#How To Avoid Divorce Court | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

georgiapeach30513 · 10 months ago

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Two Good Reasons, Part 4

Summary: it is time

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings: language, sweet Ransom, difficulties with divorce, Scott, difficult conversations, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 8.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Ransom,” the man rolls his eyes as Andy walks into his office foyer. Ransom was trying to talk to you, well, you are trying to talk to him about his messages from when he was in court. Of course your annoying boyfriend or whatever he is would come in and interrupt. “I need to speak to your office manager,” you playfully snort, while Ransom’s face falls flat. His eyes narrow at Andy. “Please.”

“I don’t want this to become a habit,” he tells Andy more than you. You aren’t the problem. Andy’s distraction and wandering eyes are the problem. “In fact, I never saw you venture this way much at all unless we needed to discuss a case. And now, you can’t stay away from my part of the office building.”

“It seems a fair trade off since I, the district attorney, come to your office for meetings. If you’d prefer, we can start conducting the meetings on the other side of the building.”

“Five minutes.”

“Ten.”

“Eight,” Ransom counters before Andy gives a nod, and holds out his hand for you. Leave it to Andy to start inserting himself now. You follow him down the long hallway before he’s dragging you into his suite, and on back to his office. His office is more your typical lawyers office, while Ransom’s is immaculate and more ornate. Stark difference between the two best friends, or as they call it, colleagues.

Andy pulls you in for an embrace, in lieu of a kiss. His thick arms wrap around you so tight, and you sink into him. It had been a particularly rough night. Night’s before your babies go to Scott’s for the weekend often are. It’s a pure terror and worry about what could happen, especially given the last time.

“You seem tense,” he says as he pulls back. “Your messages indicate that as well.”

“You’re almost too observant, you know that?” It was his job to be observant, but you aren’t one of his cases.

“And you’re avoiding my question.”

“It wasn’t a question, Andrew, that was a statement,” he sighs, pulling you back into him. Andy starts swaying the two of you to nonexistent music. Resting his face in the crook of your neck. He inhales your sweet scent deeply. If only things concerning Scott weren’t stressful, you could fully enjoy this moment.

“You can trust me to tell me,” he ends his words with a quick kiss on your sensitive skin. This is Andy, you could trust him. He’s not just any man, he’s your Andy. You just fear he’s going to try to fix everything, and unfortunately you didn’t see this being fixed.

“It was a rough night,” he hums, letting you know he is listening, but wants more. “It’s Scott’s weekend, and every time it’s his weekend, I’m left wondering how present he’s going to be. If his stupid bimbo will be there. Will they go against my wishes and she brings her damn cat around my baby? Will he come back home to me, and I have to go through his breathing treatments again? I fear that his apartment isn’t as safe for him. That cat is just one allergy, but what if my baby eats something, and Scott or Taylor don’t react fast enough?”

Your breath is so ragged as you cling to him. When was the last time you had someone just be there? Even if Andy couldn’t fix anything, just having that support is comforting. Scott was there, but was he ever there just for you? Andy doesn’t have to say anything, there’s nothing he can do. But him just being there means everything. Just to have a support system in what feels like years is a relief. Realizing you didn’t have that when you and Scott were together makes you feel stupid. You stayed, and you didn’t have this.

“Doe, I’m sorry,” he doesn’t have to be sorry, but there is a tone in his voice that shows you how sincere he is. “Tell me what you want me to do, and I will.”

“Could we just go to your place?”

“Your place is closer to Scott’s though, isn’t it?” It is. But…, “Wouldn’t it be better to be at your place in case of an emergency? We could get there faster?” True, but you didn’t want him to know that you didn’t sleep in your room. You didn’t care if Andy stayed at your house all weekend, but the embarrassment is already hitting that he’s going to see you avoid going into that room.

“You’re right,” of course he’s right, but your feelings aren’t wrong. They were right, too. Too soon your phone vibrates, and it’s probably Ransom telling you that eight minutes is up, and yes, you know. But you needed this moment, and little talk. Grabbing your phone, you answer it quickly, “Hello?!”

“Mrs. Huffman,” you hate that name with a passion, “Umm, I’m calling because it appears that someone forgot to pick up the kids.”

“What?” Anger laces through your one word question. Today is your late day working. Because you said you could. And Scott forgets the kids?

“Yeah, I know you said that it was Mr. Huffman’s day to get them this morning, but he’s not answering his phone,” you glance up at Andy who is looking at you with so much concern. “Can…”

“I’ll be right there,” she thanks you before you hang up the phone. “Scott didn’t pick up the kids. But…”

“Just bring them back here,” he’s joking. He’s got to be joking. “Listen, it’s Friday, Ransom doesn’t have any cases, and neither do I. We give that to the second ADA. Afterwards if Scott still hasn’t reached out, we’ll go take them to get dinner, and soft play. Audrey seems very concerned with that.”

“Andy…”

“Come on, let’s tell Ransom. You gotta get the kids,” obviously you had to get them. It’s bringing them back here that’s got you a bit paranoid. “It’ll be fine. They’ll be fine. We’ve got a fridge stocked with snacks. While you’re gone I’ll put any snack that Suede is allergic to up in a basket, and out of reach of him. And don’t you dare ask why I’m being nice. You need it. Go on, run and get the kids, I’ll let Ransom know what’s up.”

Standing on your tiptoes, you give him a chaste kiss in thanks before going to get your things, while Andy goes back to Ransom’s part of the office building. His friend and colleague glares at him. “I send you off with my office manager, and you return solo.”

“Scott forgot to pick up the kids,” Ransom groans, “She’s going to get them.”

“Today was her late day.”

“And she’s bringing them back here,” another groan. “Would you quit being so dramatic? They’re good kids. You won’t even notice them.”

“You’re getting involved,” Andy’s mouth curls up into a smile. “I told you not to get involved. This is the very opposite of not getting involved, Andy.”

“What was she supposed to do? He didn’t get her kids, they have to be picked up, it has to be her.”

“That’s not what I mean at all. I would have let her go, I’m not a monster,” he takes a slow calculated breath as he stares at Andy, “She’s the one, hmm? The one that got away. The one that made you never truly connect to other women? The reason that Penny or Melanie or whoever never worked out. You’re doing whatever you have to to make sure that she doesn’t get away again?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Ransom gives Andy one of his famous eye rolls. “I’m not a child. I know her, she knows me. So yeah, things are moving fast-ish. No, we haven’t slept together again. She needs friends. Her family isn’t anywhere near here, and even if she wanted to leave, she has this divorce,” Andy makes it sounds so much simpler than it is. Or maybe it’s because it is exactly this simple.

“Okay, Romeo. I’m just saying. She’s bringing them back here?” Andy smiles, nodding. He has to fix the snacks, and make sure everything is safe for Suede. “I don’t do kids.”

“Send them to my office if you have to,” Ransom was all bark, and no bite. He had no doubt that everything would be fine. And you wouldn’t be put in a bind. Yet, another thing you can add to your growing list of why Scott didn’t deserve full custody of your children.

Andy leans into Ransom’s waiting area, smiling to himself as you hold a slowly drifting asleep Suede in your lap. His face squished up against your chest while you type, and Audrey colors something on the floor. Laying on her belly with her tongue sticking out, and her knees kicking around. Andy clears his throat, and Audrey looks up at him with the biggest grin, “Andy! I wanted to see you.”

She leaves her coloring book behind as she jumps up from the floor and walks over to him, and Suede’s eyes burst open, “Na Na! Peas?” You can’t hide how happy you are for their excitement. Suede wiggles out of your arms, and Andy picks both kids up, and you gulp. Scott never quite gave you the tingling millions of butterflies in your belly just to see him hold onto your kids.

You aren’t sure how something can be both wholesome and sexy all at the same time. But the way his thick arms flex as he holds them has you feeling things, and the way he smiles at them has those butterfly wings flapping aggressively in your belly. Moments like these are so sweet and simple, and mean the world to you.

The way he gives each one attention, and not just your talkative girl. Asking them how their day was, and listening intently to every nonsensical word, and um that comes out of your baby boy’s mouth. He isn’t even looking at you for approval, he’s just being a normal father figure to them kids. This is how greetings with them after their day should be. When Audrey tries to interrupt, he tells her to wait her turn, looking at you to make sure it’s okay to correct her behavior and you nod. You hope that this isn’t an act, and you don’t feel it is. It’s natural.

How is it that a man that had no biological ties to these children can appreciate them more than their father? Scott wasn’t a terrible husband, when it was just the two of you. But his lack of involvement as a father was laughable. You were the woman, you were the one that took care of the house, and the children. All you wanted was a partner. Staring at Andy now makes you realize how wrong you chose, and just how long you made excuses for Scott.

“Andy,” Audrey finally gets his attention when Suede finishes. “If daddy doesn’t pick us up tonight, can you go eat with us? Mommy said we can eat at the pizza place, and and and go to soft play.”

Andy smiles. He starts to answer, but is distracted by a chubby little hand laying flat on his beard, and he turns to look at Suede, “Chess, pease,” you turn around quickly. You promised yourself that you’d never let your children see your emotions, but your chest fills with so much warmth and love. Feeling everything all at once. Suede only touched two people’s cheeks like that, and both you and Audrey are present. It’s like he has chosen another comfort.

You were told it could be a way for him to show comfortability and vulnerability, but he never did that with his dad. He never stayed in his dad’s arms for more than a few minutes before he was trying to reach towards you. Visiting Scott was the hardest on Suede. “Doe?”

“I’ve got to take something to Ransom. I’ll be back,” you grab some stupid piece of paper, and retreat from this. Trying to work through the emotions. On one hand you are a bit jealous that Suede found comfort in someone that isn’t you. On the other hand he had a man in his life that he trusts, and it is Andy. Your Andy.

“I need a snack.”

“Chess!”

“How does broccoli and ranch sound?” Audrey curls her lip, and Suede shakes his head no. “Well, I have you to know, that Sloane went and brought you back some safe food. And even apples.”

“Mmm, Appies!”

“With sun butter?” Andy nods, carrying the two of them to the break room. He looks back at you, and your back is still turned to him, still looking at a blank piece of paper, still bothered by something that transpired, and he can’t think of what. However, the kids were hungry, and they had to eat. He’ll come back and ask you about this later.

“Come on, it’s snack time, and then,” he lowers his voice, making it only audible for just Audrey and Suede, “I hear there’s a book about a little French girl in Sloane’s desk, you should ask her for it,” Audrey covers her mouth with her hand, giggling while she looks at Suede.

They sound so happy. You didn’t ask or beg Andy to spend time with them, he came to see them. He made sure that the unsafe foods were away from Suede. He was telling them secrets about the office. If you didn’t already have feelings for Andy that bordered on love — you’d have them now. You hated to admit that you still harbored feelings for him, but you did. And moments like these just made that blossom and get bigger until parts of you that felt so alone and hopeless, now feel like there was light at the end of the tunnel.

There was a hope that not only did your children not have to suffer, but you didn’t either. The feeling is like a hug. Simple, warm, loving, comforting, and the best thing in the world. It’s what a family should be, and should feel. Everyday is a new realization that you didn’t have these moments with your family.

“What are you doing?” Ransom asks, attempting to walk out of the door. “I don’t do tears.”

“It’s nothing.”

He blows out an exasperated puff of air. “Nothing doesn’t make you look so — weepy,” his voice is so flat, seemingly disinterested. “But if I can offer you some advice, you should trust him,” you furrow your brows as you look at him. There’s this part of you that doesn’t want to interrupt Andy and the kids, but you want to watch them. “He’s always wanted a family, and from the sounds of it, you’re the only woman he wanted it with. He doesn’t want to fuck it up, so he won’t. So let your walls down, and enjoy the moments. You’re used to his stubbornness and protectiveness, so…”

His voice trails off. He didn’t need to finish the sentence. So he won’t change. So there’s his flaw. So you’ll have to continue to deal with it. So now there’s little people for him to protect. “Oh, and Ray agreed to take your case,” that gets your attention. You straighten up. Ray would make a huge difference for you. Scott even mentioned Ray a few times during your marriage. “So…I don’t know, go make sure Barber isn’t poisoning the allergic one.”

That’s about as soft as you are going to get with Ransom, and you know it. But a quick little break to make sure ‘the allergic one’ is not being fed something he shouldn’t have, would not hurt. Ransom meant well, and you’re so thankful for him. But not as thankful as Audrey jumping up and down at Andy’s feet, while he holds Suede, squinting as he reads the ingredients on the back of a box.

“It’s a safe food,” you answer softly, and he lowers the packet of fruit snacks to Audrey. Suede gives him a little pout, but Andy is quick to grab his own pack, and open it for him.

“Go ask Sloane for her book,” he tells the two of them before they run off, and you immediately circle your arms around his waist. You couldn’t help a hug, and a quick peck to his lips, “What’s this for?”

“For being you,” his lips turn up in a smile, and he reminds you of the way he looked when he was younger. There were more freckles that dotted over his nose, and more wrinkles around his eyes. He is thicker in the best way, a luscious full beard, but the best parts of him are still the same. “I’m serious. You’re amazing with them, and I thank you for learning.”

“You gave Sloane a list of safe foods, didn’t you?” Nodding you stand on your tippy toes for another too quick kiss. Seeing him reading the back of that box was oddly sexy. You don’t regret not telling him that Sloane made a quick trip to the store, and you need to pay her for that. You could look at this man reading the ingredients daily because it was…breathtaking. The older you get, the more things of attractiveness changes. This wasn’t one you saw happening until it did.

“No word from Scott?”

“No. I’m sure he’s in court or something. I get used to not relying on him,” Andy searches your face, contemplating how to respond to that. You shouldn’t have to be used to it. That shouldn’t be normal. “It’s fine.”

“How often was it just you and the kids waiting on him?” You shrug. You didn’t want this conversation. You didn’t want to dwell in the past. Didn’t want to think of how much you let things slide with Scott because you felt you needed to make your marriage work, and he was still the one that stepped out on your family.

“I should really make sure the kids are okay,” if Andy could wrap you in a tight cocoon and make you see what you deserved, he would. He wants you to see your value to his life because to him you and the kids were not a burden. You know you’re a good mom, but did you know you are a good partner?

“I’m going to guess we’ll have the kids for dinner though,” we. He loves hearing you say we, especially when they’re involved. If he could fully take Scott out of the equation, he would. Not only did he not deserve them, or your kindness, Andy didn’t mind having them always around.

He definitely didn’t mind people making comments about what a beautiful family he had. Or even that his son looked just like him, and how he’s so good with them. He didn’t want to correct them. People never questioned it because that’s exactly what you were becoming. He knows he should slow down, and not get too attached or ahead of himself. Not growing up with a father himself, he’s always craved a son where he could be the dad that he wanted.

He sighs, it would only be a matter of time before Scott completely lost interest. Men like him only wanted to use the kids as a weapon for you. He was using custody as a way for you to worry. Asserting his dominance wherever he could. Prick. He’s an asshole. He just hopes that Scott sees who has been spending time with his kids, and just how happy they are, and their mama.

—

Ransom slumps down into his chair, hands reaching towards a file on his desk when he hears tittering, and he bends at his waist to look under his desk, “What are you doing down there?”

Audrey giggles, popping another fruit chew in her mouth, and then a third hand points at the book that’s in her lap. Suede peeks his body around his sister’s smiling up at the man, “I’m not doing a very good job at reading. There’s lots of words.”

“Chess.”

Ransom smiles, nodding his head, “You like to play chess?”

“No no, that um — that’s how he says yes. He says it a lot. It’s easy for him. Tell him Suedey.”

“Chess,” his hand presses over his mouth and he giggles, having to sit up and hold his tummy with how much he is laughing. They are cute kids, even if Ransom doesn’t do kids.

“See, mister. He loves it. Do you think you can read this book for us,” the barely visible smile on Ransom’s face fades, and his head slightly shakes no, “I can’t read, and my mommy is working, and,” she crawls out from under the desk, laying the book on the shiny wood of Ransom’s ostentatious desk.

“Do you think mommy can take us to Paris one day?” Audrey places a hand under the desk, helping her brother up, and Suede places two arms up to Ransom. “He wants you to hold him. You can say no,” Ransom takes a moment to ponder before lifting the toddler up into his lap, but Audrey stands beside him, opening up the book to the first page.

“It has a lot of words,” her finger drags under the words, and Ransom stares at her curiously. Even though she is tiny, you can see her squinting, and sounding out a few of the letters. Reminds him of his childhood, a boy too young, forced to be above children his age academically. “Would Andy take us to Paris with mommy?”

How is he even supposed to answer that? He could put a bug in Andy’s ear that she wants to go to Paris. He could ask Andy to take her to a French restaurant, but he can’t possibly say that he would take them and their mom. “Do you like Andy?”

“Chess.”

“Uh huh. Mommy smiles when he’s around,” the little girl turns to look at Ransom, and he’s shocked by how much she looks like you, especially in the eyes. The exact shape, and even the different flecks of colors. “Is Andy like Taylor is to daddy?”

“I don’t know what that means,” he turns his head to see the little boy smiling at him. He lifts his chunky little hand, and slightly touches his cheek before moving it back down to his lap and giggles at Ransom. “What do you mean by your question?”

“I think Andy wants to kiss mommy,” it is a simple enough sentence that holds a lot more weight than she realizes. Ransom smiles, shrugging at her. “She didn’t smile with daddy like she does with Andy,” Audrey turns to look at Ransom, smiling at him, and then her brother. “I like him, too. But can you read this?” Her little chubby finger taps on the book a bit aggressively, “I’m sorry, booky. Please, Ansom?”

“Ransom.”

“I said that.”

“Ann!” Suede throws both arms in the hair, and giggles. “Ann!”

“Is he always like this?” Audrey covers her hand with her mouth, giggling again, and she nods. “Fine. Let’s read the Paris book,” he clears his throat, making both kids giggle once more. “In an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines.”

“Ran,” opening the door, you stop abruptly, and all three of them look up at you. “Oh, I was wondering where you two were. Come on, we should leave Ransom alone,” all three pout. Even Ransom, confusing you immensely. He told you he didn’t do kids. He didn’t hate them, but didn’t want to be around them. And now he’s reading to them with Suede and his sticky fingers in his lap.

“They're fine. Maybe bring some popcorn in here or something?” Audrey shakes her head no. “Why not?”

“We’ll choke,” she deadpans. “Those scratchy things in the middle. Andy buys us the puffy ones, so we don’t have to worry about choking.”

“Does he? That Andy sure does try to make life easier,” clearing your throat, Ransom looks up at you smiling. “We’re reading about the Paris girl. I think Audrey and Suede deserve macarons.”

