be enough this time. That he’s spiralling too hard and too fast and not even the water and the sun can make even the slightest bit of difference.

Tears threaten once more. Ones of heartache and fear and desperation. Wanting to reach out to someone...anyone...yet needing space at the same time. She’d avoid her familiar haunts out of fear of running into someone she knows. Wanting to avoid Jacobi with his endless and hopeful flirting and Frank with his dry humour and his well meaning concern and curiosity. Even Desi; the brother she would have loved to have growing up and who she absolutely adores. So compassionate and understanding; always lending a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on. Coming in contact with him would have only made things worse; fearing she’d not only lose it emotionally, but find herself unable to put the pieces back together and be of use to her family. Instead she’d stayed away; wandering in the opposite and unfamiliar direction and hoping and praying her mind would sort itself out before coming in contact with humanity.

It hadn’t worked. And now emotion threatens to choke her and tears prick her eyes; thankful for the oversized shades she’d slipped onto her face before leaving the house.

*****

“You okay, hun?” The waitress cautiously approaches; a glass of ice water in hand and concern on her face. Easily recognizing the tense shoulders and the repetitive, nervous bounce to her legs.

“I’m alright." Her voice quivers with emotion, and she noisily clears her throat. “Just a rough morning.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I heard that. A lot of people come in here when they’re feeling down. We're nice quiet, little place to escape to, I guess.”

Nodding in agreement, she reaches for the water offered to her; chewing anxiously on her bottom lip and quickly pulling her hands back when she notices how bad they’re trembling.

The waitress gives a compassionate, understanding smile and sets the drink down on the counter in front of her. “Do you know what you want, love? There’s no hurry and I’m by no means rushing you. You can take as long you need to decide or sit here all day if you want. Or until we close at three, at least.”

She casts a glance over her shoulder; hurriedly choosing a strawberry and apple flavoured and a plain croissant and then turning her attention to the bag in her lap. The kids had given it to her for her last birthday; picking it out themselves on a family trip they’d made weeks earlier to Cairns. Black leather with rose gold stitching around every edge and throughout the straps; a large rose gold heart -engraved with all of their initials- dangling from the zipper on the side pocket. She rummages through it, top teeth pressing into her bottom lip and her brow furrowing as her search comes up empty. Cell phone nowhere to be found amidst the chaos of old receipts, handfuls of take out napkins from places in New York City and back home, various small toys and trinkets the three littlest had gotten her to ‘hang onto’ and promptly forgotten about. Panic and frustration quickly sets in and has her dumping all of the purse’s contents onto the counter in front of her; trying desperately to hold back not only a flood of tears, but the string of profanities that threaten to burst from her mouth.

She knows the kind of drama it will cause at home. Not just her uncharacteristic early morning absence, but being totally ‘incommunicado’. Tanner and Addie will take it the hardest; the former not appreciative of even the smallest of changes or hitches to his normal routine and the latter used to their long standing ‘morning dates’ of tea and chocolate milk while cuddling on the couch and watching cartoons. And Tyler’s anxiety will be through the roof. Needing the reassurance that she’s fine; safe and sound and not in any danger and not harbouring any plans to abandon her family. The latter is pure paranoia; the long standing belief that she’ll one day see him as a burden and finally decide to cut ties. Logically he knows that she’d never walk away from him or their children; devoted to to their babies and loving him more than she ever thought she could love someone. But when his brain is waging war against him, he isn’t able to think rationally. Those internal voices screaming at him. Insisting that he’s simply too much work and completely undeserving of how she feels about him and the life they have together. And it’s him that she worries about the most; wanting to prevent his mental state from sinking even further and fracturing completely.

“Looks like you really are having a hell of a day,” the waitress comments as she returns with Esme’s order; placing the steaming mug of tea and the croissant on the countertop.

“I forgot my phone,” she frets. “Some days I swear I would lose my head if it wasn’t attached. And I need to call home. I REALLY need to call home.”

“I’ve got you, sweets.” The younger woman shoots her a wink and pats her shoulder comfortingly and then wanders off, quickly returning with a cordless phone and offering it with a sympathetic smile. “Someone there must be worried about you, huh?”

“A handful of someones. A husband. Seven kids.”

The other woman releases a long, low whistle. “YOU have seven kids? You’re not yanking my chain?”

“I’m not. I really do have seven of them.”

