#but fuck if it doesn't make it more obvious to me now that my ex never actually fing saw me

[lumielwinchester]

I'm watching "My happy marriage" on Netflix and God damn is this girl annoying! People are throwing her less than breadcrumbs and she thanks them for it. Hell, those the "good-ish guys" are throwing her fucking rat poison and she still thanks them for it.

I was hoping there'd be some character growth, that she learns to recognise the abuse around her and learns to stand up for herself. And while there's been some of that as well as trusting her husband's family that is actually worth trusting. She still not even remotely recognises, how 95% of people don't give a shit about her personally and only want to use her for her power. Half her family literally abused her because they thought she had no power and the other half left her to that abuse before they found out she would be useful. And this girl still fucking thanks them for it!!!

She has been abused for such a long time and the fact that no one sits her down and explains to her that it wasn't her fault, that she didn't deserve to be treated like that and needs to ask for help, if ever anyone else locks her away or forces her to do things she doesn't want to do, is upsetting in its own right.

God damn it. I hate romantic anime.

[writingouthere]

neighbor!Sukuna x singlemom!reader, you go to check out a potential apartment and Sukuna joins because he is very helpful. Longest one yet so strap in!

cw:Sukuna waving his red flag like a matador while you do your best SZA impression

Sukuna thought you seemed more stressed than usual when he got home. You still talked through dinner and entertained your daughter but he could tell something was weighing on you. While Bug chased some very melted ice cream around her bowl with her spoon, he brought over some dishes to where you had already started washing the pans you'd used to make dinner.

"Thought I was responsible for the dishes since you made dinner," he reminded you, gently nudging you out the way.

"It's really not a bother and besides, you're already doing us such a big favor, letting us stay here," you said and you sounded a little choked up at the end which made him turn the water off so he could give you his full attention.

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't mind?" He couldn't help some frustration edging into his tone which only made you look sadder. He sighed and dried his hands on the towel, a new addition you had gotten, it was covered in sunflowers and it reminded him of you every time he used it.

"What's going on, you seem off today?"

You hesitated and he put his hand on your shoulder. He preened when you put your smaller hand on top of his and squeezed before giving you his full attention.

"I-I went to go see an apartment today and it was just awful." Sukuna barely fixed his face in time for you to look up at him. He had no idea you were even looking at other places. You'd barely been at his place a month and he had thought you had a good routine going on. You both split the household responsibilities and you spent your time not working together. He picked up your daughter twice a week now from daycare and took over Sunday mornings so you had some time to yourself. Someone at the grocery store had cooed over your adorable family and you hadn't even corrected them.

Obviously, you still weren't getting it and Sukuna reminded himself that it wasn't your fault. It was still like pulling teeth to get you to talk about your ex and honestly what he'd heard about your family hadn't really impressed him either. You had been taking care of yourself for far too long and it only made sense that you would be worried about being a burden on him when other people had made you feel like that rather than seeing caring for you as the privilege it was.

"Why was the apartment so awful?"

You bit your lip and he felt some concern that wasn't related to you potentially leaving. "What?"

"It was the usual, you know. It was over my budget and it was too small, I mean Bug is getting bigger every day, she needs her own room too. Then the building looks like it's only days away from collapsing and the guy who showed it, I mean he was just such a creep."

"Creep, how?"

You sighed and squeezed his hand again, but he wasn't sure if it was for your sake or you were trying to calm him down since he was sure his anger was obvious.

"It doesn't matter-

"Of course it matters, you're trying to find a home for you and your kid and some guy is making you feel uncomfortable in the space you might end up living-"

"-well I'm not going to live there, so. Doesn't matter," you say stubbornly and Sukuna hums but doesn't argue.

It's clear this is weighing on you, and while Sukuna has no intention of you moving out, unless it's him along with you, he figures this is a two birds one stone situation. Because fuck him if he was going to let you wander around the city being harassed by some dumb fucks who thought they could take advantage of a single mom.

"Are you seeing any other places," he asked and you bit your lip.

"Well, there was this one other place but after today I'm not sure-"

"Let me go with you," he said and you looked up at him and well, with the tears just beginning to fill your eyes and the little glimmer of hope he could see peaking out, how could he do anything but assure you. "Let me go with you and you can look around the place without worrying about anyone bothering you. Besides, it would make me feel better if I could scope out the place you and Bug might be moving to. I want to make sure you'll be safe."

Of course, you two would be safe because you would be with him but whatever got him to the showing.

"What about Bug?"

"Yuuji can watch her. He's been dying to babysit since he met her."

This was true. Sukuna's brother was suspicious, rightfully, of Sukuna and his intentions towards you, but Bug's cuteness was a great distraction whenever the three of them were together.

"Okay, okay. Tomorrow, could he watch her tomorrow?"

"Let me call, him. Don't worry, I'll take care of you, okay?"

You nodded and Bug started calling for you both. You went over to give your toddler the attention she clearly wanted while Sukuna finished the dishes and thought over how he would handle this situation tomorrow.

-------------------------------------------

The next day, Yuuji showed up bright and early with the two idiots that were always with him these days. Sukuna rather liked the Fushiguro kid but the woman that was always with him still got on his last damn nerve. Her and Yuuji together were a threat to decency laws and his fucking eardrums.

"Morning! Where is my precious baby girl," Yuuji cooed stepping in as if he still lived there as Fushiguro gave him a quick nod and Kugisaki walked in without even a hello.

"She's not your baby," Sukuna said, shutting the door a little harder than necessary.

"Well, she isn't your baby either, so."

Before Sukuna could literally murder his brother, you came out with Bug on your hip.

"Uji!!" Your daughter loved Yuuji and you put her down so she could run over and greet her favorite uncle.

"Thank you so much for watching her," you said grabbing your purse off the counter. "Are these your friends from school?"

The two freeloaders introduced themselves while Yuuji started flying your daughter around like he was a plane. At least your daughter would be tired by the time you two got back.

"Let's get going, we got to get there by nine," Sukuna said, putting his hand on the small of your back and directing you towards the door. There were several loud calls of good-bye and good lucks as you two shut the door and made your way to the car.

When you get to the apartment, the super is waiting at the front door of the building. Sukuna sees him shoot you a smarmy grin that abruptly drops off when he takes Sukuna in.

"Good morning miss, I wasn't aware you were bringing your...."

"Partner," Sukuna states firmly and holds out his hand. "Pleasure," he says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. You only look on in amusement as the fucker shakes his hand and then turns his eyes back on you, much more subdued than he'd been at first.

"Right, so the apartment is on the fourth floor. A walk-up but good way to stay in shape..."

He drones on as you and Sukuna follow behind.

"You cannot carry a stroller up four flights of stairs," he says in a tone that the super can definitely hear. "Bug also can't walk up four flights of stairs, especially after a whole day of daycare. Besides these stairs look like they might crumble and drop you to the fucking basement at any second." You smack his arm and the super looks pissed off until Sukuna stomps on a particularly wobbly stair for emphasis and he looks a little nervous. No way he was letting Bug walk up this deathtrap.

He keeps a running commentary of everything he sees, none of it good on the way to the apartment. The cracks in the ceiling, the chipped the paint, the flickering light on the third floor stairwell that makes him feel like they stepped into an 80's slasher flick. On and on he goes and he doesn't stop once they're in the shithole apartment itself.

A one bedroom, not nearly enough space for two, definitely not three which makes him even more irritated at the fact he clearly hadn't factored in at all to the choice in apartment.

He's in the middle of guessing outloud if the shower head would fall on top of you in the first week or the second when you snap.

"I know it's a piece of shit, Sukuna. I'm not an idiot, I'm desperate." You are more irritated than he's ever seen and the fucking creep of a super shoots him a smirk before Sukuna turns the full force of his glare on him. The man mumbles out something about giving them time to take in the space and leaves them alone, the door closing firmly in his haste.

"I don't think you're an idiot," Sukuna says, more calm than he feels because he definitely feels a type of way about all of this. "I just don't think this place is right for you or Bug. Do you expect me to apologize for caring?"

"Is that what this is? You come here to help me and all you've done is shit on the apartment and scare that poor man half to death."

"That poor man was fucking makes eyes at you until he saw me behind you."

"I know, but he got the point when you squeezed his hand so tight I think one of his knuckles popped!"

Sukuna snorted at that and even you seemed a little amused. You sighed and leaned against the wall behind you.

"I can't live with you forever Sukuna, we need a home."

Sukuna wanted to scream, to shake you and say that he was your home. Home for both of you but he knew you weren't ready to hear it and that if he misstepped you might end up living somewhere that seemed a strong breeze away from collapse.

"It's not forever," he finally said and this was true. You would need a new place soon, just not this place. "When I say I don't mind, I mean that I like having the two of you with me." You seemed a little surprised by this admission and Sukuna weighs his next words carefully.

"You're my friend and I care about you even if I have an unconventional way of showing you." You scoff and Sukuna presses on, he can see you softening. "Just wait a little longer. This place isn't good enough for the two of you but another place might be. I'd rather you stay with me longer and find the right place instead of rushing and choosing somewhere shitty because you think you're putting me out or something."

"What guy wants some mom and her kid crashing with him for months on end," you ask and you seem almost genuinely curious.

"You're not some mom, you're you and I happen to really like that kid." You smile and Sukuna knows he's got you. "I mean as we speak she's probably putting Yuuji and his loser friends through the ringer and that's reason enough to keep her around."

"You think anything will be broken by the time we get home," you ask and he feels the clump of blood and flesh that makes up his heart squeeze just a little tighter. Home.

"Oh, definitely but that's why we're not paying them for their services." You laugh and Sukuna walks a little closer to you. You watch him, a little confused but he thinks he sees some anticipation too as he closes in on your space and puts a hand on your cheek. He leans in and he knows he's not making it up that your eyelids flutter as he gets closer.

It's tempting but when Sukuna kisses you for the first time, it's not going to be in a place like this while some scumbag is probably listening through the door.

"Let's go home," he says and he presses a gentle kiss against your cheek. You'd done the same to him many times by now and he can see the appeal when he hears your sharp intake of breath and finds himself surrounded by the smell of your shampoo.

While your quest to find an apartment was unsuccessful, Sukuna thinks that important progress was made today. It fills him with a sense of contentment that manages to sustain him even as the two of you come home to an apartment overflowing with chaos and a spiderweb of cracks across his tv.

When he goes to kick Yuuji's ass, Bug makes sure to lend her support to her poor uncle by clinging to Sukuna's leg and laughing while the two men roll around on the floor to your amusement.

Like he would ever let you leave this.

also people have been suggesting that I make a masterlist or create some sort of tags and while I know what these are(kind of), I'm also not sure the specifics so any advice on how to make this all easier to find would be appreciated! I've been creeping on tumblr for literally over a decade but never written like this before.

[skepticalkoi-catastrophe]

𝙏𝙧𝙮𝙣𝙖 𝙁𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙑𝙤𝙞𝙙

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends to Lovers, Exes to Best Friends, Hinted Exes to Lovers

Warnings: Mentions of physical harm to y/n (bruises).

Word count: 577

PART 2 HERE

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 「11:37pm」 - 30 days or more was the minimum. That was the agreement made to ensure there were no hard feelings. Once the distance grew, you knew there was no going back. But you never really forget how someone makes you feel.

He had driven to your location to pick you up from an event being held by major Guild Masters. Wrong number. Right time, you figured as you could've swore it was a cab service you called and not his personal phone number.

Mentally cursing yourself as you stood beside him in the rising elevator, that bottle of gwasilju nears its end in your system.

"I already told you I called you by accident." You insist as he walks you to his familiar apartment front door.

Jinwoo's lips go flat while unlocking it, leading you inside. "Accident or not, I wasn't going to leave you there alone. You called, I came."

It was obvious he was worried about you. He managed to bring a jacket to wrap around you and some slides for your feet as he predicted they'd hurt by the end of the night. Habits like these were hard to break.

Much like him getting you a glass of water, fresh washcloths and towels, and one of his shirts to sleep in.

"Jinwoo, I'm serious. You don't need to do all this. I'm fine." You glance up to the ceiling. "It's not their fault I wondered off."

"Regardless, you're here now, so just ease up a bit."

He's always been so stubborn when it came down to you. You nod, stumbling somewhat to the bathroom, him not far behind you. Gently, he took your hand, sitting you down on the rim of the bath tub, massaging cleansing oil onto your face.

Jinwoo knew better, but he couldn't shake you. Your presence reminds him of a simpler time.

He continued your nightly routine, him leading you to his bedroom where your clothes were. "If you want, I'll sleep on the couch."

"It's okay, Jin, I just...this is hard on us both."

