#which i did before the party planning fiasco

[asimmingpunsquared]

just spent an hour running around on a saturday morning like a chicken with my head cut off to get a cake and party food for my partner's birthday since i dropped the ball on planning it and it's today + i thought we could celebrate next weekend but then forgot that he has a huge thing at school all weekend AND might be going to his parents' house because his sister ran over his parent's dog and he needs to build a kennel for that dog (this is a whole story. the dog is okay though, just a little sore!) + the two weekends after that i am traveling internationally for MY school + then it will have been an entire month since his birthday elapsed. so i got a cake and party food to throw together something for either tonight or tomorrow depending on his friends' availability. and i also bought him a grill to make up for it (and have a place to do a barbecue algdkjsldgks). also i'm sweating like a pig because it's hot as FUCK in brazil right now

[purplecoffee13]

Nemesis with Benefits - Part 6

Summary: “Three weeks have passed, and the inevitable truth leads to some harsh conversations…”

Wc: 3.3k

Tropes: enemies-to-lovers

Warnings: ANGST big time, fighting, crying (my heart hurts)

A/N: hello… I finally finished the newest chapter and I immediately wanted to get it out so you can all read it. I am incredibly sorry that it took so long, and I am also sorry for the amount of sadness in this chapter… but it had to happen🥲

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It's been three weeks since you last saw Harry, and you feel terrible.

About what exactly? You're not sure. Dylan's sudden appearance. Harry just— walking out. What Harry and Dylan did to you. What you have been doing with Harry...

It seems that, just as the dust had started to settle, this tornado entirely threw you for a loop again. Finally getting to terms with your feelings and accepting the idea of a friendship with Harry, it all came crashing down the moment you spotted Dylan at that pool table.

You'd spent hours furiously scribbling in your notebook to understand the depths of this tricky situation you'd managed to work yourself into, but you haven't found a logical solution or explanation for any of it.

Only that Dylan is a total dick, that is.

You had to admit that you needed some time to come down from the shock and bottled up feelings that had exploded right in front of your face. But by the end of the week, you were ready to find Harry and talk about this. What that conversation would lead to, you had no idea, but speaking to him was vital.

And apparently impossible.

He wouldn’t respond to your texts, nor your calls when you eventually decided to give calling him a try. When you'd finally mustered up the courage to sneakily ask Benjamin about Harry's whereabouts, you were smacked in the face with the news that Harry had left.

He'd gone home to England to visit his family, Benjamin said. When you'd asked whether it had to do anything with the Dylan fiasco, Benjamin had shrugged and said that Harry did visit his family every single year. But he also mentioned he went a bit earlier than planned, so he thought the other night might have had a little bit to do with it.

Planned or not planned, it left you with a lot of confusion and doubt for the next two weeks, one of which you spent in your own hometown, trying to enjoy spring break as much as you could with a broken heart and an occupied mind.

You hadn't returned to your college town yet when Harry finally did, and you were bummed about not being able to talk to him. Rebecca and Benjamin were going to a party Harry was throwing so you guessed you'd hear about his state when you got back.

It would've be a bit embarrassing to admit, but it's one of the reasons you caught an earlier train this morning. You texted Rebecca, telling her you’d back sooner than planned. but you hadn't heard from her so far. While you'd thought it was a little weird, you figured you'd see her this evening anyway.

You didn't expect her to be at your front door.

A smile creeps onto your face as you neared her, leaving your luggage to the side as you open your arms for a hug, but Rebecca just stands there, arms crossed. Quirking up a brow, you ask:

"Hey, are you okay?"

A few seconds pass before she responds.

"We need to talk."

Absolute, utter dread fills your entire body as you nod, grabbing your suitcase. "What is it about? Do you want to go upstairs?"

Rebecca doesn't answer your question, she only nods in response to your second. You are quick to unlock my door and walk towards my apartment with her. The elevator ride is silent and excruciating, and when you've finally entered your living room, you're quick to ask away.

"Okay, what's going on?" Your question sounds almost irritated, which in hindsight doesn't seem very smart because it only seems to tick Rebecca off. What is going on with her?

"Harry threw a little get together yesterday," Your friend sighs, crossing her arms. "and I couldn't help but notice the familiarity of his home address when he sent it to us."

Your face pales. Oh my god, you are going to throw up. This cannot possibly be happening right now. Rebecca notices your instant change in the demeanor, her own growing angry. You take a few steps back and sit down on the couch.

"You slept with him, after what he did to you?! How could you do that?!"

You are at a loss of words, despite having thought about how you were going to break this news to her one day. "I— I don't know, I don't know..."

"What do you mean you don't know? You slept with the guy your boyfriend cheated on you with! God, have you no self-respect?!"

Her words hit you like a slap in the face, and as the tears roll down your cheeks, you begin to shake your head.

"Rebecca— I..."

"No, listen, Y/N. For months, Benjamin and I have been walking on eggshells, trying so hard to make sure you're comfortable. Benjamin even punched Harry, for Christ's sake. Do you even know that?"

You nod slowly, the guilt that has been tightening around your throat settling in your stomach as well.

"I'm sorry..." You peep, looking down at the floor. Meeting Rebecca's eyes is too terrifying at the moment. You can't handle that right now.

"God... why him? You don't even like him." Rebecca goes on, and the tears prickling in your eyes turn into full blown sobs as soon as the words have left her mouth. With your hands buried in your face, you don't see your friend sitting next to you, but you feel her rubbing your back.

"Shit... you like him, don't you?" She concludes, and your crying only increases at hearing that confession fall from another person's lips. This is the most complicated thing you have ever experienced. It takes a minute or so to finally manage to control your tears, and have calmed down enough to respond.

"I don't know how this happened." You confess between your sobs. "I didn't— I wasn't supposed to!"

"Hey, calm down." Rebecca pulls you closer to her, and you continue crying in her lap. "Everyone has at least one person they weren't— supposed to sleep with."

You pull yourself up, wiping away your tears as you shake your head. "I meant, I wasn't supposed to care about him. Sleeping with him was a choice I made, and I don't regret it because it was a distraction, and it worked. But it only worked because I hated him. I wasn't supposed to start... caring."

"Sweets, being that intimate with someone will leave you with no other option than to care for them, at least at some point." Rebecca reminds you. Your gaze is fixated on the ground, all these truths flying through your scrambled mind. You let out a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry." You finally say, and another tear slips down your cheek as Rebecca strokes your hair.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made that comment about self worth, that was uncalled for, and mean. I was just angry, but that's no excuse."

You look at your friend, whose eyes also seem to be blurry, and conjure a faint smile. "You're forgiven."

Rebecca pulls you into a tight hug, and it takes her a full minute before you finally get her to agree to let go. When she does, she immediately stands up and grabs a glass of water for the both of you while you wipe your smudged mascara away with a tissue.

"So, what are you going to do about it?" She asks when she sits down, handing you the glass. You shrug before taking a large gulp of the water before setting it back on the table.

"I have no idea."

Rebecca leans back into the couch, eyeing you for a couple of seconds before speaking up. "Can I be really honest here?"

You're careful to look your friend in the eyes, her bluntness scaring you sometimes, but you nod anyway.

"I think you two are a pretty good match— you know, if you wouldn't count all the shit that happened of course. I was actually surprised when you went out with Dylan instead of Harry in the beginning. I thought Harry was a much better fit for you.” She tells you, and your brow quirks up at her words. You didn't expect her to go down this route. “You're just... compatible, you know? Plus, I was convinced he liked you."

"Rebecca, he hated me from the start." You scoff, but she shakes her head intently.

"No I know, but I swear, he asked about you before that party where you met him and Dylan. I thought he was interested in you."

By now, you have your hands buried in your hair as you listen to all this new information that you are being fed by your friend. This is way too confusing and it's making your headache even worse.

"But then you told me he was being rude, so I just brushed it off as a lapse of judgment from my side. Of course now we know he was acting like an asshole to you because of Dylan—which I still think is a dick move, by the way." Rebecca rants on. The weight on your chest that had seemed to have subsided for a minute has grown in size again.

"My point is, your relationship with Harry has been a wreck from the start, and the main cause for that is Dylan. So if you can't get over the Dylan situation, it's probably going to be impossible to ever build a lasting relationship with Harry."

Rebecca's words ring in your ears. It's a revelation that has been looming in your mind for a bit now. There was a part of you that knew this was an extremely complicated situation and therefore didn't want to tackle it, as a possible solution seemed to be non-existent. You've hit a wall in your relationship—if it even can be called that—with Harry, and if you really want to move forward, you'll have to climb over that wall and hope Harry will take your hand and come along.

You sigh, your tired eyes meeting Rebecca's. "You're right."

************************************************

It's been about an hour since Rebecca left and you've been pacing your living room ever since, devising a plan on how to talk to Harry. What to say to him, how to say it, and with what outcome in mind.

A knock on the door relieves your from your taunting thoughts for a moment, but opening your door throws you for an entirely different loop as you find Harry standing across from you.

He looks worn out. The dark circles under his eyes aren't extremely prominent but the sole fact that they're there tells you enough. He also appears to be in gym clothes, which makes you wonder whether this trip to your apartment was planned or not.

"Hey." He croaks out, his eyes flicking up and down your face and body, calculating any reaction that might come from you.

"Hi." You respond breathlessly. Neither of you say another word—you spend most of the silent minute staring at him—until Harry finally clears his throat.

"Can I— uh..." his finger points towards your living room, and before you know it, you step aside. He enters your apartment, following you as you head for your couch.

Another dreadful silence follows as the both of you sit next to each other, waiting for the other one to break first. It's excruciating and it feels like it goes on forever. You don't realize you're picking at your nail beds until Harry's voice takes you out of your dissociative trance.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" You scan his face, squinting your eyes a bit. There is something unsettling about his demeanor. It's so passive, at least it seems.

"For just leaving like that." He meets your eyes, and you notice the guilt displayed in them. Not knowing what to say, you refrain from answering as you think of everything that has happened. When you finally do open your mouth, Harry's focus on you is so intense that it makes you a bit nervous, the weight of your words becoming much heavier now that you know Harry will be hanging onto your every single one.

"You really hated me, you know. And it wasn't just because of Dylan. You despised me, always did, and I never understood why."

You watch as his eyes turn glassy and he shakes his head, softly whispering 'no' over and over again. Your brows crease at his attempt at—what seems to you—denial. He can't oppose that he hated you. He has literally said it multiple times.

"Don't pretend that you didn't Harry, I know you did."

"No, that's not—" he protests.

"Then what is it?” The questions falls off your tongue in a hurry, the frustration that has been bottled up inside of you slowly beginning to unleash. "The other night, right before spring break, I really thought we were on our way to becoming friends. I felt like it was actually possible. And then you just— left. One glimpse of him and you were gone.”

You take a deep breath before continuing. “It's been eating at me for the past three weeks that you just walked out and began ignoring me. So please, Harry, clarify it for me because I don’t understand any of this.”

Harry hangs his head and sighs. “It's complicated. And stupid... and probably doesn't make any sense."

"Then make sense of it." You command, leaning forward so he is forced to meet your eyes. He holds your gaze for a few seconds, then nods, a small frown on his face as he figures out what he wants to say. You try not to hold your breath as you wait for him to start, but you find yourself doing it anyway as soon as he starts speaking.

"I, uh— I'd liked Dylan for quite some time, and he knew that. He led me on for a long time, and I was trying to get over him, but it just felt like it was impossible, you know?" He explains, picking at the skin on his fingers out of nervous habit. You hum, telling him you understand without actually interrupting him. He continues.

"So, one day I was walking out of class and I ran into Rebecca. She was with you and some other girls, and you were all waiting for her while she was talking to me. I remember seeing you, and I thought you were very pretty, which was special to me because I hadn't felt so intrigued by someone in a long time."

Your heartbeat becomes more prominent, and suddenly you can feel it beating loudly as he speaks. You fiddle with your sweaty hands. He was intrigued by you? The nerves swerve through your stomach, not being able to make sense of what Harry is saying just yet. It’s contradicting everything you’ve known about Harry’s feelings towards you since you met him. But Rebecca’s words hang in the back of your head, and there is a wave of anticipation that almost overwhelms you: the anticipation that Rebecca might be right. Harry clears his throat.

“So anyways, I asked Rebecca about you and she told me you'd come to the party. Later, I was kind of— stalking you on Instagram, and Dylan saw. He teased me about it. Suddenly he started to give me loads of attention again. And I thought maybe he was jealous, and he had realized that he liked me, and this was finally the moment that it would all work out.” He says with a certain bitterness, not necessarily aimed at anyone but himself. As if he is mad at himself for those past rose-tinted thoughts he had regarding Dylan. “But then he got together with you at the party a couple days late, and I was just... so angry."

Harry’s eyes become glassy, and you feel your heart crack. After your break-up with Dylan it became clear how much effect he had on Harry. Now knowing the history, the constant push and pull, you don’t find it weird. Harry had allowed him inside his heart time and time again, all the while Dylan would just figure out how to play at his heartstrings. Just enough to keep him coming back everything single time, hoping something had changed.

“It felt like he wasn't allowing me to get over him. I had finally met someone who made me realize that maybe the first stages of like— love and dating shouldn't feel like your heart is constantly being ripped from your chest. That it could be innocent and fun. And it felt as if he was mocking me for it, by going after that hope and taking it away.”

He looks at you, and you give him a weak, sympathetic smile, swallowing away the physical pain you get from hearing about Harry’s emotional pain. Caring so deeply can be the most euphoric thing, but it’ll come back to bite you in the ass when the person you care about is hurting. You realize then, in that moment, how thin the line between a blessing and a curse is.

But when your hand finds his and you intertwine your fingers, you figure it’s more of a blessing anyway.

“And I just— I don't want to spin it as if you were a piece of meat, because Dylan cared about you. I saw that, and I hated it because I used to wish it was me. It made me be a dick to you, and I’m really fucking sorry about that, because you didn’t deserve that at all. If I could take all of that back then I would.”

He sighs as soon as all the ramblings of words have left his mouth, and you feel the weight of that sigh. His body tells you it as well: he’s relieved. Initially, you find yourself at a loss of words, and the only thing that your mind can generate as a response escapes before you can stop yourself.

“Well, if you take it all back then we bever would’ve have had such mind-blowing sex, right?” You blurt out, and Harry chuckles at your stupid joke. You laugh along as you try to scramble together a real answer, stroking his hand with your thumb.

“I’m sorry Dylan used you like that, I can only imagine how frustrating that is. And while I agree you should’ve never been so grumpy to me, I can’t say that I haven’t acted rude out of jealousy before.” You say earnestly, the thought of that night at the bar popping inside your head. You weren’t exactly nice to that girl Harry was talking to either. In fact, you didn’t acknowledge her at all.