“All yours?”

Esme nods.

“Seven kids came from that tiny little body?”

“Yup,” she confirms. “Including two sets of twins.”

“Get out of here!”

“My second pregnancy was twins and my last one was twins. First time was two boys, then I had a girl and a boy.”

“I didn’t think that was possible. Having more than one set. How old are all these kids?”

“Almost twelve, ten and a half, eight, soon to be six, and four and a bit.” She finds talking about them calming; hands no longer trembling as she shoves objects back into her purse.

“That’s seven kids under twelve. And seeing as your littlest are four, you spent the better part of seven years pregnant. Intentionally?”

“A couple WERE surprises,” Esme admits. “Happy surprises. Very happy.”

“And all the same daddy?”

“All the same daddy. I know; it seems pretty far out there. Having that many. Especially in this day and age.”

“Not just THAT. But having that many and looking like you do? You must have found some fountain of youth or somethin’. I only have three and I feel like I’ve been through the damn ringer most days. You’re a lot stronger than I am, that’s for sure. And you must have the patience of a saint.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t. I have an extraordinary LACK of patience. My husband on the other hand? He’s a legend. He’s always Mister Calm, Cool, and Collected. Nothing much fazes him when it comes to being a dad.”

“Well what’s that saying? Opposites attract? You probably balance each other out.”

“We do. Somehow. He can be so serious and so quiet and introverted and I’m on the other end of the spectrum. He always jokes that he likes going places with me because all he has to do is stand there and smile and let me do all the talking.”

“Been married long?”

“Twelve years in October. Best twelve years of my life. Hands down. He’s a good guy." She smiles, and proceeds to repeatedly dunk the tea bag in and out of the steaming water. “A REALLY good guy.”

“Then you better give that really good guy of yours a call. Let him know you’re alright. Take your time. And enjoy your goodies.”

She gives a smile in appreciation. Waiting for the waitress to tend to other customers before dialling the house number; ten rings passing by before the call is sent to voicemail and she disconnects. She tries his cell next; frowning when that attempt also gets sent to messaging.

“Hey…” she begins, nervously drumming the nails on her free hand against the porcelain of her mug. “...you not answering your phone can only mean one of three things; you’re busy with the kids, you still refuse to answer numbers you don’t recognize, or you’re really pissed off and ignoring me. I hope it’s not the latter. I didn’t leave to punish you. Or make you feel bad. Or guilty. I just needed some time. Some fresh air. A chance to clear my head. It just really got to me; you admitting what you did. But we’ll deal with it and we’ll get past it just like we’ve gotten past so many other things. I love you, Tyler. No matter what your brain is telling you right now. And I’m safe and I’ll be home soon.”

Disconnecting the call, she sets the phone down on the countertop and slips her hands under her sunglasses; thumb and forefinger tightly pinching the bridge of her nose. Sighing heavily, she presses the heels of her palms into her eyes. Desperate to control the hot, bitter tears that threaten to fall.

*****

She’s halfway through her second mug of tea when movement outside the window catches her attention; a blur of a fur trimmed hood on a winter coat, long blonde hair that shimmers in the sunlight, and the glint off the gold chain strap of a ridiculously expensive Gucci bag. Next year’s style; released to only a select few that could afford to pay the exuberant price and enjoyed outwardly gaudy accessories. Natalie had been so proud of that purse; making a conscious and annoying effort to draw as much attention to it as possible when she stopped by that morning. Launching into an unneeded and entirely unwanted explanation of being on the ‘short list’ at many high end boutiques courtesy of friends in high places. So obnoxious. That 'holier than thou' persona and her valiant -and completely unsuccessful- attempts to cause problems in someone else’s relationship. Delusional and determined and so very out of line.

The waitress greets the other woman by name when she first steps into the cafe, and when Natalie turns to head towards a seat the inevitable happens; eyes locking with Esme’s and her face blanching and her smile quickly disappearing.

The anger is immediate. The surprise visits and the other woman’s attempts to degrade and humiliate her while standing on her front porch, the spying out the living room window and then following her and Tyler on their date, the supposedly coincidental moments Natalie had managed to bump into him; whether alone or with the kids. They’d long ago stopped keeping secrets from another and he’d been quick to tell her about all the run ins with their new neighbour. Neither believed the incidents were random; Natalie not exactly hiding her interest in him, nor her attempts at causing problems between them. And now knowing personal information that neither of them are ever forthcoming about; placing the blame on an undeserving TJ when confronted.