Right. Just months ago, you and him did this same song and dance. It wasn't fair how both your duties as hunters found precedence over what was once shared. He's snapped out of his thoughts as you began changing, not bothering to tell him to look away.

"It doesn't have to continue like this - what is that?" His question plummeted swiftly like a guillotine's blade.

You didn't budge, pulling his shirt over your head. "It's nothing. You know I'm careless."

"I won't ask again. Who did that to you?" He approaches you from behind, fingertips barley making contact as you wince. Purplish blue watercolor lined your ribs, tender to the touch, causing you to flinch.

"Let's just say it was a physical disagreement between guild members." You let out a harsh breath. "If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy."

"That's not funny y/n....you've probably had this for weeks, and you weren't going to tell me?"

"And tell you what, Jinwoo? The last thing on my mind was to go crying to you about my problems. You're not my boyfriend anymore." You choke back a lump in your throat upon exit of your sentence. His shirt now draped over your body. "No contact. That was the deal."

"Fuck the deal!" A line appears between Jinwoo's brows. "I never stopped caring."

That was it. The linchpin.

"...What?"

Please comment, like, and reblog if you enjoyed it

[sunny44]

All these years (Part 2)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend! Reader

Warnings: bad words, fights and maybe more things

Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It was a long journey to Monaco.

My mother wanted me to stay at home and I really didn't want to, so I just arrived at the hotel I was going to stay at.

"What do you mean there's a problem with my accommodation?"

"I'm sorry Miss Y/l/n but your reservation was canceled two days ago."

"I didn't fucking cancel it."

"I did." I turned and saw my mother standing there. "Come on, Y/n."

"I'm sorry." said the receptionist who agreed and I followed my mother outside. "What's wrong with you? I said I didn't want to stay at your house."

"And I said I don't care what you want or don't want."

"So you called the hotel impersonating me and canceled my reservation? How did you know I'd be staying at this hotel?"

"It was obvious that you'd be staying in the hotel closest to us." I rolled my eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me, young lady."

"Then stop acting like you're the boss of me."

"But I am."

"No, you're not, the moment I moved out of your house and started supporting myself you lost that right and in case you can't count it's been years."

"Get in the car."

"I'm not going home, I told you."

"And I've told you that none of the other hotels will accept you there, so you either stay at home or sleep on the street. Now get in the car."

"I came by car so I don't need your ride."

I got into the car and slammed the door, driving off as fast as I could.

This was another reason why I hated coming here.

My mother.

Ever since Charles and I split up, she turned into this completely cold person, said I'd ruined everything and that I should have said no to the promotion and stayed here.

But her vision of a woman with the perfect life was to be married to a guy who worked to support his wife and kids.

That's what her mother, my grandmother, taught her, and that's why she's always been like that, so she thought I'd fall for it too.

I got home and after parking I saw my father coming out of the house and he smiled when he saw me.

"Hi my love, I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too, Dad." I hugged him tightly and he kissed my forehead.

"Where's your mom?"

"She’s probably coming, I drove here."

"She said she'd pick you up."

"She did, but I drove from Milan so...”

"You had a fight, didn't you?" I agreed. "Love, you have to make things right with her."

"No, she's the one who has to apologize to me." I looked at him. "Since when is a mother disappointed by her daughter's success?"

"She wasn't disappointed in you."

"Yes, she was and you know it, her dream was for me to marry him, get pregnant and live the life of a madam who doesn't do anything the way she does."

"Darling, your mother was raised like that.”

"So was I, but I took different paths, so it's her fault. We decided our own future and she decided hers and I decided mine." he agrees quietly. "Can you believe she canceled my hotel reservation and even called others so they wouldn't accept me just so I'd stay here?"

"Did you do this Jessica?" He asks and I turn around to see my mother standing there.

"You're barely home and you're already causing friction between me and your father, aren't you?"

"There wouldn't be any friction if you didn't do shit like that."

"Look at the way you talk to me in my house," she says angrily.

"I didn't even want to be here, you brought me here so take the consequences."

I picked up my suitcases and took them to my old room. It was completely different, but since I'd taken most of the things that made up my room, it ended up becoming a guest room.

"Y/n." Knocks on the door and enters. "We are having dinner later at the Leclerc's, okay?"

"I don't think I'm going."

"Why not?"

"Kind of obvious, isn't it?" I say and he laughs.

That's what I liked most about my father, he understood my jokes and ironies and was always in a good mood.

"Well, it's up to you, but Arthur asked me to tell you that if you didn't show up he’d come and pick you up."

"Then he'll have to come." My father laughs and leaves.

tag list: @formulas-bitch @nuggetvirgo @lndonrris @cmleitora @janeholt3 @coffeewhore18 @blueflorals @agentadhd @eviethetheatrefreak @honethatty12 @lec-16 @ariamox @boherahpsody @ssararuffoni @leilani13gc @alldaysdreamers @minmira95 @dessxoxsworld @dessxoxsworld

The names with a line above were because I couldn't tag them

[kidconsky]

Okay.... Let's analyze what happened in dcmk these last few weeks. Obvious SPOLIERS will be commented so you know.

> Appearance of Aoko's mother in Magic Kaito.

Where was she all this time? Why did she never appear or even show a sign of life? She didn't even call her daughter on her birthday... She appears so oblivious to everything, she didn't even know who Kaitou Kid was since her husband has always been obsessed with trying to catch this thief for YEARS. It seems like Gosho just randomly placed her in the story without trying to connect with the canon, it's almost as if she was a character outside of her original manga.

> Film 27 and its breaks in logic and common sense.

After all these years, Gosho decided to go against everything he had already said and made the Kaishin to be cousins, not only ruining a unique relationship (whether you shipped or not) but also bringing plot holes and contradictions in the story. If they are cousins ​​what's the excuse for them never trying to even interact before? Why was it that when Yukiko first met Kaito, she never acted like she was related to her? The same with Toichi, she always talked about him as just her teacher and NOTHING more than that, it doesn't make sense to put that in the story now. Why did Kaito never even have support from his family? Not even showing up at Toichi's symbolic funeral? How come Yusaku never went to talk to his late brother's family, even if he knew the truth KAITO DIDN'T KNOW...

No one even considered his feelings...

> All the bullshit involving Kaishin.

The biggest problem for me about them being cousins ​​is not just because of the ship but because of all the history and construction they had. It's as if everything that's different about them is summed up in the simple fact that they're related. But Kaishin has always had something unique, something that Gosho himself defined as "a mysterious bond". Them not having the slightest type of relationship made everything so unique, a connection that only the two of them could have together, one would easily understand the other even though they were complete strangers. Now I feel like they want to throw that away.

> TOICHI KUROBA AND MY HATE FOR HIM.

Gosho had already said that Toichi was possibly alive but the confirmation brought me a wave of anger and contempt that I had never felt for any other dcmk character (even bo). Let's think about Kaito in this whole story:

• lost his father when he was just a child and is still traumatized by it today.

• for 8 FUCKING YEARS he discovers that his father's death was never an accident but a murder.

• His father was actually an internationally wanted thief who was after a precious stone capable of bringing immortality.

• he steps into his father's shoes as KID and decides to try to find out for himself what happened to his father, who killed him and why.

• now there is a criminal organization that thinks he is the KID who didn't really die and they are trying to kill him once and for all.

• he decides to put himself at risk looking for Pandora, being something belonging to the organization and the police themselves.

• a lot of people hate him, regardless of whether he hurts people or not.

• more and more he becomes more and more removed from everything and becomes burdened with the KID charade.

• his own mother doesn't care about him, on the contrary, it seems like she likes to make things even more difficult for her son (she disguised herself as her dead ex-husband just to screw with her son's head, that's sickening to say the least).

• everything Kaito does is because of his father's murder, he never wanted to be KID, he never liked stealing, he doesn't do any of that for pleasure (except when it involves a certain mini detective but that's not the focus now ).

• and in the end his father was ALIVE all this time, doing who knows what while his son was risking his life because of him... BRO...

This whole thing is insane. And not in a good way.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Why the fight for queer rights isn't over (it should be obvious, but to some people it isn't)

TW: transphobia and homophobia

Hi, Tumblr, this is Asmi. If you know me, it's probably as the Good Omens Mascot, which is flattering. I've found so much love and queer positivity in the good omens fandom, and the beautiful thing is how it's canon. Many people outside the queer community don't realise how crucial media and communities like this are. Right now since I'm on break from education, I'm on tumblr for most of the time I'm awake (which is not a lot, I nap more than Crowley). It's wild how different it is from the real world, that I live in at least.

I'm sure a lot of you might have had a similar experience to this: Basically, two people in my life, my bio father and my ex, both told me to my face that queer people needed to stop calling themselves oppressed and how now it's queer people who hold all the power and are oppressing other people. With all due respect, what the fuck.

I live in India, and being a trans guy who is bi and aspec, it's a cesspit. While I'm gendered correctly on Tumblr, and people are so loving and supportive, in real life even my friends who say they support me misgender me 90% of the time. Same with my family. In my previous college which I had to leave because of bullying by both the students and admin, even the queer students would misgender me (I told them I used they/them pronouns, because he/him would have been too unsafe, but even that they didn't manage). In the college I'll join next, it won't be safe for me to be out at all, at risk of losing opportunities and safety. Gay marriage is still illegal. Homophobia and transphobia is the norm. This doesn't even cover all the daily indignities like queerphobic jokes, casual discourse on whether or not we deserve rights, etc. Discrimination against aroace-spec people is rampant even within the queer community, worldwide.

And I live in an urban area, one of the largest cities in India known for its progressiveness and for being relatively safe for queer people. I am privileged compared to other queer people here. The story in other cities, in rural areas which make up most of the country, is far more horrifying. I'm unqualified to speak about anything other than my own experience, but if you can (if you are in a stable and calm enough mental state to handle the information, please put your mental health first) I'm sure there are first person accounts on the many forums.

The fight for equality is not over. It doesn't end with laws riddled with loopholes, it doesn't end even with laws that genuinely help the queer community. Aside from the huge problems of living safely and with access to equal opportunities and resources for people, we deserve dignity, peace, and the right to feel accepted and that we're not an abnormality. And so much more.

I haven't said anything that hasn't been said before, but it can't be said enough. To the queer people reading this, take all my love. We need to stand together, eliminate discourse over who is queer enough to be queer, and be the safe space that the world will not provide for us.

It's not over, and it hasn't been won by a long shot, but what matters is that we're fighting. Even existing as ourselves in a world that tells us it is a crime, is defiance and a step towards making this right.

[demonslayerunhinged]

Unhinged theory

Sanemi and Giyuu are exes (Part 2)

Ok so this part is just spoilers galore but if you don't mind then ok. Here's part one.

The second beginning

During the final battle after they have both unlocked their demon slayer marks. They are more open with each other, Sanemi has learned to trust others and Giyuu has learned to trust himself and Sanemi throwing the sword is awesome for him because it's Sanemi telling him that 'I trust you, don't let me down!' and Giyuu thinks 'Yes! I'll do my best!'. The previous training that they've done now comes into play because they know each other's moves and are able to fight together seamlessly!

The last shot of them eating Giyuu's favorite dish together not only calls back to Sanemi's offer, but I feel that it's also a way for Giyuu to begin opening up, like he's telling Sanemi 'This is me' and that he wants Sanemi back and wants to mend their relationship.

The side eye Sanemi's giving Giyuu is so funny because he seems wary. I can just imagine their conversation.

Sanemi: You'd better not fuck this up again, or I will leave your ass for good.

Giyuu (already playing the part of the whipped husband): Yes, dear.

Some proof

Like I said in the Part 1, I already talked about the romantic undertones in Giyuu's attempts to connect with Sanemi by his body language and expressions. It's obvious Giyuu wants him and now that Tanjiro has touched his heart a second time, he now has a stronger understanding of his emotions and what he wants.

Here, I'll list a bunch of tidbits that point to them having a previous relationship.

Giyuu and Tanjiro's discussion about Sanemi post coma-inducing punch should've stopped at theories as to what type of bean paste he likes, but they kept on talking about him. I don't think Giyuu would do that if he didn't know more stuff about Sanemi, maybe through their past interactions, his own observations or both.

Giyuu describes Sanemi as grumpy and hot-tempered in the Corps records, contrast this with his thoughts on Obanai. He feels sad and doesn't know why our snek boy doesn't like him but with Sanemi the short description he gives is similar to one I would give about someone I'm familiar who has a major flaw that I can't ignore that makes it hard for me to connect with them.

How did Sanemi know where Giyuu's training grounds were? Even Tanjiro who has spent a considerable time with Giyuu still needed a map for directions. You might argue that Sanemi's crow probably told him where Giyuu's place is, but neither of their crows are present during the entire scene. So Sanemi has to have known where, which means he's probably been there before and has sparred with him in the past.