“Suede can’t. There’s eggs,” Audrey beat you to it. She is his little keeper, and so protective of him. You are sure she keeps Scott in line with him, even if it isn’t her job. “Mommy, did daddy call?” You shake your head no, thinking she’s going to be sad. “Oh yay! So Andy is taking us to pizza and soft play for sure?”

“We’ll see. Read your Paris girl book. It won’t be long until it’s leaving time. And behave. You want me to leave the door open, Ransom?” He shakes his head, and shoos you out the door. You did not see this happening. Ransom said he didn’t care much for kids, and here he is being all sweet and loving with yours. You wouldn’t tell him, but it suited him, even if it was just as the fun uncle that could give them back at the end of the day.

Even though Scott brought you out here away from your friends and family, you feel the need to give him a quick and silent thank you. It brought you to Andy, and now it appears you are growing an inner circle. People to rely on. People you can trust with your kids. People that don’t look at them like a burden. People that cared. What felt like your world had ended, just ensured a new start that you needed.

“Suede,” your little boy quickly sits down in his seat, offering a sweet smile to Andy. He had already been told once not to stand up in the seat. Andy’s voice is soft, but stern enough that Suede knows he needs to keep his bottom in the seat. “Thank you.”

“Chess,” he holds up his hand out for Andy who fists bumps him in return. Blinking his eyes hard at him before smiling up at you. Leaning in for a hug.

“Was your dinner good, buddy?”

“Chess,” Andy questioned you with the pizza at first, until you told him about this place that was very accommodating for Suede’s allergies. Suede turns to look at Andy, but his eyes go upwards instead. A moment of unease flashes in his eyes, and he leans into your body, “Mama, no.”

Following his eyesight, you catch Scott freeze, seeing the back of Andy’s head, and Audrey sitting beside him. He never looks like he's in a good mood, but now he’s completely unsavory. “What’s going on?”

“Daddy,” Audrey looks at you, and then up at Andy, her happy face now looking sad. “Uhh, Andy is taking us to soft play.”

“Daddy is really tired, and they’re closed. I need to talk with you outside,” he gives a point towards you. Of course he needs to talk to you. Showing up unannounced, and Andy is with you. His nostrils flare a moment with the impending anger that’s lighting up his face. Talk really means he wants to berate you.

“It’s not closed, we saw it. Andy said…”

“Audrey,” while he doesn’t yell, his voice raises, and you grit your teeth. Friday night, and they were looking forward to fun. Leave it to Scott to be a disappointment. Again. Wiping your hands on your napkin, you grab up Suede, handing him over to Andy.

“What the hell are you doing?” Scott turns to look at you as Andy pulls Suede out of your arms. It is becoming harder and harder not to want to scream at him, especially when he uses foul language in front of the children.

“You wanted to talk to me. So Andy can stay with the kids,” the man that has spent every single evening with you and the kids, stares up at you. His free hand rubs up your thigh, and he offers a sad smile, “I’ll be right back,” and his eyes move over to Scott, nodding his hey.

Oh he’s angry. Not nearly as angry as you are for his five hour late pickup. Didn’t even tell you he was coming, just showed up. You can see how angry he is as you follow him to the parking lot. You don’t like to compare the two, but Andy would never deny fun for the kids. He had a long tiring day as well.

You’re barely out of the restaurant when Scott rounds towards you, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Feeding our children dinner since you were late.”

“I was working, and you know exactly what I mean,” you blink slowly. If he wants to say something, he can, but you won’t be offering up any information. “Fucking Andy Barber? The damn DA, is this some competition,” you scoff, there was never a competition. “And you left our kids with him.”

“So you wanted them to hear you talk like this to me?” Scott sighs. You knew he wouldn’t answer the question. You’re always the one that is wrong, while he’s always the one that is wronged in some way. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You sure did move on fast?” You laugh at him, shaking your head as you turn to walk back inside. The audacity. He was moving on and the two of you were very much together. You didn’t have a say in the matter when he was laying underneath the damn babysitter. “Did you ever love me?”

“You were the one that cheated, Scott. You came home early, so you could fuck our babysitter in our bed. Did you even think about me? Or about how our daughter would feel? Suede is too young to understand, but Audrey knows you left her mom to be with the babysitter. Love was never our strong suit though, was it?” The stronger your love for Andy grows, the more you realized Scott and you had been going through the motions. Was there ever any love?

Rolling your eyes, you turn away from him. If this is the only conversation he wants to have, it’s useless. You’re doing nothing wrong. You hadn’t even slept with Andy since that first night. And even if you did, you two were legally separated and going through a divorce. “Suede could be older and still wouldn’t understand.”

“What did you say?” don’t turn around, and don’t look at him. He makes you sick.

“You heard me,” no, you’re not quite you did.

“And what do you mean by that?”

“He’s never going to be as advanced as Audrey,” if it wouldn’t hurt your case for custody, you’d claw his eyes out. If he wants to blame you for the marriage failing, you don't care, but to say one damn thing about your child is another thing. “You coddle him.”

“I hate you,” always your fault. Suede’s ‘delays’ as Scott called them, will forever be your fault. He was supposed to be his ‘boy’ and now he looks at your son like he’s a mistake. A failure. And he’s two.

“Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart. Now let me get my kids from your dildo.”

“Why are you so mean to him? Why do you put so much pressure on your son? He’s a baby.”

“No, he’s not,” you have to look at him now. You need to understand why he can’t just be happy with who Suede is, instead of trying to make him who he wants him to be.

“He just turned two. He is a baby. He wears diapers, his vocabulary is improving, but he is a baby. If you — if you don’t want him why do you insist on full custody? Why do you rip him out of my arms, crying, if you don’t want him? You don’t even like him. I’m not even sure you like Audrey. This a damn power grab, you’re using my babies as a weapon to hurt me. Just leave him with me and…”

“Go on, say it. Andy. Is he enjoying the bed that I fucked that baby boy in you in? You want to act like he’s so fucking grand. Sloppy damn seconds,” you take a deep breath in, wondering how he views you as sloppy seconds but not himself. Or even if Taylor is someone’s sloppy seconds. Pig. “Just trying to replace me because I left you. You even went after a goddamn lawyer,” of course he’d hit you with low blows, and as much as it infuriates you, it hurts more how he is with your baby.

“Answer the questions. You’re changing the subject, and I’m talking about our son. If you don’t want my baby, and he’s so difficult with his allergies, and his separation anxiety, then leave him with his mom!”

“You created a monster! Taylor can’t even deal with him most of the time because all he says is ‘chess’ or ‘my mama at’. Separation anxiety? No, you baby the boy, and made him rely on you so you think it’ll give you a leg to stand on with custody. Audrey was never that difficult, hell she was potty trained at his age. She’s starting to read now. And he’s…”

“He’s a fucking baby, Scott! Just let him stay with me, please!” You’re not above begging when it comes to your children, especially if Scott is getting them when he’s angry.

“No. Because if he stays with you then Audrey — you know how she is with her brother. They don’t like to be separated,” it’s always about the easy child. His pride and joy. The one he whispered to her about how she would become a lawyer someday. Another thing that annoyed you, pressure on a four year old. “They both are coming with me, as per our agreement. So let me get my kids.”

“Can you at least take them to the soft play, and trampolines for thirty minutes?”

“What is the damn deal with soft play? That’s all they ever want to do.”

“Because they’re kids, and they have fun! They want to play with their dad, is that such a wrong thing?” You turn into the restaurant, watching Andy calmly talk to your world. Such a beautiful picture in contrast to what their parents are doing outside. Suede lifts his chubby little hand, and holds it against Andy’s cheek, petting his beard. He waits until Andy smiles at him before pulling it away, and he snuggles into his chest. That was a father’s love. Not whatever the hell Scott is doing.

Despite what Scott wants to imply, there’s nothing wrong with Suede. His learning is delayed compared to Audrey’s, but from his doctors to his teachers, he is just a normal little boy. There’s a sadness that wraps around you knowing that Suede has more comfort with Andy than his own father. A man he’s known his whole life is nothing compared to the man that he barely knows.

“Does Andy play with them?” you look at Scott, and for the first time in a long time, there’s a sadness in his eyes, but it flares back into his competitive composure. If he is so concerned with Andy and the kids, he’s the only one that can fix it. It wasn’t Andy’s problem.

“We both do,” you answer solemnly before opening the door to the restaurant. You aren’t going to listen to him bully you or speak ill of his son anymore. You want him to suffer with the reality that his son is already replacing him with a man that is paying attention to him. You and Andy hadn’t been doing, whatever this is, long, and already Suede treated him like his father.

“Come on,” you try to smile as you reach for Suede. “It’s time to go to daddy’s house.”

“Mama, no,” this is the part that breaks you every time. Hearing him beg you not to make him go to his dad’s grinds your soul in half. You hate thinking that he may blame you, may think you’ve abandoned him. So instead, you just don’t look into his eyes.

“Audrey, grab your coloring sheet if you want to,” she reaches for her sheet as you grab up Suede, and she and Andy scoot out of the booth. Andy has never been part of a switch between you and Scott. It’s also why you preferred he picked them up from daycare. The extra hours with you made things difficult for them to leave. It’s him leaving you that seems to be the issue.

“Mama, no,” you can’t even meet his eyes as he touches your cheek. You know Scott didn’t hurt Suede. You also know he didn’t enjoy him or appreciate him, and with Audrey it is nonstop pressure to read, and write, and whatever thing he felt like she needed to be ahead for. Audrey has to be the best academically, and judging by the earlier conversation, he has no faith in Suede.

“Mama, pease!” He sniffles, cuddling into your chest, and you kiss on top of his head. Bit by bit part of your heart crumbles. The part that you gave your children, and it’s every other weekend. Audrey grabs Andy’s hand as you walk back outside. Getting an eye roll from Scott as soon as he sees Andy with his prized possession. His daughter. “Mama, no,” the first sign of his cries, broken words. “Me tay.”

“It’s stay, Suede. And you can’t stay because it’s my weekend,” Suede screams as Scott pulls at his body. Trying to take him from you. “Suede, enough!” He pulls harder, and his voice reaches a screeching high, shattering that part of your heart as his body shivers from anguish.

“Mommy will get you Sunday.”

“You’re only making this worse,” you hate him, and it has nothing to do with what he did to you, it’s what he’s doing to your children. “Suede, you’re fine,” you bite your tongue, holding back your own tears as he kicks. Thrashing around while Scott buckles him in, and one name on his lips. Mama. Over and over it tugs at your heart. Your baby needs you, and you can’t comfort him without causing more of a scene.

It’s one of the hardest things that you have to do. Ignoring him because it can get worse. You kneel down in front of Audrey, and she jumps into your arms giving you the biggest hug, “Will you make sure that Suedey is okay when you get in the car?”

“Yes, mommy. I’m sorry.”

“Baby, it’s okay. I’ll see you Sunday before supper, okay?” Audrey nods before she walks to her side of the car, getting in her seat herself, but Scott goes to buckle her. She extends a hand over to her crying brother, and more pieces of your heart break.

“Can you text or call and let me know when he calms down?”

“Yeah,” Scott answers shortly, closing Audrey’s door before he goes to the driver’s side. “Guess we can’t go to soft play with a baby that won’t stop crying,” bastard. Blaming Scott’s mistakes on Suede.

“I’ll take them Sunday,” Scott glares at Andy, and you are just numb. The teachers told you that while Suede was sad when his dad picked him up, there was no crying. You hate him for making you hear this. “Doe, let’s go.”

You’re not a person that wants to get even very often, but if you could make him feel like you did right now, you would. And if it is the fact that Andy already said he’d take them out Sunday after pickup that makes Scott hurt, so be it. It kills you to hear his muffled cries still. The fact that he had a good day, and evening, only for it to end with him in so much turmoil only hurts worse. You give a silent prayer that he can soothe himself soon. Scott never liked long crying sessions. He wasn’t patient enough to handle it.

“Your place or mine?”

“I don’t care as long as you hold me,” he opens up your car door, and you jump in, finally letting your tears cascade over your cheeks. You’re thankful you thought to leave Andy’s car at the house because you wouldn’t be able to drive right now. Everything in your body aches. Your his mother, and you couldn’t hold him until his tears stop. He is crying for you, and you have to walk away from him.

“He’s so mean to my baby. I don’t know if he hates him or if he’s ashamed of him,” you suck in a ragged breath, trying to calm your tears. “Suede’s always had health issues. He was born too early, it was a difficult pregnancy, his allergies were caught before he was a year old, now they’re talking about his vision, but he’s just a baby. And he’s usually so happy and full of light, but I think Suede knows that Scott doesn’t love him like he loves Audrey. Why are my kids the ones that have to suffer?”

“Audrey soothes Suede, but she’s a baby herself. She shouldn’t have to. They don’t have fun with their dad. And I don’t know how I could have been so wrong in a father for them. I just — I don’t care about me anymore, I just want them to be okay, and I fear that Suede is just forgotten there. A mistake,” god you hate reliving that day. That moment when that asshole murmured he was a mistake.

“What?” Andy’s voice is so hard. It’s a dangerous timbre.

“He said that Suede was a mistake,” you rest your head on the back of the seat. “It was that day that whatever I felt towards Scott was completely erased. I hated him and it took four words for me to hate him. My kids aren’t mistakes. They’re my everything, and if I have to feel this gut wrenching pain, so they don’t have to, I don’t care anymore. I’ll deal with Scott, but that — that is so hard to deal with, and it makes me feel so small every time because I can’t fix it.”

His hands grip onto the steering wheel too tight. His eyes staring out onto the road before taking a deep breath. He removes a hand, and places it on your thigh. You don’t smile, but you pick up his hand and hold it with both of yours. Weaving your delicate fingers in his, while your right hand clings to his so tightly. He didn’t have to say anything, but you know he’s offering to be your strength.

“I’m tired of this constant fight, and this constant fear that my baby is going to be forgotten, and neglected, and do you know what happens to unattended children? They get into things. Certain things he can get into could kill him,” your breath stutters in your throat. “I don’t think that they let them use the phone to call me as much as they want. It’s just another way to separate us. I call every day. Multiple times a day. Scott maybe calls every other day..”

Lifting up his hand, he kisses over your knuckles. “I just wish I could talk to them before bed, so I knew that they were going to sleep without tears in their eyes,” he kisses your knuckles again as you pull into the driveway. Another long weekend, but this time you didn’t have to spend it alone. Even a little bit of a distraction will help.

“Thank you,” your voice is so hoarse as Andy gets out of the car. He opens your door, undoes your buckle, and lifts you up into his arms. Letting you koala around him as he carries you into the house. It’s the most comforting gesture. Days like this walking is difficult, and he takes that responsibility from you. His comfort couldn’t change anything, but it can give you comfort and support when you just want to stare at nothing.

“I want you in something comfortable in five minutes, and then we’re going to be lazy on the couch the rest of the evening. Audrey told me she was sad because she wanted a slumber party with me, you, Suede, and Ann,” he smirks as you lift your head off his shoulder. Of course he’d get a kick out of Audrey asking him to spend the night.

“Ann?”

“I think that’s what they’ve decided to call Ransom. Go on. Get comfy. I’m just wearing sweatpants, and a t-shirt,” perfect clothes to cuddle him in. Your eyes get heavy just thinking about it. Drop offs like that are draining, and you want to sleep until you get to see them again.

“Old and worn in?”

“It’s the only way to wear it. Go on,” reluctantly you walk away from him. Opening up your bedroom door, and freeze. It’s the same time every time. That stupid blonde girl with her hands firmly on your husband’s chest while her body sucks him into her. No condom. You thought you had been seeing things, but he confirmed it. No condom. And lucky for him, he didn’t transfer anything to you.

So many things you couldn’t forgive him for. He is selfish. He’s disgusting. And you hate him. You hate that he’s the one that is in your kids’ life, and you don’t even know if there will ever be a time that you don’t hate him. You sigh as those thick arms wrap around your waist, and you lean your head back on his shoulder.

“It’s where you caught them,” Andy doesn’t ask, but you nod your head. You hate coming into this room. Everything about it reminds you of that day. He lit candles. There was soft music. And he was staring up at her like she was a goddess. His hands gripped her hips so tightly. Did he ever look at you liked that?

Andy’s lips pepper kisses down your jaw. “When was the last time you slept in here?”

“The night before it happened,” he lets you go. Starting to pull off the clothes from the day. His fingers glide over your skin like the strokes of a paintbrush. Getting you completely naked before he bends down, and pulls out his shirt from the day, and slips it on you.

“Grab you some panties, or don’t,” there’s something so solid in his voice as he walks over to the bed, and yanks off the duvet. Tossing pillows to the side of it. Ripping at every linen that you split tears on as you made the bed one last time. Ending with a pile of bedding, and then he grunts, pulling the mattress off to the side.

“We’re going bed shopping this weekend,” you gasp as you look at him. “Either we get you a new fucking bed, or we buy a house. What do you want to do?”

Kiss him. Make love with him. Why was getting rid of the bed so simple? That makes perfect sense to remove the bed. “Andy, I…”

“I already told you I was going to marry you. And when I do, I won’t be living in this house. But temporarily I need you to sleep in a bed. So, are we going bed shopping or buying a house this weekend?”

“Bed.”

“There’s my girl,” he grins, and you take a few steps to close the gap between you. Wrapping yourself into his warmth. “When you can’t do that anymore, I will be there. I hated that, and I can’t imagine what you’re going through. He’s a callous man, but he won’t win. I may only be a step dad to them, but,” he stutters. Pulling you even closer to him. “I love them, just like I love you. I will fight for both of you, and I understand court order. So I have to be productive where I can. And this is where I start, making sure you get good sleep.”

“Thank you,” you whimper, and he lets you melt into him. Soaking up his scent, and his strength. You needed him, not as another parent, but him. Just to be with you. “I love you, too.”

You let all those walls tumble down because you can’t continue to keep them up. You are one person, and you’re tired of fighting, and this isn’t a fight that was worth it. Why can you not love Andy? Why should you not just let him in, and trust him the way that you did Scott? Because being strong for your kids was making your other walls weaker. Instead of putting up boundaries from Andy, you want him inside your walls as added protection.

“We’ll buy a bed,” you laugh. It’s silly, but it’s freeing. Freeing to admit to yourself and to Andy you love him. You want him, and you don’t have to pretend anymore.

“And a dog.”

“No.”

“There’s dogs that detect allergies.”

“No.”

“Fine, when we buy us a house that we both, and the kids adore, and it has extra space just in case,” you look up at him and how adorable he is with his hope. You couldn’t have kids, but you wish you could give Andy at least one biological child. “We’ll buy a house. After the divorce. Deal?”

“You got a deal.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

#two good reasons #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber fic #andy barber fics #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fanfic #andy barber fanfics #tw: divorce

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redroomreflections · 1 year ago

Text

Not Easily Broken Chapter 1

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

1/10

Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties.