“Rebecca said we need to get over the Dylan situation if we ever want to build any sort of relationship whatsoever. We need to forgive each other and move past it, otherwise we can never be— friends.” Your cheeks heat up at your quick save. It’s quiet between the two of you, but his grip on your hand doesn’t loosen the slightest bit. Harry is staring at his lap, making it difficult for you to read what he’s thinking. He raises his head to meet your eyes, and when you are met with the sight of a tear rolling down his cheek, your own vision blurs instantly.

"How can I forgive you for something you never did?"

The hopelessness of his question smashes your heart into a thousand pieces. You are quite sure you physically hear it crack. The broken pieces pierce into every part of your body, including your throat, that feels too heavy as you gather strength to answer him. Your breath hitches the first time you try to get some words out and fail, so your voice wavers when you manage to speak.

“I don’t know...”

Taglist: @hisparentsgaleryy @love-letters-to-uranus @moonwitttch19 @notmeherelol173 @fairytale07 @valuunit

[merlinssassybeard]

'Ex' husband Gojo - You and I

Part 1

Tags- Gojo x fem reader, angst, self depreciation/suicidal stuff, miscarriage centered chapter

Synopsis- a look at both of their POVs, the aftermath a month later.

Satoru is devastated but so are you but worse...

22nd October, 2016...

22nd October of 2016 was when it happened. The Legal Separation between you and Satoru Gojo.

Fortunately or not but the whole fiasco never went outside the borders of The Gojo Estate, despite it involving a few 'third parties'.

Luckily, the servants of the house were on a week off or else by now you and Satoru would have become the new gossip of the town no doubt.

Mr Ijichi, an assistant director at the Jujutsu High and a very close and trusted accomplice of your husband... or ex husband, you can't decide.

He is probably the only person who knows about it, not in detail of course since Satoru is very specific on who he wants to be close with but yes, you suspect Mr Ijichi is a bit aware of what went down because he was the one driving the car on that day.

You also suspected at first that maybe Ms Shoko is also in light of the events because she is definitely someone who gets her information one way or the other and the fact Satoru might have... no! He has infact told Shoko about all of it.

When Satoru introduced you to the World of Jujutsu Society, Ms Shoko was the first he got you to meet with and since you have had good relationship with her.

Since your legal separation happened, Shoko and Ijichi have been a mediator, set up by Gojo, for communication since, you know it and so does everybody who knows Gojo Satoru, he's too prideful to go back wagging his tail where he's not needed. Or so he thinks.

Satoru thinks because of his work schedules, he is not able to spend time with you as your husband and not able give you the life you hoped for which definitely affected your mental health (as predicted by his six eyes) and thus you decided for a divorce.

But the new information that he got on that day from you made him realize maybe he was indeed wrong thinking that you are perhaps different from other women who only fell for the looks but mostly for the money and the status of the Gojo family in general.

He never had plans to marry in the Jujutsu Society or The human World (haha as if!) be it arranged or love. He did not care. He had plans to become the wise Sage or a Monk of wisdom, a teacher/mentor like in video games. But all of it changed when he met you, a simple average human.

You were the one who taught Satoru so much. You were the one made him realize that even the strongest sorcerer has a soft heart that has the capability of falling in love.

But what made him solidify his love, making him realize that yes he has fallen in love and he is glad it is you was when you (unknowing about his past with the incident with Riko and Toji) made him realize the fact that all humans are not same.

This was the last and final straw that made the fall for you really bad and sick. He wanted to marry you. But he never said it out loud because of the repercussions you would have to go through and that is why he protested as well when you brought up the topic of marriage.

But none of it matters

None of it

Not anymore

He is done

All humans are the same.

Greed

Lust

Money

Fame

Power

All humans are indeed the same...

Satoru has no interest in any sort of relationships anymore. Everything feels sour and bitter. All he knows now is his role. His role as the strongest sorcerer, a responsible mentor, as the Head of his Clan, Face of the Jujutsu Society altogether. These are his priorities.

Gojo would very much prefer a permanent sort of freedom from you now knowing your true face.

'Ugh awful, so disgusting. A whore? Really? Is that all you thought of yourself y/n when you voluntarily got physical with me before marriage?', he said to himself in his head.

The only reason Gojo sent Separation papers instead of divorce was because it would startle both of yours and his families. The society isn't kind to divorced women and that too the ex wife of the six eyes sorcerer. Oh what a wonderful way to make him vulnerable for the curses and curse users!

He can say whatever he want against you but somewhere, inside that beautiful big and kind heart of his, he wants to talk to you, talk things out, talk about your feelings and wants to listen. But his mind refuses to let down his walls, ever gain!

Days following the 22nd October, you mostly stayed locked up in your room while Mr Ijichi packed all of your husband's clothing and accessories.

Mr Ijichi isn't stupid, he knew it must be really hard for you that is why he tried his best to enter, collect the things and exit as quietly as he could.

'A whore? Why did you even say that you bitch. You really don't deserve ANYTHING in this world!', your days began with endless self loathing.

5th December, 2016

A lot happened in the month following the incident.

Most of your days were spent in self loathing because after your miscarriage at just 3 months, the doctor had declared that you're (uterus) not strong enough to carry a child.

These words are something a woman is most scared to ever hear in her life. And you were one of the unfortunates.

You had stopped taking your post miscarriage medications. You're mental health got worse as well due to continuous thoughts on how you acted up on impulses and ruined the only good thing you had. Days followed you couldn't even get the strength to get up from the bed every morning. Fading appetite lead to refusing food which further resulted to visible sunken cheeks.

The house staff didn't knew anything that took place during their week off and they had noticed changes around the household. From your behavior to the absence of the Head of the house. They were also worried for your health and didn't knew what to do.

The head of staff, Mr Kawaguchi, decided to make a call to the Master of the house since it is normal for him to be absent from the house due to his work.

Kawaguchi- Good morning Satoru sama. This is Kawaguchi from the house.

Gojo (a little annoyed)- I'm busy, call me later.

Kawaguchi- Sir actually there's a grave problem at the house.

Gojo (mockingly)- what? Did someone die or something? This better be important-

Kawaguchi- sir its Y/n sama. Y/n sama is not in good health.

Gojo (worried)- w- what?! What're you stupids doing? What happened to y/n? Is she okay? What did the doctors say?

Kawaguchi- uh about that sir... y/n sama didn't let us into her room and actually we had to... (nervously looks back at the the other staff, everyone nods)

Gojo- huh?

Kawaguchi- sir, we had to break into y/n sama's room. We have called the doctors and they'll-

Gojo- break into the room!? What is hap- Nevermind, I'm sending someone. You lot stay there and look after y/n till the docs arrive!

Kawaguchi- y- yes sir!

Gojo was now left worried at what the hell did he just hear on the call. 'What are you upto now y/n'. Is this some trick to bring him back out of pity and pretend nothing happened? That you, a month ago, didn't just randomly demand for a Divorce.

He was really annoyed and even if he wanted to go to the house he couldn't due to being out abroad for missions. He has been busy with overseas missions mostly after the separation.

He decided to send Shoko for a look and to inform him 'EVERY SINGLE DETAIL', verbatim.

Shoko was sitting at the morgue, smoking, when she received a call from Gojo.

'Ha? Gojo? At this hour?', she wondered.

"Yea?", Shoko said with her usual nonchalant voice.

"I need a favor"

Gojo explained her the situation to which she agreed without hesitant, knowing what has been going on between you two and now this.

When she arrived at the Gojo Estate, she was welcomed by the worried faces of the staff that guided her to your room.

She started observing every detail. She saw the entrance door, broken. The inside of the master bedroom, dim, even with long sliding doors facing the beautiful and bright gardens. There were half eaten bowls of food. A trolley with clothes overflowing.

Shoko turned to looked at you and felt her heart wrench a little at the sight of you. She was horrified and worried. She is usually a very calm and relaxed person but you, you really made her loose her calm.

She knows you and has seen you in your good days. In light yellow summer dress beside Gojo, all smiles to now? Like this. Dark circles umder eyes and slight sunken cheeks, chipped lips and several medications.... wait what medications?

There were already a doctor present in the room who declared that its just dehydration and that it'll be okay with a few medicines.

The servants thanked the doctor and ordered the medicines.

Meanwhile, Shoko was already in a shock. The medicines piled up beside you on the bed and the bedside table were... post miscarriage pills. She enquired the whole situation from the staff.

All while, the two women staff got you up in the bed and gave you water.

Eyes half open, you recognised what was happening. You passed out of dehydration and couldn't hear the knocks of the servants outside for breakfast. They were worried and tried the other doors, through the garden, but they were locked. So they broke the entrance and found still in the bed with pills surrounding you. They all got worried and one called the doctor and the head called Gojo.

Shoko noticed you were up and ordered the ladies to open the curtains and windows and leave her for a while. Afterall she's got some questioning to do in Gojo's behalf.

She extended her hand to hold your left hand. It seemed cold to touch. "Hello y/n. Remember me?"

You struggled to open your eyes and look.

"Don't worry i won't ask you how you're doing", she joked.

"But i will ask about the medications y/n. Do not lie. I'm a doctor too", Shoko knew now is not the time but she also knew that if you were pregnant then why didn't you tell Gojo because he obviously didn't know.

Your ears started ringing. And eyes welled up. You were reminded of it again. You wanted to just lay back down and bury yourself in the warmth of the blankets.

But the cat was out of the bag. Shoko is a doctor. She knows medicines. You cannot lie. You cannot hide. You have to be strong, you have to show her that everything is okay and Satoru needn't be worried, not like as if he is anyway.

"Please.", you mumbled, she had leaned in and caressed your knuckles. "Shoko, do not let anyone know of this, i beg of you."

"Shhh", she shushed you, "Don't say that. I won't. I promise"

She continued, "... but what about Satoru? You can't hide it from him. The child was his as much as it was yours-"

You cut her in, "Shoko i wanted to tell him! I wanted him and only HIM to be the first to get the news of the...", you struggled but continued, "...of the pregnancy. I got to know myself in the 2nd month and he was coming back home just next month, it was all perfectly going... until it wasn't".

Shoko was visibly upset. She didn't knew what to say. All she was aware of was the things Gojo told her...

He went home with gifts and souvenirs for you, you gave him divorce papers, he tried convince you not to, you weren't ready to listen, you said some hurtful things, he realised his place and agreed for separation over divorce.

Looking at you she can tell you would breakdown any moment.

And she was right.

You did.

You broke down in tears.

Hyperventilating you mumbled, "Shoko they said i can't have children! Can you believe that! I can't have kids! And I'm so stupid i brought out a f-fucking Divorce paper when Satoru came home."

"He was so angry with me i could feel it even if he wasn't! I'm stuck Shoko! I-i just - just want to go hide under a rock or maybe i should just kill mys-"

Shoko pulled you in for a hug. "Ah! Thats enough. That's enough. Shush now. Its okay."

"I won't tell Satoru, don't worry"

Series masterlist

Tags:

@autumn-slaves @wondermilka @hh0pe @chayunwoo @Enaaneaen @sweet-almonds @sindela @dazai-gojo-kinnie @whats-humanity-lol @thewickedofrizz @phantasmia @ghostllyyz @yihona-san06 @aesonsgirl @direwolf-5 @fairyyxsp @puroganggang @altyx @dianagracesworld @hermitkerm @leonesimp @minnerra @whitelittlebunny @letharue

[khristie16]

Blindfolded Desires

about: Charles can't resist you any longer, and your party takes an unexpected turn into a dark closet warnings: cnc, fingering, humiliation, tie up Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

“WHAT??!!” You watched your best friend with a mix of confusion and embarrassment. You never thought those feelings could coexist, but they did. After yesterday's fiasco, you bid farewell to Nicole and headed back to your dorm. Your plan? Forget about everything, bury your nose in books, and let your problems sort themselves out.

“I’m sorry YN. He really had his eyes open. And you looked so… eager. It was weird to look at that.”

Frustrated, you sat on the couch in your shared room, holding your head in your hands. This situation was worse than you could have imagined. Your arch-nemesis had left you feeling eager for him while he remained unbothered.

“It was a setup. He did it to make fun of me again!” You reclined on the couch, gazing up at the ceiling, searching for solace.

Realizing it was nearly time for your first class, you hastily reached for your phone. “I'm so sorry, YN. I'll never ask you to come to another one of these ridiculous parties with me,” Nicole said.

You exhaled, torn between frustration and laughter, feeling like a complete mess. “Yeah, I'm never going near him again.” However, it seemed your worst enemy had different plans.

As you walked down the corridor, your gaze fixed on the ground as you passed strangers, someone unexpectedly grabbed your attention.

“Hey,” a guy said in a high-pitched voice, nearly causing you to back away. You tried to place his face as he stood there smiling at you. He seemed familiar.

“I’m Stephan. I was at the party yesterday.” Perplexed, you kept your cool and replied with chilly reserve,

“Oh, hi.” You expected the worst, but his next words caught you off guard.

“I'm sorry for yesterday. My cousin can be a pain in the ass sometimes.” Scrutinising the differences between them, you scrunched your eyebrows. They didn't look alike.

Seemingly attuned to your thoughts, he smiled and said, “Yeah, I know.”

Your tension eased a bit, and you sighed quietly. “Yeah, sorry, but I have a class in a minute, so I've got to go.”

You tried to sound apologetic and gave him a simple smile. You appeared reserved, not unfriendly. “Yeah, sorry. I could catch up with you later, if you don't mind,” he said shyly. You just smiled and waved before continuing on your way.

As you turned the corner, you overheard a deep, slightly angry voice that you didn't want to hear. You hadn't encountered him at school until now, but things were different. He either had a strange interest in you or wanted to make fun of you again, and you weren't sure which was worse.

“Getting your claws into another virgin?” You abruptly confronted him, staring into his eyes. “One more word, Leclerc, and I'll teach you not to mess with me.”

He laughed, his dimples deepening. “Yeah, you're going to teach me how to fuck?” “Maybe,” you retorted, “because those bimbos you have can't tell you that you pretty much suck at it.”

His expression darkened, and he contemplated grabbing you by the neck, but instead, he stood taller and spoke from above.

“Careful, jolie. You should watch your mouth.” Your gaze flared with anger as both of you breathed heavily. A sudden clap of thunder broke the tension between you and Charles as you walked away, leaving your scent behind, something he longed to bathe in.

A few days passed, and you were preparing for another party, a Halloween one. You didn't want to dress provocatively, so you considered going as the Grinch. However, your best friend Nicole disapproved, saying, “You cannot be serious.” Rolling your eyes, you explained that you had no interest in showing off your body just because everyone else did. Nicole understood but suggested you choose a different character or actor to dress up as.