I've talked about how their fight was similar to a conversation than actual training, and the way that they're able to perfectly counter and dodge each other's moves tells me that this isn't their first time sparring. There's also Sanemi's demeanor during the fight, in his training with Obanai and Muichiro, he was serious but with Giyuu he's...smiling? He was enjoying himself, even his taunts to Giyuu had a playful edge to it. It's like he's happy to be sparring with an old friend.

Giyuu's lack of reaction when Sanemi suggests that they beat each other up. He doesn't seem threatened, it's like he knows that Sanemi isn't actually going to hurt him and based on Sanemi's annoyance at Tanjiro coming between them, there's a small chance that Sanemi might have been joking and Giyuu knew it. It wasn't as big of a deal as Tanjiro made it out to be.

In Conclusion, Sanemi and Giyuu probably have history, which is why the vibes between them feel like they're an old, married couple.

*Yes, I am crazy and yes, this is an ADHD, 4 hours of sleep, caffeine-induced breakdown. Their relationship is my current hyperfixation, and I'm going to make it everyone's problem 🙂. It's all Ufotable's fault.

[circlebuttons]

“No outside clothes on my bed” - Rafe Cameron

ExBf! Rafe Cameron x Gender-neutral! reader

Your ex shows up drunk at your door

warnings: mentions of relapse in sobriety, mentions of c0k3 use, mentions of drinking, explicit language

800 words - short fic

You were meant to stay far far away from your ex Rafe Cameron but when he's drunk at your door can you really turn him away?

You let him lean over you as you usher him towards your room, shushing him to hopefully keep your roommate asleep, and unknowing that you opened the door for your ex that you told her all about over a bottle of wine.

Once in your room you lay him down on the floor and take pillows off of your bed to keep him propped up on his side. You go to offer him a blanket, but his eyes are half closed as he begins to pout. It was endearing how he'd act all pouty and clingy while y'all were together, but just irritating now that he's your ex.

Somehow through that irritation your old feelings for Rafe were clawing at your insides. You harshly made him sleep away from you, but you still positioned yourself to where you could monitor him. You'd always worry about him dating or not.

You stare up at the ceiling, hoping to just try your best to get through the night as contradicting emotions pulse through your body and Rafe's presence making itself more than well known, even more so when he breaks the silence, "Can I sleep with you?" he asks, voice quiet and timid.

How could you possibly say no to him when he's in such a vulnerable state? Right? Instead you let that vulnerability fuel rejection, you can reason with yourself that he's not in his right mind, and that you need stay as far away from him as possible. "No outside clothes on my bed, you know that."

He doesn't respond right away and instead you hear him start to breathe unevenly with the occasional sniffle. You shoot up and look over at the ground, his back is facing towards you, "Rafe are you crying?" you whisper yell at him in shock.

"I'm so sorry. I'm drunk" he tries to whisper, holding back his tears, trying to hold onto any dignity he can be conscious of.

"I know" You sigh heavily and throw yourself back against your bed.

“And I'm in love with you” he mumbles quietly.

His words make you flinch, “Do not.”

“I miss you, I miss you so much, I'm miserable” his voice shakes and you shut your eyes to make his words hurt less.

“You broke up with me.” And you know why he did it too, the night he relapsed on coke he called you in a panic and confessed. You couldn’t even get a word in before he broke things off, assuming you were going to do it anyways. He was right to assume that you’d be upset about his relapse, but you didn’t know in what world he thought that you’d dump him at a low like that. You wanted to be there for him, you were going to be there for him, and he unknowingly pushed you away.

“I'm fucking stupid” he slurs out and begins to incoherently ramble.

“Get some sleep Rafe” you cut him off worried he’s about to choke on his tongue.

“I thought you’d hate me” he quietly whimpers, “That why I’m sober again” he breathes in a ragged breath before finishing his sentence “But I did drink tonight”

“I know you drank” You want to laugh at his obvious drunk confession, but instead make a confession of your own, “But I am proud of you for being clean again, always have been proud” Sarah and Rafe’s friends who grew close to you often updated you on how he was doing, so you already knew he had been strongly sober although going through the motions of grieving your relationship. His ego made him think sobriety would be linear, but you knew statistically he’d relapse and you were still genuinely proud of him.

“That’s all I wanted” his sad voice and new admission tugs at your heartstrings. All he wanted was just for someone to be proud of him, Rafe Cameron had been failed by everyone and was trying to pick up all the pieces by himself.

"Get in" You can see him sit up out of your peripheral vision, and he hesitates almost as if he thinks you’re joking. You lift up the comforter, making space for him and in almost an instant he’s up and clumsily stripping his clothes at an attempt to take off his outside clothes before jumping in your bed, hugging your waist with his head in your chest. His breathing slows down a lot more than before, but you can feel his tears soak into your top. They’re hot like his body, heated by the the alcohol in his system. You can feel him lift his head, but you just close your eyes, and rub circles into his back the way he loved “Well talk in the morning”

[ae-neon]

Nesta Vs ACOSF, a rambling rant

TW: mentions of sexual assault and abuse

Besides the "love" story that read like a quiet descent into domestic horror, ACOSF has one element that keeps me from being able to pick it up even just to sift through for Nesta gems: sex.

Here me out, I'm not a prude and I think we could have gotten a smutty romance but...

At her core, Nesta has always been a proud and modest person.

To be clear, with pride, I mean that her sense of self - her famous steel spine - has kept her together and unbroken even during harrowing circumstances. It's vital to her. It's so ingrained in her that - given we have no other explanation - we can assume it's what shields her mind from literal magic. However, like any trait, her pride can also be a thing that comes off as negative in the wrong situations.

With modesty, she was raised to keep a certain ideology that based her value on sex, beauty, marriage etc but it's important to understand that Nesta applied those standards inwards, at herself. (Eg In acotar, she brings up Feyre and Isaac in defence of her and Tomas, in acomaf, she is mostly upset about not hearing from Feyre or being notified that Feyre has switched courts - not about Feyre sleeping with Tamlin and then Rhys)

Now, I don't think Nesta's modesty makes her better than Feyre, in fact I was happy to get the representation of two different types of views on sex

But what I didn't consider at the time was that SJM was painting this out to be a negative trait.

In retrospect it seems obvious even though Nesta has defied her narrative destiny and become a sort of icon, at the end of the day she was still supposed to be written in a negative contrast to Feyre.

It seems funny but imagine you consumed the book the way Sarah intended, the way so many in the fandom have. The old Sarah Says rule, for my long time mutuals.

For example:

The dinner in acomaf - it's obvious Nesta is upset that she hasn't heard from Feyre only to have her come through not only as a whole Fae but bringing others and endangering their entire family.

But imagine it as a one dimensional reading and suddenly the "I fuck" dialogue is a girlboss moment of feminism giving a fuck you to the strict patriarchy of the "mortal lands" let's ignore how the Fae are actually more patriarchal and the Illyrians even more so than that

So understand that Nesta's modesty is being directly contrasted with Feyre's sexual freedom. The reader - at least from sjm's perspective - is supposed to agree with Feyre and disagree with Nesta in a sort of win/lose, yes/no, black/white dichotomy.

And because sjm is consistent and boring and a self-inset author, this dynamic doesn't change even when the protagonist does.

Only now sjm and her feminism has changed from fuck-whoever-I-want girlboss to kinky-but-only-with-my-husband tradwife

So Nesta can't be prudish and cut off because 1) it's not as conducive to the breakdown of self and buildup of a dependent and abusive relationship and 2) it's not in direct contrast with Feyre's current monogamous, traditional family values character.

So Nesta starts drinking and sleeping around and it's not because we're going to explore the unraveling of the pride and modesty at the core of the character as part of her transformation or as a result of her trauma

But because it's supposed to be a bad look, degrading, it shows she's failed, it makes her a loser

All of that is already insane. And even more so when taken with the context of her assault by Tomas and the sex centred relationship she has with Cassian

Now add to that the fact that in the book, Nesta is an object of desire for 2 villains and undergoes assault and drowning AGAIN

Sjm literally gives less than 2 fucks about SA, that much is obvious even from the way she inflicts and then disregards the experience of both Feyre and Rhysand respectively. It's a tool for her, a quirky story element

But to have Nesta experience such a similar thing - especially when the experience of being Made can be read as a sort of rape allegory on its own - and all for the sake of "romance" fantasy??

Even Nesta's reading habits are sexualised, to be clear I don't think there's anything wrong with reading smut, but the scope of her intellect and reading is narrowed down when we're suddenly made to believe most of the books she reads are smut.

This is someone who likely taught herself economics and investment within months in order to not just pay off the debt, upgrade her whole family's way of life but also rebuild the family fortune. Someone who, having stopped schooling at around 14/15, did the math needed to calculate the feasibility of the evacuation of a small country.

Someone who's verbally stated life goal was to see what a woman could make of herself in the world.

Even her love of reading is used as a stepping stone for how horny she is, instead of it being a result of her deeply ingrained need for escapism

She reads smut because the only thing she has in common with Cassian and the IC is sex. Because sjm thought one of the core elements of a friendship between 2 SA survivors and a disabled woman from a culture that mutilated her for being born a woman would be their desire to fantasise about men.

All the while the male love interest treats her like garbage.

We could have had a smutty book filled with sex where each scene could have been the growth of Nesta's trust and love of Cassian through intimacy. It could have been a sexual relationship that involved and explored kink - which explored vulnerability and the negative impact of how Nesta's pride became a source of stress and strain.

It could have been an exploration about the complicated relationship with desire and oppressors that many survivors have. But it isn't.

It's hahaha horny, so RELATABLE

Even when it comes to the abusive situation Nesta grew up in, it's just hung up like decoration on the character. Not explored, let alone healed. I don't wanna hear that sjm explained or explored Nesta's abuse when we don't even get her mother or her grandmother's names

We don't get

The complexity of being a trapped and abused woman who came from a trapped and abused woman who came from a trapped and abused woman

Or the complexity of a dysfunctional family

Or even the journey of recovery from addiction and self-harming behaviour

Now, not every aspect of Nesta or any survivors lives have to boil down to how it relates to their experiences but SJM is praised for her "recovery" and so much of this book is about sex and abuse but has no depth

It could have been a less-deep, fun experience of sex and desire and kink. But no

Nesta has sex with many faceless men because sjm is condemning her as a failure. Sex is her punishment, it makes her dirty and unworthy and cheap.

Then, through her "healing", she becomes a sex doll for the right guy. Sex is her reward, it makes her hot and useful and appealing.

Sjm writes not just like a man but like a particularly talented misogynist so it's the way sex is used that really puts me off

Edit: ultimately I think the sex and romance should have interacted with and evolved her pride, modesty and past experiences, rather than those things being demolished to turn her into a sex doll

[ricksanchezbignaturals]

i rewatched s7e3 and the weird sort of straight washing that happened with unity was worse than i realized in my first 1 and a half viewings. so im here to be a little bit more of a hater lol.

okay so like fuck this bitch in particular

now, i understand that unity has appeared in the comics which i haven't read so it's possible there's some lore there that idk about, but here's the deal as i understand it and why this specific alien acting like the face of unity bugs me so much. this alien is part of a species that, as of the episode in season 2, was very recently assimilated by unity. so like im not sure why there's so much focus placed on her specifically. having her act as a representative of sorts made sense in the first episode, she was a president on the newly assimilated planet that rick and the kids were visiting. but like, that's it, right? it doesn't make sense to me why she would be any more important than any of the other, what? trillions of life forms unity has under its belt? like the only reason for her to be here at all is to be recognizable to the audience, which like, fine. i think it's a little dumb, but whatever. the problem isn't having her as a symbol (personally i think it'd be cooler to not have an entity like unity tied down to being primarily represented through one body but i digress), the problem is that she's treated like more than that in this episode.

this is a part i didn't notice until my rewatch that really irked me.

these are concurrent shots from the scene when rick shows up and starts spraying unity. we see it in virginia telling rick to take it easy through the body of this human, then we see it continuing the conversation from its spaceship in the body of the alien. i am like super not a fan of the implications of that. this alien is not supposed to be unity any more than any one of my cells is me, but here it's depicted as though whenever unity does something in any of its bodies, it's coming from this lady. and like, that'd be super lame even if it wasn't an obvious womanification of a nongendered entity.

now im no english major so i don't have an elegant transition to put here, but yes, it is time to talk about pronouns. yeah yeah, ik, trans person gets hung up on pronouns, bite me okay, it's relevant. i went back and watched the first unity episode to be sure id remembered correctly, and yes, in that episode nobody uses gendered pronouns for unity. morty says "they" which seems more to be referring to a number of bodies, and other than that, people mostly say "unity" or "it". as for the new episode i noticed rick using nongendered pronouns twice

but after that he goes with she/her for the rest of the episode

and yeah, i think that is pretty disappointing. i didn't catch that "it" until my rewatch, but the use of "them" did make me really happy but then everybody started she/hering it. the combination of all that emphasis being put on a female body and people calling unity she so much makes for an episode that manages to be significantly less queer than the one that came out in 2015. it feels weirdly cowardly after that "we're all a little gay" bit in the last episode and doesn't inspire much confidence in me regarding rick's relationships with nonwomen. like stuff can be gay if it's for a joke, but there's more money on the line now than back in season 2, so rick's ex lover needed straightening up.

idk. i still like the episode because im easy and focusing on rick's mental health and relationships always makes me happy, but man, i am certainly not happy with how they handled unity. they really did it dirty, watered it down to being pretty much just another alien lady.