W/c: 2.2k

“Emma has ballet classes on Tuesday and Thursday nights,” Natasha breathes nursing her mug steaming with whatever tea flavor she’s decided to drink this month. She avoids your gaze letting her eyes focus on the steam rising steadily from the cup. She sips waiting for you to answer.

“Okay,” You sigh rubbing your sweaty palms against the leg of your jeans. “I can take Wednesdays with Ryan if you can do Thursday nights with Emma and then we trade Tuesdays?” You suggest looking over to the woman on the other side of the counter.

“No, I have training with Steve on Thursday nights,” She declines.

“Since when?” You ask your eyebrow raised.

“Since forever.” She answers simply. “Besides you are much better at interacting with the other dance moms. Emma will want you there too.” She reminds you.

“Okay,” You say again. “What about carpool? How is that going to work if we’re in separate places? Do we keep them every other night? Switch off on weekends?”

“No, Emma’s finally gotten through her sleep regression we can’t change that now.” Natasha shakes her head. She decides she doesn’t want the tea anymore turning her back to empty it into the sink. She leans against it heavily with her arms folded gazing out of the casement window.

“Nat, we’ve been at this for an hour already,”

She turns to glare at you and if looks could kill you’d be dead.

It’s dark here in the kitchen beside the light illuminating from the stove. You’re both tired and utterly destroyed but you need to do this. You don’t want to put your children in court. Custody battles could get ugly and you want this to go right. Looking at Natasha and the frustrated expression she sports you can tell she’s tired of this too. You glance over to your bags packed and waiting for you to take them. For you to leave. You both agreed you wouldn’t stay during the night anymore only keeping up appearances for the children until you’re ready to tell them. Until Natasha is ready. She notices your looks clenching the edge of the counter.

“Have somewhere to be?”She raises a brow.

“What? No.” You roll your eyes. “I’m just wondering if we’re getting anywhere with this. If we’re doing the right thing.”

“If we’re doing the right thing?” She asks incredulously. “Only one of us has made this decision. Only one of us is working to break up this family.”

“Nat,” You warn. You really didn’t want to go there with her tonight. You can feel the splitting headache at the base of your neck. There’s tension there and you reach up with your right hand to massage the spot. You can practically feel the knots under your fingers.

“Don’t call me that,” She practically spits.

“Fine, fine.” You sigh again. “I’ll take whatever day you want. Just send me their schedules and I’ll try to keep up with it.”

“There’s no try, y/n.” Natasha scoffs. “Either you’re there or you’re not. It’s not so easy to just hop in and out of your children’s lives when you want.” She returns to a defensive stance looking at you challengingly. “Then again I forgot who raised you.”

How dare she? Your jaw clenches slightly as you try to rein in your emotions. Your father was a deadbeat dad who only spent time taking advantage of your love for too long. He would come and go as he pleased only bothering to spend time with you when he wanted to look like the father of the year. You were nothing like him. Nothing like him! As you look into those forest green eyes you can see the dare there. She wants you to say something back.

“I’m not playing into your games,” You shake your head. “There’s never a moment where I haven’t loved our children less than the day they were born. I would never.”

“And yet you’re spending more and more time at the office,” She tilts her head. “Your paperwork sees more of you than they do.”

“Natasha, that’s unfair.” You ball your fists on your side. “You know things at work have been hectic. They know that. I-I try to be there as much as I can. Besides, I distinctly remember you being gone for months at a time for missions when they were young. I don’t see you getting any awards either.”

“Hmm,” She hums. “Seems we both have something in common then.”

“What is this really about, Natasha?” You ask. “Because there’s not much left for us to say or for us to do.” You stand walking over to your bags. You slip your cell phone inside of the carry-on and turn back to her.

“Right, run away like the coward you are.” She mutters.

“What?” You’re taking steps closer to her this time. You don’t realize how close you are until she’s pressed against the counter. Your breaths are practically intermingled and this is the closest you’ve been in months you realize. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Natasha says nonchalantly. “It’s just you have a tendency to run away from your problems. You run when times get hard.”

“And you don’t?”

“Like I said we have a lot in common,” She stands a bit taller. “You don’t have to do this. Any of this I mean. If it gets hard for you. I can take Ryan and Emma and I’ll figure something out with their schedules. I’ll tell them something about you having to work or I don’t know. Just don’t play with their hearts.”

“Dammit, Natasha,” Your hand raises and you don’t miss the way she flinches. You’re not going to hit her. You would never. At that moment you feel like an idiot as you back away from her. “Jesus.” You breathe. “Nat, we can’t keep doing this. Pretending that we love each other. I mean in the beginning, things were so loving and so passionate. I’ve loved every minute of our life together but it’s just…. I…” you stumble to find your words.

“Who says I’m pretending?” She frowns.

“It’s not enough anymore for us to be holding on by a thread,” You drop your hands back to your sides. “It’s not enough for us to be two people in love anymore. That’s not how a marriage works.”

“Is that it? Or I am not enough?” She’s vulnerable at this moment looking at you. Her voice cracks just slightly and you feel your heartbreaking. You’re not heartless and you’re not a monster. You never wanted to make her feel this way. “Did you find someone else?” She asks suddenly.

“I’m not a cheater.” You reply. How could she possibly think she wasn’t enough? Natasha was everything. She’s always been everything. Your everything. Sometimes things don’t work out the way they’re supposed to. That’s why you’re here and after 9 years of marriage and two children, you aren’t taking this lightly. You’ve sat on this for the better part of a year and you decided a divorce was better. You fought more in the past year. Spent more time apart. Kept yourself out of the house more and more. Anything to put some space between the two of you.

“You know that’s really hard to believe when you haven’t been present for a very long time,” Natasha says.

“What? Just because I’ve been away more doesn’t mean I would cheat?”Where would she ever get this idea?

“We haven’t had sex in almost two years,” Natasha points out. Damn! Has it really been that long? Surely you’ve been intimate more recently than that. There was that time a few months ago when you had her against the sink in one of the bathrooms at Tony and Pepper’s anniversary party. No. You’d gotten interrupted and forgotten all about it. “So if you’re not getting it from me you’re getting it from someone else. Just tell me instead of giving me the bullshit excuses you have been. Is it Cara from accounting? She’s sweet. Nice body. Lisa from HR? I bet she eats pussy well enough. ”

“Natasha, I am not a cheater.” Your voice raises and she immediately shushes you. If you wake the children this is going to turn into an even tougher conversation. In a hushed tone, “I can promise you, Natasha I have never cheated on you.”

“So tell me what it is,” Her tone is almost petulant and childlike. She’s frustrated and hurt. The next thing is for her to lash out and you’d much rather leave before she gets to that.

“Nat, I can’t because there’s not just one simple reason,” You try to force your mind to focus on the conversation in front of you. “We aren’t who we used to be. We fight more than we love. That’s not how a marriage should be. It’s not good for the kids and it’s not good for us.”

“And you made this decision all on your own,” Natasha’s voice wavers. Before you can speak again there’s a small voice coming from behind her.

“Mama?”

You both turn to see sleepy green eyes looking up at you.

Four-year-old Emma (four and a half according to her) looks between the both of you as she tries to figure out the situation in this room. She’s holding her favorite blue blanket, the one she’s had since she was a newborn, to her chest. She looks so small in her nightgown with her red hair messy as she trails over to Natasha. Her blanket drags against the ground as she walks. She raises her arms to be picked up and Natasha obliges her.

“What are you doing up, printsessa?” Natasha raises the girl onto her hip caressing her back and head as she rocks her gently.

“I heard yelling,” She pouts looking over to you through her thick lashes. She looks exactly like Natasha despite you having carried her. It’s something you both joked about after choosing her donor. Ryan looks more like you. He’s seven and apparently a much deeper sleeper. “Mommy, are you going somewhere?” Emma asks pointing her chubby fingers over to your door.

“Yeah,” You answer her.

“For how long this time?” She shoots another question.

You look to Natasha for help on how to answer but she simply looks away burying her face in Emma’s hair.

“For a little bit, Babygirl.” You try.

“But I don’t want you to go.” Emma’s pout deepens. “You have to stay and eat breakfast with me, and Mama, and Ryan.”

“Not this time, I can’t.” You say.

“Oh,” She looks down before looking up at you. “Well, when you get back can we have a sleepover in your and Mama’s bed? We haven’t done one of those in a long, long time?” Her voice is hopeful and you can tell she’s fighting her sleep again.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper. You can’t bring yourself to lie to her. You don’t want to be like him. Giving her false hope.

“Tell you what, Printsessa, you and Ryan can sleep with me tomorrow night.” Natasha bounces her on her hip. Emma’s eyes light up at the promise. You’re so grateful she’s taken the lead. She’s had to frequently these days. “Now you can sleep with me tonight too. Go upstairs and get warm and I’ll come and tuck you in.” She releases Emma from her hold and the girl slides down from her body. She begins to run to the stairs before stopping in her tracks. She turns to run and you kneel to catch her in your arms. She wraps her arms around your neck landing a wet kiss on your cheek.

“I love you, Mommy. Come back soon,” It’s a thing you and Natasha used to say whenever she was away on missions. Hearing your daughter utter those words brings tears to your eyes. In your peripheral, you can see Natasha is just as emotional as she wipes the tears away quickly before Emma can see.

“I will,” You manage to get out as you hold her in your arms for a few seconds. Finally, you let go and she takes off running presumably for your bedroom. You stay kneeling before rising to your full height. You reach out to Natasha to comfort her, you’re not really sure why, but you’re expecting her to pull away. She doesn’t. She allows you to pull her into your arms and she buries her face into your neck. You hold her as a sob rack her body. You dare a kiss to the side of her head and she pulls away from you as if she’s been burned.

She wraps her arms around herself defensively. She looks so small at this moment. With her black leggings and her oversized sweater.

“I’m broken, and I’m tired and it’s your fault so please leave.” She doesn’t wait for you to say anything else as she turns to follow the same path your daughter has taken. She trusts you enough to lock the door. As you look around the home you’ve built you can’t help but feel guilty. Everything you’ve built was crumbling and you can’t help but feel it’s all your fault.

----> next part

#natasha x reader #black reader #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha x you #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #angst

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sanccharine · 1 month ago

Text

04 | bad luck

single parent au, neighbours au

pairing: single parent!san x reader genre: word count: 1.5k

warnings: the cheating ex jumpscare

summary:

status: ongoing a/n: thank you katie (@panda-writes-kpop) for motivating me to write, everyone say thank you! that being said this is a rough chapter... you can thank them for that too <3 i kid though, it is rough, no san or danbi i'm afraid

masterlist | chapter 3 | chapter 5

It was too much.

Too much.

The weekend is almost over and what have you accomplished?

After the encounter with San, it was hard for you to do anything. Not to mention just turning back into your house brought you to the sight of the horrid living room and just everything it meant. In addition, your mother called again. You didn’t pick up. Perhaps she’d called to ask how the bedframe was coming along, which in reality was a mess of planks and screws in your bedroom.

Thus, it was another night on the couch.

Even as you closed your eyes, you could feel your forehead overheating like a decade-old laptop with an overworked cooling fan—dysfuntional at best, beyond repair at worst.

There was so much to get through. Everything with your house, the unpacking, setting up your home, what was supposed to be shared with your then soon-to-be spouse had just fallen right through your hands. Now there was sorting the mess that was left behind.

You were grateful that you weren’t actually married, divorce lawyers and a court hearing and the like would have just about ended your life. But then, you were stuck in this weird limbo where nothing has stopped but yet nothing is moving either and it makes it all so very frustrating.

That’s not taking into consideration how people around you will take to the news. How much longer could you continue postponing your calls with your parents? How much longer could you convince yourself that you lied to your mother successfully? How much longer until your father has the chance to say he told you so? How long could you stall until you prove that your hardwork, whatever that meant or whatever it was, was all for nothing?

Your life merely an empty point, taking space as you work through the slog for the sake of it.

And then to tie it altogether, there was your neighbour. A mounting one-sided dislike based on interactions that barely lasted a few minutes. You could feel it. That itching and clawing in your throat, the irrational torrent of thoughts which were borderline corrosive, all of it so immature. Unfortunately for him, San was at the wrong place at the wrong time, prodding a dormant mine in a forgotten field.

Every sentence, every thought, every notion that arises around him has to be deliberated. Filtered, even. He was one more knock away from instigating a breakdown, of what nature was anyone’s guess.

Deep down, you knew he was merely a scapegoat. Taking out your anger, your shame, your regrets on an innocent man who just so happens to be in the vicinity. You needed to avoid him. If not to hurt his feelings, then to at least preserve your dignity.

So that is what you did.

Sleep escaped you. Ruminating on every single mistake was preferred to your mind, and there you were, locked on your couch. Your eyes drooping without ever closing, your body overheating, almost feverish, as the sun rose.

For the better part of the day, you stayed on the couch, almost comatose. Then there came a moment when hunger was unbearable which forced you to get to the kitchen to grab something from the fridge. Though it was nothing close to a meal. Just something to satiate the pain you felt in your stomach.

By the time the sun had set, your mother called again. You declined the call.

You tried building the frame again. The frame fell apart.

You sorted out your clothes. His joined the rest of them on the floor.

The sight was horrendous. Overwhelming.

Too much.

It was far too much.

When you inhaled, your breath hitched, the beginnings of a breakdown you couldn’t afford.

It was there.

Almost.

Then your doorbell rang.

Your attention turned to your door, an exit point that seemed to grow further away with every second you stared at it. When your feet didn’t move from their spot, the door bell rang again forcing you to wade through the mess that was your living room to get to that door.

Please don’t be San.

Please.

Your pleas were answered but at a deadly cost.

The moment your door opened, your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Let me explain,” he said but you were already shutting the door.

But much like last time, he caught the door to prevent it from shutting.

“I’m sorry,” he tried again. His voice, the nerve of it to warble like he had any right to be in tears. “I made a mistake. I was wrong—just let me speak, will you?”

Along with his hand, he now had a foot in the threshold. But you blocked most of the entrance to your home with your body, your weight on the door. You were not letting him inside. He had no right to be here.

“I need to explain—”

“No, you need to leave,” you said, leaning on the frame, not giving up on the fight with the door.

Simply put, your ex-fiancee looked haggard. An image you have not been privy to since the rough final nights of your university years. His hair was a mess, far removed from the gelled back pristine look he usually wore to his office. His eyes were red-rimmed, like he’d lost sleep. Looking at him made you bring your hand to your own, fearful of how you might look. Then there was the matter of his clothes, which were oddly tight in all the wrong places. He’d probably stayed over at his friend’s place for the last two nights before making his way over here again.

There was just a small sense of comfort of him being stranded and naked. But it was short-lived.

“I know you like space after we fight, I didn’t want to call—didn’t want to give you some time, to process, to think over,” he paused his rambling for a moment to catch his breath. “To reconsider what you said.”

Fight? Process? Reconsider?

“Us,” he added, reading your mind flawlessly.

That’s what happens when you spend years with someone. They tend to learn every small detail of how you tick. They learn your little quirks, the microexpressions, the words, the silence. They become a walking instruction manual on how to put you together. Which just so happens to be the manual that allows them access to completely tear you apart.

He was right. Annoying as it is, he was right.

You liked your space. Especially after fights. You needed the time alone. To process what was happening, what you were feeling, only so you don’t explode violently. And he’d done just that. Give you space. Now that you think about it, you don’t remember any calls or texts from over the past twenty-four hours. Not that your memory serves anything, considering you ignored most of your calls and texts… but he really hadn’t reached out.

Because he knew.

He knew you.

“I’m sorry.”

You wished you could say he looked or sounded insincere. But it was that small voice of his, shaky and barely there as he said those words that made you feel a mixture of things. But he must know what you were thinking.

“Please don’t end this.”

He uttered the words and you let them float in the air for a moment.

Here he was, begging you to reconsider the relationship—not that it existed anymore—when you don’t even know why you were even listening to him.

“You ended it.”

“Don’t say that—”

“You ended this!” your voice was a hoarse scream, fracturing in real time much like a magma cracking solid rock. “You did this!”

Your ex raised his hands, taking a step back, a feeble attempt to placate you, not that he ever could. He’d miscalculated, both on how hot your anger boiled and his leverage on the door. Taking the chance, you slammed the door so hard the frame rattled.

Just in time too, because burning tears fell down your cheeks, endless since no amount of wiping them away dissuaded them. Unable to do much than pace around your house, you hoped the action will, plus the tears, will tire you out. Your ex still remained, forgoing the doorbell for his fists. You don’t know what was worse.

Wait him out, that was all you could do, but even after twenty minutes you could hear your ex’s rambling. In your frantic pacing, you missed the glint on the messy ground of your living room.

Swearing, you pulled up your left foot to check the sole. Hard metal had been crushed underneath, cutting into your skin and considering your house was a mess of nails, you were not in the mood to contract tetanus.

You still had some luck left in you. A screw hadn’t lodged itself into your skin. You turned your attention away from the impression on your skin to the silver on the ground.

No.

Wrong.

Your luck was still depleted.

Your wedding band, the one you’d hurled previously, made itself known. Mocking you.

A hiccup left you, all mangled between a sob and a cough.

When a faint buzzing was heard, you clamped a hand over your mouth. It was incessant.

And worst of all, there was a knock on the door.

It was too much.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: say you and your best friend get a tattoo together, what tattoo would it be ? personally i was thinking my little pony cutie marks but then it has to be character appropriate you know ? and yes this question definitely has to do with the fic, i need ideas :]

masterlist | chapter 3 | chapter 5

taglist: @eternallyghosting @marvolos @dawn-iscozy @vannerriin

send an ask to be added !

#in front of you #sanccharine #san x reader #choi san x reader #choi san ateez #ateez x reader

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thefusioncelestial · 8 months ago

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Mix 5: The Rich Bear

Here is Tyler:

Nature boy disguised as park ranger. Very out doorsey, loves camping, and an astrologist. Apparently, the lack of light pollution, many night shifts in the woods will introduce you to the stars. And he wrestles bears, races with the deer, swims with the fishes, and lord knows what he does with birds. Sings with them? Basically the Avatar of the Park. And in all his time as a park ranger, poaching has gone down to zilch in his nature reserve.

And then there is John:

The city boy. You would think he was a typical rich play boy. But its an act. When you are put together & don't have to work a day in your life, a lot of people want to use you to get to that status. He spends his waking hours funding charitable causes through art auctions. Yes, the fake play boy has an artist side. Very good for fashion tips too.

They both know each other. They hated each other in high school. Something about being rivals io the same basketball team back in the day. The clashing energy pushing their team to win state every year until graduation. They started out at different colleges. But depending on who you ask, they followed or stalked each other because they ended up at the same uni for the actual undergrad work.