The next evening, you walked beside Nicole and her boyfriend, all dressed up as you reached the main entrance of a big hall where the music resonated through the walls. At that moment, you were second-guessing your decision to attend the party.

“Oh, come on, YN, you'll have fun,” Nicole assured you. She was right; you just didn't know it yet.

“Pulp Fiction?” You turned to see Stephen, and you smiled and nodded as you observed his Dracula costume.

“You know, I almost thought I wouldn't see you tonight.” You chuckled in response and began to pour yourself a drink. Stephen promptly took your cup, saying he would do it. You appreciated the gesture and decided to strike up a conversation.

“Do you like Halloween?” you asked. “Not necessarily, but Charles wants me to socialize.”

As you talked, you felt someone's touch on your shoulder. “Nice outfit,” Charles said. You eyed him with arrogance, and he asked if you thought he was a CEO. "007," he clarified. You nodded, unimpressed, and turned away to go to the restroom.

“Wait,” he said, his hand on your bare arm, making you feel a burning sensation. “Dance with me.” You burst into laughter, “Go bully someone else.”

A few hours passed, and the alcohol had definitely taken its toll. The room spun as you danced on the parquet floor with strangers, having lost sight of Nicole in the crowded venue. Numerous hands grasped at your waist, shifting around depending on opportunity. You were lost in the music, feeling it pulse through your entire body.

Suddenly, the music came to an abrupt stop, and you snapped back to sobriety in an instant. You quickly pulled away from the hands that had been holding you and made your way toward the exit. But as you approached it, something or someone grabbed you, and darkness enveloped your vision. And a hot body against you.

Your wrists were swiftly bound, and the sensation of a cold wall against your cheek intensified as the mysterious person spun you around. He held you firmly by your hair, and the pulsating music from outside surged back to full volume. His fingers trailed down your spine, gripping your buttocks with a determined force that caused a slight discomfort.

With a calculated move, he used his foot to part your legs and he went lower with his fingers to your core. He acted without hesitation, as if he were determined not to waste a single moment with you. He massaged your bud and you responded in arching your back toward his tight hot body. His skillful touch conveyed an intimate bliss of your desires, making you unable to contain your moans. He leaned in closer to capture every sound from your mouth and increased the pace of his movements. You were soaking wet it was all over his hand and getting down your thighs. The combination of alcohol and overwhelming sensations left you unable to think rationally. When he began to caress your breasts, you lost all control and climaxed, releasing your pleasure over his hand. All you could hear from him was a loud groan. As he helped you remove the belt from your wrists, he spoke to you,

“Desperate for my fingers as well, huh?” In that moment, you felt as if you could vanish into the ground, fully realizing the intensity of the situation.

[cherrycola27]

Till Death?

Pairing: Rooster x Reader, Hangman x Reader

Warnings: Major Character Death, language, PTSD, Physical and Domestic violence, pregnancy loss, Minors DNI. 18+

Previous Part

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...........................................

Part 4

You sat in the bathtub with your knees pulled up to your chest. The water around you was starting to turn cold, bubbles long dissipated, but you didn't care. You were numb. You had been this way for the past six weeks.

Six weeks. It had been six weeks since your fight with Rooster and Jake. Six weeks since Rooster's "lover" had shown up on your doorstep. Six weeks since your fight with Jake, where he had threatened to take your children from you. Six weeks since your crash and six weeks since you'd lost your child. A son that you would never get to meet. A brother that Nick would never know.

You hated Jake. It was his fault. You had gone to him looking for comfort, and instead, he chose to break your heart. He was the reason you were so empty inside.

Part of you hated Bradley, too. His hypocrisy cut you deeply, but he had been there for you. Well, been there as much as you would let him in. It's not that Jake wasn't trying. No, he had been persistent. But you could stand him. You couldn't bear the thought of looking at him.

He couldn't even see you in the hospital because he was too afraid to face you. Rooster had to be the one to tell you. The one to hold you when you mourned.

Bradley came in and helped you out of the tub. You were almost ready to graduate from physical therapy, but you still had a lot to work through with your therapist on a mental level.

After you were dressed and ready for bed, you went to read Nick a bedtime story. You held him until he fell asleep. You couldn't believe how fast he was growing up. He would be two in a few months. Which reminded you that you needed to start planning a birthday party for him.

You shuttered at the thought of it, thinking back to the fiasco that was his first birthday.

After he was asleep, you joined Rooster in bed. He pulled you close to him, tucking you under his chin. Something you had come to let him do after everything. You sigh before drifting into a dreamless sleep.

By the time Nick's second birthday rolled around, you were on better terms with Jake. You were friends, but you would never be back to the way it was. In public, it seemed that he and Rooster had settled their differences, but in private, it was always a competition between the two of them.

Their little back and forth drove you nuts, especially when it came to Nick. There had been many times when you would have to break up arguments between the two of them. Both of them were trying to be his father. Jake would always bring up that Rooster missed the first year of his life, and Rooster would counter that he was there now.

You were getting sick of it. The worst of it came, though, when Jake had once again brought up Rooster's absence, and Rooster had countered with quote, "At least I did kill my son." That ending with both of them having black eyes, you kicking Jake out of your house, and Rooster sleeping in the guest room for a week. Sometimes, it felt like you had three children instead of two.

Thankfully, you had great friends. One night, you were having girl talk with Phoenix and Bob. Both of them couldn't believe how well you were handling everything. "If I were you, I'd throw both of them away." Bob remarked, taking a sip of his wine.

"Bobby, I'd be lying if I told you I hadn't thought of packing up and taking Nick and just leaving and taking some time to find myself. I just get so aggravated with both of them. It's been a year, and I just wish they would grow up!" You confessed. Bob and Phoenix looked at you with sympathy.

"Please don't tell them I said that." You asked them. They both swore to keep your secret.

Moving on from them, you continued to go through the motions of life, and then a bomb was dropped.

Rooster was being deployed for a two month long mission. His first since returning. On the one hand, you were thankful for some space. But on the other, you were worried about him, because you cared about him.

Later, you discovered that he, Payback, Fanboy, and Coyote would all be on the mission. Phoenix, Bob, and Jake were not a part of it. It made you happy to know that you would have some of your support group with you. But you also worried about how you and Jake would interact with each other.

Soon, the day you were dreading came. It was a Thursday evening, and Rooster was shipping out early Friday morning. Everyone on the mission had been ordered to stay in the barracks. He had been training all day, and you had brought Nick with you to see him off. You were paitenly waiting your turn to come onto base.

When it was your turn, you handed the attending officer your ID. Only, he didn't raise the gate or give it back to you.

"Is there a problem?" You asked him.

"Ma'am, when I scanned your ID, it says it's invalid." He explained.

"I'm sorry, what? How is that possible?" You asked.

"It says you don't have a sponsor." He told you.

"What do you mean? I'm married to Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. He's my sponsor." You told him, voice pitching up with agitation.

"I'm not sure, ma'am. I'm just looking at what the computer is telling me. Is there any way you can call him to come down here, and we can take this to get cleared up?" He said.

You huffed and dialed Rooster, but you figured he was probably flying or in a briefing. Finally, after five minutes of trying and several angry people later, you broke down and called Jake. He immediately came to help you get on base.

After explaining the situation to him, he was able to get you and Rooster an appointment to get your ID straightened out. The only downside to this was that he had to stay with you since you were his "guest"

Over an hour later, the three of you plus Nick were crammed in an office trying to get to the bottom of the issues.

"Well, it seems that the main cause of the issue is that you are Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw are technically no longer legally married." The woman working with you explains.

"What?" You all shout in unison.

"Well, there are three ways for a marriage to end. Annulment, divorce, or death. So, when Rooster was declared legally deceased, that meant legally, your marriage was over." She explained

"But, I'm very much alive ma'am so wouldn't that, I don't know, cancel it out?" Rooster asks.

"You would think, but unfortunately, no. The law is a very strange thing." She continues.

"But I haven't had any issues before! Why is all this happening now?" You huff out.

"Well, it takes time for everything to process, and it finally caught up with our system. I know it's awful." She tells you.

"So if we aren't married anymore, what does that mean for me?" You press her.

"Well, you'd lose your benefits, unfortunately." She states.

"My health insurance, my home? What about my son?" You're on the verge of tears.

"Your son would still have his. Rooster's situation doesn't affect him as much as it does, you dear." The woman is trying to be helpful. You know she is just doing her job, but you really don't like her right now.

"Well, what are we supposed to do?" You yell at her.

You immediately feel bad for doing so. This isn't her fault. "I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't mean to yell. I'm just—frustrated." You sigh and sink back into the chair. Rooster strokes your hand while Jake is keeping Nick occupied.

Jake feels bad for you. This really isn't fair. But at the same time, he feels almost happy—hopeful maybe, that you and Rooster technically aren't married. Maybe he could still have a chance.

"Well, the two of you could always get married again. It would solve the issue." The woman tells you.

"How are we supposed to do that before he gets deployed?" You asks her.

"Well, we could call a Chaplin, and they could marry you today." The woman says confidentiality.

"Ma'am, there's only one problem with that, it's 5:30pm, city hall is closed, we can't get a marriage license." Rooster tells her.

"The two of you could go first thing in the morning. I can help you make an appointment online right now." She tells you, trying to be helpful.

"That won't work either. Rooster is being deployed tomorrow morning at six. He will be gone for two months. We can't— I can't go that long without my benefits and my ID. Especially without our separation pay. How am I supposed to take care of my son?" You finally break down crying. All of the stress from everything you've gone through, finally catching up with you.

Rooster tries to soothe you. Nick leaps from Jake's lap to come hug you. The woman hands you some tissues and tries to apologize.

It takes you a few minutes to compose yourself.

"Well, I can always check and see if we can make an exception for your special circumstance." She says furiously typing on her computer.

You thank her, but you know all of her efforts are in vain. You could always ask Penny for a job, and if you really had to, you could stay with your parents for a few weeks. You sighed. You felt like the world was against you once again. Rooster continued to talk with the woman as they tried to find a solution.

You were lost in your thoughts when you felt one of Jake's hands come rest on your shoulder.

"I think I have an idea. Something that might be able to solve the problem for now." He said. You, Rooster, and the ID specialist all looked at him with curious eyes.

"I'm not going on this deployment." Jake began.

"So, Honey, what if you married me."

Alright loves, I thought I would give you a break from the super crazy trauma. I know I've been putting you through the wringer with this one. Just when we thought things had settled down, boom, another wrench in the plan. I will say I have about two more parts and an epilouge planned for this. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always, likes are great, but comments and reblogs are golden!

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[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The first question about January 6 was asked at minute 41.

Donald Trump replied with a barrage of crazy lies, ending by seeming to blame Nancy Pelosi’s documentarian daughter.

Then, just to be fair, CNN moderator Jake Tapper followed up with a question to President Joe Biden. Did he really mean to imply that Trump’s voters were a danger to democracy? Biden fumbled the answer, as he fumbled so many other answers. The octogenarian president delivered a fiasco of a performance on the Atlanta debate stage. But the fiasco was not his alone.

Everything about the event was designed to blur the choice before Americans. Both candidates—the serving president and the convicted felon—were addressed as “President.” The questions treated an attempted coup d’état as one issue out of many. The candidates were left to police or fail to police the truth of each other’s statements; it was nobody else’s business.

It may be no coincidence that the modern television presidential debate was born at a time of national political consensus. In 1960, John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon presented a choice very familiar to viewers in the days of three big channels and a limited number of mass-market products: You could choose Crest or Colgate, two very similar products to meet a similar need. One might be a little mintier, the other a little spicier, but both did the job. Now we live in a very different world, a world in which the choice is much more existential—and yet we retain the Crest-versus-Colgate format.

How could it be otherwise? We live in a political culture in which some of us think the supreme issue of our time was an attempted violent overthrow of the Constitution, while other Americans think it was Hunter Biden’s laptop. There are means and institutions to arbitrate those differences. That’s what elections do. But television debates cannot do it, because television debates don’t happen unless they get buy-in from both sides. Therefore, television debates are designed necessarily to ratify the concept of “both sides.”

Ferocious controversy will probably now erupt over Biden’s leadership of the Democratic Party. We’ll hear all kinds of plans to swap him out somehow. Maybe those plans will be workable, but probably not. Through the uproar, it will be important to keep in mind that this election is not about Biden. It’s about you and your commitments and your values. Biden is just the instrument. Like any instrument, he’s imperfect. But better an imperfect instrument than a would-be autocrat who demands a cult of personality.

A century ago, the socialist leader (and presidential candidate) Eugene V. Debs rebuked followers who idolized him: “I would not lead you into the promised land if I could, because if I led you in, someone else would lead you out. You must use your heads as well as your hands, and get yourself out of your present condition.”

Against the threat of Trump, Americans must save themselves. The job of doing so cannot be delegated to some charismatic savior—and anyway, that charismatic savior has yet to present himself or herself. Television always wants to reduce active human beings to passive viewers. The presidential-debate format has especially served this purpose: “Do I prefer the candidate in the red tie or the blue one?”

This most recent debate has taught the danger of spectatorship. The job of saving democracy from Trump will be done not by an old man on a gaudy stage, but by those who care that their democracy be saved. Biden’s evident frailties have aggravated that job and made it more difficult, but they have also clarified whose job it is. Not his. Yours.

David Frum is a staff writer at The Atlantic.

[wheels-of-despair]

A Worth It Story | (Before) Ralph Penbury x You | Series Masterlist

The Other Dance Summary: A flashback to Ralph and the future Mrs. Penbury's first kiss at the Christmas Ball. It contains a horrible date, an awkward dinner, drinking, dancing, drugs, Victoria and her girl gang, Mother, and eventual illness from one or more of the aforementioned horrors. Words: 2.2k

"I bought [the ring] the day after we met."

Whatever teasing remark had been waiting to roll from your lips is forgotten. The day after? He can't be serious.

"I assure you, I am very serious. I have the receipt at home if you doubt the date."

"Why, Ralph?" you breathe.

"You don't remember, do you?"

"What am I supposed to be remembering?"

"Our first kiss."

You look at him in complete confusion.

"The Christmas Ball. You kissed me under the mistletoe."

-Worth It, Chapter 12

Wilfred Carmichael was not a bad-looking person.

In fact, when you'd first laid eyes on him, you'd been pleasantly surprised. You knew nothing about him, except that he needed a date to the Christmas Ball and was the nephew of someone your mother was desperate to impress. But he was tall, and handsome, and had a charming smile.

Your mother, eager to climb the social ladder, had finally received an invitation to join the ladies' aid group she'd been lusting after for ages. They raised money for charities, hosted parties and dances, and gossiped about everyone in town. When they finally asked her to join, you thought she might faint from excitement.

So when the secretary's nephew suddenly found himself single a week before the Christmas Ball the ladies had been planning for months, your mother graciously volunteered you to be his date.