(also to be clear, i am not trying to shit on the writers here. obviously idk exactly what went on, but im pretty comfortable placing the blame squarely on execs)

[butch-reidentified]

Yet another time someone has sent me a screenshot from this random woman spreading 100% baseless, very obviously made-up ('i wonder if") bs about me due to who knows what deep unfulfilled need of hers, though she's never had the spine to come for me directly in any capacity. I so do not understand why I'm coming up again now, given I've not been on tumblr much for months, but 🤷

I'm not going to tag her like I usually would bc I have less than zero desire to invite that toxicity into my life so directly atp (I've @ ed her in the past when she started doing this ages ago), but I am gonna say something ab both the accusations she makes/spreads and ab the behavior itself.

She's been spreading unhinged rumors about me being into men for literal years, including accusing me of fucking my brother, and apparently doesn't find it at all fucked up to be harassing a lesbian trafficking survivor with literally COMPLETELY baseless accusations of sex with m*n (which I have never remotely desired and as I've literally made memes about, would sooner die) just bc I didn't think her treatment of macroclit was entirely fair, as the person who had actually known macroclit for years irl before even being on radblr. I don't necessarily think I would do/say all the exact same things now that I did at that time, for deeply personal reasons I don't owe anybody an explanation of, but that doesn't justify any of the toxicity on her part.

I don't think it's acceptable or even non-lesbophobic to act like lesbians need to be a complete monolith when it comes to their experiences with bi women and views. Nothing I ever said claimed lesbians can be into men or anything of the sort, nor supported polilez, and outside of shit like that, I don't think we need to all have the exact same takes on every single issue down to the smallest nuances.

I also don't think it's acceptable or feminist to completely invent and spread rumors about other women like some wannabe Regina George, as if women don't face enough of that stereotype already. Especially if these rumors undeniably play on themes of your target's trauma history. Especially when you yourself certainly know you're completely inventing said rumors, that they're purely weird parasocial (& blatantly dishonest) speculation.

yes, macroclit is my ex, and we were friends after dating but never "fwb." we did not "meet up and have 3sums," we met up and watched movies and went clubbing, and we have not even slept together since like a couple of years before she realized she was into guys. yes i had a "poly" experimental phase in/around my college years - and I'll admit I didn't formally & vocally end said phase until long after it had materially ended - but this was with exclusively other women, as should be fucking obvious, and frankly was mostly in name only; I just never had any meaningful urge to seek out more partners, and tbqh have never had a very high sex drive. I don't fuck anyone but my wife atp & very much don't want to (nor did I want to feel like I had to air my entire sexual history on tumblr to thousands of ppl).

idk what need is being fulfilled by doing shit like this, i rly cannot fathom it & have never in my life engaged in this behavior toward any other woman. in all honesty, I thought it was just a fully fictional misogynistic stereotype that women do this at all, bc I've never known anyone who does. I've seen rumors spread ofc but usually airing ppls real dirt or exaggerating it, not just lying outright. wild.

all that said, if you want to go toe to toe regarding actual irl feminist action, lmk. otherwise, fix your own shit and drop your obsession w imagining me liking d*ck, it's super creepy and weird.

[sam-blackbird]

An analyse of Umbrella Academy s4's posters (beware of s3 spoilers, ofc)

Hi! Today, the official Umbrella Academy Instagram account published season 4 posters, and since I'm very excited about this, I'm gonna try to analyse the posters, or what I can tell about them.

It's going to be long so grab a snack if you want / can, put on a cool playlist, and let's dive down! I'm going to do it poster by poster, in the order it was posted, from the oldest post to the newest (so not in numeral order).

We can notice that the characters are cut in two, the Portal way.

Anyway. First of all: Viktor !

Ngl, I had a moment when I saw he had the masculine uniform.

But past my joyful moment, my mind went racing so fast I couldn't keep it down, I had to share my thoughts (even if there may be only one person reading me, but whatever).

First thing first, it's interesting that the first one isn't Luther but Viktor, who is, the main character of the show (or at least, that's how I see it). Or a least the most important one. (if the last scene is Viktor ending his reading of his new book, about his siblings, not only would it be a fucking good epanadiplosis but it would make me cry the hell out of me)

After all, the show open with him, following him. And nothing would happen if it wasn't for him. He's the one trying to get the family stick together, and (unwillingly) starting apocalypse (twice or thrice, shit happens).

Let's focus on the poster now. On the left, we have a clothing reminding us of the Umbrella Academy days, or rather the "how it was before the show", except they are adult, and Viktor is here shown post-transition (and not pre-, as he was in the first two seasons). What does that mean? Fuck if I know. That being said, I think it have its importance (if they wanted to put children instead, they would have, wouldn't they?). However, we can note that he is not wearing neither the boy shorts (nor girl's skirt, for obvious reasons), but some secretly third option, aka a grey pant (is it the sport pant?). He is standing out himself, as a trans man (not wearing a skirt, yet not wearing the boy uniform either, as if he wasn't fully in that category somehow? idk).

Viktor's posture is straight (lol), and I associate it with being calm, obedient (he listen to everything Reginald says (ex: take these pills), and since Reginald is perceived as a father figure, it makes sense that Viktor wants to obey him, maybe hoping he (Viktor) will be loved and recognized as valuable). And also with being like a puppet. Or a muppet. The point is: He's not free of his movement, he doesn't have free will.

His face doesn't look happy. Nor sad. Just... neutral. He's just... there.

On the right, we can't see his face, yet his posture seems way more relaxed! He's wearing casual clothes, more modern ones, adapted to the world without powers they're now seems to live at the end of season 3.

His looks reminds me of the one of Tyler Ronan from Tell Me Why, a game by the studio Don't Nod (I fucking love that game). Both characters are trans man.

(These are pictures of Tyler)

Anyway. Casual clothes. Blue, like the uniform. I won't analyse that, this post is already long enough.

Tbh, I haven't saw again the last episode of season 3, so I don't remember if it was the clothes they were wearing or new ones.

Also, Viktor is holding an umbrella in his right hand, probably a reference to the Umbrella days. Like, it's a part of him, he can't leave it behind, he physically have it with him (even if he doesn't have the power).

And the Umbrella is closed, unlike the ones from the previous seasons's posters.

Like, season 2's were opened (and full), and season 3's were opened and damaged (and they were hiding the protagonists' faces, showing implicitly the influence of the academy on them).

Next one, Luther !

We almost can see his face on the right!

But anyway, let's start by the left. Luther is walking, straight, in what could be either a military walk or a relaxed one (? don't quote me on this please, I can't explain). His posture screams "confidence" and "I'm number one, I'm a leader, follow me!". Or something like that, I'm no posture reader, just someone who watched way too much police and detective shows. He's wearing the Umbrella uniform (and it's so fucking weird to see it on a grown ass man!). His hair are cut short.

On the right, he's wearing a more casual look. There's something going one with his arm muscles, but I can't be bother to search what. His hair are longer than on the left. He is wearing gloves and an umbrella, and walking shoes. His umbrella is cutting his name (does it have some symbolism? Maybe.)

He's still wearing blue (like Viktor), even if it's a different kind of blue (and it kinda fit him).

Nothing more to add. (yes, I have my favorites, and despite liking Luther, I won't kill my eyesight anymore than necessary for details).

Next! Diego!

Let me preface this by saying that it's so fucking weird to see him in that uniform. On the left, he's walking like a good little soldier, following the leader.

On the right, he's the embodiment of a relax guy who can (and will) definitely yeet you out of the picture if needed. He's not wearing anything casual. It's more like a killer / soldier clothes, with his precious knifes.

DOES HE HAVE A MUSTACHE????

He's holding the Umbrella on the shoulder, as if he can't be bothered with it (and/ or he's gonna use it as a weapon).

Next! Not number 3, but the one who's linked to Diego! Lila!

Love that she's officially "Lila Hargreeves".

The left outfit is like the one she had in season 2 when she was with the Handler and stuff about her past was revealed (so interesting and meaningful choice of outfit). Her heels are thin, as if she wasn't stable (with her life situation and all).

Yet, on the right, her heels are thicker, more stable to move (she's more free to go).

Her clothes are modern and the flowers fit her really well, I might say. Her hair are put up, like the active badass woman she is. They're brown again, and not white/ blond anymore, it's more natural.

She overall looks like a business woman, with a casual chic.

She too, is holding an umbrella, which make her fully part of the family. She hold it casually.

Next, another girl: Allison.

Ngl, I'm no big fan of hers, so this will be short.

On the left, she's confidently wearing her UA (Umbrella Academy) uniform. Her hand move don't really feel natural (saying this as someone who sometimes draws human beings). Her hair are like the one from season 1.

On the right, she looks like a business woman and a mom. Her posture looks aslo determined, while relaxed. She have business to do, and no one will stop/ prevent her from doing so!

Girl power and all that.

(I'm trying, I really can't stand how her character was wrote during season 3)

Neeeeext! Let's go with one of my fav, Klaus!

I have to say, it is criminal that a) his hair are short on th right side (loved his long hair) and b) where's the skirt?! He slayed in it! Anyway.

On the left, his walking looks very mechanical, as if he was a machine, a robot (lol) (I won't do any joke about Grace). Yet, his posture his not natural (no one walks naturally torso in one way and legs in another, if that makes some sense).

His eyes are closed. Why are his eyes closed? Idk. Maybe he closing his eyes on what happened during the UA days. Maybe it’s symbolizing his absence of choice. His face is still, resigned, accepting his fate. Maybe to show he’s kinda dead inside?

Klaus had always been closed to death, more or less metaphorically speaking, as he can see ghosts (= dead people, or what remains of them).

His hair is all over the place, reminding the crazy days he had to get fucking blasted to avoid said ghosts.

Right side is colorful. He's beauty, he's grace, WHERE ARE HIS HAIR?! No but more seriously, cutting one's own hair symbolise change in many culture, and more specifically letting go of the past, embracing new beginnings, and/ or undergoing spiritual or personal transformations. I have no idea how to interpret that.

He seems to float, to ascend (plz don't kill him). He is bare foot (bare feet? idk) (fun fact: in the comics, he could only use his power when sober and with bare feet) (I won't go down the rabbit hole of barefoot symbolism and its link with death, I'm not mentally well enough to do that).

He his wearing a yellow coat with flowers (flowers, like Lila!). Yellow is associated with joy, fest, sun (and Klaus is a comic relief, a feel good sunshine character), and flower, life. (again, plz don't kill him)

What reinforce that idea of tragedy is that the umbrella he's wearing is the only one who isn't black: it's the umbrella he was holding during Reggie's funeral in s1. Plus, he's holding it with three fingers out. What's the meaning of three? Idk. Maybe it’s for Allison? Maybe it has a link with God (the Christian one)? Yk, Holy Trinity and all that. After all, doesn't Klaus met God (the little girl in the afterlife) regularly?

Does that look good or bad for Klaus? No idea.

Speaking about looking good, Ben is back, alive. I won' t go far enough to say "well", but he's alive.

On the left, he's standing straight, walking in a unnatural posture. Following only.

On the right, he is bend (idk why tho) forward (his hips are forward his shoulders, curbing like a closing bracket). His clothes are casual (and looking alike the one Viktor had been wearing during s3). His umbrella also cut his name (like Luther's). He's a Vans' boy!

(please, no mustache for him)

We can't see if he's wearing glasses or not.

Last of the Hargreeves kids (if you count Lila as one, and if not, last one of the power-gifted Hargreeves): Five.

On the left, his posture is haughty. His hands are in his pants pockets. He know what he wants, he is very sure of himself, maybe because he thinks he is better than everyone (he can think that, given what happened) (some might even say he have a bratty attitude, but I'll answer, well have you seen him during season 1???)