It’s the latter that infuriates her the most. One of her children being dragged into some thirsty and pathetic woman’s drama. And when Natalie quickly turns on her heel and rushes out the door, Esme abandons her belongings and hurries after her, managing to catch up when the neighbour has to stop and wait to cross the street.

“I don’t fucking think so,” she snarls, and steps in front of other woman, preventing her from stepping off the curb. “You’re not going to run away. Not from me. You have pissed in the wrong woman’s front yard way too many times.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t…”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. Is this some sick little game of yours? Following Tyler and I around? Trying to act all surprised and pass it off as a coincidence when we run into you?”

“It IS a coincidence. All of it is. Just because you’re paranoid…”

“I’m not some stupid and naive little housewife, Natalie. I have been around sneakier and way craftier and sketchier people than you and believe me, I was never shy about calling any of them out on their bullshit. There’s no way they’re all coincidences. The night Tyler and I went on our date? We saw you watching us out your living room window. You didn’t exactly try and hide it. And then you just randomly show up at the same restaurant? Who was the guy? Just some stranger off the street? Did you really think we’d care? That you’re with someone? I don’t give a shit who or what you do. And I know damn well Tyler doesn’t either.”

“He’s certainly been pretty attentive. To me. For a guy that doesn’t care.”

Esme scoffs. “When he said you were delusional, I don’t think he realized just how far off the reservation you actually are.”

“He said that? He called me delusional? Why would he say that? Why…?”

“Because you ARE! You are off the charts delusional! And maybe you’re more than that. Maybe you’re legit insane. Because you are something else. You are conceited and annoying and plain fucking crazy. Who the hell do you think you are? Showing up at my house and talking to me like you do. Following my husband around. Do you actually wait for him to leave? Do you stand at your window and watch him go? Do you just wait around to see him and jump at the opportunity to chase after him? Because that’s not all creepy or stalkerish. What the hell is your issue?”

“We had a connection. At the park. At the restaurant that day. Yesterday at the American Girl store…”

“Oh my god,” Esme laughs. ”You ARE nuts. Certifiably. There was no connection. At least not on his end. He thinks you’re just as insane and unhinged as I do. Tyler is NOT interested in you. In anyone. I don’t know what planet you’re living on where you think you can just walk into someone else’s life and try and steal their husband away, but…”

“You can’t steal what wants to be taken.”

“I can guarantee that he doesn’t want to go anywhere. That my husband is happy. Satisfied. Extremely. And he’s not going to throw that or his relationship with his children away for someone like you. He doesn’t want anything to do with you. He has made that perfectly clear time and time again. He has told you to stay away from him. More than once. I don’t know what part of ‘fuck off’ you don’t understand…”

“He’s just putting on a good front. For you. Because he DOES love you. He’s just not IN LOVE with you. Not anymore. And it happens. It’s been over ten years. People fall out of love all the time. I mean, he obviously loves you as the mother of his children. You’ll always have that to bond you together.”

“There is something majorly wrong with you. You need help. PROFESSIONAL help. My husband DOES love me. In every way you can possibly love a person. I have never doubted that. Not a single moment in the past twelve and a half years. We have a good thing. A damn good thing. And we are not letting you screw that up. You’re obnoxious and you’re insane and I want you to stay away from him. Stay away from Tyler. He’s told you and now I’ve told you. And if I have to tell you again…”

Natalie smirks. “What would YOU do about it?”

“Why don’t you try me and find out? I have dealt with bigger and better and badder than you. And I’m still here. I am telling you right now; stay away from my husband and stay away from my kids. Don’t walk past our house. Go totally out of your way if you have to. But if I find out that you even go past a place where he is…”

“And you call me nuts? Listen to you. Willing to fight for some man.”

“He’s not just some man. He is my husband. The father of my children. And I will fight to the death for him. I will protect him no matter what. Against anything and anyone. Stay away from him, Natalie. He’s not yours to have. He’s not going anywhere. So go and find some cuckold house wife that will let you tie her to chair and force her to watch while you fuck her husband. You’ve got the wrong woman to mess with. I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of ANYONE. Stay away from him.”