Tyler studied Zoology. John, Fashion Design. And despite not sharing a single class, they ended up at the same club: Scuba diving. The experience inspired them in different ways, and before graduation, they buried the hatchet. They made a promise. If they were not married in five years, they would meet up at a certain park at its main pavilion. This wasn't a marriage proposal, they just were curious on how two different life trajectories could lead to the same resort of being single.

John could have married anyone. He was well liked, well known, and never struggled for a thing. His relationships just ended when he found out their motives or at least his perception of such. His money. One scheme was marriage, divorce, and then a rich alimony. Another, she didn't need to marry him, just get her pregnant. He hoped Tyler was having a better time...

But Tyler never tried. He put his full focus into animal related work, and found he could do the most good as a park ranger. He liked the outdoors too. He could be a bit much, at least once or twice or week, he would go out working shirtless. Something about a better connection to life. Thank god he didn't turn into one of those online life gurus. He figured John would have baby mommas all over the city by now. The ladies were al over him in Uni. A new girlfriend every week. Tyler shuddered at the child support payments. Especially once the court knew he was loaded.

And that was the life, avoiding baby traps, and snapping bear traps, but eventually that date came closer.

At first neither of them were going to show up. What are the chances they both messed up? But they went anyway. A change of environment helps anyone no matter the settings.

Knotfield Park. A giant hilly grass land with pavilions on selected hilltops. The one this pair aimed for was the biggest one in the middle. John came in a Mercedes-Ben, & Tyler a park ranger truck.

They both arrived at the pavilion at the same time. They were both surprised.

"Uncommitted Playboi," Tyler blerted.

"Senator Moosefarts," John responded.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before they both broke into a smile and hugged each other.

John started. "Who knew we striked out unlucky. A rich boy with nothing to do, and a nature boy living it up with bears."

"How did you know? Were you spying on me?" Tyler asked.

"Word got around that the God of the Wild emigrated to the US and I investigated. Come to find out, it was you being you. No matter how much you hide from the world, it finds you. Maybe we should switch lives..", John said, ending in a sad tone.

"All I got is money. Doesn't lead to healthy foundations in the relationship department," he exclaimed.

"Bears scare off the ladies you know." Tyler quipped.

"So what now?" he asked.

"You know I work in auction houses right? So, I get a peek at a lot of stuff with a lot of history. Snagged one for this occasion. It's ~~~Magic~~~." John said enthusiastically.

Tyler remembered that John was into supernatural stuff when he was in high school.

"How is a magic item going to fix our problems? Is a genie's lamp? First wish: never ending apple pie.." Tyler licked his lips.

"Haha, no. A magic mirror. One from ancient Mesopotamia." John Said.

"Historical trash. We going to admire ourselves into a new future?" Tyler said sarcastically.

"Moosefarts, the mirror works as a fortune telling device. You put a piece of your own hair on the polished surface and point it to the stars, and it illuminates the way."

It was now night time. The stars clear in view.

"Let's try it." Tyler said.

"Oh?" John said in confusion.

Tyler already cut off a piece of his hair to put on this mirror. John quickly did the same.

"Why at the same time, Playboi?" Tyler asked.

"Why not." John responded.

He pointed the mirror at the sky. Nothing a happened.

"Maybe you are doing it wrong, Maybe the stars don't give enough light. Point at the moon," insistently said by Tyler.

"Someone is a bit excited by my expensive trash." John Smiled.

He tried the moon, and then the etchings around the mirror glowed. Both Tyler & John could read it for some reason, and they both said

"Two paths, under the moon, converge as one. The source of life, a river."

The mirror's polished surface glowed brighter and brighter until they were both glowing. A light path formed from their feet forming two light roads. Leading to the nearby forest.

"You see what I am seeing?" John asked.

"Yes." Tyler responded.

Tyler trusted his instincts and started following his path.

John hesitated, and then following Tyler's example to not be outdone, followed his.

After 30 minutes, they were in the middle of the woods. Skinny trees, it was fall time to, so not much foliage blocking the way. A lot of brown leaves on the forest floor tho.

Their paths eventually converged, a figure cloaked in light was at the convergence point. They couldn't make out any features except it being humanoid shaped.

"Do yo trust me, John?" Tyler asked.

"This time sure, I got you into this." John joked.

They both walked closer. But as they did. They became enamored by this being. They never stopped walking, and soon they were up real close to it. And yet they didn't stop. They were inside the glowing figure. John half way on one side, Tyler the other. Was it a hologram?

Just then, the light exploded and the two best friends were jerked forward. They smashed against each other & then turned into light particles. They floated for a bit and then swirled around the glowing figure.

The swirling lights that was once John & Tyler converged inside this light being in waves, smashing into it. Each time, the light being gained distinguishing features and became more solid, the light glowing dimmer.

The first wave: The humanoid being was now a skeletal frame surrounded by light.

The second wave: the nervous and vascular system started growing like vines and grew around in and the skeletal frame. A brain was forming.

The third wave: organs and & muscles were formed. It looked like one of those life sized cadaver models of the body without skin.

The fourth wave: Blood starts pumping and skin is formed.

Mentally, John & Tyler were confused. They were inside this light being & at the same time swirling around it.

The fifth wave: They understood. The light being was them. Both of them. In a sense they met their future self and he used the past to bring himself to the present. They were broken down into light and used to make him. Their destiny was to become one and chart a new future. Strangely, they excepted this. Life always brought them together. Maybe that was the hint that they were one being in two bodes. And now they shall be whole.

They gave in. Their minds were broken apart and put back together as one mind.

The sixth wave: John & Tyler's dna was mixed together and added to being. With this set of new instructions, the generic body began to morph.

Tyler's physique was used as the template. The skin tightened & etched Tyler's features the neck down. Loud stretching noises were produced. The biceps bulged out and the shoulders & pecs grew with a popping noise, but John's physique was added as well, and the H body shape was more fleshed out, like being pulled from both sides from the waist. The skin was fighting against this and so he became more cut, and his veins became more visible.

John's face was used as the template. The features morphed to copy John's but soon Tyler's characteristics had their say in this. The eyes became more sunken, the lip color more towards the skin tone. The ears moved to be more like Tyler's. When it came to hair, it was short cut like John's but darker like Tyler's. John's hairline won out, but Tyler's eyes would be used. Tyler's jawline and chin would win out, but John 's potential for facial hair gave him a lowkey grizzled look. The chin was a combination of both, long & thick.

Tyler's ass would form on it, and in the front, John won out. He was well endowed and needed no upgrading. Like his chin, his jewels would get hairy. But Tyler had better leg days from being out in nature, but it would use John's feet. Though for this new being its leg muscles got bigger and stronger than Tyler's, thanks to John.

Throughout this process, he would not make a sound. No moaning, no grunting. The only noise being made was from his body forming. He would find that he had a high pain tolerance.

The Seventh wave: It was shirtless like Tyler likes to be, but it had John's denim jeans.

The final wave: Their life force was added. The light built up again and let out a quick, but bright flash. He was alive. He slumped to the ground and began breathing air. His lungs sucked in the oxygen like a pair of black holes.

Who was he? This was the true final step. The name he chose would solidify the merger of the best friends, there would be one mind going forward. Just say who you are.

He stood up and opened his eyes:

I am James. His jeans became unbuttoned. He fixed that. He would need to get some new clothing.

What does he do in life? Run's charities to fund wildlife refuges. He spends his life between city & nature. James felt a sudden rush of confidence. It was his Tyler half pushing away what kept John from forming relationships: a fear of commitment. He knew someone, Analise. And with John helped push away Tyler's social anxiety. He kept his love of nature but would not selfishly keep that to himself. And with John's money, he could hire a team of new park rangers to protect Tyler's old park. He would still wrestles bears, race with deer, swim with the fish, and lord knows what he does with birds. He would just not do it alone anymore.

#male merge #thefusioncelestial #musclegrowth #muscle #muscular #male body merge #absorption #male fusion #male pred #male body transformation #Fusion #merge #merging #body merging #merging tf #male transformation #transformation

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1800naveen · 10 months ago

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My appreciation.

September 2023, I started the "a court of thorns and roses" series. Booktok got me hyped to read it so when I did, I really enjoyed it. (I fell victim to liking Rhysand and the inner circle, forgive me)

Feyre, Tamlin, and Lucien were my favorite characters. Their dynamic, how their relationship grew, I loved it all. (I was also a hater of Nesta but I changed now, my mind opened.)

I also saw spoilers on Tik Tok about acomaf and Rhysand which put me into a slump and I didn't continue reading the series again until April 2024. Yeah, it was that bad.

Finding out that people hated Tamlin for his later actions got me bummed because I really liked him at the time. I got spoiled for the rest of the series but I don't really care for spoilers that much.

During my slump, I made an account on Tumblr. I mostly liked posts but I would comment at times. I was afraid of making a post because I was just nervous.

I still had love for Tamlin so I avoided the Acotar side of Tumblr for a while. Because what if someone came after for my thoughts or opinions? That scared me. I felt somewhat alone when it came to not hating Tamlin or seeing him as a "villain" (he's more morally grey). I also still didn't like Rhysand because of the whole under the mountain thing which weirded me out.

Then one faithful day, I was looking through the Bryce Quinlan tag after finding out about her when I saw this post (it was about the crossover) and it was the first anti Rhysand post I liked.

And I clicked on the anti Rhysand tag and my third eye opened. When it came to booktok, I thought that hating this man was some sort of taboo.

These guys showed his wrongdoings, went on analysis, how he was toxic, how he treated certain characters, etc. Thanks to them, I was right to feel what I felt about him. He fucking sucks.

I then went on the pro Tamlin tag and I had finally found my people. Ones that shared the same thoughts as I did when it came to Tamlin and it gave me inspiration to make my first post on here.

(And the rest was history...) *cue the clapping*

Nah but seriously, I want to give my appreciation to the Tamlin, Nesta, Lucien, and Eris fans, the anti Rhysand people, the inner circle haters, and the people who just hate this series in general. I'm grateful for finding a community where I fit right in and where I won't get burned at the stake for my opinion (most of the time). I actually made friends on here which is great because I usually suck at making friends (Me and Tamlin twinning, can't make friends for shit) so this is great.

TIME FOR THE TAGS!!!

Giving my appreciation to the people who inspired me to become the blog that I am today: @szalonykasztan00, @copypastus (love your art❤), @shi-daisy, @arson-09, @thrumbolt, @achaotichuman, and @feyres-divorce-lawyer (so glad that I found you on tik tok first, a fellow Rhysand hater).

My mutuals where we are united by both love and hate: @sonics-atelier (thanks for making those analysis posts), @wingsdippedingold, @rin-u-pos, @positivelyruined (bless you for the Luke Eisner fancast🙏🏾), @nickel156, @viktoriaashleyyx, @thatapologisttoyourantis.

And those who I first found out on tik tok and then found them again on Tumblr (some are mutuals, some aren't and the first two I found out there asoiaf tik toks): @watcherintheweyr, @kataraavatara, @booksnwriting.

Yuh, that's about it. Just wanted to make something nice and sweet. Thanks to my 107 followers that I got for mostly being a hater or from other stuff that I post.

Me to all of you (This feels corny but I was born on the cob🌽):

(Here's the posts I was talking about.)

#acotar #tamlin #pro tamlin #tamlin deserves better #tamlin acotar #appreciation post #follower appreciation #you're the best #mutual appreciation

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whetstonefires · 5 months ago

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#4 please !

Now see this could be tricky, because generally if I don't get some key elements written down very quickly the idea flows away again and the 'yet' disappears, even if I remember generally what it was about, but I have one this time! I am still just enough plagued by this vision that it's not out of the question I'll go for the capture, but so far nada.

Idea was basically a Jiang family character study by way of modern au. (So tw canonical abuse.) I started from the reflection, in a modern au very high chance the Jiangs are divorced, because being a divorcee wouldn't necessarily ruin Yu Ziyuan in the modern world, as long as she was allowed to control the narrative enough that she didn’t look at fault, so it might be on the table.

Especially because modern views on child abuse are such that while she'd hold back more than she already does in terms of physical chastisement, Jiang Fengmian would also be under less societal pressure to not interfere in her disciplinary system too much, and both these factors mean he’s more likely to put his foot down.

So, concept: Jiang Fengmian, when his son is eight and his daughter thirteen, forces the issue of taking in his best friends' abused orphan child whom he’s just managed to track down in a nightmarish group home, probably leveraging the fact that wherever their money comes from it's mostly his, something he usually doesn't do, but she has always known he could, and been fucked up about it (reasonable) and hated him a little (less so) and hates him so much more now (understandable but still fucked up).

They were obviously still both pressured into this marriage by their families, because I literally cannot imagine them choosing one another of their own free will, and if they did that would be an au in an even more dramatic way than being modern, and no longer work as a character or relationship study as far as I'm concerned. I mean or it’s a cql-based au, but that’s not the version of this toxic marriage I find compelling.

Situation subsequently deteriorates to the point that when the boys are around twelve some outside party observes and is repulsed or otherwise upset by Yu Ziyuan's treatment of Wei Wuxian specifically--she's emotionally abusive to everyone in the family, canonically, and it harms Jiang Cheng significantly more than Wei Wuxian, which I think is also pretty explicit on the page, but she's more openly antagonistic about going after wwx because he's basically a proxy for her husband, whom she doesn't consider to be someone she's capable of harming.

And ofc in a modern family scenario, being abusive to your foster kid is more plainly personal misconduct than being unfair in how you discipline one of your husband's many students, even if it is his favorite. Which means she's very unlikely to chase him around with a whip, but whatever she does do will sting that much more emotionally.

Anyway the outside judgement provokes a more explicit confrontation than the last four years of maneuver and attempting to balance all the competing needs according to two very different standards. And the upshot is that by the time wwx is 13, the Jiangs are divorced. To avoid making a humiliating spectacle of themselves they present a weirdly united front in court and have a very smooth uncontested proceding, although the closed meetings with their respective lawyers involved a lot of vitriol.

Yu Ziyuan, despite having a smallish trust fund and probably a job of some kind, though one that's more prestigious than profitable like uh. Olympic fencing coach. Idk what they make but it's probably not enormous. She and Cangse Sanren probably competed in the same events back in the day.

Anyway she gets a solid chunk of alimony, the house, and primary custody of both her children, although Jiang Yanli is almost 18 at this point so mostly she just gets Jiang Cheng. Everyone thinks Jiang Cheng wants it that way, including sort of Jiang Cheng; he has this idea that if he has his mom to himself they'll finally have a good relationship, even though he's also terrified of being left all alone with her. He's complicated. Families are complicated.

Also she would never have forgiven him if he hadn't concurred that he wanted to stay with his mother because she was the only one On His Side.

Jiang Yanli ofc does not move out right away when she comes of age, in part because her brother needs her, but she probably does go to college, so she's only around part-time.

Jiang Fengmian, meanwhile, keeps most of his financial assets and Wei Wuxian, and gets his kids on the weekends.

So that's all setup for how you have this situation where Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are entering high school--probably the same school, together, but no longer sharing the commute except maybe Monday mornings--and Wei Wuxian's primary residence is Jiang Cheng's dad's apartment.

It’s really chill. They get a cleaning service in once a week and eat a lot of delivery food, but they do cook at least once a week. The canonical thing where they largely agree about what’s funny and what’s right-or-wrong, and so forth, on the one hand really pops when there’s mostly no external conflict disrupting it, but also probably gains more complexity now that it’s not a thread of positivity fighting for its life against a background of drama. They get to know each other better than they ever had a chance to in canon.

Some of that isn't all that positive, because now they have the space to discover the places where they do actually have the capacity for friction, but both of them are very good at dispersing tension (I do tend to suspect jfm's dad was abusive he sure acts like it), and on the whole it's a good thing.

Jiang Cheng is going to have such a mental health crisis, and Jiang Fengmian is going to handle it so badly. Because of course when his son starts replicating his ex-wife's toxic attitudes and behaviors more now that she has primary custody, he’s going to feel guilty and like it’s His Fault, but he’s going to feel like it’s his fault that Jiang Cheng is growing up to be a shitty abusive person.

And even if he’d never say that the subtext would come through, in the assumptions he made when framing communications and so forth, as in canon, so the thing where Jiang Cheng’s father loves Wei Wuxian more than him, or at any rate likes him better and thinks he’s a better person and prefers his company, would wind up feeding into a self-reinforcing loop.

(Jin Zixuan's nasty public remark about Jiang Fengmian treating Wei Wuxian better than his own children hits Jiang Cheng significantly harder in this scenario, where he's being Tormented by the feeling that all his peers know his dad walked out on him for another son. Wei Wuxian's punch is therefore even more clearly primarily for Jiang Cheng's sake, although Jiang Cheng is probably more inclined to see it as being for his dad's. Jin Zixuan is about halfway between the Jiang kids' ages here, so he's a senior saying this shit to a sophomore.)

So that cycle builds to the point where Jiang Cheng would eventually have one of those rare moments where he resorts to actual violence, because his poisoned feelings are choking him so bad his rationality deserts him.

He’s not going to be nearly as close to actually murdering Wei Wuxian as he was in canon the night the Jiang Sect was massacred, because it’s a less extreme situation, but he still goes for the neck. So Jiang Fengmian is in his home office one Saturday about a year and a half into this new normal, and realizes the boys are fighting. He hears through the wall the accusation you stole my dad. He says to himself, well that’s terrible but interjecting myself into this situation would definitely make it worse.

Then he hears sounds of violence, and then an ominous abrupt silence, and updates that analysis.

And when he opens the door to the boys’ room, Wei Wuxian is being strangled. He’s not really resisting, which is because he’s made the call that that’s way more likely to get Jiang Cheng to snap out of it, and thinks it might make Jiang Cheng feel better to get it out of his system (because he does sort of feel like what Jiang Cheng is going through is all his fault, or at any rate is much worse as a result of decisions made for his sake) and is severely underestimating the dangers of choking, but looks to a third party like he’s already passed out and Jiang Cheng is still at it. Which is to say, it looks like a serious murder attempt on the brink of success.

So that sure made that situation worse!

So yeah that's my idea that I probably won't write but it sure has its teeth in me.