(my personal theory is that he is bend forward to be smaller on the left than on the right, because he appears to be)

On the right, he left the UA uniform for a more formal suit (some call it 'the grandpa / old man suit'). His hair are longer.

He's walking down like he had no shit to give anymore (he doesn't) and he's ready to throw hands (he totally his).

HOLY (S)HIT HE'S HOLDING THE UMBRELLA IN HIS RIGHT HAND! Why? Why is he te only one wearing the umbrella on the other hand? Is it to accentuate his difference with his siblings (+ Lila)? Is it to show how differently he see his time at the UA an how differenlty he uses his powers? I mean, given he didn't spend as much time in the UA as the rest of them, ofc his vision and perception of the UA is different. Even his vision of time is different.

Or he’s just left-handed.

And now, BEWARE! THE REGINALD JUMPSCARE! (or is it scare jump? Anyway, I've been working on this post for more than an hour and a half, plz be indulgent, it's late and the day had been long)

On the left, we see the whole umbrella for the firs time on these posters. Said umbrella is closed but not entirely (it could be open anytime).

Reggie is wearing a lilac/ purple suit, which is a color hard to dye (so it costed a lot and was reserved for royalty / rich ppl before industrialization and the use of chemical products for clothes dye; and we know Reggie arrived/ was on Earth on 19th c., so during the industrialization). He is “young” looking (like he was in the 60s), and seems well assorted (who tf have two jacket pockets on the same side tho?)

On the right, he's old and wearing a brown suit. Brown can symbolize the Earth, which can provide: ppl are depend on it to eat and therefore survive. In a way, he was a Earth for his children, as they were dependent on him (does that makes him a good father? Absolutely not!). (that thought, of Reggie being a Earth, is funny given he is an alien / an extraterrestrial being)

And if you put them all in order, you get :

(notice how Klaus's picture / posture melt greatly in Five's?)

And that's it! Damn, that was long. Don't hesitate to let me know what you think about all of that in the comment!

[heliswife]

jake x a reader who hates him and avoids him because he reminds them of someone they hate but when they are forced to hang out they realize that they actually have a lot of chemistry…..,,. take ur time btw no rush

TBIS IS A FIRE IDEA ACTUALLY!!! TY POOKIE!!! those following for pjsk fics sorry but the brainrot is taking over <3 plus writing for other fandoms is a nice break from pjsk :3 this is a non-idol au thing ig 🤭

@onthat611beat hope you like it ♡

Your ex-friend used to have a massive crush on Jake. She would rant about him all the time, saying stuff such as "we were meant to be!" or "he looked at me, he wants me bad!"

You were sick of it, and by the time you cut contact with her, you didn't want to hear anything about Jake again. You avoided him in the halls and in your classes, memories of that friend coming back whenever you looked at him.

"Y/N! There's this guy I'm sort of interested in, and he wants to have a study group with us and some of his friends!" Your best friend and roommate grinned.

"Who is it?" You asked her, secretly praying it wasn't going to be a repeat of what happened with your ex-friend.

"His name is Riki, look!" Your friend showed you a picture of the guy she liked. He didn't seem bad. And your friend seemed normal enough about him.

"Yeah, he's cute. Sure, I'll go to the study group with you."

The next day, when you walked in the café you guys decided to meet up in, you saw Riki, your bestie, and...

"Y/n, this is Jaeyun. He's in the grade above you, right?"

"Mhm, nice to meet you, y/n. You can call me Jake." He flashed a warm smile at you. It made your stomach churn with how nice he was to you.

Memories of your ex-friend and her toxicity flooded your brain, yet you pulled yourself together and held your hand out. "Nice to meet you, Jake!"

His hand was warm. You were sort of understanding why your ex-friend liked Jake now.

The study group went surprisingly smoothly, with you exchanging numbers with the two boys and leaving with a stomach full of sweets.

You explained to your bestie the situation between you and your ex-friend, how she was in love with Jake and how she was a huge asshole towards you.

"Is that why you looked shocked when you saw him?" She asked.

You nodded. "Was it that obvious? God, I really hope I didn't give him a bad impression of me..."

"Don't worry, y/n, it wasn't that obvious." Your friend said before being interrupted by the ding of your phone. An unknown number.

hey y/n this is jake from the study group i just remembered i had your number lol

"It's Jake. Whenever I think of him, I think of my ex-friend and then I start feeling sick. Should I answer?" Your finger hovered above the message icon.

"Yes, duh? Forget about that shitty girl, that's in the past. It's time to move on and forget about her, y/n."

"Hm.. You're right. I'll respond. I know it's been half a year, but it's hard to get over it." Your fingers rapidly typed and backspace until you found a response you would send to him.

hi jake!! dw abt it, im glad you texted me

"I literally can't do this bestie, what if he hates me? Fuck, that message sounded so cringy." The worst case scenarios flashed in your eyes.

"He doesn't. Read the message he just sent, I don't think anyone who hates you would send that."

do you wanna go get lunch with me tomorrow? i wanna talk to you more, you seem chill 😄 also your friend likes riki right? she makes it obvious

"I DO?" Your best friend gasped. When you agreed, your friend threw her head back, landing on one of the soft pillows of your bed. "It's fine, I'll deal with it later. Back to you, y/n~"

"Oh lord."

"You should go with Jake! He's asking you out on a date!"

"He is?" You reread the message. "Oh shit, he is."

"Y/n l/n, you are a total loser. Your life is so boring, like, you've never been in a relationship? You should go. It'll make your life interesting."

"Geez, you're such a nice friend." You rolled your eyes.

yeah ofc!! where & when?

is noon at the pizza place near the cafe alright with you?

mhm, see u there :)

You turned your phone off and let your brain process what was happening.

The only knowledge you've had of Jake prior to this was from your ex-friend, and she looked at him with rose-colored glasses. You were going on a date with the very person your ex-friend was head over heels for.

Fast-forward to the next day, you put on an outfit you deemed worthy for an outing and exited the house. You hoped your bestie wouldn't blow up the house.

Once you arrived at the pizza place, you spotted Jake waiting outside, scrolling on his phone.

"Jake!" You called, and his head perked up, smiling wide as he waved to you, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long!"

"Y/n! Don't worry about it, I just got here anyways, let's go in and order, 'kay?" It wasn't even a sort of anymore. You were definitely understanding why your ex-friend was obsessed with Jake.

Your eyes couldn't leave Jake as he ordered a pizza and drinks for you both, and you didn't even process the question he asked you until he pointed out your lack of response.

"Sorry, I just feel... I don't know, out of it? Could be nerves," You awkwardly laughed.

Jake only cocked his head his face painted with a confused expression before giving you a small grin. "I get it, nerves do that to me too. So, um, what do you like to do?"

"I- I like writing?"

"That's cool, do you think you could ever show me one of your stories?" When he noticed your eyes widening, he laughed, "I'm kidding, you don't have to show me if you don't want to."

The pizza came, and you two chatted about anything you could think of. You talked about your friends antics and he talked about his. He even showed you a picture of his cute dog.

"Y/n, if you don't want to answer this, it's fine, but why did you ignore me before you were forced to see me at the café. Did I do anything wrong?"

Shit. Now you were forced to talk about your past with your ex-friend. "I had a friend who used to like you. You were all she would talk about, and it was getting annoying. She was an asshole too. After we stopped being friends, I didn't want to be reminded of her, and you happened to be one of the things that reminded me of her. I feel bad about ignoring you, since you're a great guy."

"Oh, it was *****, yeah? I remember her." Hearing her name made you feel lightheaded. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that. If it makes you better, I never liked her much."

"Seriously?"

"Yup, you want to head back to my dorm? I could show you my lego collection?"

"Sure," You giggled, getting up out of your seat in the booth, Jake following suit. You felt a sense of relief knowing that Jake didn't like your ex-friend.

As you two were walking back, gray clouds started to gather. A few rain droplets fell on your face before the downpour began. You and Jake looked at each other before Jake took your hand and started running to his dorm, dragging you along.

Once you guys made it, you were both soaking wet and panting. "I wasn't expecting it to rain, sorry.."

"It's okay. I really enjoyed your company..."

Silence filled the room. Jake's hand was still holding yours. "Y/n... may I..?"

"Please, Jaeyun."

His lips pressed onto yours, and even if it was for a second, it felt like time stopped. It was just you and him in this little world.

"Tomorrow, I'll take you on a real date, when it isn't raining. We could go wherever, just tell me," Jake told you when the kiss ended.

"Let's hope it isn't raining tomorrow, promise we'll go wherever?"

"I pinky promise, dear." He held out his pinky, and you intertwined it with yours.

This was the start of a new chapter, a chapter without her, and you had someone, who although gave you bad memories from the previous chapter, would be by your side.

[oikharou]

WAIT FOR YOU

warnings: angst & comfort ?? + slight cursing

"it's very obvious that you two like each other so much, so why don't you say 'yes' to him already?"

his ears perk up at the question thrown to you by your friend. he didn't mean to eavesdrop, he was just passing by to hopefully see you after school hours. he was leaning on the wall beside the door to your clubroom and was listening every bit of it.

a minute passed and you were still silent, unable to find the right words to answer your fellow member's question. he has always told you that he will wait for you until you're ready to love again.

"i'm scared." you meekly replied as you fully stopped whatever you were doing. they were even more curious about your vague answer, especially him. "why?" they asked once more.

you let out a deep sigh. "i like him really, i really do. it's just that, if i love again, am i still going to be the one who'll chase them in the end if i show them how much of a vulnerable person i am? am i still going to be the one who'll beg the other person to stay if they ever try to leave? am i still going to be the heartbroken one in the end all because of my sensitive emotions?"

they were silent for a while but you continue to spoke. "my ex(es) left me because i show too much of my emotions. they got so sick of me being 'annoying' all because i'm showing them how i love and care for them."

"and when he showed up the time that i told myself 'i am never going to love anymore', i crumbled when i realized that i'm catching feelings for a person again. when he shows me how much he loves me, i push him away because i'm so scared and damn i feel bad that i'm doing that but i couldn't help myself. it's been so long since i built high walls to anyone who shows interest in me only for him to break it all down because i let my feelings get the best of me."

you hid your face behind your hands as you try so hard not to cry. "the heavens above did not hear my wishes to never love anymore but here i am, completely in love with him."

"he told me that he'll wait for me, which i completely doubt because i've heard that fucking phrase so many times now—"

"but isn't he the type of person to wait for you?"

your friend cut you off, making you look up to their eyes staring at yours. "i- no, we, always see how sincere and genuine he is to you. that smile on his face whenever he sees you, that frown on his face whenever you push him away but he doesn't budge and still reaches out for you, that actions he always makes whenever he's with you, it's all obvious y/n. he's the type of person to wait for you even if it takes an eternity to do so as long as he's with you." they exaggerate a little, but it's true.

him, on the other hand, agreed to what your friend said. 'until you're ready, he will always wait for you because you're worth the wait.'

>HQ!!: IWAIZUMI, AKAASHI, suna, kenma, TANAKA, KITA, SAKUSA, kuroo, SUGAWARA, OIKAWA, tsukishima, akagi, aran, OMIMI, YAMAGUCHI, TENDOU, BOKUTO

>GI (MODERN AU): DILUC, ZHONGLI, kaeya, childe, ITTO, albedo, DAINSLEIF, AETHER, ayato, THOMA

@oikharou — all rights reserved — no reposting, translating, plagiarizing and claiming any of my works as yours

[pruneunfair]

Characters I hate the most in remarried empress

5:Heinrey

A lot of people dislike him now for being a cruel bastard to the point of torturing foreign nobles just so he can favor his wife. While that is messed up I'll take that over his constant "UwU my queen~" persona that he displays 90% of the time because at least the former is the remnants of his inital personality. It goes from kind of funny to straight up cringey, I do not see what Navier likes so much about his puppy guise, he's so low because to be fair, he was introduced as a scumbag (kind of), he just spends so much time simping that it's basically tossed to the side

4:Lebetti

I know a lot of fans say Lebetti is young and can learn better, she's 17 sure but it took her entire family being executed just so she'd be inclined to care about Ian. She's basically a mini me of Lotteshu and when's she not doing that, she's another blind Navier worshipper who is used for as a stand in for the reader, I don't know how fans didn't realize their stand in is a slave owner but I digress. The only reason she's at number 4 is that while I do find messed up she gets to raise Rashtas child and likely feed a biased view of her to Ian, if she really wanted to be evil, she would've let Ian become a slave for his mother's crimes so I guess there's that.