“Look at you. You say I’m pathetic? Look how you’re acting. Listen to things you’re saying. You’re possessive and controlling and…”

“Maybe if you had a husband that loved you and you loved in return, you’d understand why I’m being this way. But it sounds like you can’t keep ‘em. What happened to the District Attorney? In Chicago?”

Natalie blinks. “What?”

“Did you forget that the internet exists? That once something is on there, it lives forever? Couldn’t keep him happy, couldn’t keep a string of extremely wealthy -AND very much older- men happy before him. And then there’s the ex husband. Doesn’t he own a sports team? Hockey, right? In Columbus?”

“How do…?”

“What? You think you’re the only one that has ‘people?’” Esme makes air quotes around the last word. “You have no idea the circles I’ve travelled in. Or the people I’m still in contact with. Or the friends I have. I have ways of finding things out. Ways you’ve probably never dreamed of. I don’t know what you’re up to, but you’re not very good at it. You’ve made it more than obvious that you’re interested in Tyler; physically, sexually, personally. You haven’t even tried to hide it. So you’re either really new at all this, or just really, REALLY bad at it.”

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re not making any sense. Now if you’ll just…” Natalie attempts to step past her, but Esme stays firm; placing herself in the much taller women’s path and blocking her escape.

“You didn’t think I’d look into you? Or have someone look into you? We can dig deeper, you know. Much, much, MUCH deeper. And I don’t think you want that. So how about you cut the shit and stop your crap and stay away from my husband. From my FAMILY. Because you have no idea who you are messing with. What kind of damage we can do. So if you value your life the way it is, you’d keep your distance. Because if you don’t? We will turn over every stone and ruin you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“That’s a promise. Like I said; we’ve dealt with bigger and better. Scarier. And dangerous. You’re nothing. You’re a small, harmless fish in a big pond. And it would be easy to ruin you. Is that really a chance you want to take?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Or who you’re talking about. I admit; I AM interested in Tyler. Very interested. And I’m not lying to you when I say there was a connection. One that he’s too afraid to act on.”

“You’re still on that, huh? Still insisting there's something there? There isn’t. And you damn well know it. Tyler would never, EVER, form a connection with anyone else. Especially with the likes of you. So knock it off, Natalie. It is all one sided and I’m sorry that hurts you to hear this, but my husband can’t stand you. He thinks you’re nuts. And he wants you to stay away from him. How many times does he need to tell you? How much plainer does he need to be?”

“He doesn’t want to hurt you. I’m sure at one time he loved you with everything he is and everything he has but…”

“He DOES love me. With everything he is and everything he has. And he loves his life with me. With his children. There is nothing between the two of you. There never will be. So unless you want things to get very unpleasant for you, you’ll back off.”

“Is that why he came onto me? At the American Girl store yesterday? Is that why he propositioned me? Suggested we abandon the kids for a bit and find a storage closet?”

Esme chuckles. “Right. Because THAT would totally happen. First of all, my husband is NOT a cheater. He is -and always has been- one hundred percent faithful and loyal. No other woman in the world exists to him. Not you, not anyone else. Just me. That’s it.”

“Is that what he tells you? Stroke the old ego? Let you think everything is okay and he’s not straying?”

“That IS what he tells me. I know Tyler better than he knows himself. And when he says things like that? He is one hundred percent genuine. I have spent twelve and a half years with that man. Sharing a bed with him. A life. I know him in ways no one else does. So don’t even try and pretend you have any clue who he is or what he thinks or how he feels.”

“And you call me the delusional one? That’s rich.”

“Second of all, even if he WAS a cheater, he would never do something like that; suggest something that crude and disgusting. Not with two of his children and his granddaughter right there. I don’t know what kind of married men you’re used to opening your legs for, but my husband isn’t like them. He is a decent, good man. Who loves his family. Who’d do anything to protect them. Who would stop at nothing to keep us all together. So you can try this bullshit until you’re blue in the face. You could talk all day about it; tell lies about him and try and convince me that he’s a horrible person and that he wants to leave me for you. I won’t believe you. Because I KNOW him. And I also know you’re a lying piece of shit.”

“Well you just know everything, don’t you,” Natalie sneers. “Little Miss Perfect. With her great marriage and her horde of children and all her money and big, beautiful house and amazing life in Australia. You’ve just got all the answers.”