It had been suggested that the two of you get to know each other before the dance, so he'd been invited to tea, with your parents present. He'd been funny, and charming, and polite. After it was determined that you were a decent match, your mothers planned your next date: he'd pick you up, take you to a nice dinner in a respectable and well-lit restaurant, and then bring you to the dance. You only had a week to prepare, after all.

The night of the dance, Wilfred showed up on time and dazzled your mother with his dashing smile during the required small-talk. He was clean-cut, respectful, and set to inherit a fortune. Everything a young lady is supposed to want in a man.

And then you got know him.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet but tolerable. You weren't exactly comfortable with him yet, but you did your best to appear confident and interesting. After you'd been seated and the waiter came over to take your orders, Wilfred ordered for you: Veal. Rare.

Giving him the benefit of the doubt, hoping that maybe he was ordering out of habit for the old girlfriend, you quickly told the waiter that actually, you'd like something else. You changed your order, and when the waiter scurried away with his head ducked, you received a hushed lecture on being an embarrassment as the vein in Wilfred's forehead throbbed threateningly at you.

You sat there quietly, not quite sure what to say. You hadn't realized that not wanting to eat a raw baby animal would be such a polarizing issue.

The main course was a silent and tense affair. You forced yourself to eat half of your meal, which was usually something you enjoyed, but tonight it had trouble going down. Wilfred lightened up and started talking again by dessert, but you were wary of him after the veal fiasco. What would it take to really set him off?

He'd turned the charm back on by the time you arrived at the venue that was hosting the Christmas Ball. He joked with the boy who checked your coats, greeted chaperones with a brilliant smile, and steered you to the refreshment table to pick up two cups of punch.

A boy you recognized from church was also at the table, so you said hello to him. As casual acquaintances sometimes do.

Wilfred sat down the punch, grabbed your arm, and hastily escorted you to a table full of bored-looking couples. He quickly introduced you to all of his friends, whose names you forgot immediately, then sat down and proceeded to ignore you.

The girls sat quietly while the boys talked loudly over each other. You made yourself look busy by admiring the decorations; red velvet fabric and gold accents everywhere. Very coordinated.

After a while, someone began passing around a silver flask. You reached for it when it came to you, figuring it might take the edge off, but it was snatched from your grasp before you could take a sip.

"Ladies don't drink." Wilfred took a swig and handed the flask to the next man, completely passing over the girl on his other side. A few of the girls at the table snickered behind their hands.

You didn't know what to do. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks from embarrassment. You took solace in the fact that this would be your final date with him. There was absolutely no way you'd allow yourself to be subjected to this again.

Trying to look unbothered, you scanned the crowd for a familiar face. Any familiar face. Your eyes landed on your mother, who was waving you over. Thank God. Your mother wasn't usually a welcome sight, but tonight, she'd do. You excused yourself, and went to her.

"Dearest! This is Mrs. Penbury, without whom this wonderful event would not have been possible, and her lovely children: Victoria and Ralph. They're twins!"

"Hello," you said with fake enthusiasm, making brief eye contact with each Penbury.

Mrs. Penbury gave you a warm welcome before flitting off to straighten a crooked garland. Your mother rushed to help her, leaving you with two people you'd known for approximately three seconds.

"Oh, aren't you just darling?" Victoria remarks, looking you up and down and making you feel like a specimen under a microscope. "Come with me, you must meet the girlies!" She grabs your hand and drags you away.

"It was nice to meet you," you call back to Victoria's brother with a friendly smile before you disappear into the crowd with her.

When Victoria reaches her table full of girlfriends, she snakes an arm around you and introduces you as the daughter of the club's newest member.

You stand there awkwardly, letting everyone inspect you and introduce themselves, until the one called Ernestine stands and announces that she'd like to visit the powder room. The entire table rises, purses in hand, and Victoria's hand on your back guides you along with them. You were shocked to be included in something as sacred as a group trip to the ladies' room so soon, and you went along with them happily. This was much better than sitting silently at Wilfred Carmichael's side.

When the door was closed, everyone opened their bags and pulled out their own flasks. Apparently ladies DO drink, Willie-boy.

The girls compare what they've brought, and begin sampling from each other's dainty little bottles. You had nothing to offer, but you were included anyway. And you were grateful for it.

"Who are you here with?" the one called Enid asks.

"Wilfred Carmichael!" Victoria answers for you. The girls give each other knowing looks.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna need more than a drink to deal with HIM," a girl whose name you've forgotten says sympathetically, digging into her purse. She comes up with a small silver case, then turns her back to you as she fiddles with something on the sink.

"Come on!" she says, pointing to a line of white powder on the marble. You shift awkwardly, not sure what she's asking of you.

"Darling, have you never had nose candy before?" You shake your head, a blush creeping into your cheeks.

"Here, watch me." Several girls demonstrate, and when you think you've finally figured it out, you take your turn.

WOW.

"Look how cute she is!" "I can't believe we got to witness her first time!" "We're so bad!" All the girls seem to be talking and giggling at once, but you don't mind. Better in here than out there.

Victoria leans down for her turn, then comes back up to shout, "Let's dance!" Flasks are returned to purses, the silver case is put away, and the girls move as one out the door and onto the dance floor.

You all dance together as a group, laughing and enjoying yourselves, until you feel fingers circle your upper arm. You look up to see the glaring face of Wilfred Carmichael. He's so angry, you can see the rage coming off him in waves. Suddenly, you don't feel much like dancing anymore. You let him lead you back to the table, and sit there quietly, heart pounding.

After a few minutes, you begin to wonder why. Why did you let him ruin your good time? Wilfred isn't the boss of you. This is your first damn date. He has no claim on you, and no right to make you feel this way.

Before you can get up and walk away, his friend's flask is passed around again. Wanting to make a statement before you go, you grab it. He snatches it from your hand and brandishes it at your face.

"Ladies don't drink," he said, firmer this time.

"Watch me," you challenge, grabbing it back and taking a gulp of the fiery liquid. A hush fell over the table as you tried to mask your disgust at the taste. Wilfred's face begins to turn a horrifying shade of puce, and you decide that now would be a great time to disappear.

You slam the flask on the table, grab your purse, and walk away. It was as simple as that. But the multiple kinds of alcohol combined with the "nose candy" from earlier seem to hit you all at once. Instead of rejoining Victoria and her friends, you focus your energy on making your way to the restroom, just needing to sit quietly for a moment.

Miraculously, you make it there and into a stall. You close your eyes and breathe deeply. The door opens and lets in the noise from outside for a few seconds, and you hear a herd of heels clacking toward you. Maybe they won't realize you're there.

"Darling, are you alright?" a friendly voice attached to red heels asks from outside the stall where you sit, trying to control your breathing.

"Yes, just needed a minute."

"Victoria, is that…?" someone whispers quietly. The group quickly figures out who you are, and asks you to come out and join them.

"Feeling a little sickly, dearie? It's just because it's your first time, happened to all of us. Here, try this." One of the girls - Izzy, maybe? - digs into her purse and hands you a small white pill.

"What is it?" you ask suspiciously.

"It'll make you feel better, I promise," she says with a smile.

What the hell. You swallow it dry, and they cheer. Growing suspicious at their enthusiasm, you ask again: "What was it?"

"Just a little pick-me-up, doll, don't worry your pretty little head about it. Let's go back out, shall we?" Victoria smile is so intense, it's a little frightening.

"I'll be along, I just need a moment more," you tell them. They shrug and leave without you.

You begin feeling strange. Stranger than before. Realizing that it was not going to get better, and that you did not want to spend all night hiding in this restroom - or worse, having your mother find out why you're ill and alone - you fix your hair in the mirror, grab your purse, and decide to make a break for home before it gets worse.

You spot the exit and march toward it with your eyes on the floor, but instead of walking through the doorway, you walk into a body.

"Sorry!" you both cry at once. You look up to see a handsome young gentleman with a nervous face, and a sprig of mistletoe above him.

"Do I have to kiss you in order to pass?"

"Pardon?" he asks, his widening in confusion.

You point up, and he follows your finger to the mistletoe.

"Oh! No! I'm-- it's not-- I don't--" His panicked face turns red as he stammers, and you immediately regret teasing the young man. You hated to think you'd made someone feel as bad as Wilfred had made you feel tonight. You rise up to kiss him on his burning cheek, and he stops spluttering.

"Merry Christmas," you say with a smile, side-stepping him and continuing toward the exit.

You made it outside and breathed in the wonderfully frigid December air, feeling briefly reinvigorated, before a meaty hand belonging to Wilfred Bloody Carmichael closed on your upper arm again. In your haste to escape, you'd forgotten your coat.

You whirled around with a glare.

The confrontation that followed largely remains a mystery to you. Your brain had grown more than a little fuzzy at this point, but you definitely remember a "How DARE you!" and a "You TROLLOP!" You countered with a "YOU DON'T OWN ME" and a slap to the face before stomping off, in the cold, without a coat. You were still amazed that you made it home without freezing to death.

Your mother had been angry with you the next morning, but you did your best to piece together what happened and share the parent-appropriate parts of the night. One look at the finger-shaped bruises on your arm was all it took for your father to declare that Wilfred Carmichael's name was never to be spoken in his house ever again.

At least one good thing came out of that night….

Or so you'd thought at the time.

On a beautiful spring day in the park, standing on the bridge above the happy little ducks with the person you loved most in the world, you realized it was actually two.

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @notstinky, @realmackross TIMING: August 3rd at Mistwood Park SUMMARY: Waka Waka Waka Waka....Howdy Partner! WARNINGS: None!

Mistwood Park was bubbling with life; the rumbling sound of voices like a swarm of insects hung over the clatter of legos and occasional fits of laughter. Thea could pick out bits of conversation: people who had gotten narratively invested in their lego creations, people who were complaining about the heat, someone who thought a lego hot dog was a real hot dog and now had a chipped tooth. Thea had come down to watch people build their lego creations for the contest tomorrow, mesmerized by how tiny blocks could form blocky recreations and works of art. The creations ranged from lego animals to spaceships (Thea liked those best). Someone had even built a large lego castle with a winding, maze-like interior. Thea, who maintained that the most creative thing she was capable of was color coding her notes, was impressed. 

Thea walked through the park, approaching the end of the displays where a large lego Pac-Man stood, built up from hundreds of yellow legos. His accompanying ghosts and circle pellets were still being made, but she thought the scale and accuracy of the Pac-Man was impressive enough. Having walked through all of the entries to the lego building contest, Thea turned to leave when her body crashed into another’s. “Oh!” she squeaked, holding out her hands to catch the stranger if they fell. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was….” Thea trailed off. That was a familiar mess of blonde hair. In fact, that was a very familiar set of features. “Oh my god…” she blinked. “Wait a minute, are you Zoey Ross?” 

—

It wasn’t Mackenzie’s plan to go look at Lego sculptures in the park. In fact, the last time she had played with a Lego had been years ago, but she couldn’t stay cooped up forever after the Barbie Nightmare Sleepover fiasco. In fact, she had only recently cleaned her house. But it was nice out and instead of living life as a complete hermit, she opted to go see other people’s talent with small plastic bricks that hurt like a motherfucker when you ran one into your foot. But being dead, did this mean she was immuned now?

As she let her eyes wander up and down the rows of colorful bricked creations, she was caught off guard by a hard thud, which resulted in a Roblox type of noise escaping her mouth. If it hadn’t been for the person who bumped into her, catching her, Mack would have hit the ground, “Hey, it’s no problem. I-” Before she could finish, Mackenzie heard a squeal of recognition, but with the wrong name. It had been a while since anyone had called her Zoey. Her fellow actress on Dropped dawned the same last name, which always made for an interesting conversation after the fact, when she would have to explain the mix-up. “Uh, yeah. That would be my co-star. I’m actually Mackenzie Ross, no relation to Zoey, but I see you’re a fan of the show?” An uneasy smile crept across her features.

—

Thea didn’t watch a lot of TV, she didn’t watch a lot of anything. It was hard to stay interested when it wasn’t animated or filled with enough gore to make her sick; either she liked shows and movies intended for children or things that no child should ever watch. “Oh, um…” She willed recognition to come to her. This was not Zoey Ross, she told herself. This was someone called Mackenzie Ross. And Mackenzie Ross was famous for… Thea didn’t know. She might as well have been talking to a rock and not The Rock but a literal rock. “Oh, are you two sisters?” Thea asked with a smile. “Um, actually, I didn’t like the show. I thought it was kinda…” Thea waved her hand in the air. “Um, like unseasoned chicken.” She paused, flushing. “No offense though! I’m sure you were great in it! Not that I remember who you played—I remember Zoey Ross—but maybe it just wasn’t for me!” Thea’s hands flew around her body, trying to keep up with her rushed words. 

“W-what brings you to the LEGOs?” Thea gulped. “This, um, this Pac-Man is really nice.” She gestured to the large yellow LEGO sculpture beside them. “Um, it’s not done yet, but when they run the contest tomorrow I bet it’ll be a hit! W-what do you think, Ms. Ross-but-not-Zoey?” 

—

Mackenzie had never been so insulted yet entertained in her life. Unseasoned chicken. That was a new one, and as much as she wanted to be upset by the comment, she just couldn’t. Would this person still consider Dropped unseasoned chicken, if she had known that I had died on the set? She pushed the thought from her head. “Uh, no. We’re not related. She was just another person that worked on the show. And you know, not everybody’s gonna be a fan. I’m just not sure I’ve ever heard it be compared to unseasoned chicken before.” She laughed.

Glancing over at the huge life sized Pac-Man set up next to them, she admired the dedication it took to build it, “I think somebody has a lot of talent, and I would hate to make that thing angry if it ever came to life.” It was a LEGO sculpture, and that couldn’t happen right? I mean she knew this town was weird, but still…It was made from plastic. “And you can call me Mack.” She looked back over to the woman who was clearly nervous.

—

“Two people who worked on the show had the same last name and weren’t related?” Thea could imagine the nightmare of it. To ease the trauma she assumed Mack’s had with her last name, she smiled softly. Not that smiling ever eased any trauma, but it was the only thing Thea could offer. “I just mean it’s bland,” Thea elaborated despite the fact an elaboration wasn’t needed. “Like it wasn’t funny. For me. Or good. In my opinion. Or entertaining. To me.” Thea shrugged. “My favorite show is NOVA. Y’know? The science documentary show?” She paused, there was probably a reason she didn’t find anything live-action entertaining unless it was educational or a gore-fest.