3:Kaufman

Jesus christ this man is a walking, talking manifestation of second ML syndrome. He's essentially a plot device for no other purpose other than propping up Navier as so beautiful that multiple royal guys want her and so shit can go down , And of course the obvious slipping love potions in others for no other reason then "the plot calls for it", he doesn't even face the consequences. He's fucking creepy as well since he's STILL in love with Navier even after she's married and pregnant GET OVER IT MAN! In the end he just gets with Charlotte (Kosairs ex fiancé) so writting wise: his whole "nice guy" problems can be solved

2:Alan

I really just have a personal vendetta against the whole Rimwell family. The moment I lost all hope in remarried empress is when I was expected to sympathize with a rapist. The narrative wants readers to believe Alan was wronged even though he was the one to participate in keeping Ian away from Rashta until she got rich, even though it was HIM who decided to abandon Rashta after she wanted to run away with him. Yeah he's a good father so what? Wow! A dad actually raising his kid how amazing, it's almost like that's called the bare minimum. The moment he tried to say that Ian deserved to be treated like a prince because he was Rashtas son is when the comments finally saw him for what he was, he makes up for all this by getting executed in the end

1:Laura

Your probably wondering out of all these scumbags, why is a random side character on top? Well, the characters below at some point had personality traits that made then complex characters in the past or they did something to make up a little for it making them a tiny bit more tolerable. Laura however has never once shown any signs of any other personality other than "Your majesty! Your so wonderful and the best! That slave needs to know its place around you!" At least all Naviers other ladies in waiting have some sort of gimmick to them or in rare cases they have other stories going on with just them. Laura's gimmick is that she is willing to hit a slave for Navier even if said slave made a genuine mistake and isn't used to palace intrigue. Her face pisses me off everytime I look at it and everytime she speaks it's never anything besides love for the leads and hatred for anyone against Navier. she needs to get off her glazing and go back to bullying Cinderella with her evil stepsister design she's got.

Anyway let me know if there's any other manhwa/comic to rant about because I'm sure everyone's probably tired of me bitching about remarried empress

[growup-thatbeautiful]

bullet proof… i wish i was

Tags: Kid fic, Canon Typical Violence, Ex-husband Tangerine, Ex-Assassin Reader, Getting Back Together, Soft Tangerine, Mutual Pining, Tangerine Bullet Train, Tangerine x Reader, Tangerine x You

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death, Blood, Violence, Heavy Cursing

Summary: You and Tangerine have been separated for a few years for the sake of your daughter, Jovie, but when trouble comes, there's only one person to turn to.

Word Count: 8k

A/n: if you want to be added to a taglist for this universe, let me know and i will happily oblige! enjoy my tangerine brainrot :))

Bullet Train Masterlist

chapter one: you have turned me into this

Your heels tap against the marble flooring as you make your way through the crowd of guilty people, the chandelier above you casting an ethereal glow over scared faces and expensive clothing. You keep your head down and hope that none of them are looking at your face too closely. The steel countertop of the bar is cool underneath the tips of your fingers when you order a drink and take a careful sip, your eyes flitting around the room for a certain face. Once you have him in your sights, it doesn't take much to convince him to come over and say hello. The way the silk of your dress contours perfectly around your figure can't hurt.

"Hi," you say, your voice floating through clouds and shaking the walls. Or is it just you who's shaking? The man doesn't answer and instead chooses to signal for the bartender, who nods and starts fixing a drink.

"The usual," the man croaks, his voice weak and failing. It makes you want to go home to the family waiting for you, into the arms of someone who loves you. There's a reason that you can't, but you don't remember it. You just know what you have to do now.

“So, angelface, are you going to tell me how you got here? I think I would remember inviting someone like you.” The man doesn’t recognize you, which is good. None of this would work if he knew who you are and what you’re here for.

“I have an invitation,” you lie, glancing around you and shifting your weight. If he’s paying as much attention to your form as he seems to be then he’s going to notice immediately how obvious you’re being.

“Strange, I didn’t take you for a liar.” He runs a greasy hand along the top of your arm and leans in closer to you, a sick smile on his face.

“I didn’t think you were smart enough to notice. Color me impressed, Sir.” You plant a hand on your hip and twirl a finger through your hair, grinning at him like you’re remotely interested in his sad eyes.

“Thanks. Look, hun. You’re way out of your zone here. This isn’t the path for a pretty girl like you.” He brings his hand up to your face, stroking a sweaty hand over your cheek. Like that’s ever calmed you down.

“Oh, sure it is.” you grab his wrist. “There are plenty of pretty girls getting up to no good. And those are only the ones that I know about and the ones you decide are good enough for a second fuck. But there’s a little more to the story this time. See, I’ve always loved my job, but it doesn’t really allow any room for what I need. I guess you could call it an occupational hazard, but I’ve been trying to change that if you would let me. I have a feeling that you’re going to listen to me.” You can feel the bones under his wrist. The way their ancient architecture creaks and groans under strain.

The beautiful snap of his wrist. Pain lit up in his eyes. Surprise written on his face. “Now. You’re never going to underestimate an angry woman or a protective mother again. I recommend you start listening to me closely and looking into my eyes instead of somewhere else.”

You wake up with a sob. Those memories have haunted you since the moment they happened, an error in judgment, an eclipse against the rest of your life. The things you did to protect the little girl sleeping soundly in the room next to you.

It’s half of a memory, not even getting to the worst part of that evening. Or the nights you spent afterward, cradling yourself against the cold spray of the shower and insistently scraping your skin against a washcloth to get the blood off.

It isn’t the violence that haunts you. God knows you’ve seen enough of that to last a lifetime. No, you don’t bat an eye at the blood that was shed that night, that’s never bothered you.

It’s what came afterward. The fighting, the leaving, the tears that you don’t usually shed. You had put your daughter, Jovie, in the backseat and taken her away from one of the two people who loved her to the end of the earth. It’s not like you had a choice, or at least that’s the easier way to think about it. For Jovie’s sake, you had to get out of that life, and you couldn’t have done that any other way.

But the way you hurt Tangerine back then still hurts you every time you think about it. It’s almost unbearable, to know that you’re the reason why he lives alone in a house that was meant to be filled with pictures of you and Jovie that now has impersonal empty white walls.

With a sigh, you throw the sweat-soaked sheets off to the side and walk into the bathroom that’s adjacent to your bedroom. Your hands shake when your turn the sink on you run your sweaty palms underneath the cool water, and you splash some onto your face. From experience, you know you probably won’t get back to sleep anytime soon tonight, so you might as well get some work done. Maybe with the extra time, you can pick up Jovie early from school one day and take her to the ice cream parlor she likes. There’s no better way to spend your time than with her anyway.

You slip some socks onto your feet and make your way across the hardwoods into your kitchen, where your laptop is waiting at the table. Instinctively, you go to the kettle sitting on the stove and start boiling some water, your mind on autopilot. Next, you grab a cup and some sugar, get some milk from the fridge, and try your hardest to calm your heartbeat. The whistling of the kettle is a soothing balm against your racing thoughts.

You don’t know how many times you’ve had the same dream, but usually, you make it further before you wake up. Maybe it’s finally starting to go away, but you doubt it. You’re honestly not sure that it’s something you’ll ever stop terrorizing yourself over.

The kettle’s whistling reaches an insistent point and you carefully pour the tea into the waiting cup. Once it’s cool enough to move, you settle into the kitchen table that’s closest to the window and open your laptop, where emails and research await.

Right when you’ve finally gotten into a good rhythm of your work, a noise from the hallway interrupts your thoughts. The hinges of your front door creak and strain, something you’ve been meaning to fix for a while, but right now you’re happy that you haven’t. Slowly, you reach for the gun that’s sitting behind the plant on the window and load it methodically, glancing over towards Jovie’s room and praying that she’s still asleep. The floorboards creak underneath the person’s feet and you steel yourself for what’s coming, whatever it is.

“Do you ever go anywhere besides your kitchen table, love? Should I be worried about your work addiction?” You see a familiar silhouette against the refrigerator light holding his hands up in the air.

Lowering the gun and putting it off to the side, you say, “Sure. Just let yourself right in. I’m sure Jovie would love to find you here in the middle of the night.”

“Jovie’s still awake?” Tangerine asks hopefully. You roll your eyes against his response, but there’s no actual malice in your actions. It’s endearing, how excited he gets to see her, even when you know he’s been on a mission for at least a week.

“No, she’s asleep, but you can go see her. If you wake her, you’re going to deal with it in the end, though, because she’s supposed to be going over to your house tomorrow anyway,” you warn. You don’t think it sends the right message, though, because he grins and raises his eyebrows at you.

“You still have to deal with her in the morning,” he grins, taking off down the hall. You know better than to try and stop him when he’s trying to go see Jovie, especially when he’s been gone.

He’s never told you, but you know that he misses her when he’s gone, but you imagine that it’s worse than how you miss her. When you’re gone, you know you’ll come back safely most of the time. Sure, what you’re doing for a living is technically illegal, but you’re not in immediate danger as frequently as he is.

So, when he comes over in the middle of the night asking to see Jovie, hardly able to stand with bloodshot eyes, you give him time with her for as long as he needs.

You remember how it used to be, when you were both working. It was hell, trying to balance everything; going on jobs and finding someone to watch Jovie, spending as much time as possible with her when you weren’t on a job, and trying to maintain some semblance of a relationship with Tangerine.

At some point, it all just collapsed in on itself. You had to get out of the job, and the only way to do that came with consequences that you’re still facing today.

You don’t think Tangerine can look at you without seeing the person that snuck away in the middle of the night with his daughter. And you can’t blame him one bit, even if he won’t say it to your face. You know if he did that to you, you wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye. Maybe he’s just a better liar than you or a better person. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell.

You can’t tell how long it’s been, sitting at your computer and waiting for Tangerine’s telltale footsteps, but eventually, he comes back and sits down next to you. Silently, without looking up from your laptop, you push your tea across the wooden surface towards him and he accepts it gratefully.

“You still make your tea like shit,” he complains, grimacing at the taste. “It’s like drinking fucking sugar water.”

“Then stop drinking it, Tan,” you sigh, but there’s a fondness that you can’t stop from creeping into your voice. “Just because you like being dark and broody doesn’t mean we all do. Some of us like being happy.”

“I can be perfectly fucking happy without your sugary excuse for caffeine,” Tangerine defends, leaning back into his chair. “Now do you want the information I got you, or not?”

You nod and pull up the folder you’ve been keeping information for your current job in. It’s scarily scarce, and this is one of the hardest assignments you’ve been given in a while. Gathering information on The White Death was hard enough when you could openly travel the world, and now with Jovie, it’s even harder.

Ever since you stopped going on actual jobs where you were part of the physical fight, you’ve been gathering information for the assassins like Tangerine and Lemon before jobs. It comes with perks, like the ability to work from home most of the time, but you can’t deny that you miss the excitement that you used to face almost daily.

For the next hour, Tangerine tells you everything he learned on the job and you carefully take notes. It’s a system you worked out as soon as you realized that the two of you would have to relearn how to coexist with each other for Jovie’s sake. In exchange, you give him everything you have on whatever his next job will entail, because, as scared as he is that he’s not going to come home one day, you’re terrified every time he leaves that he’s going to decide that it isn’t worth it. He’ll realize when he wakes up one morning that he could be anywhere in the world with anyone he wants, and you’re just not worth the effort.

Not that you would ever tell him that. Instead, you keep him through the flimsy excuse of work and information, hoping that, along with Jovie, it’s enough to keep him by your side.

Because you’re unexplainably selfish when it comes to him. Yes, you’re the one who left, but you can’t bear to think about him being happy with someone else.

So, for as long as he lets it continue, you’ll sit at the kitchen table for him in the middle of the night and listen to him talk, his accent lulling you to a sense of false domesticity that will shatter when he gets up to go home.

Tomorrow morning, Jovie will wake up and tell you all about how Tangerine visited her in the middle of the night, and he’ll be gone again, back to his own home where you thought you would raise Jovie with him.

But that’s something to worry about tomorrow. For now, you can sit here and take notes with an excuse to stare at Tangerine while he talks.

And what a sight he is, with his hair falling in front of his eyes, his blue-grey eyes shining in the lowlight of the moon shining through the window. His ringed fingers are drumming against the table as he talks, blood underneath his nails. Before he came in, he must have taken his suit jacket off, because he’s left in a blue pinstriped vest and a white undershirt, both speckled with blood. It outlines the broad expanse of his shoulders and the chain around his neck glints in and out of your sight.

“Do you want to spend the night?” you interrupt, shutting your laptop. Upon seeing the confused look on his face, you start rambling. “I know you probably want to get home- you’ve been gone a while- but it’s late and I’m sure Jovie would love to have you here in the morning. That way you don’t have to come get her later.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he agrees. “And I really don’t want to drive even more tonight, so I might take you up on the offer.”