“I am far from perfect. I’m the first one to admit I’m anything but. But I recognize a train wreck when I see it. And you are the biggest I’ve seen by far. Stay away from my husband and stay away from my kids. If you ever even think about dragging one of my children into your crap again, I will come to your house and pull you out by your hair and beat your ass in the middle of the street.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Mess with my husband or my kids again, and I won’t try. I will do it. Don’t underestimate me. Tougher people than you have made that mistake. Walk away, Natalie. If you know what’s good for you. I won’t tell you again.”

“You have no idea who you’re threatening, little girl. No idea at all.”

“God, you’re a real piece of work, you know that? And I’ve worked with some real winners, let me tell you. Just stay away. From Tyler, from my kids, from me. Or the next time you’re told? It won’t be this civil.”

Gathering the sides of her hoodie around her body, she crosses her arms over her chest to hold the fabric in place; eyes on the sidewalk as she begins the short trek back to the cafe. Exhaustion suddenly taking hold; a level of weariness that muddles your brain and seems to settle deep within your bones. She wants nothing more than to go home; kiss and cuddle her children and hear their voices and their giggles. And to be engulfed by those big, strong arms; so powerful and capable of so much damage, yet impossibly soothing and gentle at the same time. Her own arms curling around his waist; eyes closing as he tucks her protectively and lovingly into that solid, muscular chest. No matter how trying and stressful and scary a situation, everything in the world seems right when she’s with him; the warmth of his body and the familiar smell that clings to his clothing and the sound and the feel of his heart beating against her. It’s as if time stands still; everything and everyone else in the universe ceasing to exist. It’s always been like that; feeling safe and secure and protected whenever she’s in his presence. And she reminds herself that they’ve gotten through worse; the demons of his past, his ongoing battles with alcoholism and drug abuse, a six month separation, the aftermath of both trips to Dhaka. And each time they’ve only grown stronger; that intense and profound bond pulling them through even the darkest and scariest of situations. This too shall pass. It will take days. Weeks. Maybe even months. But It WILL pass. And as long as they remain a united front, nothing -or no one- could possibly destroy them.

She reaches for the handle on the cafe’s door just as another customer emerges. Slightly startled when the glass and metal swings towards her; giving a small yelp and jumping back and flattening herself against the brick behind her.

“Sorry about that, miss.” The patron steps through; placing a hand on the door and keeping it open for her. “Didn’t mind to startle you.”

“It’s okay. I was in my own little world and…”

Her voice trails off when she looks up at him, smile quickly fading. Heart hammering wildly in her chest; entire body going rigid and sweat gathering along her hairline as her stomach churns agonizingly. It’s been years since she's seen him; tall and barrel chested and broad shouldered light brown hair now almost completely gray, sparkling hazel eyes. Logically she knows it can’t really BE him. After all, Nathan had ended his life years ago in New Zealand; effectively wiping out any threat he could have posed, yet doing very little for the torment and the heartache that he’d caused her. The years of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse that very nearly broke her.

It isn’t possible. The dead simply don’t come back.

“Are you alright?” He asks, and lifts a take out cup of coffee to his lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m just...I’m…” she struggles to gather her composure. There’s a distinct twang to the man’s voice. Brooklyn, if she can recall from her time spent in New York City. Her mind swims; the shock of seeing a deceased man's face and the lingering terror that his hands, words, and body had long instilled in her. “I’m fine,” she manages a smile. “You just look like someone I used to know. That I was pretty close to. Took my breath away.”

“Good memories, I hope.”

“There’s some,” Esme admits. “But I’d be lying if I said there weren't more bad ones.”

“Well I hate hearing that. Especially coming from a pretty little thing like you. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay. I was in my own little world. It's just been quite the morning. To say the least. And seeing you…”

“What’s that that people say? About everyone having a twin out there somewhere? That’s probably the case. I’m probably that guy’s twin. Sorry if my face brings back some bad things for you.”

“It’s alright. I think I need to just get home. Back to my family. I’ll feel better then.”

“I hope so. You take care now. Sorry to have spooked you. You have a good day. With that family of yours.”

“I will,” she manages another smile; not as nervous and shaky. “Thank you.”

She remains in the open doorway, watching as he saunters down the street. No sign of a hitch to his left leg or a swing to the right hip; injuries Mark had sustained when a tank in a convoy he’d been travelling in hit a roadside bomb; the blast powerful enough to eject him from the light armoured vehicle travelling meters behind. Between the normal gait and the Brooklyn accent…

“Get it together.” she orders a loud, and briefly closes her eyes. “He’s dead. Long dead. There’s no way it’s him. It CAN’T be him.”