#answers #snarglepop-content #ask #ask game #mdzs #meta #modern au #family drama #character study #i'm really sorry to the person who sent me that madam yu ask i worked on it for SO long but i CANNOT find it in my drafts #i'm hoping i posted it and forgot????#anyway this fic is drawn from conclusions i reached trying to articulate for that ask my thoughts on modern yu ziyuan #and how hard she is to work #because yzy's characterization is pretty exquisitely responsive to her context #in such a way that if you change the context she will either behave differently or become ooc #so she's a major failure point in modern aus because she tends to have her characterization adjusted to fit the needs of the story #its desired beats or themes or whump quota #and if you do this carelessly then either wwx and jc also become ooc #or the story ceases to have consistent internal logic #mdzs is a pretty well-balanced machine!#despite how many elements come across sort of slapdash because mxtx literally did not care about that part #i.e. scale or logistics or history-as-such rather than just some of its societal features #but she didn't care *intentionally* so it's generally insulated from undermining the important beats which is such a good trick ak;kjlsdf #ANYWAY #i'm overly invested in how hard it is to depict this family as shown in the novel #because there's so little information and it's so tempting to disregard some of it to get a simpler narrative #so easy to take madam yu's word about things because she's the only one talking #so easy to punch up the melodrama in the wrong spots or iron out the actual ugly bits #to get something easier to grasp at but less realistic #concept up for adoption if anyone wants btw

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waynes-multiverse · 1 year ago

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Polaris – Chapter 4

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, so many flashbacks, more awkwardness, more funerals, more drinking, more murder, some fluff and a sprinkle of smut too

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Life got a little busy, so I've been a bit absent recently, but I'm so happy and grateful you guys are enjoying this series so far! All your sweet comments really put a smile on my face during all the chaotic and exhausting times 🥹🤍

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 4: Rewind

A tequila hangover required copious amounts of coffee to battle the raging headache you felt. Your eyes stung when they met the blinding sun this morning, not even your darkest pair of shades bringing much relief.

Your whole body ached, a welcoming soreness between your weak and wobbly legs as you stalked inside the little bakery and coffee shop on Main Street USA. Beau had already scolded you for calling it that, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Helena’s sheriff then had sent you here for your morning coffee run, hoping this way you’d avoid the questioning and curious stares of Jenny and Cassie. Needless to say, you had never made it to Cassie’s place last night. Beau had been very convincing (and successful) in making you stay.

Hands, lips, teeth, and tongue – you clenched at the thought alone, cursing yourself for soaking through your fresh underwear. How good were your chances for a quickie during lunch break in his office if you promised to thoroughly lock his goddamn door this time?

“Y/N, hey.” Carla’s voice made you flinch and pulled you from your naughty reverie – about her ex-husband no less.

Had you mentioned how much you hated small towns?

“Hey, Carla,” you greeted her with a flushed smile, hoping you hid your blushed cheeks and fluster well. You definitely felt caught with your hand in the cookie jar, although it was thankfully impossible for her to read your mind.

Was there no safe place to quietly get coffee in this goddamn village?

“Listen, Y/N, again, I’m so sorry about yesterday,” she apologized and nervously fumbled with her coffee cup in her hands, her gaze focusing on her heels.

Carla was usually confidence personified. She was strong-willed, assertive, and dauntless – all the traits that made her a fierce and excellent lawyer and a force to be reckoned with in court. It was rare for her to lower her head, so you knew she must really be trying to make amends.

“No, don’t be. Like I said, we’re good,” you assured her and swallowed the lump of embarrassment down your throat. “I get it. I really do. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too. I never meant for any of this to happen, you know?”

You never had gotten a chance to say it before. You had always felt bad for the way the two of you had left things. Carla was by far not your closest friend, but the tight friendship between both your husbands and the nature of your jobs had forced you to spend time together occasionally. You’d meet at barbecues on the weekends, drinks after work, and life events like Emily’s middle school graduation. You never meant to betray her. You never meant to hurt her. And you never meant for your friendship to implode like it did.

“I know. It’s okay, really,” Carla said. “I already told Beau this yesterday, but I want him to be happy. That goes for you, too. I found my happiness after the divorce. At least for a while…”

Upon her sad look, you gave her a sympathetic smile. You knew she wasn’t married to Avery for long, but that didn’t matter. You understood better than anyone what it was like to lose someone you loved.

“Hey, if you ever need someone to talk, call me, okay? I feel like I owe you a whole pitcher of margaritas,” you offered with a chuckle.

She returned your kindness with a soft smile. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that.”

“Well, if this ain’t interestingly awkward.”

Both you and Carla turned to Beau in surprise as he strolled through the doors of the coffee shop. Leave it to him to voice the uncomfortableness of the situation out loud.

“Hey, uhm… you,” you said with wide eyes and fist-bumped his arm. Obviously, you weren’t equipped to handle awkwardness very smoothly, either.

Beau sent you a tight-lipped smile that barely hid his amusement. “Do I need to pull out the sheriff’s badge here, or are you two good?”

“We’re good,” you assured him.

“Oh, relax, Beau,” Carla told him with an amused laugh and patted his shoulder in passing on her way out of the shop. “Don’t kid yourself. You could not handle either one of us, anyway.”

“Probably true,” Beau quipped in agreement as Carla waved you goodbye.

Beau waited till the door safely closed behind his ex before tilting his head at you, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You really good?”

“No!” you exclaimed frustratedly.

Laughing, he slung his arms around you and pulled you against his chest. Embarrassed, you buried your face in his shirt, clasping it with your palms for good measure.

“Tomorrow I’m getting coffee in the next town over. I really hate small towns,” you grumbled.

“So, I’m guessin’ you’re not a big fan of staying after the case is over, huh?” he asked carefully and rubbed his beard.

Truthfully, you hadn’t thought about it until now. But Beau clearly had as he nervously chewed his lower lip and waited for your answer.

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes. “Well, uhm… Montana doesn’t have a field office. The next one’s in Utah, and I hate Utah.”

“Yeah, everyone does. It’s Utah,” Beau agreed jokingly. “Could always work here. Sheriff’s Department could use someone like you.”

You snorted. “Yeah, not gonna happen. You’re not gonna be the boss of me. That’ll have to stay a fantasy of yours.”

“Too bad. It was a good one,” he retorted with a cheeky smile and wiggled his eyebrows. Then, he became more serious. He scratched the nape of his neck in an anxious gesture. “But look, uhm, I was about to retire anyway, so I’m just putting that on the table, okay?”

“Alright, good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.”

You smiled softly up at him, thinking it was cute he wanted to follow you wherever you went. He’d never handled your relationship so open and secure before. In the past, everything always dangled in the air – his feelings, your future. Unlike the North Star, nothing was fixed.

You had always been a flag he’d never preferred to wave.

You let out a small sigh and pecked his lips. “But this case is far from over, so we’ve got time to figure it out, okay?”

He nodded, a bit more relieved at your answer. “Okay.”

August 2020

Beau rubbed his face clean as best as he could. His eyes were red and stung, his vision blurry as he stepped out of the church’s back room on shaky bow legs. He had to talk to you and make things right. He felt like he not only failed you but also his best friend. Again.

The funeral guests filtered out of the church one by one as he trudged down the red-carpeted aisle. Beau could feel their stares and judgments on him. He knew he looked like the biggest mess, his suit and tie in disarray, tousled hair, and bloodshot eyes. How many of them blamed him for his partner’s death?

“Dad?” Emily’s voice made his heart ache as his thirteen-year-old daughter looked at him with a mix of worry and disenchantment. He barely resembled the father she’d known all her life and held high on a pedestal.

“Emily, honey, go wait in the car,” Carla told her swiftly, taking immediate note of her husband’s disheveled status.

“But Mom–”

“Now, Emily,” Carla ordered more firmly and watched her daughter quietly leave the church.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Beau asked, trying his best to swallow any shame he felt down. He hated that his family had to see him like this. The disappointment and hurt were visible as clear as day in both their faces.

“You gotta be kidding me…” Carla scoffed in anger and disbelief, a part of her hardly grasping the current state of her husband. “Where the hell were you, Beau? Jesus, you reek! Have you been drinking?”

“I already went through this today, okay? I don’t need a replay,” he replied flatly, every part of him hating how she looked at him. “Have you seen Y/N or not?”

“Beau, what’s going on with you? Just talk to me, please,” Carla pleaded with him as the anger subsided, concern etched into her brow. “What happened during that shootout?”

Beau ran a hand over his face, his head spinning and his eyes burning. “I can’t do this right now. Just take Em home, okay?” he told her and pushed past her.

“Where are you going? Beau!” Carla called after him, but he stubbornly headed out the door to the parking lot.

Fortunately, you still hadn’t left, but what he was seeing didn’t put him more at ease. He watched as you put a clip into your gun, a duffel bag hurriedly packed with clothes lying in the trunk of your SUV.

You threw your black pumps carelessly into the backseat before slipping into a pair of worn jeans under your black dress, which you discarded next, leaving you momentarily in only a black satin bra. He averted his gaze and tried not to stare, even though you had your back turned to him, and he couldn’t see much anyway. Still, his heartbeat quickened as he approached you, while you pulled a white t-shirt over your head and tied your wavy hair into a ponytail.

“What are you doing?” Beau asked, the feeling in the pit of his stomach and the determination in your eyes already giving him a good guess.

“What does it look like? I’m going after them,” you said sternly and tied the laces on your boots. “DEA is going down to Mexico in a couple of weeks. Cody’s leading a task force. I fought my way in. They wanna scope out some locations tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, just look at you! You’re not going after them alone in this state,” Beau snapped, throwing his arms up in utter incredulity. His gut ordered him to protect you no matter the cost. He owed as much to his dead partner to look out for you. It was a constant debt in his mind.

“My state?” You cocked an eyebrow and snorted caustically, shaking your head at him. “Have you fucking looked at yourself recently? Compared to you, I’m fine. And I also won’t be alone.”

“You’re not fine,” Beau gritted with anger in his eyes and worry in his heart. “We’re all fucking far from fine. You’re gonna get yourself killed like this!”

“I don’t have time for this right now,” you brushed him off with a roll of your eyes and slammed the trunk shut, hurrying to the driver’s side. But a rough grab of your arm stopped you in your tracks and made you spin and glare at Beau.

“Dammit, Y/N!”

Your features softened when you saw the desperation in his look. “I need to do this, Beau,” you insisted calmly and looked deeply into his watery eyes. Tears filled your gaze and threatened to choke you. “I want them to pay for what they’ve done to him. They can’t get away with it.”

His grip on your arm loosened before he let you go completely. He ran a palm over his face and carded it through his messy hair.

“Fine,” he barked resolutely, the despair replaced by determination. “But I’m coming with you. You’re not doing this alone.”

“What, so you can get me killed, too?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as soon as the words rushed out and pinched the bridge of your nose. Immediate regret flooded your veins.

When you finally dared to glance at him, he looked hurt and averted his gaze to the burning asphalt below. He smacked his lips, head bobbing. It felt like you had just thrown an ax to his heart, whipped him, bludgeoned him with a baseball bat, and shot him in the knee – all at once.

“Beau, I’m so sorry.” You could see in his eyes that your apology already came too late. He was spiraling, blaming himself for Randy’s death. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean it like that. I just-… It’s been a long day.”

“Nope, no, you’re right. Don’t apologize,” he rebuffed your efforts to patch the wound you’d opened with a dark chuckle. You felt like utter shit. “I let him down. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be alive, so…”

“Beau, don’t do this. He wouldn’t want you to. And neither do I for that matter…” You reached out and clasped his hand reassuringly. But it didn’t feel like it was enough, so you wrapped your arms around him, too, and pulled him into a hug.

Beau was frozen for a moment when he felt your body pressed flush against his before he wrapped his arms around you as well and held you tightly. Carefully, he rested his chin on top of your head, the scent of your shampoo winding its way to his nose. And for a mere second, he let go and allowed himself to be comforted, soothing warmth spreading throughout his body.

“I gotta go,” you said quietly as you released him. But Beau held onto your hand with his for a heartbeat before realizing the strangeness of his touch and withdrew his arm quickly with a clear of his throat, fingers ripping apart at the seams.

“Lemme come with you. Lemme help,” he stated.

“Beau, no offense, but you’re a mess,” you said with gentle honesty. “Can you even walk a straight line? Stand on one leg and touch the tip of your nose? Recite the alphabet backwards?”

He actually snorted at that, his lips forming a small smile. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “I’ll get better. Promise, okay? Just please… I need this, too.”

As you stared at him, you heaved a deep sigh. “Fine, get in,” you relented and gestured with your chin to the passenger’s side of your car. “But let’s hit a Denny’s first. Get some goddamn coffee and toast into you. Maybe a shower would help, too.”

Beau chuckled a little at that, nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

February 2012

Randy groaned loudly as he passed Beau the football, letting his head fall back between his shoulder blades. “Ugh, I can’t believe the Captain agreed to give the case to the stupid FBI. It was our case, man. We almost had the guy!”

“Yeah, I know. But hey, we could still follow our own leads. Solve it before the feds do. What’s Harper gonna do?” Beau suggested with a cocky smirk.

“I don’t know. Suspend us? Fire us? Just to name a few,” Randy quipped sarcastically and threw his partner a raised look.

Beau scoffed playfully and rolled his eyes. “Always by the book. You’re no fun,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Well, I can still bash the feds who are stealing this case from us. It’s probably some dumb asshole in a suit and sunglasses,” Randy joked and laughed, not noticing Beau’s facial expression change as he lowered his gaze to the floor, lips pursing.

You cleared your throat behind the chuckling detective, causing him to turn around and blink up at you.

“Well, I’m an asshole. I can admit as much. Definitely not dumb, though. I hate suits, and I don’t wear sunglasses indoors. Only douchebags do that,” you quipped and sent him a complacent smile upon his wide-eyed stare. Then, you arched a brow at the guy. “And stealing, really? You guys haven’t made progress on the case for weeks. Probably because you keep playing football instead of working.”

“Whoa, hey!” Beau threw in, furrowing his brow. “It’s a brainstorming technique, okay?”

“Yeah, for dumbasses,” you retorted. “Did you already get a concussion? Would explain a few things, mainly how you screwed up this case so much. It’s not rocket science, boys.”

“Okay, listen, missy. We did not screw up this case. We have leads, alright?” Beau argued fervently and took a step closer to you, his shoulders tensing as he was only inches away from your face.

You had the urge to tiptoe just to keep up with him for a proper face-off. He was tall, gigantic really, and now you were left to glare more or less into his chest.

“Who? The buyer for the jeweler? It wasn’t him. I already checked him out,” you said dismissively and could tell by Beau’s frown that it indeed had been his only lead. You then glanced at his partner. “Is he gonna say something or just stare? It’s not helping to refute my concussion theory, you know?”

Beau knitted his brow and shot his partner a look. As soon as he realized what was going on, he rolled his eyes and sighed. His best friend was running hot for Agent Hostile. Granted, you did look very sexy with all that fire burning in your eyes.

“Ey, Randy!” Beau snapped his fingers in front of his partner and hauled him from his surely naughty daydream.

“Uhm… I’m Randy,” he told you, dumbfounded.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline, your mouth itched to smile in amusement. “Wow, okay… Does that come with a last name?”

Randy still gave you that same vacant and infatuated stare in his hazel eyes. “You can call me whatever you want.” He sent you an insecure smile with a halfway shrug.

“Oh, can I call you a moron?” you countered snappily.

Amused, Beau actually snorted into his shoulder as he dipped his head, but then decided to step in for his best friend. “Okay, c’mon, leave him be.”

“Look, just gimme the file, and I’ll be outta your hair,” you submitted your peace offering, which Beau accepted, handing you the folder.

“Uh… drinks?” Randy looked up at you hopefully, like a shelter puppy waiting to be adopted. You honestly found his fluster quite endearing.

“Is he asking me out?” you checked with Beau, a smile playing on your lips.

“I think so.” Beau chuckled and nodded. “Look, uh–”

“Y/N,” you provided, noticing him fumble for a name.

“Y/N,” he repeated with a warm smile that reached his green eyes. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. We could help you with the case. We know it better than anyone. Could save you some work.”

You smirked slightly, recognizing what he was doing. First of all, he wanted in on the case, clearly having a hard time letting go. You knew the type all too well. Sometimes people in law enforcement behaved like bratty toddlers when it came to cases – they all hated sharing their toys, but you knew how to play nice. And secondly, Beau wanted to ensure you got to spend more time with his partner – the perfect wingman. He deserved a medal for his efforts.

You lifted a knowing eyebrow at him. “Didn’t your captain already say no?”

“But what d’you say, darlin’?” He shot you a mischievous grin.

“You’re a troublemaker,” you noted and received an acknowledging shrug in return. “Are you gonna behave, Ferris Bueller?”

“Yes, ma’am. Hand on my red-blooded and beating heart,” Beau promised charmingly and did as advertised, placing his palm on his chest like he was swearing a Boy Scout oath.

Rolling your eyes, you groaned and caved. “Fine. I’ll talk to your captain. You guys can come along, I guess.”

Beau handed you their card with their numbers on it before you disappeared out of the station again. Comfortingly, he patted his partner’s back as soon as you had left, Randy still staring after your goddamn shadow.

“I wanna marry her,” Randy sighed dreamily.

“Whoa… Moving way too fast here, buddy,” Beau tried to rein him in. “Maybe try speaking a straight sentence to her first.”

“I can’t. I’m in love with her. She’s the one.”

“She called you a moron,” Beau countered and crossed his arms over his chest, although he kind of understood where Randy was coming from. If he hadn’t been married, he would’ve given you his best shot as well.

“That only made me love her more,” Randy insisted.

Sighing theatrically, Beau rolled his eyes back. “Dear Lord, help me…”

Randy then went on a long tangent about everything he loved about you. The words he’d been missing when you were around suddenly spilled out of him. And while Beau acted annoyed, he smiled internally for his friend’s happiness. He’d never seen him before like this.

June 2013

“Oh God, I think I’m gonna puke,” Randy said and swallowed what felt like bile in his throat. With his hands on his hips, he took a deep breath, but it did nothing to calm his nerves. “Can you give me that trash can?”

Beau handed him the bin next to him with an amused chuckle. “Alright, but just remember – no matter what you do, don’t puke on the suit.”

Randy scowled at him, panic taking over as he nervously paced the fancy dressing room. “Not in the mood for jokes right now, man,” he huffed.

Beau laughed heartily and raised his hands in surrender. He got up from his seat on the small and uncomfortable sofa and patted his friend on the back, squeezing his shoulders encouragingly. “Okay, calm down. Everything will work out fine. Why are you so nervous anyway? Is this you having cold feet? Should I do somethin’? Start a getaway car?”

Taken aback by the suggestion, Randy’s brow furrowed, close to offended. “What? No! I love Y/N. I can’t wait to marry her,” he stated with absolute certainty. “I just-… I don’t wanna stand up there and, you know, look like a moron. I want today to be perfect for her.”

Beau snorted a laugh. “Alright, you won’t, okay? That’s what I’m here for. If you do somethin’ stupid up there, I’m gonna distract everyone with somethin’ stupider. That’s basically my duty as best man.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s gonna love that,” Randy quipped sarcastically and chuckled. But the lighthearted distraction didn’t last long before his nerves burned through him again. “You think I can make her happy?”

Beau smiled at him warmly. “The way she looks at you, you already are. Trust me.”