Thea’s attention snapped away from Mack as a WAKA burst through the air. Thea stared at the Pac-Man, whose mouth was now closed. Strange. It must have always been closed, now that she thought about it. The sound must have been programmed into the stand; authentic Pac-Man noises. She turned back to Mack. “I don’t think it’ll come to life. that would be weird,” Thea laughed. “What? Would it chase us around and try to crush us under its large lego mouth?” She smiled, shaking her head. “Did you move here to lay-low?” Thea asked. “You couldn’t have picked a more normal town! I’m pretty sure, like, nothing bad happens here.” Just as she said it, something. behind her snapped. 

—

“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad considering we mostly went by our first names.” She smiled softly and wanted to keep smiling, until the insults just kept coming. The woman had definitely gotten her point across with the unseasoned chicken comment leaving Mack feeling much like Maddy from Wild ‘N Out. If this woman had said something about the actress putting raisins in her potato salad or liking mayonnaise, she was out. “Uh, yeah. Science is cool. Have you thought about talking to this guy that works at the university? His name is Gael, and he loves science. You know, it might be a little more entertaining…” Mackenzie was gritting her teeth by this point and forced a smile back onto her face.

It had come as a relief when she noticed the woman’s eyes shift to the statue rather than staying focused on Mack and insulting the show she worked so hard on and had literally died on. But Mackenzie hadn’t noticed any odd movements from the statue, since she had been so invested in trying not to slap the science out of Thea. “Yeah, it would, but I feel like stranger things in this town have happened.” The comment about the giant Pac-Man crushing them in its mouth did somewhat worry Mack though. But she couldn’t let the worry of something as silly as that- “Uh…I don’t know your name, since you were more concerned about giving me your honest opinion of my show, but I would move away from the statue if I were you…” Mackenzie motioned towards the Pac-Man that was now hovering in the air off of its stand, as she slowly began to back away.

—

The mention of university made Thea frown. If she hadn’t been bit, she would have graduated this year. Without a cure, without any semblance of control of the wolf, there was no way she could go back to school. She filed the name ‘Gael’ away, regardless, and missed the forced smile and annoyed tone; she was too far gone inside of her head. Thea picked at a loose thread at the end of her sleeve. “Um. Yeah. Maybe. Thanks,” she mumbled. 

“Thea,” she responded, still trapped in the labyrinth of her thoughts. Was it a left to clear them or a right? WAKA. WAKA. No, she must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. WAKA. WAKA. What was that about Pac-Man? Man, these sound effects were really loud. Thea turned around, her nose scraping the lip of the LEGO Pac-Man. It WAKA’d once more, pinching her nostrils. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, yeah. You’re right. We should run.” She pulled her nose free and grabbed Mack’s arm, pulling her along just enough until she was sure the actress was running too. Behind them, the Pac-Man shut its mouth with a thunderous WAKA and screeched like a rusted hinge when it opened. The ground shuddered where it carved a line through the earth, hungry for the flesh of two young women. “I don’t think this is supposed to happen!” she called out. 

—

Mackenzie’s eyes grew wide as the giant LEGO creature nibbled on Thea’s nose. Her legs continued to slowly carry her backwards, until she noticed that the woman had finally started moving away from the thing, but before she could really process it all, Mackenzie felt herself being tugged forwards by Thea.

Hearing its loud WAKA booming behind them both, Mack continued to press forward, but the neuropathy in her feet seemed to slow her down. It was a brief nip on the tush that seemed to give her the inspiration she needed to force herself to move faster. And luckily for her, running out of oxygen wouldn’t be an issue. But that thing was HUGE, and if they both didn’t pick up the pace, it was probably going to end in two flattened people and one large Pac-man destroying downtown Wicked’s Rest.

“THEA! Look!” As she continued to move forward, Mackenzie spotted a castle completely made of LEGOs that was actually rather big considering what it was made out of and where it was located, “Maybe we can hide in there!” Without giving it much thought, she turned left and started running towards the drawbridge gate. If they had needed a mote, the Pac-man could certainly lay the groundwork. But Mack’s mind was on the opening that lay just a few hundred feet ahead; no thought given on if this would be a trap in itself!

—

Running out of oxygen was, however, a big issue for Thea, who couldn’t figure out how to breathe while her pulse cleaved through her body, splintering her bones from the sinew. Her feet thumped on the ground and she tried to remember how running was supposed to feel and supposed to happen and where her feet were meant to land and what her arms were meant to do. Her body moved but her mind hadn’t caught up with the logistics. Mack pivoted left and Thea stumbled as she followed, searing her palms on the gravel before she kicked up and bolted after the blonde. Thea wasn’t out-of-shape—cardio exercise was a constant in her life—but she watched Mack run like a movie star: no sweat, no heaving. Well, she supposed, Mack was exactly that. That was so unfair; Thea probably looked like a personal-sized tornado had swept across her body and Mack looked photoshoot ready. Rich people sucked.

Thea pushed herself into the LEGO castle, diving through the threshold like a baseball player hitting home plate. “Close the doors!” she called out over her shoulder. “Close those intricately made LEGO doors!” Really, the craftsmanship was something else; not only was the castle big enough to house two adult sized women, but it seemed to stretch on into more rooms and halls. The walls were adorned with block sconces outfitted with red LEDs. Thea took only a moment to consider how that was wired. “Are we…” Thea gulped. “Are we safe?” She couldn’t hear the hungry yellow monster anymore. 

—

Mackenzie had managed to slip inside, but seeing Thea barreling towards her like a bull during the Running of the Bulls alerted her to sidestepping just in time to not get smacked. But the Pac-Man was still following closely behind, and at the woman’s request, Mack used all of her strength to close the doors just in time before the thing could WAKA them to death.

“That was so fucking close!” The zombie collapsed to the floor in relief, but also because both running and closing well made LEGO doors that were lifesize had been nearly impossible for one person, “And those doors are surprisingly heavy to be made out of just plastic blocks. Geeze!” Mack looked back up at Thea, who seemed winded, “You okay, Bud? You look like shit.” A small smirk slipped across her lips at the enjoyment of finally getting to insult the brunette back; glad they were both safe, but still getting some pleasure. “So what do we do now? Just hangout here, until that thing outside gets bored and moves onto someone else?” She looked towards a window, only to see yellow slowly floating past which made her quickly look away.

—

Thea couldn’t help it; as Mack collapsed on the floor, she peered over her, inspecting her skin. She wasn’t sweating, she wasn’t flushed—what kind of a personal trainer did she have? Thea’s heart hammered in her chest and she strained to hone in on Mack with her erratic hearing—she wasn’t very good with her strange, new senses, mostly the world was a jumble of too loud, too stinky for her—and found that she couldn’t hear anything from the actress. Well, she wasn’t good at picking up heartbeats anyway. Once, she thought she might use her new senses like a lie detector and found herself listening in on the gurgle of intestines instead; bodies made a lot of weird squelching noises she’d rather not focus on. Thea stumbled back with a flush. “I don’t look like shit!” She blinked, gesturing at Mack. “Not all of us can have…uh, whatever you have going on. Like, you look like those girls in the sportswear ads? Like Nike and Adidas and stuff? You know how they’re doing sports but all their hair is tidy and they’re not sweaty or red? That’s you.” She was too exhausted to hide the amazement in her voice.  

Thea pushed herself off the ground and dusted off. She smiled at Mack, holding out a hand to help her up. “Maybe we can check this place out? I kinda want to see what all the rooms look like. It seems like they built a lot of stuff! That’s neat.” Gone, as if it had never existed, was her fear of Pac-Man. Thea was proud of her ability to deny, forget and repress; if Nike made ads for that, she could totally star in them. 

—

A compliment from Thea? Wow! That had surprised Mack, but maybe it was because of the defeat in Thea’s voice from being winded, “You know? I think that’s the first nice thing you’ve said to me since we met. I’ll take it.” Any chance to mess with the woman, she was going to take it after being humiliated by her earlier. “And hey, Thea? I was in a Nike Ad once. I’ll show you the pictures if we ever get out of here.”

Taking Thea’s hand, Mack pulled herself up and followed suit dusting off her pants, “I’m down. Besides, it’s not like I really want to go back outside right now considering you know what is lurking around the building.” She hated to think of that thing chasing them again and chomping down. Mackenzie didn’t know how much more running she could take, despite not being winded. “Whoever constructed this thing must either be a genius or practice magic. Can you imagine the time it took?” She started to move forward taking in every delicate plastic brick that had surrounded them. “How many Legos do you think it took to make this place?” She looked over at Thea.

—

“Thanks! I guess I…wait…” Thea squinted. “What do you mean ‘first nice thing’?” She thought she was being friendly. Still heaving, she searched her pounding brain for memories of their brief conversation. Yes, in there somewhere, she had accidentally insulted her acting talent. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being a mediocre actress?” she said, thinking more out loud than talking to Mack. “Not that you are one! I just mean, like, if you were. Hypothetically!” Her hands shot up again, waving wildly in the air. “I don’t want to see you in a Nike ad! You’d be half-naked, probably, and I don’t want to see that. I mean, not that you’re not attractive. I mean—it…” Thea gulped, flipping around and storming down the lego hall. If she physically moved on, then perhaps they could emotionally move on and forget she said anything. 

“There’s no such thing as magic!” Thea called back from over her shoulder. “That’s silly! This is obviously like, hard work and science, or something.” At the question of how many LEGOs were inside the castle, Thea started running calculations in her head. The length of the hallway, and the length of a LEGO, and the height of the room… And then she heard it. 

It was inescapable. 

“Howdy Partner.”

The roof of the castle snapped and pebbles of LEGOs rained down on them. The smiling face of a giant LEGO Sheriff Woody peered down. Thea stopped walking. “Mack,” she said, “I think we should just run out of the park now.” 

—

Mack took pleasure in witty banter with Thea. She couldn’t help but snicker under her breath, and then there it was again; an insult wrapped up in a nice pretty compliment. By now, Mack had just come to accept it. And instead of further carrying on the banter, she let it go as she watched Thea move forward.

This day had certainly turned out much different than she had expected it would, and despite the fact that they were almost eaten by a giant Pac-man, Mackenzie had found herself grateful she had decided to venture out since things had seemed to settle down. But almost as if the Gods of Wicked’s Rest had noticed her getting a little too comfortable with her surroundings, Mack quickly heard the boom “Howdy Partner” only to look up to see a giant Sheriff Woody loom down at them both.

For once, Mack had actually agreed with Thea, and without hesitation, she snatched up her new frienemy’s hand ready to haul ass out the back half of the castle to freedom and safety with the goal of them both living to see another day.

—

As Thea ran, she spared one glance at the giant Pac-man and another for the giant Sheriff Woody and one for Mack, who was still not sweaty. As they moved on from the pack, and the giant legos turned shrunk into the horizon, Thea wondered if after mercilessly insulting Mack, they could still be friends.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 24

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 23 🍂 Part 25

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Chapter warnings: Sy's big-ass family.

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: @keanureevesisbae, as promised, I bring thee: Ch 24. I'm making y'all wait for 25 until I have 27 written. Sorry ❤️

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @omgkatinka @summersong69 @beck07990 @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @ellethespaceunicorn

Jules started her little speech by thanking everyone for showing up at her engagement party, and thanking you – and Sy – for letting her use your house, which subjected you to the scorn of your mother-in-law again. Alright; subjected Sy to the scorn of his mother again. You were largely unaffected by the aforementioned scorn.

“As you may know,” Jules continued, “Pat hates being the center of attention for the whole night, and I’m a sucker for planning surprises for people.” You felt Sy tense up next to you as she said that.

“And it just so happens that someone very important to all of us…” Jules was laying the praise on thick, which Sy didn’t seem to appreciate. It took you far too long to realize where she was even going with this. “… turns thirty next week.”

Sy looked at Julie as if he wanted to shoot her straight to hell, and you sighed, as there was now officially no way you could make yourself scarce. There was singing, then another round of singing, specifically because Sy had begged everyone to stop singing, and following that had to be an attempt at the World Record for ‘most consecutive times a single person could hear the word ‘congratulations’ before going batshit crazy.’

You surprised Sy’s family with a sudden outburst of Dutchness when you congratulated Sy’s parents with Sy’s birthday, and were then forced to explain that it was a thing the Dutch did, without being able to give any kind of even half-decent reason as to why. Finding out you were Dutch also meant that a small army of kids now forced you to teach them some Dutch words, which started out cute, but soon turned into the inevitable ‘translate this swearword for me’-fiasco anyone with any braincells would have seen coming from the beginning. All in all, it took a while for things to settle down a bit again, and you were glad when the kids had disappeared back into the crowd.

“Love kids, but thirteen of them is a lot.” You said to Sy when he helped you find a place to sit down for a minute.

“I’d ask if you’re feeling any better yet, but I don’t think that whole circus really helped,” he said as he stroked a few curls out of your face and tucked them behind your ear, where they immediately escaped again, making Sy laugh. “Let me get you a drink.”

“Thanks, Sy,” you said, grabbing his hand as he got up to head to the kitchen.

While Sy was gone, you closed your eyes, and tried to ignore everyone around you, which became impossible when Mary Beth joined you on the couch.

“Lara, sweetheart, would I be a whole lot of trouble if I asked you to hold Lainey for a minute?”

“No, of course not!” You hadn’t even finished your sentence, or the little girl was in your arms.

“Thanks, honey,” Mary Beth said softly, “I love her to bits, but my arms are gettin’ sore.”

“I can imagine,” you said. Lainey was adorable. Nine months old with enormous blue eyes, and little hands and feet and… Her mom was gone. Probably off to the bathroom, but still, you prayed she’d get back just in case Lainey decided to start crying…

“Hey, how’s my favorite niece?” Sy sat down next to you and wrapped one arm around you as he tickled Lainey with the other.

“I thought I was your favorite niece, uncle Sy?” One of the other girls had heard what he said and jumped into his lap.

“Y’are,” Sy said, “and so are the twins.”

“That’s not fair,” one of the boys yelled. Suddenly, you were being ganged up on by children. It was scarier than you would have imagined.

“You’re not my niece, Johnny,” Sy answered with a smile, and the kids laughed at their uncle’s terrible joke before disappearing again.

“You said somethin’bout this lookin’ good on me, Sugar,” Sy said softly as he pressed his lips to your temple, “but I gotta admit, it looks pretty damn fine on you, too.”

You allowed yourself to get lost in that feeling for a bit. It was like a little glimpse into your future; sitting on that couch with Sy, holding a baby…

“Dammit, Sy, I want one,” you heard yourself say, although you were sure you’d never made the conscious decision to actually speak the words. In fact, you’d never thought you’d hear yourself utter a sentence like that at all. Ever. The look on Sy’s face said it all, but he doubled down on it with words.

“As many as you want, Sugar,” he said before kissing you. The loving and intimate energy of the moment was skillfully destroyed by half a dozen children yelling “eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew” the moment Sy’s lips touched yours.