Taking in a deep breath, she releases it slowly and opens her eyes, frantically searching for the man that had stood before her just a few short moments ago. The sidewalk is empty for blocks. No sign of her dead ex’s ‘twin’; no one rounding a corner, no car pulling away from any of the curbs. Her heart begins to settle; the pounding in her chest and her ears relenting and the terror that once held her firmly in its grasp finally letting go.

[carewyncromwell]

AU number 5 please!

5. …Your MC ends up in a romantic relationship with their best friend? (If they do end up falling in love with their best friend in canon, what if they fell in love with a different good friend?) 

*glances and smiles apologetically at @cursebreakerfarrier* Ahem.

In most lifetimes, Carewyn and Bill’s relationship went through four stages. In one, however, it went through five.

Stage I: Guardian and Protectorate. When Bill first heard from Charlie about his classmate, the younger sister of the “delinquent” Jacob Cromwell, he immediately felt sorry for her. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like, to have lost an older sibling, and even if he’d yet to meet this girl, the eldest Weasley felt his “Big Brother” instincts twitching. Then Carewyn approached him the following year for help with the Ice Vault, and Bill honestly breathed a sigh of relief. Charlie had said she seemed okay even after what had happened to her brother when Bill had asked him, but Bill was still relieved to see that that did indeed seem to be the case. The young red-haired Slytherin may have been tiny and perhaps a little insecure and soft-spoken, but her eyes blazed with determination, and when they dueled, Carewyn showed immense courage, even managing to win their duel by chucking a potion bottle at Bill’s head and then using the distraction to Disarm him. It was in that moment that Bill decided -- he was going to look after this girl. And so he did everything he possibly could to help her with her quest to break the spells on the Cursed Vaults and save her brother Jacob.

Stage II: Surrogate Big Brother and Little Sister. As the years went by, Bill and Carewyn dealt with the Cursed Vaults together with their other friends and got to know each other better, and Bill soon came to see and treat Carewyn like family. Bill cheered both Charlie and Carewyn on in Quidditch friendlies. Bill even invited Carewyn over for Christmas at the Burrow one year. It soon got to the point that Bill almost filled the role in Carewyn’s life that Jacob once had, in the way that they were rarely seen apart -- and yet, even with that, Carewyn never trusted Bill with all of her flaws and insecurities the way she had Jacob. She never trusted anyone that much. As Carewyn got older and the maturity gap decreased, Bill found himself leaning on Carewyn in a way he never really had anyone else, as well as found Carewyn herself answering his emotional needs by looking after him just as much if not more than he looked out for her, just like she did the rest of their friends. Carewyn counseled him about his crush on Emily Tyler. She offered a listening ear and good advice when he was down. She surprised him with meaningful Christmas gifts and sang songs to cheer him up. Their friends had started teasing the two by calling them the “Papa Bear” and “Mama Bear” of their friend group, and even Bill had to admit, they really weren’t on the uneven footing they’d been on before. After all...Carewyn really supported him a lot more than she ever let him support her anymore...

Stage III: Equals. By the time Bill reached his seventh year, Carewyn had really come into her own as a strong, determined young woman with a brave, compassionate heart and an unbreakable spirit. Despite the two year age gap, Carewyn had more than proven herself Bill’s peer, not just on the dueling field but in leading and protecting others. Bill was proud of how much his friend had grown and truly respected her as a person, but he couldn’t help but notice -- now that they were on equal footing -- just how much Carewyn didn’t trust him or the rest of their friends, even after everything they’d gone through together. Even when she clearly cared so much about him, Charlie, and the rest, she absolutely refused to let them into her heart or help her with her emotional needs. Still Bill was patient and was prepared to let Carewyn open up when she was ready, even after Charlie blew up at her for keeping so much from them and Ben and Merula stubbornly refused to let her just go off by herself without telling anyone. After Rowan’s death, however, Carewyn disappeared for a full 24 hours. When Bill found out, he immediately dropped his Cursebreaking assignment and rushed back to the school to help the others look for her. When she finally emerged after being found by Duncan, Bill fell to pieces, tearing into Carewyn about how he knew full well that “she was a liar,” that she “always lies,” but that it was “only because of how much she cared,” and berating her for being so stubborn that only Rowan’s death could finally make her open up to her friends and trust them with how she felt. Bill was crying the entire time, which wasn’t much of a surprise -- Carewyn crying too, however, took everyone aback. And it was as the two sat on the floor hugging each other and sobbing, right before Charlie and Ben both also descended on Carewyn and Merula hugged herself on the sidelines, that the wall between Bill and Carewyn was finally torn down.