“Okay, good.” Randy nodded in relief. “‘Cause sometimes I really wonder how I got so lucky. I swear I didn’t speak in straight sentences for, like, the first three dates.”

“Oh, I remember.” Beau snorted.

“Man, were you this nervous, too, when you married Carla? I swear this is killing me,” Randy asked with his wildly beating heart in his throat. “I think I’m having a heart attack… Or a stroke. My head keeps spinning. Is that normal? Doesn’t feel normal…”

Beau hesitated for a moment before he nodded with a light swallow. “Yeah, sure. Everyone’s nervous,” he assured his partner, although the truth was a little different.

Carla was already pregnant when they tied the knot, so they did the right thing to appease their parents. But sometimes, Beau wished they would’ve waited. He could tell Carla did, too. They were both young. She had still been in law school, chasing her degree, and Beau had barely finished police academy and had still been working patrol.

Sure, he was nervous on his wedding day, but it wasn’t a puking-your-guts-out-and-jittering-to-your-bones kind of nervous. But Beau loved his family more than words could say and wouldn’t trade his daughter for anything.

“Hey, uh, can you ask Y/N about the marriage certificate? I’m supposed to give it to the officiant or something,” Randy said with a confused brow, scratching his sweaty neck.

“Yeah, of course. Be right back,” Beau replied with a saluting gesture and strutted to the door, encouragingly patting Randy’s shoulder once more on the way out. “Try not to soil yourself,” he teased, chuckling.

Beau then strolled down the lavish hallway of the five-star hotel and stopped in front of your dressing room door. He knocked twice and heard a “Come in!” bounce through. But when he opened the door and peeked his head carefully inside, he wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him.

“Wow… uh…” Beau’s forest-green eyes went wide as he blinked at you. He was rendered completely speechless. How did he turn into Randy so quickly?

As you sat in front of your vanity, you glanced at him over your naked shoulder before you stood up and greeted him with a bright smile.

Your white dress hugged your curves perfectly, strapless but with a bit of cleavage, giving a perfect view of your clavicle and shoulder blades. It wasn’t one of those puffy princess dresses. It was smooth, uncomplicated, and delicate just like you.

You looked absolutely stunning.

“Wow,” Beau repeated and felt like a moron. He cleared his throat to haul himself out of his shameless staring and tried to recover his composure. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thanks.” You beamed with blushed cheeks. “You think Randy’s gonna like it?”

Beau smiled kindly, unable to take his eyes off of you. “Yeah, he’s gonna love it. It’s gonna make him even more nervous,” he replied, chuckling.

But your brow creased in concern, your lips parting. “He’s nervous?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Beau swiftly brushed your concerns away, “He’s nervous in a good way. No cold feet or anythin’ like it. He might just pass out and puke at the altar when you walk out. That’s all. Maybe some stuttering, too.”

You laughed softly, nodding. “That’s all, huh?” you teased. “Kinda like when we first met then,” you remembered fondly. “Or our first three dates, too, I guess.”

Musingly, Beau pursed his lips, his head bobbing in thought. “Hey, uh, can I just ask… Why did you keep going out with him? I mean, like you said he didn’t really speak for the first three dates. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good-looking guy, but, you know, you’re, well… you.”

You snorted lightly and cast your gaze down as your cheeks flushed even deeper red. “Thank you, I guess? But, uhm, to answer your question – I kinda liked that he was so flustered. It was endearingly sweet,” you replied and smiled to yourself at the memory. “‘Sides, every time he did say something, it was oddly complimenting. He’s also the only guy who ever bought me flowers after our first night together. It came with an extensive ‘thank you’ card.”

“Oh, Randy, you sweet little idiot…” Beau sighed affectionately.

“He never told you that?” you asked curiously.

“Ha, no. For obvious reasons.” Beau laughed. “But hey, it’s great material for my best man speech later.”

“Oh God,” you groaned playfully and laughed. “Just so you know, though, I’m gonna cut you off after fifteen minutes.”

Beau threw his head back, laughing loudly. “Alright, I hear ya. Your loss, though.”

You watched him for a moment when your laughs quieted down. He scratched his bearded chin, gazing down at his feet and making no efforts to move.

“Beau?”

“Hm?” His eyes found your arched eyebrow.

“Did you come here for a reason or just to chitchat?” you asked with curious amusement. He seemed obviously lost.

“Oh, uh, right! I’m supposed to ask you about the marriage certificate and the officiant thingy,” he remembered.

You smiled. “Tell Randy it’s already taken care of. He doesn’t have to worry about anything, okay?”

“Alright, I’ll-, uhm, I’ll do that,” Beau said and awkwardly cleared his throat, walking to the door.

“Oh, and Beau?” He spun on his heel when you called his name. “Make sure Randy doesn’t puke on his suit.”

An amused smile shaped on his lips at that, and he nodded. “Oh, I’m on it. Trust me.”

When Beau left your room and wandered down the hallway again, a weird sting plagued his heart. Deciding it was a feeling he didn’t particularly care for, he pushed it deep down, not even admitting his true thoughts to himself under duress and torture.

He’d feel like an ass if he ever did.

Beau looked up from his files on his desk when a knock ripped him from his reverie. It was already getting dark outside, the sun setting behind the mountains. He smiled up at you from his chair when you peeked your head inside.

“Hey, Jenny and I are back from the crime scene,” you informed him as you stepped inside his office, closing the door behind you.

“And?”

“It’s definitely the woman from the video,” you confirmed sadly.

“We got a name yet?” Beau asked, his face stern, concern and compassion carved into every crease.

“Yeah, Addison Hughes. Husband reported her missing four days ago in Jefferson County. I already talked to the sheriff there. They’re handing us over the case,” you told him and noticed his suspiciously cocked brow.

“Uh-oh, I know what that means,” he quipped teasingly. “Were you nice?”

You gasped in mock-disbelief at his accusation. “What d’you mean? I’m always nice.”

Beau snorted in amusement. “Uh-huh, that means no…”

“Wha-… Anyways,” you continued with a clear of your throat and a playful little glare at him, “Jenny and I talked to Mr. Hughes afterwards. He didn’t wanna admit that he cheated at first, but Jenny and I kinda went in on him till he fessed up.”

“Poor fella…” Beau muttered under his breath.

“Hm? What?”

“Nothin’. I said nothing.” He shook his head and gave you an innocent smile, but it didn’t stop your eyes from narrowing at him.

“Careful,” you warned and ambled over to his side of the desk. He pushed his chair back, making room for you between his thighs. “You don’t wanna defend a cheater. He got his wife killed. I have little sympathy for that.”

“Well, he’s definitely an ass for cheating, but even you gotta admit he didn’t really kill her. That’s still on the psycho running around out there,” Beau argued, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him. You involuntarily clenched when his face was in front of your crotch.

“Fine,” you conceded with a roll of your eyes, sliding your hands up his arms till they locked around his neck.

“‘Sides, I kinda get how quickly a mistake can happen, you know?” he said thoughtfully.

You arched your brow. “Do you mean me with that?”

Beau’s eyes widened, immediately shaking his head. “What, no! I mean, yeah, a little,” he stammered. Your frown deepened. “Not like that, obviously. Just remembered some stuff today… But we never cheated. I know that.”

“Do you?” you questioned rhetorically.

“I do,” he assured you and took your hands in his, kissing your knuckles in an attempt to soothe you. “Just sometimes feels like I betrayed him, you know?”

“I know. I get that. But you did nothing wrong, okay? You did not seduce me and steal me away from him, nor did you take advantage of me when I was a vulnerable and grieving widow. I’m a grown-ass woman. I make my own choices. And I chose you like you chose me. After Randy’s death and all those months in Mexico, I fell in love with you, too.”

A coy smile clawed at his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yes, you idiot,” you confirmed, your smiles matching.

He then pulled you onto his lap and claimed your lips in deep passion. You straddled his thighs and rocked against him, feeling the blooming erection in his jeans rub against your clothed cunt.

You unbuckled his belt and opened the zipper, Beau pushing down his jeans over his ass a little. Supporting one palm on his shoulder, your other hand climbed inside his boxers and grasped his dick. You thumbed his head and dribbled a few drops of spit down on his cock before moving your hand down his shaft, spreading it like lube on his velvety skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the backrest. With hooded eyes drunk with lust, one hand snaked under your shirt and pulled down the cup of your bra, palming and massaging your breast and rolling the nipple between his fingers. Your moan of pleasure was his reward as you pumped him with a tightening grip.

Both of you jerked up, however, as the door to his office suddenly flung wide open. Beau and you froze in your place, your fingers still wrapped around his cock, but luckily, neither of you was fully naked and your back hid most of the explicits. To your visitor, it just looked like an intense and very heated make-out session.

As you peeled your gaze over your shoulder, you recognized a woman in her mid-thirties who covered her eyes and quickly retreated through the door.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry. I’ll wait outside,” she excused and shut the door behind her again.

Beau gaped at you, green eyes wide in disbelief. “Y/N, did you not lock the door?”

You clasped your mouth with both hands, shaking your head with pupils as blown wide as his. “No, I thought everyone had already left when I came in here.”

“That’s the second time in three days,” he reminded you scoldingly. “Three days, Y/N! Twice!”

“I know! I’m sorry,” you whispered apologetically, still in shock, but a laugh of amusement escaped your throat. “Who was that lady?”

“I don’t know.” Beau’s brow furrowed in the same questioning manner as yours.

The two of you then sorted yourselves quickly, pulling pants back on and smoothing out shirts. You then stepped outside the office, where your female visitor was still waiting in the hallway.

“Uh, so sorry for that little, uhm…” Beau stopped mid-sentence, clueless on how to proceed and describe the scene while still sounding professional. “Anyways, how can I help you, darlin’?”

You threw him a small sideways glare at that and crossed your arms over your chest, Beau giving you one of his charming “can’t be helped” shrugs. Did he have to put so much flirt into it?

“Oh, uh, I apologize. I should’ve knocked,” the woman replied with a keen giggle, her cheeks blushing in fluster. She cleared her throat and regained her composure, introducing herself. “My name is Diane Newton. I’m the new DA for the Lewis and Clark Sheriff’s Department. I got assigned the serial killer case and wanted to look through your files on it. See what you’ve got so far.”

“Oh, uhm, sure,” Beau spluttered and swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind jumping back into work mode. Of course, it had to be the new prosecutor to find him with his pants down in his office. What a great first impression.

“Hi, uh, Sheriff Beau Arlen. Nice to meet you,” he said and reached out his hand for a shake. He then glanced at you. “This is actually Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N. She’s leading that case,” he introduced you before he nervously chuckled. “She’s, uh, my girlfriend. That’s why we, uhm… Wouldn’t want you to think that we-… I do this all the time.”

“No worries and no judgment here,” she said and waved off his concerns. “What you do after hours is completely your business.”

“Well, uhm, how about I show you the files now?” you offered and ushered her to your desk in the main room of the station.

“Oh, that’d be great!”

You threw Beau a wide-eyed look over your shoulder as you walked down the hall, mouthing “Why would you say that?” with a chiding shake of your head.

Beau only twitched his shoulders in a comical apology like a cartoon character and swiftly disappeared back into his office.

Diane stayed for two more hours before finally leaving. You went over every victim in Montana with her, not sparing any excruciating details, and told her a little about the other victims in the other states as well. By the end, you were exhausted and almost fell asleep at your desk, your head resting on the pile of files with closed eyes.

Just a few minutes…

“C’mon, let’s go home. You’re tapped out,” you heard Beau’s deep voice and soon felt his grasp around your arm, hoisting you gently to your feet.

You slung your arms around his neck and tiredly rested your head on his warm, broad chest, listening to his heartbeat underneath. He’d always been the best pillow. “Mmm, I don’t have a home here,” you murmured sleepily.

“Well, you know what they say, home is where the heart is, and I’m going back to my trailer, so…” He shrugged and grinned down at you.

“You’re such a dork,” you quipped. As you looked up at him, you bit your bottom lip. “You introduced me as your girlfriend earlier.”

He licked his smirking lips. “Well, you are my girlfriend.” His brow then creased momentarily. His insecurity was somewhat cute, you thought. “Right?”

You beamed and nodded, giggling. “Yes,” you confirmed and tiptoed up to plant a sweet kiss on his lips to seal it.

“How about before we go home, we finish what we started in my office,” he suggested cheekily and added, “I’ll even teach you how to lock a damn door.”

You snorted a small laugh and gave him another gentle kiss, this one lasting a bit longer and swinging with promise. “Alright. Teach me, Sheriff,” you agreed and smoothed your palms up his chest, smirking up at him.

“Oh, this just took a turn. Now, I know what I’m gonna do with you.” He chuckled wickedly and scooped you up in his arms, bolting down the hallway to his office as you squealed and giggled.

Chapter 5: Illicit Affairs – MAY 29

Will they ever learn? Probably not... 😆 We've had some juicy flashbacks these week... Past scenes that include Randy always make me sad 😭

More murder stuff and flashbacks next week! See ya 🫶

(Also I've been a bit slow with comments these days. It's been crazy busy life things, but I hope I can catch up with everything this weekend 🤍)

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

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@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

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Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser

#polaris #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you

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brasswazz · 29 days ago

Text

is this cringe idk

okay hi CONTENT WARNING!!!!!!!! this fic contains mentions of alcoholism and drunk driving!!!!!! so be aware of that as you read!!!!

okay enjoy BYE

It was late. Late enough that the headlights of his truck felt extra bright.

Before this he’d spent the evening at the Black Cats Casino. Not necessarily for its gambling qualities, but rather a drink or two seemed to calm his nerves. Definitely. Obviously. It was a rotational cycle between drinking, then talking, drinking, then drinking some more, playing a game of cards with a certain blond who begged you to try it out with him, ….questionable sloppy make outs in a lonely walkway involving said blond, back to drinking. Tonight felt especially tough. It had been about four months and three quarters since he’d appeared in family court.

She knew.

He knew she knew. Not fully aware of how, or why, but Diana knew. It was made clear when he’d woken up to an empty house and divorce papers with her wedding ring attached. Then came the court hearing. Ella wasn't there. Likely to keep things under the rug. The lawyers referenced purchases of mass amounts of alcohol, and the occasional hotel booking from their shared bank account. They argued for reasons of infidelity, and a long stream of substance abuse that he was, as of current, an “unfit parent in the case of Ella Amani.” Diana won sole custody that day. He’d never felt angrier.

Oh, Ella.

My sweet girl.

Focus on the road. That's what you need to do right now. The backroads helped him clear his head, the occasional halfway tolerable song queued over the truck's radio. He loved his car: Gabriel’s prized possession from his 20’s. A brown Ford-350 with beige accents along the rims of the truck. It had taken a couple beatings over the past two decades with him under the wheel, but it built character. It certainly would now, anyway.

He missed his daughter. His family. His life. More often than not did he wonder whether he made the right choices. If, hypothetically, he had the opportunity to go back and change things, what would be different? That was a double edged sword. He loved Diana, despite not particularly liking her. It went without saying he loved Ella. Did it?

Maybe if he’d been given a better start things would be different. And he could only try and implement that for the people closest. The world is cruel—therefore I wont be.

That line of thinking could only go so far for people with extremely punchable temples. Reece Reichel we’re all looking at you.

Reece had taken Gabriel under his wing after Frances’ death, nevermind the fact that he was the one responsible for it.

Gabriel took on some of that responsibility. Was the closest thing to a father figure dying right in front of him at the hands of a disgustingly rich nimwit directly his fault? TBD.

He cracked open his window, hearing the tires against the gravel, tiny rocks spitting up in the air as he drove. Both hands gripped the wheel, his eyes, just for a moment, shutting.

Take a breath.

Everything felt much louder than it was, hearing the crackle of his inhale in. Breathe in, and ou— HOLY FUCK WATCH OUT???

Semi Trucks weren’t uncommon on the backroads. Oftentimes utilizing them during the night to avoid Boston’s traffic. They slammed on their horn, catching enough of his attention to twist the wheel in time, swerving out of the way. Instead, opting to hit a wooden electrical post.

The white noise overrided every other sound. The airbag had gone off, glass littered over him, his eyes now squeezed shut as a mental precaution of bracing himself for impact.

This was it.

Except …. hold on—

wait what?

Gabriel's body had tensed so hard he didn’t dare to move. Small streams of blood seeped through his jacket. He’d have to scrub that out later.

….i’m alive.

The next thirty minutes were spent in complete silence, staring at the shattered windshield and the blinkers of his truck flashing in rhythmic on and off motions. He’d always been against drunk driving. Swore on his life that it would never be him on the news. Not when he had a daughter who could see him like that. But with her out of the picture for god knows how long? Gabriel cared a little less about what happened to him.

More importantly, what now?

This was his fault. He hated how it took a near-death experience to see that a little clearer. That's when he felt it. Once he started it was nearly impossible to stop. Tears fell from his eyes and onto his lap, only starting to pour heavier as the moment passed. Be happy you’re still alive. A curse and a blessing if you thought about it hard enough.

His hands unsticked from the wheel, gently clawing over his face. Unbothered by the small shards of glass stuck into his palms that were now scratching open his cheeks.

Gabriel was in the middle of nowhere. Hard to see much past the light his totaled truck was working double the amount to provide. He could work out simple directions, but in these conditions it wasn’t exactly ideal to navigate yourself anywhere while in hysteria.

A part of him wished he went with the car. He applied the “fuck around and find out” mentality with almost everything, and this wasnt the exception. Certain sudden death would be a treasure compared to anyone seeing him in his current state. The inside of his wrists pressed against his eyes before reaching for his phone. Didn’t seem to take much if any damage, as it still appeared functional.

1:46 AM. yeesh. Swiping through his contact list felt laughably ironic, contacting any of the available options were not entirely feasible. Let's see. He rapidly scrolled, glossing over some of the names.

Diana? No….No use in calling his bank tellers, Couldn’t call Frances for …obvious reasons, Reece was off the table for less than obvious reasons….

Tequila Sunrise. A stupid, strictly parasocial nickname he tossed around after Preston ordered it at another local bar they checked out on a date a few months back. Two shots tequila, grenadine, orange juice, and a skewer of maraschino cherries that stayed on the glasses rim. No guarantee he’d even answer, but lets be real; what were his other options? Sit on his hands and wait for help? Yeah right. Whether the choice to phone Preston was out of sickly intoxication or out of trust that he would pick up was anybody's guess.

Pick up.

Please pick up.

The phone routinely buzzed, maybe two or three times. Please.

“aghh—“ Preston grumbled on the other line, sounding as if he’d just woken up. His voice was low.

“Gabriel?” The only person's sound he could halfway tolerate.

Preston.

Oh, Preston.

“Hey, uhhm-“ Gabriel's tone could only hold so much of an emotional forefront before cracking between bits.