“Good Lord, you’d think it would traumatize them forever,” Mary Beth said after shooing the kids away. Now that her spot on the couch was taken, she sat down in the chair next to you. “I’ll take her again, if you want.” She held out her arms, but you really didn’t want to let go of Lainey just yet.

“It’s alright, she’s asleep, anyway,” you said. Mary Beth seemed more than grateful to have her hands free for a bit longer, and you didn’t mind that you got to cuddle with this cutie a little more. Besides, your stomach finally seemed to settle a little, but you still hoped that holding a sleeping baby would keep people away from you for a bit.

It all went on like that for quite some time, and by the time people started leaving, you’d been praying they would for at least three hours. Sy was merciless in kicking his brothers – who were now fairly drunk – out of the house, and with them gone, peace was restored. Wait, no. Scratch that: quiet was restored. Peace, to you, was a house that didn’t look like a miniature tornado had ripped through it.

“Take a shower and go to bed, Sugar,” Sy said. He could clearly tell you still weren’t feeling very well – and he was one hundred per cent right about that, it’s just that you’d much rather he join you for both of those activities. “I’m gonna help Jules clean up this mess.” Jules didn’t look too thrilled that she was being roped into cleaning duty – something she had surely hoped to avoid by not hosting this party herself, but you knew she wasn’t so stupid as to actually expect she’d be let go just like that. Even with Sy’s mom doing you the courtesy of stacking the dishwasher before she left, there was still plenty to be done.

“Since when does your family leave deviled eggs uneaten?” Jules asked while she carried a plate with two sad-looking eggs back to the kitchen. “Lara, want one?” As soon as she held the plate out to you, you stepped back. Julie made a whole scene out of pointing out you loved deviled eggs – as if you’d forget that – but with your stomach as upset as it was right now, they just made you feel sick.

“Let her go upstairs, Jules,” Sy said. There was definitely some irritation in his voice, and you were one hundred percent sure he wanted Jules and Pat out of the house as soon as humanly possible, so he could get to bed, too. “She’s not feeling well. Just… help me clean up my damn house.”

Jules followed his orders immediately, which was a very un-Jules thing to do, and you made your way upstairs. First stop: bathroom. The thought of a hot shower was almost excruciatingly appealing to you right now.

[cornus27florida]

I think all three of the Plaid brothers share the blame for the engagement fiasco. Blaine for admitting that Gwen doesn’t meet his standards for beauty and Lance for admitting that they made Frederick go through with courting Gwen. Frederick fell for Gwen for real but of course he didn’t realize she overheard him.

That's true, all of the three Plaid Princes are share the blame for the engagement fiasco - but imho the blame actually for all parties involved. Which means even Pastel Princesses in wrong on some parts too. Like what Jamie said in ep 155 (although in different context, BUT Gwen eat poisoned apple is the result of engagement fiasco) "it was a bit of everyone's fault" -> Please, the following wall of text are not character bashings btw, I just tell honest canon facts from my personal opinion - and pointing out some canon things that might be forgotten by fandom. There's so many hates and bashings toward certain characters and I am intend to peace it out

You are right about the engagement fiasco as part of Plaid Princes' fault, but the reactions of Pastel Princesses are also the part of the fiasco. Why I said that, here the following:

Blaine painted himself as a hypocrite when trying to vouch for Frederick, and indirectly tell Gwen is ugly (quote: stop being absurd, Maria! You two are ACTUALLY beautiful)

Maria is stunned after that and called him the one with ugly side (hypocrite) - this is true BUT this also the leading point where Blaine fell harder to the darkness side, he becomes so cold he calls Gwen ugly again later around prison cell (oh, and his mockery to Frederick too). Blaine later on tricking Maria to opening the door, which make the invasion could happen, Leland's "not so nice plan" begin comes in the motion. The fiasco is the trigger to stop the "nice way" plan completely

Let's move to Lance and Lorena. Lance is a dumb goof without tact - so when he helps to vouch for Frederick (about his love devotion to Gwen) - I take that his saying of "forced" actually unintentional, like at ep 24 where he accidentally painted Frederick in bad light as someone that took too long in the loo. Lance actually means to highlighting the 'carried Laverne several times to see Gwen'-but he's honestly kinda distant with Frederick as brothers and still thought that Frederick forced to do those things by their father. This is not true as we the one with reader had the narrative to know the truths BUT the characters aren't yet. Lorena along with Maria getting mad (rightfully indeed) about the implication of forced love between Frederick and Gwendolyn = Frederick's love to Gwen not genuine - when in reality it's the opposite. Lorena is the hard headed one from the Pastel siblings, and she is also the one that calls Frederick as the monster. This likely the one that make to Lance completely mute (likely thinking that words aren't good as he believes he can't explain things well) at the Frederick's prison cell, and had wrong thinking that the best way is going along with Leland's plan - as 'supporter' to the invasion plan

Let's move to the last couple which (my OTP) the green pair Frederick/Gwendolyn, before I like to apologize to kinda out of trail by also pointing out the implications of the engagement fiasco BUT I find it's important to highlighting implicit message from the CPC: everything that happened isn't merely coincidence, it's happen for reasons

Frederick fell for Gwen for real but of course he didn’t realize she overheard him -> I want to pointing out that I disagree with the notion. Frederick has inkling of the idea that something is wrong with Gwen especially with how often she put 'fake smiles' with hint of sadness. He try to learn the truth along with coincidentally to be fell in love with her genuinely - which clearly shown at Jamie's Art Show where he confronting Gwen (ep 106) with this : " Did I do something to hurt you when we first met? " -> this means Frederick already had inkling idea that he hurts Gwen somehow when he first met her, but he's not sure about what exactly so he asks Gwen about it directly. He didn't realize (or, aware) that Gwen hides under the table and hears everything. He believes that talk only known by Blaine, and then extended to his own family as got telly talled the next day (ep 16). Remember how shocked the expression of he is that even shaking at ep 132 when he realizes that Gwen overhears him?

Frederick's confrontation at ep 106 isn't leads or 'forced' on by anyone, it's come from his conscience after the CPC intruder arc - that previously missed chance at Gwen's dinner party because Gwen fell asleep early. In that conscience, as hyper aware person - he connects the hint dots as interacted with the CPC. The CPC aware of his (initial) feelings, and attacking him for it - means there's mistake that he He didn't know exactly but very close about it.

Let's see Prez quote to Frederick at ep 85!

"You've got real nerve thinking that being chummy with her will atone you of everything you've made her through" -> after that Frederick in total confusion about what's Gwen going trough, because we know freddolyn is a pairing with abysmal communication as the crown queen is Gwen by making her confrontation to just want to be friend becomes to sounds like a threat to haunting Frederick forever. Later on Frederick knows the complete truth in Whitney's slumber party, but again it's thanks to the CPC not Gwen.

Gwen is very sweet and the kindest girl indeed, but she isn't perfect as if I could say her ultimate flaw is her abysmal communication skill. Shortening up words that totally make different meaning. Putting up fake smiles and hiding the truths, it's only thanks to the CPC that she begins open up and telling her problems. Gwen also dislike confrontations and believe certain truths is well keep hidden which leads to the whole CPC story: how she didn't want to ruin her sisters engagements because her paired prince didn't want her, how she suddenly meets the CPC as the result of she's running at the haunted forest while crying when her family members are thought that she just going to the bed, and how she believes that if Frederick never knows the truth forever - it's the only way for their happily ever after (that's not true + unhealhtly)

Back at "the engagement fiasco", which also the perfect ultimate example of 'bad-poor communication kills' troupe (https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/PoorCommunicationKills). It's happened as waffle note papers raining down to the rose hall at the end of the gala during the Proposals. Frederick learns the truth in the worst possible way, he's hurting so much - as well Gwen.. I am gonna to focus solely to them in the following paragraphs....

Gwen quickly come on his defense right before her sisters ready to attacking Frederick, then she's explaining that she knows about ugly mockery already. This shocking everyone espc Frederick. After that, Frederick hurriedly come to Gwen and apologize (as now, he knows the context). Then her sisters asked why Gwen never tell about it to them and why she defending Frederick. Gwen explains that the last thing she wants is to ruins her sisters happiness (because she knows if her sisters know the truth, they called off their own engagements immediately) - and she believes that she and Frederick gotten to know each other better UNTIL she see her own reflection at the glasses floor of the rose hall.

Then her negative hallucinations come full force, and she begins to get delusions - believing that the girls that called her "ugly duckling" is right with how hideous she looks at reflection. Right at previous ep, 131-Gwen totally anchoring her whole well being to Frederick's love with the quote :

"I don't care if I'm an ugly duckling like those girls said... ... because Prez was right. She doesn't transform into a beautiful swan at the end of the story. She just dicovers her own beauty. ...And my beauty exist... ...in Frederick's eyes"

So as she get sudden shocking situation of engagement fiasco, she's frozen and totally not know what to do. She can't communicating properly as well, so instead telling that the gala guests called her ugly duckling - she tells that (previous) Frederick is right about her being ugly while crying...

Frederick right after that quickly approaching her and tell "No, Gwen you're wrong! I think you're beautiful".. Then her sisters shuushing Frederick by screaming him as monster.

As Gwen anchoring her self to Frederick's love, this becomes unhealthly of "I need him". Her sisters try to calms her down with Lorena says that Gwen didn't need anyone (like Frederick) to tell her as beautiful - Gwen just need to looking at the mirror. Then Gwen says that her sisters won't understand (sadly it's true, because the one that truly will understand what's Gwen going through is Lilyth as her mother and experienced something similar - been called as ugly, one is by the loved one's family while the other by the romantically loved one self in the past) that her reflection totally shattered (shameless promotion but please at least read ch 7 of my fic that explain more about feeling shattered : https://archiveofourown.org/works/51450922/chapters/130267924#workskin because the "shattered" topic is heavy ).

We then have Frederick absolutely broken in wreck, falling and crutching at his head - and totally frozen to can give any response after that. Then we get the following fiasco between Maria and Blaine, Lance and Lorena - which make Gwen ever more sad (please... Anything but this). Princesses go with broken hearts. The Princes stuck in the Rose Hall - and their father comes from behind and telling that the engagement indeed scheme for Plaid Kingdom. We get absolute angsts as the ending of season 4 part 1 - "yay~". Cheers with the glass filled by own tears

And at the end (epilogue) - remember that, even with how heartbreaking that fiasco is that resulting to heartbreaks for the Pastel Princesses and punishments for the Plaid Princes.. The ultimate goal for Isolde make the engagement fiasco with waffle note happen BECAUSE she wants the Pastel Princesses to be protected within their own castle - which gives some home advantages like Lorena's project and the Pastel Maid Ensemble AND basically the help from the CPC that warned by Frederick could kinda come in right time. Another unintentional goal for the fiasco is to give truth bomb to Frederick and Gwendolyn, as the latter planned to never tell the truth to her romantically loved one - which might make the history of Jack/Lilyth relationship (loving with secrets) - be on repeat = not to make unhealthly romantic relationship on repeat. Harsh indeed, but sadly and unfortunately is necessary action to do. Isolde didn't trusts her own sons because Leland make her so separated and stoic to them in the name of "royal way".

Could it (the engagement fiasco) go differently, without crushing the hearts of Pastel Princesses and Plaid Princes got punished tragically? Yes, in alternate universe maybe. Like what-if Isolde trusts her own sons more and believes they're capable to break free from Leland? How I wish for multiple time if things go differently (like, I have an altenative universe scenario where Frederick learn the truth after the gala from the CPC, then he sent letter that explicitly should be opened with Gwen and her siblings to shows that yes he's an idiot in the past but now he truly loves her - and he's hurt with how Gwen kept the truth from him, but as they are love each other he's willing to trust Gwen again as long as from now on - she's completely honest with him so if he ever do any mistake again, he could make amends for it)

The closing image is kinda of burn salve for the fiasco pains

[jennyboom21]

The entire staff of Sports Illustrated was notified on Friday that their jobs were being eliminated.

Authentic, the licensing group that purchased Sports Illustrated for $110 million from Meredith five years ago, has terminated the agreement it holds with The Arena Group to publish SI in print and digital, according to an email obtained by Front Office Sports. That move comes three weeks after Arena missed a $2.8 million payment that breached the company’s SI licensing deal, which began in 2019.

The fallout: On Friday Arena told all SI employees in an email “… We were notified by Authentic Brands Group (ABG) that the license under which the Arena Group operates the Sports Illustrated (SI) brand and SI related properties has been officially revoked by ABG. As a result of this license revocation, we will be laying off staff that work on the SI brand.”

“Some employees will be terminated immediately, and paid in lieu of the applicable notice period under the [the union contract]. Employees with a last working day of today will be contacted by the People team soon. Other employees will be expected to work through the end of the notice period, and will receive additional information shortly.” (An Arena spokesperson did not immediately respond to FOS when contacted about the layoff plans.)

Friday afternoon, the Sports Illustrated Guild wrote on X (formerly Twitter): “We have fought together as a union to maintain the standard of this storied publication that we love, and to make sure our workers are treated fairly for the value they bring to this company. It is a fight we will continue.”

Authentic’s move to terminate Arena’s license and Arena’s eliminating SI’s staff signals a shift in the company that operates SI, weeks after Manoj Bhargava, the founder of 5-Hour Energy, introduced himself to employees of Arena, including SI, as their new leader. Since then, Authentic has had exploratory conversations with and reached out to multiple parties about the possibility of taking over Arena’s role with SI, industry sources with knowledge of the situation tell FOS.

It’s unclear whether Authentic will indeed pursue the path of establishing a new operator or will now allow Arena to renegotiate its current deal. Sources tell FOS, though, that Authentic’s goal is to move the process along as quickly as possible. One way or another, says one insider, “Authentic will see Sports Illustrated through a necessary evolution.”

SI, meanwhile, has struggled to find its financial foothold in the digital age, culminating in a November report that suggested its website had published AI-generated reviews without disclosure. That fiasco was followed by a head-scratching town hall in December led by Bhargava with SI and other Arena employees that spanned more than 90 minutes and during which Bhargava said, “No one is important. I am not important. … The amount of useless stuff you guys do is staggering.” Bhargava’s Simplify Inventions agreed to purchase roughly 65% of Arena in August, a $50 million deal.

Authentic acquired SI from Meredith in May 2019. The Arena Group—operating as Maven, before changing its name in 2021—then paid Authentic $45 million up front as part of a 10-year licensing agreement. Until a month ago, Ross Levinsohn led SI and Arena as Arena began to purchase other struggling media outlets, such as Men’s Journal.

Authentic, sources close to the situation tell FOS, has been irked by Arena in recent years as SI has instituted multiple rounds of layoffs, run off top talent such as Grant Wahl, and undergone constant leadership changes. Authentic’s contact with potential replacement operators predates Arena’s recent missed payment, sources with knowledge of the situation tell FOS.