Stage IV: Best Friends Forever. From that point on, Bill and Carewyn saw each other as their best friend. Bill was Carewyn’s second-in-command in the Circle of Khanna, and when the two dueled side-by-side, they could stand toe-to-toe with just about any Dark wizard. After Carewyn joined the Ministry as a lawyer, Bill would pop down to watch her court cases from time to time, and whenever Bill wrote to Carewyn asking for help with an assignment for Gringotts, Carewyn would instantly drop whatever she was working on to help him, even though she’d never really wanted to be a Cursebreaker herself. The two also wrote to each other pretty much constantly and supported each other unconditionally. No one could deny that these two loved each other, even if it was only platonically.

In one universe, however, as mentioned...there were those who suspected that love was much more than just platonic.

Stage V: Lovers. (More under the cut, ‘cause this got long AF. >>; )

HPHM AU Ask!

It all started when Carewyn distanced herself from the Weasleys in 1995, just after the return of Lord Voldemort in the Little Hangleton graveyard. Carewyn came to the austere decision so as to help the Order, since she knew her position at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement could be helpful in the fight to come and her associating with the Weasleys or the staff of Hogwarts at all would give Fudge less reason to trust her. Even despite the logic of the rationale, the loss of his best friend and confidante, if only through not being able to speak or write to her, weighed very heavily on Bill. Carewyn had been one of only two people he’d ever felt he could really rely on for emotional support (the other being Charlie), and she was easily the one he did so most, since she was always so prompt in her written responses and always seemed to know exactly what he needed. Her absence left a hole in Bill’s heart and life, which was soon filled by his new associate at Gringotts, Fleur Delacour. Fleur was very taken with Bill, and soon enough Bill felt romantic feelings budding in his heart for her as well. The two started dating, and the relationship brought some real sunshine back to Bill’s life, even in the midst of the storm to come.

The advent of the Second Wizarding War prompted a lot of people to jump into marriage quickly, as it felt like any day might be your last -- and so, within a year, Bill was all set to marry Fleur. He loved her very much, and she him...but everyone else in the Weasley family was a bit less sure about the prospect, especially Mrs. Weasley and Ginny. But in this universe, it wasn’t just because they didn’t like Fleur. Even Fleur herself was a little startled when Bill popped the question so quickly. But Bill loved Fleur and, he thought, the War would be less scary if he knew she was by his side. Not long after he popped the question, Voldemort’s return was finally made public, and Bill saw his chance to finally -- FINALLY -- be able to see Carewyn again at the Ministry, after she dealt with Fudge’s Educational Decree #23 in court. The two met covertly in Carewyn’s office for the first time in over a year, both almost beside themselves with how happy they were to see each other. Bill and Carewyn hugged for almost five whole minutes, laughing and babbling almost the entire time and squeezing each other in a vice grip. It was the happiest either Carewyn or Bill had been in months.

Bill had expected that his best friend might not wholly approve of his and Fleur’s engagement too. Carewyn, however, although she was taken aback, very quickly showed support. “She makes you happy, doesn’t she?” the lawyer asked through a beautiful, soft smile. “Well...that’s all I could ever want for you, Bill. I know how long you’ve wanted a family...if Fleur can give you that, and love you and care for you...then that’s all that matters.” Bill was encouraged by Carewyn’s words, and yet almost uncomfortable -- maybe he just wasn’t used to positive feedback to his engagement yet, he thought sheepishly. Nonetheless, after Carewyn said she was sure the ceremony would be beautiful and lamented that she probably wouldn’t get to see it, Bill fiercely insisted that Carewyn would have to be there: he refused to start such an important chapter of his life without her. His insistence on her being present did seem to affect Carewyn somehow -- Bill couldn’t quite place how, but she was smiling, at least.