“What's up?”

“Would you be able to come get me?” They split up not all that long ago. Around forty five ish minutes as it stood.

There was silence. Silence followed by small ruffles of static through the receiving callers phone mic. Keys jingled.

“Where are you?”

Not “didn’t you call a cab?”, not “do you know what time it is right now?” “Where are you”. And where was he? What answer was acceptable?

“Along the backroads. I think. It’s hard to tell.”

No questions asked. An unspoken pact they both followed when the situation called for it. Considering their lines of work? On the odd day there were moments where no interrogating was necessary, nor productive.

He could hear the blondes heart sink over the phone. The feeling was mutual.

“Ten minutes. Tops. Stay there, okay?”

Okay.

#maraschinowrites …..kind of?#yeah no maraschinowrites #giggles #hi guys

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rejectedfables · 7 months ago

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Bits of foreshadowing that may connect and have pay-off before the end of Helluva Boss season 2, and/or in season 3:

Blitz offering to hire Stolas when they were children ("You'd be a good boss!").

Blitz avoiding paperwork and dumping it on Moxie.

Moxie having a hard time (emotionally) with the bookkeeping.

Stolas being excited to help Ozzie with technical paperwork ("I love words!").

Stella screaming "I'm going to take EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING you own!" at Stolas on the phone.

Andrealphus manipulating Stella towards divorce rather than murder (while mentioning Stolas' legions specifically).

The Looming Divorce.

What I think this will amount to:

Stella successfully takes Stolas for everything he's worth in the divorce, including his title and his legions. Blitz offers Stolas a job at I.M.P., where he does their bookkeeping. Stella takes the money and lifestyle she wants, and Andrealphus gets access to the POWER he coveted, kicking off bigger plot problems down the line.

Wilder speculations:

Blitz may be involved in the divorce hearing by being called to court as a witness against Stolas, to "prove" that Stolas cheating on Stella is the "cause" of the divorce. He, or Moxie and Millie, may also be called to court as witnesses of Striker having been hired (by Stella) to assassinate Stolas. He/they may also be called as witnesses of how Stolas' actions have "endangered" or negatively affected Octavia, if custody is part of this hearing.

As the wrecking ball scene in the trailer for S2 has yet to occur, and it seems likely it's the condemned building I.M.P. is located in getting destroyed, perhaps Stolas loses everything BUT the palace, and offers to let I.M.P. work out of his home. Or perhaps Stolas loses the palace too, they have to reestablish I.M.P. at a different location, and Stolas needs somewhere new to live.

---

As season 2 started with kicking off The Divorce, it feels appropriate for it to end with the culmination and consequences of said divorce. The nod toward Andrealphus potentially becoming a larger and more long term villain seems likely to be at least one of the cliffhangers this season will end on. Excited to see how it plays out!

---

NOTE: this post was made in 11/2024, after Ghostfuckers and before Mastermind

#helluva boss meta #helluva boss #hb #stolitz #stolas goetia #blitzø buckzo #blitzø #blitz #helluva divorce #vivziepop #vivziepop meta

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evidence-based-activism · 10 months ago

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women are not held accountable. I don’t remember paternity fraud being a crime. In most places, a man still owes women alimony even if she cheats. He still has to pay child support even if the kid does not turn out to be his. Innocent men are punished and you are talking about them not being held accountable lol.

Gender neutral laws are a joke in most civilised countries. It always favors women without fail.

It’s just excuses for women to avoid accountability as usual.

to protect men paternity tests should be legal and mandatory.

Why are women surprised when men want paternity tests? The laws are already unfair to men. It’s like making divorce illegal.

"women are not held accountable."

Held accountable for what?? Did you send this to the wrong blog?

"I don’t remember paternity fraud being a crime."

That's because it's a civil offense. Also, if you agree to take responsibility for a child only to back out when you find out the child isn't yours then you never should have agreed to take responsibility in the first place.

"In most places, a man still owes women alimony even if she cheats."

First of all, the purpose of alimony is not punitive, it's to ensure both spouses can maintain the same quality of life. That being said, in a fair number of states, if he can prove infidelity he can often avoid or greatly reduce alimony [1]. In addition, it's simple to avoid this even in states without this consideration; just get a prenuptial agreement with a clause concerning infidelity.

Beyond all that: alimony is paid by the higher-earning spouse. Given the extent to which men have prevented women from earning equal money (e.g., insisting on stay-at-home-mothers, excluding them from higher paying jobs, insisting on prioritizing their own career advancement over their wive's), it's reasonable that they bear some of the consequences of this decision (i.e., paying alimony to a wife they've prevented from earning equal amounts of money by their own actions) [2].

In addition, alimony has never been particularly common [2]. It was a part of less than quarter of divorces prior to divorce reform, and has only fallen since then (and the proportion of permanent alimony has fallen even faster).

"He still has to pay child support even if the kid does not turn out to be his."

If you have reason to believe that the child isn't yours, then seek out a paternity test (the court can and does order them when necessary). Often times there is a time limit (usually a couple years following the child's birth) in which you can seek out a paternity test. If you miss this deadline, then you've already agreed to take responsibility for a child, therefore you are responsible for that child. The courts will subsequently prioritize whatever is in the child's best interest.

"Innocent men are punished and you are talking about them not being held accountable lol."

Child support and alimony are not punitive, they are part of what you agree to when you get married and/or have a child. If you don't want to be held liable for alimony, don't get married. If you don't want to be held liable for child support, don't have unprotected sex.

"Gender neutral laws are a joke in most civilised countries. It always favors women without fail."

Do you have any evidence for this? At all? This is so vague I can't even try and find sources for you. What laws? About what? What "civilized" countries? (And how exactly are you defining "civilized" anon?) How do they favor women?

"It’s just excuses for women to avoid accountability as usual."

Women are consistently held "accountable" for not just their behavior, but for the behavior of the men around them. Here's two articles [3-4], one from back in the 1990's and one from 2022, both describing the exact same phenomenon: a culture of women being blamed for men's actions.

Also, here's an interesting laboratory experiment [5] that found that only men were less likely to blame low performance outcomes of female leaders on luck (as opposed to selfish decisions). But again, this study was interesting, but also doesn't invalidate the extensive cultural history of blaming women for men's violence against them and other around them.

"to protect men paternity tests should be legal and mandatory."

They are legal.

No, they should not be mandatory. No medical procedure should be mandatory; that would be a gross violation of personal autonomy. It's one thing for a court to order a test based on the specific circumstances of that case (this is reasonable), it's another to mandate that every women or child undergo a paternity test (that is not reasonable).

Also ... this doesn't have anything to do with "protecting" men. To protect is "to make sure that someone or something is not harmed, injured, damaged, etc." [6]. Raising a child that is not biologically yours does not harm, injure, or damage; therefore preventing this does not protect men.

"Why are women surprised when men want paternity tests?"

Well if she believes the two of you have been in a monogamous relationship, then she may be surprised at the implication that you have not been faithful. If she believes you're "one of the good ones" she may be surprised at your attempt to dodge parental responsibilities. Or maybe this is just the first time you've showcased your misogynistic beliefs, and she's surprised at your display of disrespect.

"The laws are already unfair to men."

I covered this earlier. No, they are not, and there is no evidence suggesting they are.

"It’s like making divorce illegal."

No, no it is not. A divorce is "the legal ending of a marriage" [7]. Such an ending does not absolve you of your responsibilities to your children nor does it absolve you of the legal contracts you agreed to. (One of which is the payment of alimony, in the event of a divorce, provided you are the higher-earning partner.)

References under the cut:

Alimony laws and forms: 50-state survey. (2021, January 18). Justia. https://www.justia.com/family/divorce/alimony-forms-50-state-resources/

McMullen, J. G. (2014). Spousal Support in the 21st Century. Wis. JL Gender, & Soc'y, 29, 1.

Blame-the-woman syndrome—The washington post. (2021, September 21). https://web.archive.org/web/20210921162019/https://www.washingtonpost.com/archive/lifestyle/wellness/1994/12/06/blame-the-woman-syndrome/50095e32-280a-441f-94d4-60c7c73eb11a/

“Blame her”: The cultural and legal phenomenon of accusing women | psychology today. (2022). https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/intersecting-law-and-mental-health/202204/blame-her-the-cultural-and-legal-phenomenon-of

Erkal, N., Gangadharan, L., & Koh, B. H. (2023). Do women receive less blame than men? Attribution of outcomes in a prosocial setting. Journal of Economic Behavior & Organization, 210, 441-452.

Protect verb—Definition, pictures, pronunciation and usage notes | Oxford Advanced American Dictionary at oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com. (n.d.). Retrieved 2024, from https://www.oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com/definition/american_english/protect

Divorce noun—Definition, pictures, pronunciation and usage notes | Oxford Advanced American Dictionary at oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com. (n.d.). Retrieved 2024, from https://www.oxfordlearnersdictionaries.com/definition/american_english/divorce

#feminism #patriarchal culture

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evita-shelby · 8 months ago

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The Wreckage

sequel to Look Both Ways where we get the reason why Lily left and why Tommy and Eva couldn't make it work after she filed for divorce.

cw: refrenced suicide attempt, mental illnesses, unhealthy coping mechanisms, angst, drama, murder accusations.

you know something nice to distract yall from the US Elections tonight

@justrainandcoffee @littlepeakydevil @zablife @call-sign-shark @hoodeddreams13 @thegreatdragonfruta

After Eva had that vision of Lily blowing her brains out, she takes the first train back to Small Heath and gets there just in time to stop her.

They have a much-needed talk, it falls on Eva to convince the redhead that it is not her fault.

Considering they are all in various states of disrepair, the witch fucking hates to be the Strong one while the other two points of the triangle get to lose their shit about it. Eva is too busy trying to keep them from hurting themselves to even mourn her own loss.

Tommy isolated himself and got so drunk he ended up in a holding cell for his own safety, Lily ended up believing the Shelby Clan’s words that she shouldn’t have remained Tommy’s lover when he decided to court and marry Eva.

Eva barely had time to settle in leased townhouse the Riley Family use in London before the Universe decided she could not just wash her hands of them and move on with her life. She hates it when her powers force her to be a better person.

The witch had to explain how her previous relationships had not left her in the condition needed to accept having a man who is not entirely hers, how she knows they will all be the better for it and that if anyone is at fault it is Eva for being too desperate to avoid her impending execution.

“How do you hold yourself together like that?” Lily had asked as she confided in her about her plans to seek out her maternal family. She needed time as well, they all did.

“Because neither you nor Tommy have given me the chance to properly fall apart. It's easy to hold yourself together when you don't have a choice.” The witch admitted wryly, she was as honest with Lily as she was with Tommy ---sometimes she’d use it to purposely hurt them to assuage her need of space and the fear that Tommy didn’t love her as much as she did him. “Trust me, I should have been in London crying my heart out and fucking a stranger with a thing for pregnant women instead of bailing Tommy out and keeping you from making my decision to save myself obsolete.”

“Then why save me? You could have been happy with him; you are giving him a child.” The redhead ---still wallowing in her despair and guilt--- demands to know why Eva didn’t seize her chance at happiness. “He said you told him you’d have four children and live in the country.”

“And if I had let you die, I would still be second place even if you were a ghost tormenting him. No life is worth living with a man who doesn’t love you the way you need him to anyways.” The dark-haired woman answered bluntly as they sat down a little further away from what would have been a crime scene.

“I can’t stay here. Not when everyone blames me for it.” By everyone she does mean everyone.

The Shelbys had taken Polly’s side and everyone else correctly guessed Tommy having a lover is what destroyed the fairytale romance.

It was a terrible place to be, Eva had barely considered how cruel they’d be to Lily, only focused on leaving a man who placed Lily and her needs over hers time and time again. Why Tommy couldn’t just marry her and avoid this mess was beyond Eva’s comprehension.

Marriage is safety when you do not love in the conventional way.

“Have you finally given my suggestions to find your mother and your aunt some thought?” she asked the Red Demon who had been reluctant on accepting Eva’s offer to help her find her family because neither she nor Tommy appeared to be capable or surviving without the other.

They could, they are just too pessimistic and they refuse to give it a real, honest try. Eva had been there once, and now seeks to pull them out of the dark waters even if they like it there.

“Yes, maybe if I had said yes when you offered the first time we wouldn’t be in this mess.” And because Lily wants to see if Tommy would be happy without her here. Not by being the ghost haunting him, but as the lover who left him. “You should’ve told me we were making you feel unloved.”

“I know, but I feared losing him, and while I do get on with you, I do not like you that way. We are just too different.” Part of Eva still wants the life she saw with Tommy that morning in Brighton. Is it wrong for her to desire her own happiness after life took everything from her? Why was she losing her one thread to life again? Why couldn't someone else be the one to sacrifice their happiness for her instead of her doing it every single time?

Perhaps with her unlikely rival out of the way, they can see if that vision can still be true.

“I had guessed as much. I am not as ignorant as Polly makes me look.” Her ex lover nodded in agreement, and both said their goodbyes before parting ways.

The last person seen with Lily was Eva. A gunshot was heard and only Eva came back.

There was no body nor signs of a struggle, but he knows what the witch is capable of. She had one demand when he refused to sign the papers in London.

Me or Her.

And when he refused to choose her then and there, he left to drown out his sorrows and make his choice.

He loved both women. He loved Eva fiercely, loved her fire, her strength and her ambition to take back everything she had lost.

But he loved Lily more. He couldn’t just leave her like this. It would kill her. He knew Eva was right, the witch had never been wrong even that rainy day they met.

“We will have everything we have ever wanted, mi amor.” She had proclaimed that morning after their wedding.

Four children, a baronetcy, a career in politics. They would be as happy and as in love as they were that morning.

He had been a fool to assume she saw Lily in it.

And because he was going to choose Lily over her, Eva killed her.

She was just as damaged as them. Lost everything she ever had, and now that she stood to lose the chance to have it all again with him, the witch took it.

What Lily was capable off wasn’t close to what Eva could do. Eva had the advantage of money and magic...and training in espionage and murder by a woman named Frida Solomons.

“You killed her!” he cannot contain himself when he finds her still packing up what she owned in Ada’s old room. She had moved there when it became clear he would sleep with both women.

Eva is shocked from his words angry in ways he had never seen. The words had hurt her like a blow to the stomach and woke the beast underneath the soft warm skin

“Oh, yes, because I would be so fucking sloppy as to have the murder weapon in my hands and be so obvious!” The witch mocks him and denies it. "If I had killed her, you would have never found out about it."

He should’ve known she wanted him to choose her.

He couldn’t choose so she choose for him.

“You killed Lily!” he shouts again as he comes to shake her and demand to know why she did this to her.

Eva slaps him hard enough to leave the mark of the wedding and engagement ring still on her finger.

“I didn’t fucking kill her! Why would I go through all the trouble of divorcing you if I intended to kill her?” the witch shouts back when even her hand on his cheek is not enough to break him out of that thought.

“Then where is she? Why were you the only one to come back here?” He knows deep down she didn’t and yet he cannot stop his mind from finding a reason to believe she did.

“She needed time away from here, to get away from a place that hates her. Just as I am doing.” We need to be away from you.

“Then why didn’t she tell me?” he asks the woman who he knows won’t ever forgive him.

“You wouldn’t have let her go, just as you are not man enough to let me go.” She hates as strongly as she loves, and now Tommy knows what the Witch’s anger feels like. “Just as you are so fucking full of it that you fucking came here and accused me of killing your precious Lily.

Me, the mother of your child, the wife you promised to love and cherish before God and Men; and you couldn’t even love me enough to give me the presumption of innocence.” Her anger turns to hot tears as she lets him have it. “I should’ve left England when I had the chance.”

Tommy has only seen Eva cry three times in his life. The day he taught her to shoot, the day she left him and the day he killed her love for him. She said she had lost the ability to cry all together when the last of her family died and yet he had been the only person to get her tears flowing again.

“I'm sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I know you would never do that.” Even when he means it, even when he tries to show her how truly sorry he is for the way he acted, for the fucking way he doubted her like this, his wife flinches away form him.

Moves away from him as if his touch physically hurt her. And it had, Eva felt things deeply, the same passion with which she loved was the same as the one she hated and grieved with.

“If it had been me who disappeared, you wouldn’t have accused Lily of killing me.” She won’t ever forgive him, there is no love for him in her eyes only hatred he created and he will have to live with that for the rest of his days. “You do not love me like you love her, now I wonder if you ever loved me at all.”

But he does love her, and that is what makes it all worse. He’s lost her even when that is the last thing he wanted to do.

“Evie, please---” Tommy chases after her, refusing to accept the defeat he crafted with his own bloody hands.

“I will never set foot here unless you are dead.” The witch refuses to look at him as she too walks out of his life and leaves him standing on the wreckage of their love.

She was right when she called him a fucking fool when it comes to love. Always right when it comes to him and not once has she ever lied to him.

Which is why he will set this right, even if it means following her to London.

story continues in Perhaps

#evacore #eva smith shelby #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy x eva #tommy x lily #lily callaghan

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ysmtttty · 8 months ago

Text

Again

Chapter 3 Read on AO3 or below || Chapter 2 Chapter 4 Lawyer AU where Eris and Nesta used to be rivals before she got married and decided to leave the field. But now she is divorced and determined to return to the legal field, even if it means working with Eris, not against him.

The case of Kallias progressed with great difficulty. Starting with the fact that absolutely everyone and everything tried to hinder them at every turn, and ending with the indifference they faced, as no one cared about some shelter. Nesta was seriously angry about this, not understanding how little empathy it took to have such an attitude.

However, just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, they did. It was a Tuesday when the situation with their case worsened significantly, given the looming deadlines and the approaching date of the first court hearing.

Nesta, out of habit, entered Eris’s office, intending to tell him what she had heard that morning. However, he met her with the same grim expression that made her think he had already heard what she was about to say.

"We need to talk," they said simultaneously before Eris gestured for her to speak first.

"The lab," Nesta said, expecting a nod or any other sign that Eris was aware, but he only looked at her puzzled. "There was a fire last night."

"Arson?" Eris frowned immediately.

"You think...?"

"It would explain their confidence during negotiations that we don’t have the analysis results. And most likely, we won’t get them."

Nesta had encountered something similar before. Yet even now, she felt unsettled by the lengths companies were willing to go just to save an extra dollar. The mere realization that a crime had been committed solely to avoid paying compensation made her feel sick. It brought both fear and anger.

The fire had destroyed the results of their independent inspection, which meant they would now have to move mountains to obtain them before the hearing. Considering how slowly their initial request was being processed, everything had become even more complicated.

Then Nesta noticed that Eris's face had grown even more tense, his hands nervously fidgeting with a familiar golden Parker pen, faster than usual.

"If you didn’t know about this, what did you want to talk about?" she frowned, realizing Eris was probably about to deliver more bad news.