In addition to Friday’s SI layoffs, Arena fired more than 100 employees on Thursday throughout its organization. But Bhargava, who was tapped as Arena’s interim CEO on Dec. 11, didn’t make those cost-cutting moves. That’s because Bhargava stepped down from that position on Jan. 5 “to avoid any conflicts of interest,” according to an SEC filing. That conflict: Bridge Media Networks, a company completely owned by Bhargava, is in negotiations to make “a substantial investment” in Arena, according to the Arena news release that announced the layoffs on Thursday. The layoffs were carried out instead by Arena execs, its board of directors, and Jason Frankl, of FTI Consulting, who was appointed as Arena’s chief business transformation officer the same day Bhargava resigned, according to SEC filings.

“My immediate focus is to collaboratively design a growth-oriented media company, ensuring the financial stability necessary to cultivate and grow the brands we cherish,” Frankl said in a statement. “While this week’s layoffs were regrettably necessary, I look forward to sharing detailed plans soon.”

[mark-of-chrysus]

#14

A squeaky hammer hit the desk hard enough to dent the wood.

"Alright folks, the first meeting of the 'Ulrta Mega-Simp Club' has officially begun!" Daniel announced before pointing to his vice president, Zack. "What's on today's list of discussions?"

The boy cleared his voice and adjusted his fake mustache before reading loudly from his clipboard.

"To begin with, we must welcome our new members and let them introduce themselves and the reason they have decided to join our glorious army-cough! club."

"Did he just verbally cough?" Someone whispered incredulously, causing Danny to slam his hammer repeatedly onto the desk for silence.

"Then we must inspect the status of their inner simp through a trial...TO THE DEATH! Afterward, we have a 30-minute break for tea and snacks and proceed onto the usual afternoon program of simping."

The president adjusted his own neon green fake mustache with a thoughtful look, before motioning for them to go ahead as planned. He sat up and cleared his voice gravely.

"My name is Daniellicus Maximus Eugeneseternalbaneicus Park. I am the devoted and eternal simp of the beautiful, brilliant, generous, superb, glamorous-"

Zack coughed and was rewarded a nasty glare in response before Danny continued.

"JAY HONG, soon to be Jay Park, loop-willing!"

He unraveled a poster bigger than himself with Jay's face while confetti rained down on him from the vents. It made it entirely worth it to have stuffed Vin Jin's goons into the vents the previous night with the confetti cannons. His performance was rewarded with deafening applause before Zack took the stage.

He looked around, leaned into the microphone, and just said, " I love Mira."

His 'secret' was received with deadpan stares that all seemed to say 'we know'. The boy left the stage silently, the tips of his ears burning brightly, but with a proud expression, as if daring anyone to protest.

The whole Burn Knuckles came onto the stage to express their adoration for their cinnamon roll leader, then the Beauty Dept. girls, who had to be escorted off the stage for expressing their love for Eli in a manner that was too frightening for the male population to bare. After that whole fiasco came a few other no-name simps who sang their praises for the object of their affection (someone had literally read a poem about how much they loved the cafeteria, which...fair, it was free food and free drama, what more could you ask for).

The first stage of their meeting ended somewhat peacefully.

Then came the trials.

DUN! DUN! DUN!

Everyone jumped and turned towards Zack, who sheepishly lowered the beatbox he had pulled out from god knows where. They were all lined up and Danny pulled out a tube of toothpaste, while the boxer fished his phone out of his pocket and began filing the interrogation/interviews with the flair of a professional cameraman.

"What would you do for your bias?" was the question addressed to all members and each of them gave an answer that was more worrying than the other, up to the point where homicide and world enslavement was mentioned.

Satisfied with their new simps the two concluded the interviews and awarded each of them with a badge made out of the lid of a noodle cup with the words 'I'm a proud member of the UMSC' written on in sharpie.

Afterward, the newly established UMSC had a wonderful, peaceful tea party in which they bonded over their shared love of their bias and other various things. Unknowingly, Daniel had created the ultimate weapon against the 4 Major Crews, whose own members would slowly be baptized into the simp way and join the UMSC, turning it into an unstoppable force of over 3 thousand fanatic followers and devoted simps.

[melancholia-ennui]

Finally got around to reading Paizo's statement on the OGL fiasco (available here). I have Thoughts™, mostly good ones.

Before we begin, let me just say this opening is absolutely balling:

We believe that any interpretation that the OGL 1.0 or 1.0(a) were intended to be revocable or able to be deauthorized is incorrect, and with good reason.

We were there.

Power moves aside, the announcement of the Open RPG Creative License (ORC) is very encouraging. Two particular points stand out to me in the discussion.

The Good

First, a quote from the statement (emphasis in original):

the release of a new open, perpetual, and irrevocable [license]

The emphasis on 'irrevocable' suggests that Paizo are very aware of the major flaw in the original OGL, namely that while the text of the license started it was perpetual and that any version of the license could be used, it did not include the word 'irrevocable' anywhere in the text, which allowed the legal loophole that WotC are using to abuse that very license.

Second, the statement tells us that the ORC License will be 'system agnostic'. This is a very good sign - the original OGL was very much designed around D&D (originally 3e), and it was never intended to carry the burden of being the single license by which almost all TTRPGs that want to cultivate third party content are released.

Thirdly - and this is the bit I find most exciting - we get the following little tidbit:

The ORC will not be owned by Paizo, nor will it be owned by any company who makes money publishing RPGs. Azora Law’s ownership of the process and stewardship should provide a safe harbor against any company being bought, sold, or changing management in the future and attempting to rescind rights or nullify sections of the license. Ultimately, we plan to find a nonprofit with a history of open source values to own this license (such as the Linux Foundation).

This is excellent news - when I heard Paizo are spearheading the attempts to develop an alternative open license for TTRPGs outside of the scope of WotC monopoly, my immediate worry was: what's to stop Hasbro performing an aggressive buy-out of Paizo, and then we'll all be back in the same soup?

By guaranteeing that they do not own the license, Paizo hedge against this possibility - and if they do get it into the hands of a committed non-profit like the Linux Foundation, that would work as a fairly robust buffer against any attempts by Hasbro or any other would-be monopoly to get their hands on the license and pull the kind of BS that WotC/Hasbro are trying with the OGL.

The Bad?

That said, I still have some concerns, and I will definitely be waiting to see the final details of the ORC license.

My greatest worry at this point revolves around how whether the ORC license will follow the structure and scope of the OGL, particularly when it comes to the delineation of Open Game Content vs. Product Identity in the context of non-copyrightable material.

One of the major problems with the old OGL - discussed at length in this EFF article - is that it claims to be giving you the right to use 'the game mechanic and includes the methods, procedures, processes and routines' of the d20 system, but as a matter of fact, game mechanics are non-copyrightable. As such, all the license really gives you is the right to reproduce the exact wording used but WotC in the SRD to describe the game system, and in return you sign away any rights you may have had to using the content delineated as Product Identity. As the EFF article puts it (emphasis added),

For most users, accepting this license almost certainly means you have fewer rights to use elements of Dungeons and Dragons than you would otherwise. For example, absent this agreement, you have a legal right to create a work using noncopyrightable elements of D&D or making fair use of copyrightable elements and to say that that work is compatible with Dungeons and Dragons. In many contexts you also have the right to use the logo to name the game (something called “nominative fair use” in trademark law). You can certainly use some of the language, concepts, themes, descriptions, and so forth. Accepting this license almost certainly means signing away rights to use these elements. Like Sauron’s rings of power, the gift of the OGL came with strings attached.

In short, the original OGL is kind of a lie - it makes it seem like you need a license for content that is non-copyrightable, and then offers you the opportunity to sign away your rights to use other content in return for the right to use content you already had the right to use. All you gain from signing the OGL is the ability to use some exact wording used by WotC in the SRD, plus the reassurance that you know some of the terms on which WotC will not sue you. It's as much a threat as it is an offer.

Now the one thing that does give me a bit of hope for the ORC license in this regard is that Paizo's statement does seem to suggest that they are aware that the main value of the OGL is in being able to exactly reproduce the original language - see the following quote (my emphasis):

When we needed to quickly bring out Pathfinder First Edition to continue publishing our popular monthly adventures back in 2008, using Wizards’ language was important and expeditious. But in our non-RPG products, including our Pathfinder Tales novels, the Pathfinder Adventure Card Game, and others, we shifted our focus away from D&D tropes to lean harder into ideas from our own writers. By the time we went to work on Pathfinder Second Edition, Wizards of the Coast’s Open Game Content was significantly less important to us, and so our designers and developers wrote the new edition without using Wizards’ copyrighted expressions of any game mechanics. While we still published it under the OGL, the reason was no longer to allow Paizo to use Wizards’ expressions, but to allow other companies to use our expressions.

If this mindfulness of the actual value of the OGL translates over to the final wording of the ORC license, then we can hope that this license will be more explicit about what it covers and what it cannot cover, about what rights you already have and what rights you would be giving up by signing the license.

However, until I see the actual wording on the license, I will still be worried that it'll end up reproducing this basic problem of the OGL - i.e. obscuring the rights third party creators already have without any license, re non-copyrightable content, in order to coerce third party creators into signing on to the license even if they don't need to "just to be safe".

While I'm sure this will not be Paizo's intent, I still won't be entirely satisfied until I see the final license in all its glory.

Summary

All told, I would still rather see TTRPGs move onto Creative Commons or other well-established open licenses, but I do understand the desire to create a license that's particular to the needs of the TTRPG community, and from everything I've seen of it, the ORC license seems well situated to satisfy this niche. I will need to see the final license before all my concerns are laid to rest, however, and a number of further concerns remain - in particular, given Hasbro will never let D&D fall under the ORC license, will the brand identity of D&D and the financial power of Hasbro be able to win out over the good of the community? Or will enough new content growing out of the ORC license be able to swing the scales back away from Hasbro and lead to a diversification and return to the community of TTRPG content?

I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

[jmagnabo92]

It’s A Twin Thing - Ch 3

Trevor and Jeremy bond and tell embarrassing stories of each other to the women ghosts, including the Great Switch Fiasco of ‘97.

AO3

***

Of course Trevor wasn’t going to be the only embarrassed one in the living room, hence the brothers trading their most embarrassing stories and until the last one that Jeremy tells because Trevor just has to interrupt, “Wait a second, that one wasn’t me.  That happened to you!”

Jeremy smirks.  “Well, everyone thought I was you – so I think it counts.”

“It doesn’t count as an embarrassing story for me when it was actually you.”

“I think it does because you got teased about it and never corrected anyone,” Jeremy counters.

“Fair,” Trevor says, laughing.

“Exactly how many times did you two switch places?” Alberta asks.  

“Oh, based on the number of stories that Trevor has told me – all of the time.  I am still certain my theory is true,” Hetty offers, getting confused looks from Alberta and Flower.

“Theory?” Jeremy questions.

Trevor hums.  “She thinks that we switched the day I died.”

Jeremy laughs.  “So, you think he’s really Jeremy, and I’m really Trevor?”

“It is entirely plausible as none of us knew Trevor or you.”

Jeremy smiles.  “I’m impressed that you think I could pull it off for twenty-two years, since I would have the more difficult job if I were actually Trevor pretending to be Jeremy, but I can honestly tell you that we did not switch that day.”

“It’s not like we switched all of the time.”

“Exactly.  We only really switched when we wanted to have some fun – liven things up and believe me, none of those switches happened at Trevor’s office or whenever he had one of his parties with his bros after the Great Switch Fiasco of ’97.”

“That sounds juicy,” Alberta says, eagerly.  “And embarrassing.  You must tell us.”

“Oy vey, please don’t,” Trevor begs.  He did not want them finding out about Ari this way.  

Jeremy gives him a look.  “They don’t know?”

“It wasn’t really something I went around announcing – especially with … everything,” Trevor says, knowing Jeremy would know what he’s referring to.  

Before Jeremy could respond, Flower jumps in with, “Is this about you and Ari?  Because Alberta and I have known about that for years.”

“Wait – what?”

“Why are you surprised – we’ve literally talked about this?” Flower asks, confused.  “We’re best friends – we talk about everything… well, not everything…most things.”

“I’m not surprised about you – I’m surprised about Alberta.”

“Really, Trev?  As your ghosts’ roommates knew – your sexcapades were fun to watch,” Alberta states.  “And I wanted to be entertained.  Besides, I didn’t get to watch the first year because Flower kept it a secret, but after that –”

“Oh my god,” Jeremy says.  “You watched him have sex?”

“Well, yeah, it was entertaining.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense – most ghosts are clearly voyeurs.”

“You say that until you hear about what happened the night before the memorial,” Trevor says, shivering.  “Oy gevalt, now that is in my head.”

Jeremy is giving him a questioning look, when Hetty huffs.  

“I thought you let that go – we were just making sure that all of your efforts to reunite your parents were not for naught.  Particularly since your father had already made a complete dunce of himself by taking that work call and you had to sext him to get things back on track.”

Jeremy nearly chokes on his sip of water.  “Is she saying what I think she’s saying?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“You watched our parents have sex?”

“NO!  I just wanted to get them back together – I got the hell out of there as soon as it seemed possible.”

There’s a lot of overlapping conversation regarding what happened during that visit, which got more and more confusing, so Trevor eventually stopped all talk by telling the whole story of what happened during the memorial weekend, including his and Sam’s plan to get their parents back together and finishing with him realizing that it wasn’t his death that caused the divorce.

“You were always the hopeless romantic – I can’t believe you didn’t notice how awkward they were as we grew up,” Jeremy states.  “It was so obvious that I assumed that they had already gotten divorced, and dad just didn’t want to move.”

“Yeah, well – I didn’t realize it, okay?  They seemed … perfect…”

“It’s not terrible to believe the best in people, and at least it worked on one of us,” Jeremy offers.  “They just didn’t want to upset us – mainly, you, because they knew it would.”

“You weren’t upset?”

“When I first realized it – yeah, but I recovered quickly,” Jeremy offers.  “Although, do you remember the year we decided to throw them a fantastic anniversary party?”

“Yeah, when we were sixteen?  They were celebrating twenty years – that was the year that we convinced Uncle Charlie to send them to Hawaii as a treat …”  it takes a second for him to realize.  “Oy vey.”

“Yeah, that was my attempt at getting them back together – so I am not surprised that you attempted the same thing,” Jeremy states.

“That was way better than my attempt.”

“But it didn’t work.”

“Yeah, but it was still a better attempt.  They did come back a lot happier.”

“To be fair, you were at a disadvantage.  I mean, I spent months planning with you and Uncle Charlie, and you had a day where you couldn’t actually do anything since you’re a ghost and relied entirely on Sam and Jay – and hoping that mom and dad didn’t find things too awkward.”