After their meeting, however, Bill found himself a bit less certain than he had been previously. Seeing Carewyn again after so long really got him thinking about how much of a bedrock she’d really become in his life -- seeing her in the courtroom, recalling once again what a brilliant, noble woman she was, finally realizing how hard she’d really been fighting all that time they’d been apart, in complete silence...just like she always had, since they’d first met...it shook him slightly. When had she become so instrumental to him? When did the thought of her not being at his wedding become so terrifying that it made him not want to go down the aisle at all? When did them separating make him feel anguish, knowing that there was a good chance they’d never be reunited again? When had he...become so emotionally reliant on her...even more so than his own fiancee? These questions bothered Bill a lot. He pushed them away for the longest time, but still they persisted. Fleur could tell Bill was upset about something, and yet Bill was too ashamed to admit to her what was wrong. She at one point asked Bill if there was “someone else,” and Bill -- almost panic-stricken by the suggestion -- vehemently said no. Carewyn was his friend, his best friend! They’d been partners, yes, but not like that -- they’d been Papa Bear and Mama Bear at school, sure, but that was a joke! Carewyn was family -- she’d always been family. Not like Fleur soon would be...

That night, finally, Bill had to ask himself -- could he see Carewyn, the way he saw Fleur? Even if he wouldn’t choose Carewyn over Fleur...could Carewyn be someone he could see himself marrying and starting a family with? And at long, long last, Bill had to admit...he could. He could imagine it. He could imagine Carewyn being a wonderful mother -- cradling a red-haired, freckled baby in her arms and singing it a lullaby -- smiling at him with those ruby red lips as he came home -- trailing a hand through his hair as he kissed her. And Bill, his heart both swelling with joy and breaking in despair, knew he couldn’t marry Fleur while feeling so conflicted.

He finally opened up to Fleur about how he felt, leaving off Carewyn’s name the entire time...yet Fleur, insightful as ever, knew immediately who Bill was talking about. Although she was a bit hurt, she nonetheless maintained the utmost grace and suggested they break their engagement. “If after you’ve come to a dezision, your heart iz still mine,” she said gently, “zhen we can pick up where we’ve left off, Bill. And if it iz not...zhen I wish you every happiness.” Bill, still feeling incredibly ashamed of himself for rushing so fast into an engagement before he’d even taken the time to properly address his unexamined feelings for Carewyn, thanked Fleur for her support. She truly was a wonderful woman -- it was unsurprising that he’d grown to care for her so much.

Fleur and Bill didn’t have the chance to break the news to anyone about their wedding being put off before the Order was summoned to Hogwarts to protect it from the Death Eaters that had broken into the school with the help of Draco Malfoy. After the Battle of the Astronomy Tower, Bill got his face slashed up by Greyback and Mrs. Weasley finally accepted Fleur and her love for Bill, even with their engagement having been broken. Late that night, Carewyn received a letter from Tonks about Dumbledore’s death, Snape’s betrayal, and Bill’s injury and without hesitation she Apparated to Hogsmeade, turned into a robin, and flew the rest of the way to Hogwarts.

Carewyn found Bill sleeping restlessly in the Hospital Wing with nightmares. She used her Legilimency to enter Bill’s mind so she could soothe his nightmares of turning into a werewolf and killing everyone he loved and transform them into images of the Burrow, in anticipation for his wedding. But because Carewyn didn’t realize that Bill and Fleur had broken up earlier that day, she didn’t know that Bill wouldn’t have ever conjured up such a dream himself. And so when Carewyn tried to gently coax Bill to head down to the wedding pavilion over to Fleur, telling him that she’d catch up, Bill -- even though he was asleep -- sensed something was off. After a long moment of staring at Fleur’s lovely, smiling face among the crowd of his friends and family, he realized that however happy it was, it wasn’t what he wanted...and so, it wasn’t something he’d conjured up himself. It wasn’t his dream -- it was someone else’s dream for him. Within his dream, Bill turned to Carewyn, his brown eyes full of both love and pain, and said through a weak smile, “...Carey...as always...you lie because you care.”

Carewyn had not expected Bill to instantly force himself awake and -- within seconds -- bring up a hand to clutch Carewyn by the back of the head and hold her in place so he could place his scarred lips, slightly hampered by the bandages covering his face, to the side of her face. It was the first time Bill had ever kissed Carewyn, even if it wasn’t on the lips -- and over time, it would not be the last.