"Nesta, sit down," he said in an overly gentle voice, adding to her tension. She cautiously took a seat in the chair across from him. Eris hesitated for a few seconds. "Last night, one of the children died from complications of the illness."

Eris explained something about a chronic disease that had worsened due to lead poisoning, but all she heard was ringing silence. White noise, completely blocking out all the sounds around her. Nesta didn’t know how she should react. Anger, regret, helplessness—these emotions rushed through her, clouding her reason. She was supposed to think about how this would change the case, their lawsuit, their legal strategy. She shouldn’t let emotions take over now.

For a moment, Nesta thought about what it would be like if her daughters were in the place of these children. If she had sent her kids to school without knowing that for months they had been exposed to chemical poisoning. If her daughters had been poisoned by lead. If...

Panic. She was seized by a wave of panic she couldn’t control. An endless stream of "what ifs" that wouldn’t stop. She seemed to be hyperventilating.

"Nesta," the familiar voice and hands on her shoulders brought her back. The voice, usually confident, arrogant, and smug, now sounded overly concerned and soft. "Breathe."

Eris frowned, breathing with her, helping her through the panic attack. His hands moved from her shoulders to her hands, gripping them tightly, grounding her. Eris watched her with a look full of concern, trying all the while to steady her breathing.

As soon as she regained her composure, she felt nothing but shame for allowing emotions to take over. She was supposed to remain detached. She had to control her reaction. She had to be a lawyer and nothing else while in this office.

"It won’t happen again," Nesta said quietly, trying to reassure Eris. "I can work on this case."

"Sorry," Eris said unexpectedly, instead of scolding or saying something else along those lines. He moved toward the dispenser and brought her a glass of water. "Sorry for not considering the details of the case earlier. I should have thought before asking you to take it on. You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to."

"I’m not weak," she said firmly, gripping the cup tightly in her hands. Her eyes gleamed with determination and unspoken frustration at seeming incapable yet again.

"I didn’t say that. But you don’t have to take on this case; it’s not the last one we’ll have, so..."

"I can work, Eris. I’m capable of it," she repeated. "I have to. And not only because I want to prove something but for those children."

"If you say so..." Eris sighed.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the day. Nesta desperately wanted to prove to herself and to him that she was capable. Eris gave her short glances, full of unspoken words, but he didn’t dare disturb her.

On Friday evening, they stayed late in the office. The hearing was set for Monday, and the soil analysis results had been anonymously sent to another lab with a request for expedited testing.

"We still need to conduct a full investigation into what happened at the lab," Nesta insisted.

Eris sat with a tired look, staring at his laptop screen, occasionally tapping a few keys, clearly in no hurry to finish whatever was open.

"There’s no evidence, not even much circumstantial proof. Our lawsuit will likely be dismissed from the start," he stated matter-of-factly. "You want revenge? Win the case and squeeze the maximum compensation out of those bastards that they can possibly afford."

The first hearing came sooner than they had hoped. Nesta, holding several folders, stood in the hallway while Eris did his best to pretend he wasn’t nervous at all. Despite all his persuasion, Nesta agreed to join as second lawyer, but today Eris would be the one speaking.

"Do everything like in the Gaber case, Vanserra," Nesta suddenly said, surprising both of them.

Eris looked up, a surprised expression on his face, and then, as if realizing what case she was referring to, he smirked.

"When I won the trial with almost zero chances?"

"Exactly, when you won with almost zero chances," Nesta nodded, leaving the folders on the windowsill and reaching for his tie to adjust it. "And when you absolutely infuriated me."

"You should’ve taken the lead as counsel," Eris smirked. "Your—what was his name?—assistant? Completely useless."

"That was my junior associate, and he just got nervous," Nesta rolled her eyes.

"Uh-huh."

"Don’t be an ass, Vanserra. I’m trying to support you," she grumbled, and Eris chuckled softly.

"If someone had told me before that Nesta Archeron would be supporting me, I wouldn’t have believed them," he smiled, taking the folders from the windowsill. "Will I get any other comforting gesture?"

"My presence here is already enough of a comfort gesture, don’t push it."

Eris smirked, ready to say something else, but they were called inside. The smile fell from his face, replaced by a serious, cold expression, and Nesta’s face mirrored the same severity, if not more.

Inside, Kallias was already waiting, having arrived in the courtroom. This was the first time Nesta had seen him in person; before this, Eris had handled all the meetings with him either outside the office or over the phone.

Nesta silently observed as the factory’s lawyers entered, all with serious faces and dirty looks aimed at Eris. The defendants took their seats, and the judge ordered everyone to stand as the court session began.

As Eris articulated his arguments clearly, each word was meticulously chosen, each sentence serving its purpose—they had spent all of Friday, and Eris likely the entire weekend, perfecting this speech—Nesta glanced toward the jury stand.

One of the women was definitely a mother; despite her attempt at maintaining a neutral expression, her face betrayed the empathy she felt for the affected children. Half of the jury might have been bought, but Nesta tried to push that thought aside.

"Your Honor, the prosecution has yet to prove that my clients were aware of the lead levels," the defense attorney stated when it was his turn to speak.

Eris glared at him, but the attorney ignored it, continuing his speech about how unaware his clients had been of the danger posed by their factory and how all sanitary inspections had shown everything was in order. Their defense could have been easily dismantled had they had the soil analysis results, which both they and the factory owners should have possessed.

"One must consider, Your Honor," the defense attorney continued. Nesta narrowed her eyes. This scoundrel was about to say something vile, and her instincts did not fail her. "That the owner of the shelter, Kallias Seaver, simply wants money and is therefore trying to blame my clients."

"Objection," Eris immediately interrupted, "speculation."

"Speculation or analysis of facts?" the attorney sneered, approaching the judge and handing her a folder with some papers. "Your Honor, before you are reports of Mr. Seaver’s debts to several companies working with his shelter."

Nesta sharply looked at Eris, and judging by his face, which displayed a storm of emotions beneath his impartial mask, he hadn’t known either. Kallias clenched his jaw, trying to burn a hole through the defense attorney with his glare.

After leaving the courtroom, the three of them walked to the parking lot. Nesta was about to ask Kallias something when Eris grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

"What the hell?" he snapped. "Why didn’t you tell us?"

Kallias, to his credit, remained calm, moving Eris's hand away and straightening his shirt.

"You said we would win the case."

"That was before the judge and jury started thinking you just want to get rid of the debts."

Nesta stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Eris's shoulder. "Calm down. This is just the first hearing."

"Maybe the last," Eris muttered threateningly.

"Eris..." Kallias began.

"We're not dropping the case," Nesta reassured, though her voice carried the same grim tone. "If the shelter can afford to cover the legal fees, we're still in the game."

Aside from the lawyer fees, which Kallias didn’t need to pay in this case, the expert evaluations and legal proceedings were still a hefty sum. And judging by the debts presented in court, covering all of it was quite a challenge.

"I didn’t think it would matter," Kallias admitted quietly, running his hand through his hair yet again. "I didn’t think they’d find out."

"Of course, they could find out," Eris sighed, calmer now than he had been moments ago. "And they did. And we could’ve prevented them from using it this way."

"These aren’t those kinds of debts, Eris," Kallias said, sounding utterly defeated, as Nesta gave him a sympathetic glance. "Our main sponsors pulled out because they didn’t want to bear the costs of caring for sick children. A shelter isn’t something you can just close and forget because of a lack of budget. Food, clothes, even basic electricity, all of it is on credit. I’m not gambling away this money."

Eris sighed, rubbing his face, while he and Nesta pondered what to do next. Kallias should have told them sooner, or at least given them a warning so they could have been better prepared.

"Let’s wait for the soil test results," Nesta suggested in a calm and rational voice. "They’ll lose, and in any case, they’ll have to cover all our legal expenses."

"Before they do that, I’ll borrow some money," Eris said. "Any more unpleasant surprises we should know about?"

Kallias just shook his head. After saying goodbye, Eris and Nesta headed toward the car. Nesta kept glancing at him as they walked, seeing the same irritation, stemming from his frustration with himself. She could easily guess what thoughts were swirling in his head.

Why didn’t he find out on his own? Why didn’t he think about this? Why didn’t he say something more convincing in their defense in court? Why...

Eris opened the passenger door for her, then got into the driver’s seat. The next court hearing was in four days. There might be more, but they chose not to talk about it, as it would only mean things weren’t going smoothly for them.

"This isn’t the way to the office," Nesta noted.

Eris just shrugged. "We did what we could today. I suggest we rest and regroup. I’m taking you home, Archeron."

"If we’re not going to the office, then turn left here," she said. Eris raised an eyebrow slightly in surprise at her commanding tone but didn’t argue. Nesta smirked at the thought that over the years, he had probably just gotten smarter and realized that arguing with her was pointless.

"Where am I taking you?" he asked, turning on the blinker and waiting for the green light to make the turn.

"You'll see," Nesta answered mysteriously, deciding not to reveal her plans just yet. "We’re supposed to be taking a breather, right?"

Eris squinted at her but chuckled and drove on. Nesta gave him directions from time to time until she told him to park on one of the streets. Which Eris did.

"Good job. You’ve officially proven you can follow orders," she said with a sarcastic smile.

"For you, anything," Eris replied with equal sarcasm, taking out the key and unfastening his seatbelt. "Now, where are we?"

Nesta unfastened her seatbelt as well and stepped out of the car. Eris followed her, walking down a now-familiar street as he started paying more attention to his surroundings. Nesta remained silent until they reached a small café.

"I should’ve guessed we were heading here as soon as we turned into this neighborhood," Eris snorted, opening the door and letting her in.

"I’m the mother of two kids; you couldn’t expect me not to get hooked on sweets again," Nesta laughed, entering the café.

The place hadn’t changed much over the years. Some might have thought the small café should’ve closed down by now, given that it didn’t get as many customers compared to other places in the area. But Nesta knew the owners received anonymous charitable donations from time to time to keep the business afloat. She herself had participated in such anonymous contributions a few times.

"They still make the best chocolate cake here," she smiled, sitting down at a free table. Eris chuckled softly and sat across from her.

"I doubt chocolate cake will help me stop worrying about our already messed-up first hearing, but I’ll trust the process," he said.

"Someone’s forgotten the rules," Nesta reminded him.

"No talking about work inside," Eris rolled his eyes.

It was a ridiculous rule they came up with a long time ago. They’d found this café during their first legal internship. It was in one of the buildings in this area, which made this café the first place they ate at. After that, Nesta fell in love with the place, and Eris just tagged along because they often had to work extra hours beyond the official ones.

On the first day of their internship, Nesta had overslept and, fearing being late, skipped breakfast. Eris had handed her a bag of pastries with what she thought was a condescending look and said something snarky like how the growling of her stomach was distracting him from focusing on the case details.

Despite his jerkish behavior, Nesta hadn’t planned on refusing the tasty food. At first, she tried. But within a few minutes, the smell of the fresh pastries was driving her crazy. So, taking advantage of the moment when Eris left the room, she wolfed down the entire croissant and then calmly continued listening to their mentor as if nothing had happened.

Later that evening, she asked where Eris had bought the pastries, and he pointed to this very café, saying it was the first place he found in his usual jerkish tone. Nesta, who had been about to thank him, changed her mind and instead said she was surprised he didn’t drop dead of a heart attack after stepping into an establishment without a Michelin star.

Two hours later, the two hungry students were walking back to the hotel when it started pouring rain. What had been a sunny day turned into a downpour, and neither of them had an umbrella. The best decision then was to run into this café since it was the closest place.

The owners, a sweet elderly couple, said they looked like two wet rats. Nesta had added that they were also two hungry rats, while Eris just took off his soaked coat—both his and hers—swallowing some snarky comment.

Margaret, the café owner, quickly ran off to make them two mugs of hot tea while Bart, her husband, dished out all the unsold desserts and snacks. And both refused to let them pay, saying that young students never have money anyway. Nesta had looked at Eris with sparkling amusement in her eyes, knowing it was probably the first time someone had called him poor.

The next morning, they returned to the café, paid, and left a generous tip. During their internship, the café became their main spot for meals. And even after they moved to the city after graduation, they would still visit from time to time, though now separately.

These days, Nesta would stop by to buy desserts for her daughters. Margaret nearly cried the first time she saw little Astrid, saying the girl was now like a granddaughter to her.

"So you come here often?" Eris asked, glancing around and evaluating the place.

"Astrid loves the chocolate croissants here," Nesta nodded.

"Wonder who she takes after," Eris chuckled and then gave their usual order to the waitress. Nesta wasn’t surprised that he still remembered what she always ordered. That jerk always annoyed her with his good memory.

Noticing his distraction, as he drummed his fingers on the wooden table, clearly thinking about what had happened in court, Nesta just shook her head.

"You really need to find a way to turn off your brain," she observed.

"I need to win the case and move on, and then I’ll think about rest," he smirked in response.

"Keep it up, and I’ll report you to Margaret," she teased.

"Oh no, the old lady will eat me and my workaholic ways alive," Eris joked, laughing. "Though she’s probably not working today," he noted, glancing toward the open kitchen, where it seemed the owners' son was working.

The waitress returned with two cups of coffee and two plates of chocolate cake. Nesta noticed that Eris was still pretending not to like sweets, lazily picking at his slice. Though she knew better.

Back in their student days, she couldn’t help but notice that when studying late at night for exams, Vanserra always had chocolate bars with him. And when he didn’t, he would stare longingly at her caramel candies, which she, unable to resist his sad-dog eyes, would offer him. Despite his snobby, judging look as if he didn’t want them, Eris always accepted them.

"You’ve got chocolate on your face," Eris said after they finished eating and asked for the bill, gesturing to the corner of her mouth. Nesta took a napkin to wipe it but missed the spot. "Not there," he said, taking the napkin from her hand and doing it himself.

She involuntarily froze. The last time Nesta could remember any interaction even slightly resembling this was more than a year ago with Cassian. They had been goofing around in the kitchen, but back then it felt forced, a fake sense of fun from the realization that their marriage was falling apart. Here? She had no idea why Eris’s small gesture felt like more to her than all the recent memories with her ex-husband, with whom she had been married for seven years.

“If we’re done with ‘unloading’ from work,” Eris snorted, leaving a generous tip on the table as they always used to do, “I suggest we head back to the car.”

Nesta simply nodded in agreement, getting up from her seat, and together they walked toward the car. Surprisingly, Eris didn’t immediately jump at the opportunity to start talking about work now that they were outside the café, though Nesta had expected that to be the first thing he’d bring up once they stepped out.

“How are your little troublemakers?” Eris asked instead once they were in the car.

“Is this your poor attempt at small talk?” Nesta smirked.

“Think of it as me taking an interest in my best senior associate’s life.”

“The girls are fine. Callista still brings home a new virus from daycare every other week, and Astrid continues to intimidate the boys at school.”

Eris chuckled softly. “I knew from the start that she’s got your genes.”

Nesta feigned outrage, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. “For your information, I didn’t bully anyone at school.”

“Just made them cry with a single look?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “How about you? How were you in school?”

“The most well-behaved student,” he grinned at her.

When they arrived at her house, Nesta almost invited him in. But something held her back. Perhaps it was the realization that, despite their easy conversation, Eris was still her boss. And why would he even accept such an invitation? Saving herself from potential embarrassment, she simply thanked him for the ride.

“Try not to drown yourself in ‘what if’ thoughts,” she said. “We’re going to win this case, Eris,” she added, feeling the need to reassure him, though she wasn’t quite sure why, as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

Instead of denying her statement, Eris merely smiled weakly. “Have a good evening, Nesta,” he said before driving off.

For three days, they had worked on the strategy for the second hearing. To say it was challenging would be an understatement. Nesta had been ready to personally go and threaten the factory owners because things couldn’t go on like this. And then she received the soil analysis results, and everything got worse.

“Don’t tell me this lab burned down too,” Eris sighed, noticing her furious expression as soon as she walked into his office and threw the lab report folder onto the table.

“Worse,” Nesta gritted through her teeth, starting to pace around the room. “The test results are negative. All of them.”

Eris looked at her in disbelief. “That’s impossible. Even an idiot would know there should be at least a trace of lead in the soil around the factory.”

“There isn’t,” Nesta sighed, stopping as Eris got up from his desk and stood in front of her. “Three meters deep and nothing.”

Running his hand through his hair, Eris tried to mentally find an explanation. “We sent the request anonymously. The factory owners couldn’t have tampered with the results unless they bought out every lab in the city, which is impossible.”

Nesta bit her lower lip. “They didn’t have to,” she said, pulling out another document from the folder and handing it to Eris. “We tested the soil at the shelter’s property. Look at this.”

Eris scanned the document and let out an irritated huff. “Charitable land improvement? Let me guess, anonymous.”

“Yes, someone just decided to plant trees and replace all the soil, exactly three meters deep, across the entire property,” Nesta confirmed with the same irritation. “Clearly not out of the goodness of their heart. Those bastards knew it would go to court and removed any evidence.”

While Nesta struggled to channel her anger into work, Eris frowned as he read through the document. Noticing his expression, she couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong?”

Eris stayed silent, setting the document aside and going over to his desk, rummaging through the pile of papers scattered across the wooden surface in a rare display of disorder for Eris Vanserra.

“The improvement was done four weeks after the initial lawsuit was filed,” he said.

This time, Nesta frowned. “Four weeks? Projects like that are planned months in advance. Even if it was charity, the company wouldn’t have been able to prepare it all in time. Unless…”

“Unless they knew about everything from the start,” for the first time in days, a smirk touched Eris’s lips, signaling that they had finally found what they’d been looking for.

“The charity being anonymous doesn’t prove anything,” Nesta said, though she understood that they were now on the right track. “But if they knew ahead of time, they wouldn’t risk losing money in court.”

Exchanging a glance, as if the same thought clicked in their minds simultaneously, they both returned to the table, searching through the chaotic pile of documents for the one they needed. Nesta was focused solely on finding the insurance document, definitely not on how many times their hands touched—four—while they searched.

“Here,” Eris was the first to find it, handing the document to her. Nesta scanned it, and it was her turn to smile. “Judging by the size of your grin, the amount is at least five times higher than regular factory insurance.”

“Explains why they were so quick to offer a hundred thousand per child,” Nesta said, turning the document toward him so Eris could read it too. “Congratulations, Vanserra, you found the golden ticket.”

“We found it,” Eris smiled, taking the document from her hands.

And maybe it was the rush of emotions, finally positive after days of endless stress. Maybe it was exhaustion from the long workday and driving around the city. Maybe it was her foolishness. Because, still smiling, Nesta suddenly kissed him.

#acotar #eris vanserra #neris #eris x nesta #nesta x eris #nesta archeron #pro neris #neris fanfiction #nesta acotar

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