“Okay,” you say, hiding a smile behind your hand. “You can shower in the guest room, I’ll get sheets on the bed.”

“Don’t go to the trouble, love. I’ll be happy with whatever.” You shake your head and get up, heading for the closet where you keep extra bedding. When you hand a pair of clean, white sheets with red polka dots, he takes them from you with a quiet, “Thanks.”

You lead him to the guest room, flipping light switches on and making sure the bathroom is adequately stocked. “I’ll be right back,” you say, heading to your room and rifling through one of your drawers until you come up with a maroon t-shirt that’s been in the back of your drawer for ages. It’s worn and faded, with holes in the collar and a white stain on the hem. You don’t know if Tangerine has even noticed that you’ve had it all this time, but you haven’t been able to convince yourself to give it back.

Back in the guest room, you hand him the t-shirt and he silently hands you his suit vest and collared shirt, which you take into the laundry room and spray with something to get the stains out. It’s a routine that you two perfected a long time ago, before things were so messed up, so it’s nice to see how some things still stay the same. The sound of the shower starting lets you know that he’ll be out in a few minutes, and a familiar sense of dread fills you. What happens now? Do you tell him goodnight and wait to deal with it in the morning or are you supposed to sit up with him and exchange polite conversation that will only hurt you in the end.

It ends up being neither. You’re sitting back at the kitchen table, pretending to look at your computer, when he shuffles down the hall, wearing boxers and the t-shirt.

“Is this mine?” he asks, gesturing at his shirt. “I’ve been fucking looking for this.” You know he hasn’t because he never liked this shirt, but your ears burn red at the accusation, however well meaning.

“It might be,” you deflect. “Do you need any food?” Tangerine moves to sit across from you at the table. His hair away from his face when he leans back and closes his eyes. He doesn’t look convinced at your defense, but he lets it slide with raised eyebrows.

“No, I stole some crisps on the way home.” You’re not surprised.

“You have a talent, Tan,” you tease lightly, shutting your computer. “You need to teach Jovie one of these days.”

“She can do better than petty thieving, have higher hopes for our girl.” Our girl rings through your mind. You doubt he even knows the impact of what he says, like he usually doesn’t.

You don’t really know what to say, so, “I’m sure she’s got your knack for finding something worthwhile to do,” is what you end up replying.

“A man can dream,” Tangerine sighs. You realize how late it is and how tired he must be, which you can see by the darkness underneath his eyes.

“As much as I would love sitting up with you, I think it might be a proper time to go to bed,” you admit softly. He looks at you with a strange look in his eye and nods slowly, matching your actions when you stand up.

“Goodnight, Tangerine.” You’re standing across from him, unable to cross the distance between the two of you, both physical and mental. It would be so easy, so instinctive, to fold yourself into his arms like you used to all those years ago. It’s alarming how deep the desire to do it runs through you, and you chalk it up to the nightmare that you and earlier.

“Goodnight, love. I’ll see you in the morning.” Those words, from him, are achingly distant to what they used to mean, but they fill the crack in your heart with a blooming flower of some unnamed emotion.

It stays with you when you crawl into bed and it has you looking forward to the morning, whatever it brings.

*

The sound of singing wakes you up much more gently than the nightmare did. It’s loud and boisterous and completely off-key, and you recognize it immediately, just like you would recognize anything about him.

You force yourself out of the warmth of your bed and throw on the first clothes that you find, a pair of black leggings and a deep green sweater with countless holes. A look in the mirror tells you that the bags under your eyes reflect the late hours of last night, but you don’t feel like doing anything about it right now. It can’t be worse than the other states of disarray Tangerine has seen you in before.

The bedroom door closes shut quietly behind you as you walk down the hall, and the sight that you’re met with is both concerning and heartwarming.

Standing at the stove in his now spotless suit from last night is Tangerine, his hair in its usual slick back style. Your kitchen is a mess, with flour all over the cabinets and countertops and a towel is thrown over his shoulder. He’s bent over the stove, watching a pan intently as smoke rises to the ceiling.

Jovie is sitting at the kitchen table watching, her brown curls a messy hall around her head. It’s the same as her father’s, something that he takes great pride in. She has your eyes, but hers are full of hope.

You make your way over to where Tangerine is standing and lean against the counter across from him, watching with amusement as he fiddles with your burner. “Bastard,” he mutters under his breath, trying again to light the stove. “Fucking bastard.”

“Let me help you,” you laugh, sidling up next to him and pushing the knob in before turning it. “It gets stuck sometimes, you just have to force it a tad.”

“S’that right? Well, someone’s going to have to fix that. I wouldn’t want the world deprived of your cooking,” he deadpans, a glint in his eye.

“Fuck off,” you say under your breath, glancing at Jovie to see her utterly occupied with the spoon and bowl. “I haven’t poisoned anyone yet with my cooking.”

“That was on purpose,” he defends easily. “And I don’t think they’re quite the brag you think it is, love. Jovie-“

“-come on, don’t bring the poor girl into this-“

“-how do you think your mom’s cooking is?” His grin is wide and dagger-sharp as he looks at Jovie, who’s staring wide-eyed and helpless at the wills of Tangerine’s smile.

“Mommy makes dinner all the time,” she says, looking at you.

“Thank you, baby,” you sing, smiling at her and sticking your tongue out at Tangerine. He frowns at your childish display and turns his attention to Jovie with soft eyes.

“I beg your pardon, Jovie, but why don’t you tell Mommy the truth?”

You sigh, having accepted your dare a long time ago as someone who’s talents lau outside of the kitchen. “Go ahead.”

“Sometimes your food tastes yucky,” Jovie says slowly, her head tilted to the side as she waits for your reaction.

“Well, I’m trying my best,” you defend, but you don’t take any of it personally. You’re happy, at least, that Jovie’s being honest with you, which is more than a lot of parents can say. This day was bound to come.

“I’m sure you are,” grins Tangerine, giving Jovie a cheesy thumbs up before returning to his cooking. “That’s why I’m going to handle breakfast this morning.”

And he does, without complaint, grinning and cracking jokes the whole time. It feels like he belongs here, sandwiched in your tiny kitchen with Jovie sitting at the table and laughing.

He brings two plates full of various breakfast items and a bowl for Jovie with grilled tomatoes, her favorite. You eat in comfortable silence, filled occasionally by Jovie’s chatter.

“Can I have that?” Tangerine asks, looking hopefully at you. He’s pointing towards your tomato, which you really had planned on eating, but you give in to his pleading eyes.

“So now you’re a gentleman?” you tease, shoveling your food onto his plate.

“Love, I’m always a gentleman.” He takes your food happily and shares with Jovie, talking with her about school and her friends while bringing you into the conversation.

It’s so easy to forget, in moments like these, why you ever left, but things can come crashing down when Tangerine has to leave.

“We should be off,” he admits softly. “I wouldn’t want to take up more of your time.”

“Okay,” you agree, but your smile feels wrong and tight. You want so badly to tell him that you’d rather be here than anywhere else as long as he’s here. “Jovie, baby, are you ready to go to Daddy’s house?”

“I need Murphy to come with me,” Jovie says, and you smile at her before going to her room to grab her favorite stuffed bear. It’s something that Tangerine got her on one of his trips, this time to New York. The stuffed bear is wearing a red guard’s uniform and a top hat, affectionately missing one shoe with faded colors. It’s laying on her bed, shoved beneath her pillows and blankets, and you double check the rest of her room to make sure that there’s nothing else she’ll need.

“Here’s Murphy.” You hand her the bear and Jovie accepts it happily with a hug and a pat on the head. She gives you a hug and a messy kiss on the cheek before going over to stand with Tangerine.

“Jovie-love,” Tangerine says, calling your daughter by his favorite endearment, “Say another goodbye to your mom, you’ll see her again in a few days.” Jovie nods obediently and looks at you again.

“Bye-bye, Mommy.”

“Bye, Jovie. I’ll see you soon, Tan.” Tangerine nods his goodbye to you before taking Jovie’s hand in his own and leading her down the hall and out the front door. You see them out the window as Tangerine buckles Jovie’s seatbelt and taps her on the nose with a soft smile.

You watch his car drive away until you can’t see it anymore.

Days without Jovie go by uneventfully, with not much distinction between the hours, and the next few are no exception.

But now, you have more than Jovie to look forward to. You have Tangerine too, however short your interaction may be. Because he’s always been a bright spot for you, even when you don’t get to bask in his sunlight every day. You’ll take whatever you can get, however small, because anything is more than you deserve.

Especially because you’re the one who ruined all of it in the first place.

*

After a long day of interviews and field work, you just want to go home. Jovie’s with her babysitter Mary because Tangerine had to take care of something with Lemon, which is an unfortunately common occurrence.

The drive home is painful and irritating, and it seems like everything is trying to push you over the edge. You have to keep reminding yourself that Jovie is waiting for you at home; sweet, loving Jovie whose face lights up when she sees you walk into a room. She’s back at your flat now, from when Tangerine dropped her off earlier today, which is good, because you don’t know what you would do if she wasn’t there. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to have much of a conversation with him because everything had been rushed.

Finally, finally you make it to your flat, where you can’t seem to find a parking spot quick enough to satisfy your desire to be finished with today.

When you walk through the door, you’re met with a silence that puts you on edge. There’s no blaring kids television program or the sound of Jovie playing with her toys, or even the soft lull of Mary reading her to sleep.

“Jovie? Baby?” You walk faster through the apartment, paranoia taking over. When you turn the corner, a gasp lodges itself in your throat and your hand comes up to cover your mouth.

It’s a cinematic scene. Your big-eyed Jovie, standing, covered in blood. The homey glow of the broken lamps cast shadows across the mangled corpse in front of her. Jovie isn’t moving, simply standing there, red spreading across her truck pajama pants.

“Jovie, honey, come here.”

“You always say not to get my pajamas messy.”

“I know, love, but this is more important right now. It’s okay, I understand.” You hold out your arms, knees on the ground, soaking in the pool of blood. “Please, baby, just walk towards me and everything will be okay.” She dutifully takes a step, walking straight into the mass of blood.

“Shit, Jovie, stay there, I’m coming to get you.” The blood is warm against your feet as you pass through it. She looks at you with her big eyes and you feel the tears threatening to overflow. You don’t have time for this now; you can always cry about it later in the shower.

“You said a bad word. Daddy says bad words sometimes when he thinks I’m not there.” Despite wariness, Jovie climbs into the waiting arms, holding on. She leaves ripples in the growing mass of blood when she walks.

“Yeah, that sounds just like him. How about we go into the kitchen-“

“For juice pops?” interrupts Jovie, oblivious to the violence around her. You wish that you feel surprised at the continued glimpses of the fight. A broken plate on the floor, a red smear on the white cabinets, and a drawer pulled out of the island.

“For juice pops,” you confirm, opening the freezer for an, ironically, red popsicle. “What color do you want?”

“Blue,” she says decidedly. You grab one of the first ones you see and unwrap it with your teeth, handing it to her. She takes it happily and you push her up higher onto your hip.

“How about we call daddy? I think he can help us.” The thing is, you know how to deal with this on your own. You’ve talked about it with Tan more times than you can count, but this is so much harder than planning for it. “Can you go grab your backpack from the closet? Mommy’s going to go get her own bag and we’ll call him from the car.”

She mumbles okay as you put her down and she heads dutifully down the hall to her room. You would rather be close to her, but time is essential at the moment. The only thing running through your mind is getting Jovie somewhere safe, no matter how you do it.

You rush down the hall and grab the gray duffel bag from the corner of your closet. Quickly, you go through the contents and make sure that you have everything you might need. Yours and Jovie’s passports, some first aid materials, a few extra weapons, and a change of clothes are the main items that you have to make sure are in the bag.

Once you’ve double-checked everything, you throw the duffel onto the bed and grab the extra bullets that you keep in your top drawer, shoving them into your back pocket along with the small gun that you keep in the bathroom.

“Jovie, honey, are you ready to go?” you call, waiting for a reply. She yells a muffled response back at you, which you take as an okay. You don’t really have enough time to contemplate it anyway.

As fast as you can, you scoop up Jovie’s bag from her arms and grab one of her hands in yours. She’s clutching Murphy close to her chest, the bear squished tightly against her. The hallway seems to be clear when you check it for any threats, and, thankfully, Jovie stays silent until she’s safely buckled into her seat. Part of you hopes that she can tell how serious the situation is, how dire it is that you make it to somewhere safer.

The slam of the car door rings in your ears as you pull out of the carpark, as does the heavy sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Mommy? Is Mary dead?” asks Jovie, staring at you from the backseat with eyes just like yours. You grip the steering wheel tighter between your fingers and let out a slow exhale.