“Plus, it worked,” Flower says.  “It just got ruined by Tara Reid.”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Jeremy states with a grimace.  “I didn’t realize that was going to happen, but I figured if you’re here – it could be… nice.”

“It was nice – until the end,” Trevor states.  Then he leans over and whispers, “And someone tried to pretend that she didn’t remember who Tara Reid is when she walked in.”

Hetty huffs.  “I cannot remember everything.”

“Uh-huh, or you just wanted my attention because I was busy with my parents and the memorial.”

“It worked,” Hetty states, smugly.

Jeremy laughs.  “You two are adorable.  I still can’t believe you managed to find a girlfriend in the afterlife.”

As Hetty had moved behind him to sit on the arm part of the couch, she squeezes his shoulder.  “It surprised us both, too.”

“But it’s been a good thing,” Trevor says, leaning his cheek against her hand before turning to kiss it.

“It wasn’t surprising to me – I thought it was only a matter of time,” Flower states, smugly.

“Really?  You seemed pretty surprised when it came out,” Alberta asks.  “I’m still trying to figure out how I didn’t know.”

Flower laughs.  “I was surprised that I didn’t already know.  I feel like I should’ve known.”  Then she looks up at Trevor.  “We’re supposed be best friends, Trev, you’re supposed to tell me everything!”

“And I would have – but considering how everyone reacted, keeping it a secret was probably a good decision while we figured things out.”

Of course, they hadn’t exactly figured things out, but they knew that they were committed to each other, and they want to be together, confiding in each other and supporting one another.   And Trevor had only kept things a secret because he was trying to respect Hetty’s wish for secrecy.  He’d thought about admitting that their fight had been faked to Flower after that chaos but had deciding against it.

“I wouldn’t have judged you,” Flower mutters, obviously upset.

“I know, but it was just… better to figure things out in private.”

“Besides, sneaking around is hot, as Trevor would say,” Hetty offers.  

Jeremy grins.  “Well, he is an expert at it.”

“Ooooh, dish,” Alberta says, quickly.  “Does this have something to do with the Great Switch Fiasco of ’97?”

“It does, actually,” Jeremy says, cheerfully.  “And it’s funny now, but it was not funny then.”

“Please don’t tell the story,” Trevor begs.

“Do tell!” Alberta says with Flower humming in agreement.

Jeremy grins, devilishly at Trevor.  “Hetty can either tie it or break the tie.  What’s your vote, Hetty?”

Hetty looks back and forth between the pleading Trevor and the hopeful Flower and Alberta.  Knowing that Jeremy’s going to tell the story anyway, Trevor gives her a slight smile.

“Out voted again, my dear.”

Alberta and Flower cheer as Jeremy launches into the story.  

Jeremy had been visiting that weekend, and as always when he visits, Trevor tries a little too hard to get him to ‘let loose’ and as a result is always hungover Monday morning while Jeremy laughs at him.  Generally speaking, Trevor asks Jeremy to step in for him before lunch – there were always these awful and useless Monday morning meetings that he just had to be present for and that way he could get better and return to actually working after lunch.  

Usually, Trevor and Ari went out to lunch together (which ‘Jeremy’ would join them for in these switching times) and rewarded themselves for making it through those meetings afterward.  Thus, Trevor had never told Jeremy about this little fact – since he hated the thing Trevor and Ari had going on – and Trevor usually got to the office in time to enjoy the reward and lunch as they would make the switch during lunch without Ari noticing.

Unfortunately, on that particular Monday, the meetings ended early, and Ari had apparently decided the reward should be before lunch.  So, he invited ‘Trevor’ into his office once it ended and had immediately gone for it – kissing and touching Jeremy, who was so surprised that it took him a few minutes before he slid away.  Unfortunately, Ari had thought it was part of one of their games and since Jeremy didn’t know the code word, he had chased after him.  

Well, that was until Jeremy kneed Ari in the crotch and Trevor appeared in the doorway, unfortunately not alone.  Others had heard the chaos and were worried about what was going on.  It didn’t take long before everything was figured out.

All three of them had gotten into serious trouble – Ari for trying to have sex with Jeremy in his office, Jeremy for assaulting Ari (even if he was defending himself), and Trevor for having Jeremy stand-in for him since he technically broke his job contract.  Ari and Trevor had both been lucky to keep their jobs (and were banned from being alone together in the office while their thing was going on – well, at least for a while), and because Ari knew how important Jeremy was to Trevor and that he’d been wrong to chase after him (even if they played those types of games often) hadn’t gotten him into trouble.  Although Jeremy was banned from the office after that – and Trevor had to constantly answer questions that proved his identity whenever he went in for months.  

The Fiasco had taught them to be a bit more careful with switching lives.

“And so, never again – at the office.”

“To be fair, it was hot sneaking around at the office,” Trevor states.  “I just – learned that you have to be careful.”

“If you had told me that you and Ari had decided that Mondays you have sex in his office after those horribly boring meetings, I would’ve never gone in his office!”

“It had been working for years – and I – I wasn’t anticipating that happening, okay?  I was pretty sure he knew when we traded places.  I didn’t think I had to worry that he would – you know.”

“Yeah, well, he did,” Jeremy states, sourly.  “He was a terrible bed buddy, and I can’t believe he couldn’t tell the difference – besides, he should’ve known better since it wasn’t the first time.”

“Ooooh, when was the first time?” Flower asks, excitedly.

Trevor groans.  “We were in college – our first semester at Penn, and we had started fooling around, mainly when we’d been drinking, but hadn’t established anything.  Jeremy had surprised me with a visit and since the door was open to my room, he just entered like he owned the place…”

“…Ari was there, just doing his thing, but got excited to see me.  It was clear that he was already a little tipsy and he had assumed that I was Trevor because somehow, he didn’t realize we were twins.  And I went along with it – until he kissed me.”

“You shouldn’t have answered to my name!”

“We ALWAYS answer to each other’s name!  Besides, you didn’t tell me you were sleeping with your roommate!”

“That’s because we were just fooling around!”

“Yeah, well, you know – if you had told me…”

“Alright!  Alright!  Fair enough,” Trevor states.  “Besides, he certainly became more vigilant after that – man, you realize that’s twice you kneed him?”

“He’s lucky I don’t make it a third time after finding out about the lake.”

“You can’t go and knee him just because he threw my body in the lake – besides, the sort-of blackmail worked in our favor since it helped Sam and Jay keep the house and we got back at him during the watch thing.”

“You’re going to have to explain that.”

“It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time.”

[kinsleymorrison]

10 Factors To Consider Before Ordering For A Canapes Catering Service In Singapore

Food – it's the universal language that can spark conversations, forge connections, and lead to some seriously memorable belly rubs (the good kind, of course!). When throwing a shindig in Singapore, you want your guests to be doing more than just shaking hands – you want them shaking with delight after indulging in some top-notch canapés. 

These bite-sized wonders have a way of waltzing their way into everyone's hearts. So, before you go diving fork-first into the world of canapés catering, here are ten tips to chew over that won't lead you down the path of finger food fiascos.

1. The Canapés Connoisseur Conundrum

Picture this: you're standing at the buffet table, trying to decide which canapé to try first. It's like a culinary version of picking your favourite child. But fear not! Choose a catering service that boasts a menu as diverse as your Spotify playlist – from savoury to sweet and everything scrumptious in between.

2. Ingredient Investigation

Just like you'd swat away a mosquito at an outdoor picnic, you want to make sure the canapés you're nibbling on don't leave you swatting away disappointment. Opt for a catering service that sources the freshest, top-quality ingredients, ensuring each bite is a delightful surprise and not a "What did I just put in my mouth?!" moment.

3. Customisation Celebration

Planning an event isn't just science – it's an art. Your catering service should be your partner in crime, ready to customise the canapés to fit your event's theme, dietary quirks, and the particular quirkiness of your guests' palates.

4. The Art of Edible Elegance

Seek out a caterer who knows their way around the kitchen and understands the art of plating – because when your canapés look like miniature works of edible art, your guests will take Instagram pics before even taking a bite.

5. Experience: Not Just a Buzzword

Experience isn't just a fancy word you slap on your LinkedIn profile – it's your golden ticket to a stress-free event. Go for a canapés catering service with a proven track record of turning out finger food feasts that leave taste buds high-fiving each other.

6. Staff that Sparkle

You know the type – the waitstaff who can make you feel like royalty while juggling a tray of champagne flutes like a circus performer. A catering service worth its salt (and pepper) will have a team that's as friendly as your next-door neighbour and as efficient as a caffeine-loaded espresso machine.

7. Timing is Tantalising

You've got your guest list, playlist and witty anecdotes lined up. But without timely delivery and setup, your event could go from 'party of the year' to 'table of disappointment' quicker than you can say "pass the canapés." Opt for a caterer that is known for their punctuality – because nobody likes a late nibble.

8. The Budget Boogie

Let's talk moolah, shall we? A catering bill that leaves you clutching your pearls is never a good look. But remember, it's not just about the numbers – it's about what you're getting in return. Look for value, not just the cheapest option, because let's face it, you get what you pay for, and you want your canapés to be the talk of the town (in a good way).

9. Food Safety Fiesta

Nobody wants a party pooper, especially when it comes to food safety. Guarantee your chosen catering service follows all the hygiene and safety regulations because nothing kills the mood faster than a stomachache-induced dance floor evacuation.

10. Communication is the Real MVP

Planning an event can feel like herding cats sometimes. A catering service that's a breeze to communicate with is worth its weight in gold. You want someone who listens to your ideas, gives you honest feedback, and doesn't disappear into the Bermuda Triangle the moment you sign on the dotted line.

Wrap It Up – Or Rather, Unwrap It!

So, there you have it – a crash course in the tantalising world of canapés catering in Singapore. From picking the right menu to ensuring the waitstaff doesn't moonlight as jugglers, these tips will have you hosting an event that will have your guests singing your praises – and your canapés' praises – for days to come. 

Contact Orange Clove at (+65) 6515 0991 if you want to order a canapes catering service in Singapore!

[husbandhoshi]

me booping you as a monthly checkup (which is smth im doing frm today onwards) :D

HOWS LIFE LILY???? HOWS SCHOOL???? WHICH YEAR OF MED ARE YOU IN NOW???? - okay too many caps locks, anyways-

idk if you celebrate but how was good friday and easter? did you have fun? how was your weekend? have you been busy at the hospital a lot? HAVE YOU DRUNK WATER TODAY POOKIE 👹👹

any gossip around you we (or i) should know about? dame im starting my 3rd year in a bit and im STRESSED. med school is tough man 😭😭

ive been so fucking busy, i didnt even know there was a follow to incheon the past weekend 😭

OH AND OMG I HAVE TO TELL YOU THIS

remember the two girls and their boyfriends (from my uni) i told you about some time ago? the one where the boyfriends grab hold of the other girl instead of their girlfriends? IT HAS FUCKING ESCALATED

apparantly - im renaming them as olivia (ex boyfriend justin) and jane (ex boyfriend mathew) - olivia and justin were "engaged" since they were younger?? its like a tradition of sorts in their caste to betroth the girl to someone once they start menstruating. so like olivia got betrothed to justin when she was like 14? i think. justin did like olivia A LOT like he was booktok smitten in love with her. and then like when the two of them started university with like a bunch of other people, justin met jane in his freshman orientation. they sat beside each other and they hit off.

jane met mathew in one of her classes and it seemed like she shared multiple of her classes with mathew so they kept on talking and then eventually got into a relationship. and then mathew saw olivia in the garden once and found her "pretty" and started making conversations with her (mind you mathew was already well into the relationship with jane) and so they started conversing and now olivia starts gaining feelings for the guy and becomes confused because "how can i have feelings for two people at once?" so this went on for like a good year. olivia and justin being in a relationship with jane and mathew are in a relationship. all while jane and justin were hanging around each other a lot and olivia would still be very fucking confused about her feelings because of the CONSTANT FLIRTING from mathew.

and then second term of sophomore started (post winter break), sophomores were planning to get drunk somewhere and olivia didnt want to go. shes not really big on alcohol and parties. jane, justin and mathew went (all of them went separately). fast forward to i think a few hours later, all three of them are piss drunk and someone spikes their drinks. jane and justin go to one of the private rooms to have sex and mathew continues getting piss drunk. drunk mathew misses olivia so he goes to her dorm, she lets him in, he has a bit of water, they have sex.

i dont think i mentioned something.

olivia doesnt know mathew is in a relationship with someone.

mathew doesnt know olivia is in a relationship with someone.

jane doesnt know justin is in a relationship with someone.

justin doesnt know jane is in a relationship with someone.

olivia is entirely SOBER when she lets mathew have sex with her.

this going behind each others back goes on for months until the fist fight thingy that happened.

and then, olivia and justin go home from uni on a break and yk how word spreads FAST right? their parents already knew about their infidelity before they even reached home. the engagement is called off. olivia is transferring to another uni in a different continent entirely. justin still goes to my uni. about jane and mathew? no one knows where they vanished actually. like they're no where to be found after the fist fight fiasco.

thenkiu for reading my tedtalk lily 🤓

~ rai 😘

RAIIIIII hello babe i am so sorry i took forever to answer this 😭😭😭😭 i had to dig in and pull out my actual computer to dissect this TEA…

im good!!! im starting my third year at the end of the month :) just waiting for the results of my big test to come in bc that will determine whether or not i get to start 😬 we’ve been studying for this exam for quite some time so no gossip or hospital stories to share :(( literally my life has been waking up studying and then going to sleep. but i just came back from a trip to nyc which was super fun !

and yes i did celebrate easter w my family!!! we did a seafood boil which was SOO good! what did you do?

ok ok after reading the drama update i am SEATED. first i know there r cultural reasons for getting betrothed / engaged etc so early but i think this is just confirmation that No One was ready 😭😭 honestly it breaks my heart bc it sounds like there were really Real feelings involved in all of this but the fact that no one could keep their hands to themselves 😬 Telling! plus the like 0 communication KILLS ME!!! please don’t stay together then!!!! also i’m side eyeing mathew bc he sounds selfish and from what i understand initiated a lot of the drama???? idk but transferring schools and disappearing is CRAZY too…… sheesh

i had a similar situation happen to my friends in high school where friend A had been on/off dating boy A for years and years (on/off bc her parents didn’t approve). her best friend B had been crushing on boy B for years but didn’t move in on it bc she was scared he didn’t reciprocate. so friend A and boy A are on a break and allegedly friend A invites boy B to her place and they sleep together. friend B finds out and to retaliate sleeps with boy A at her bday party. then they both mutually blocked each other after not saying a WORD abt it to each other & just hearing ab things thru word of mouth. crazy how people can just turn on each other like that

drama ASIDE. how are you?? i know you’re busy but is it a good busy??? i hope you have time to enjoy urself!!