“Yeah, baby. Mary’s dead.” You don’t know what else to say, so you let silence fill the car. After you’re far enough away, you pull the car to the side of the road and turn the lights off. To anyone passing by, they won’t see you unless they’re looking.

“What are we doing here?” Jovie’s voice is high-pitched and scared, and you brace yourself for the feeling of tears pricking your eyes. When Jovie cries, usually you’re able to be the calm one, but you don’t know if you can be that person right now.

“We’re just resting for a minute.” The words are hard to get out and you lean forward against the steering wheel, taking a breath with your head in your hands.

“Because it’s dark out?” Any other time, you would happily answer all of Jovie’s questions and more, but you need to think right now. But you also don’t think that it’s a good idea to shift Jovie’s mind to anything that could lead to her thinking more about what happened.

“Jovie, honey, do you think you can let me call Daddy? We need to make sure that it’s okay for us to go over to his house.” Jovie nods and looks out the window quietly, tracing the passing houses with her finger.

You pull up your phone and select Tangerine’s name from the top of your contacts, but you don’t connect it to the car speaker. Jovie’s been through enough. While you wait, you pull back onto the road and start heading in the direction of Tangerine’s house.

It feels like the dial tone rings forever while you wait for him to answer. It goes to voicemail and you bang your hand against the steering wheel, biting back a curse and some tears. The beep for a voicemail sounds and you start talking before you can consider anything else. “Tan, we’re heading to your flat now. There’s-there’s a problem. I have Jovie with me now, just- please be home. Please fucking be home, I don’t know what to do. I’m scared, Tangerine, and I don’t know how Jovie’s going to cope with this. I came home and there was blood on the floor, and Mary was on the floor. I don’t think we can go back there for a while, maybe ever. I have some things with me, and I have my gun, but I- I don’t think it’s safe still. Just, please answer me whenever you get this. Please, Tan.” You end the call and throw your phone to the side, running a hand through your hair.

When you look back at Jovie through the rear view mirror, she’s fast asleep, her head tucked against the top of her car seat. Your heart melts at the state of her. The curls on her head are rowdy and unruly, and you realize now that she’s still in her pajamas. The blue truck patterned pants are stained at the ankles with deep blood, and you have to fight not to pull over again and clean her up.

From its spot in the passenger seat, your phone rings loudly, and you reach across for it with one hand on the steering wheel. “Hello?”

“Love, are you almost here? I fucking swear, I’m about to drive to you myself. How is Jovie doing?” The tension and the anger in his voice somehow make yours melt away a little. It feels like you can breathe, knowing that he’s there waiting for you.

“I’m five minutes away. And Jovie’s asleep right now.”

“Fuck,” he swears. “Mary’s dead?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what we’re going to do about that. She doesn’t have any family, and as far as I know Jovie was the only one she sat for, so that’s ideal I guess.” It’s easier like this, to remember how you’re supposed to respond in situations like this. He’s always made things so much easier for you; your focus pinpoints on Jovie’s safety with the help from his voice.

“I’ll get someone to go over there and clean up. I’ll have things ready for you and Jovie when you get here.”

“Okay,” you agree quietly. “We’re pulling into your neighborhood now.” Like clockwork, Jovie's head snaps up when you pull into Tangerine’s driveway. You’ve never made it to his house without her waking up at the very last moment. It’s endearing on good days and frustrating on the rest, but now you’re just happy that she’s still with her normal routine.

The car rolls to a stop in front of the house and you park the car before stepping out and unbuckling Jovie. Both of the bags are carried in your arms, along with Jovie’s little hand in your own. You stop on the edge of the driveway, looking at Tangerine. You honestly don’t know what to do now that you’re standing in front of him, yearning for the safety of his arms but not knowing if you’re allowed.

“Come here,” Tangerine says. You don’t move. There’s an edge to his voice that you haven’t heard before. Something consequential. Something desperate. “Please.” He says it so quietly and with such little conviction. Like he knows you’ll say no.

Jovie goes first. And you have no choice but to follow her little footsteps until your in his arms. Once you’re there, you can’t remember why you ever wanted to be anywhere else. Slowly, like he’s going to let go at any moment, you wrap your arm around him and clutch the back of his suit in your hand, pulling yourself into him.

He’s so warm and solid against you, his suit jacket soft and welcome against your cheek. It makes you think of how things used to be, when you could come home together to this very house and let yourself bask in his presence.

Those days are gone, but the ghost of them remains in this depraved picture of a family hug: Josie’s blood splattered feet, your shaking hands and blood-dyed shirt, Tangerine’s immaculate suit and slick back hair.

Eventually, you have to let go and walk inside, dropping your bags off at the front door and crowding Jovie into the living room. Tangerine tells you that you should go wash up, and dimly, you agree, walking absentmindedly to the bathroom and stripping down.

It’s not until the warm spray of the water is hitting you that you realize you’re in his bathroom, the one that you used to share when Jovie was a baby.

Instinct had taken over and sent you right back to the past, when you were Tangerine's wife and Jovie’s mother at the same time. Strange, how different things are now.

Now, you’re washing blood off, which isn’t necessarily new, but you’re alone and thinking about the similar blood that covers your beautiful Jovie.

*

You’re wearing his shirt when you walk out. It used to be your favorite one, worn thin and soft from use, light blue fabric falling to your thighs. You always forget just how tall he is until you’re forced, in moments like this, to remember.

“Jovie’s asleep. I didn’t put her in her room because of the windows, so she’s in the room next door on the couch. Lemon’s on his way over,” Tangerine explains softly, coming over to hand you a towel for your hair, an old habit that neither of you even acknowledges.

“Thanks,” you reply just as quietly like somehow you’ll wake Jovie up from here. “Is she okay? Did you wash her feet off?” It almost seems trivial, to be asking if your daughter didn't go to sleep with blood-covered feet, but it matters to you.

“Yeah, love, I did. Are- are you okay?”

You let out a laugh that sounds too much like a sob and sit on the corner of the bed. “I came home to find our daughter surrounded by blood, which we have a plan for, a plan that I didn’t follow.”

“You made a judgment call. There’s nothing wrong with that, we have to do it all the time,” he comforts. Before you can reply with more negativity, he comes over and puts his hands on your shoulders, cupping your neck. Carefully, he tilts your head up to look him in the eyes. He’s towering over your sitting figure, but it’s far from intimidating. For a moment, you let yourself get lost in his presence, in his comfort.

He’s always been a source of comfort for you, even when you’re not with him. He’s a safety net to fall into during times like these, and you’re falling hard.

“I think it’s my fault,” you whisper, shutting your eyes. “I should have been there sooner. She’s going to have nightmares now. Tan, what if I’ve fucked her up? This is why I stopped, and now it doesn’t matter, she’s going to have these memories of blood and pain and I wasn’t there to stop it.”

He waits patiently for you to finish before shaking his head against your thoughts. “We knew something like this could happen. It’s as much my fault as it is yours, if it’s your fault at all, You’ve tried your best to protect her from this as long as she’s been alive.”

“I could have done more.”

“So could I, but we didn’t. However,” he continues, “Jovie’s okay. She’s safe now. You know that, right? M’not going to let anything happen to the two of you.”

“Thanks, Tan,” you whisper. There are so many more things you want to say, so much more negativity flying through your head, but it’s easier to let him take a little bit of the burden, like you know he wants to.

“Of course, love. We’ll figure this out together.” Slowly, he kneels down on the floor in front of you so you’re at the same height, bringing your heads together. You close your eyes and get lost in the feel of his hands against you, his breath against your own, his presence all around you. A part of you in the back of your mind reminds you that this could be your normal.

You pull apart and Tangerine wipes the tear from your eye with his thumb, so gentle. “Who did this to you?” There’s an edge to Tangerine’s voice that you’ve never wanted to hear aimed at you. But you don’t think it’s you that he’s mad at.

“It could have been a lot of people,” you start.

“You fucking know who it was. Tell me.” He’s losing patience now, wanting to help in the way he knows how. There’s no way for him to know the way that he’s already helping by being with you. His presence is a comfort, a safety that you can’t get if he’s out there looking for someone.

“Probably White Death’s guys,” you admit, thinking back. You’ve been careful, but there are always people who will talk. “They’ll do whatever to keep their names out of people’s mouths.”

“Fucking hell,” he swears, his hands on his hips. The dying light from the hallway casts shadows against his silhouette, the shiny silver signet ring on his pinky and the warm metal against his chest glinting along the hardwoods. “Why would they leave Jovie alive?” It’s a stupid question, one that both of you already know the answer to anyway, but you know why he’s asking. Sometimes it’s easier for other people to say the hard things. It’s not like you’re upset about Jovie being alive, you’re so utterly grateful, but it can’t be for no reason.

“Because they know who Jovie is. They want to scare us because there planning for something worse, something we aren’t expecting.”

“Mommy? Daddy? I’m scared,” Jovie calls from the other room. “There are monsters underneath the bed.” It’s something she’s been scared of for as long as you can remember, but you can’t help the spike of fear that courses through you. You’re not alone though, because Tangerine looks at you with the same panic in his eyes.

“We’re coming, love,” he replies, and you follow him through the door. Jovie’s sitting up in the bed, surrounded by blankets that build up around her and holding her stuffed bear close to her chest.

“Do you know which monster it is this time?” you ask softly, crawling next to her. Dutifully, Tangerine checks under the bed carefully and gives an exaggerated thumbs up that makes Jovie’s giggle beside you.

“It’s Lenny,” she whispers into your ear, and you nod solemnly at her.

“That’s a serious monster problem. Do you think Daddy’s going to have to move out of his house?” For as long as she’s been scared of the monsters under her bed, you and Tangerine have tried to twist it into something better. That’s when you started asking her what the monsters’ names are and what she thinks they're doing under her bed. Usually, you’re able to get her to a point of calm and, on the rare occasion, to a point where she’s no longer afraid of a certain monster. So far, you and Tangerine have been able to convince her that the monsters Polly and Patrick are protecting her, but Lenny has been a challenge since the beginning.

“I will not be moving, ladies. I don’t think Lenny’s here tonight, Jovie-love. And if he is, tell him to piss off because I’m too tired to fight a monster.” For emphasis, he plops face first down on the bed and starts snoring loudly.

“Tan, language,” you chastise lightly, sending a half-hearted glare in his direction. It’s a fruitless task, which you learned a long time ago, but you won’t stop trying, more for your own sanity than for Jovie’s sake.

“Yeah, Daddy, language,” Jovie mimics, crossing her arms over her chest. You laugh and nudge Tangerine, who looks less than thrilled.

“Right, you two are a pair,” he groans into his hands, peeking through to wiggle his eyes at Jovie. “But I think it’s time for my ladies to go to sleep.”

“Thank you for saving me,” Jovie adds sweetly, snuggling further underneath the blanket. Your heart melts at the way she holds her teddy close to her chest. “Will you always come for me?”

“Jovie, baby, there could be dragons and mountains and oceans between us and we would still find a way to you, okay? Daddy and I will never stop looking for you if you’re away from us. Never. Do you understand?” You run a hand over her hair and tuck a stray strand behind her ear.

At that, Jovie opens her eyes and looks at you, blinking slowly.“But you and Daddy don’t love each other.”

“Oh, baby,” you sigh. You can’t look at Tangerine next to you, you can’t bear to see the look on his face. “I’ll always love your dad. I love that he’s the person I get to raise you with. I love that he’s there when I need him. We just…weren't able to love each other together. It’s like that sometimes.” You wish it weren’t, but that’s not a fight that you want to have again.

“Jovie-love, your mom and I have loved each other since before you were born, but it’s easier for us to love each other from separate places,” Tangerine adds, smoothing the side of Jovie’s face. His words ring a painful truth that you’ve known for years.

“But we’ll always come together to be with you, baby. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Promise?” she asks, holding up her pinky. You smile and take it in your own, and Tangerime dutifully does the same.

“Promise,” you echo, holding onto her hand. She nods her acceptance and you let go, as does Tangerine. “Now, it’s time for bed. We’ll be here in the morning, so you just come and wake us up, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy. You’re both going to be here?”

“Yeah, love. We’re having a little sleepover for tonight until your mom’s house is better. Does that sound fun?” Tangerine asks, tucking Jovie further into the blankets and glancing over at you.

“Yes,” Jovie agrees sleepily, snuggling further into her blankets. “Sounds fun.”

“Good,” you smile. “Goodnight, Jovie.” With that, you slowly make your way out of the room, Tangerine on your heels.

Once you’re out of the room and back into his bedroom, you sit down on his bed and he sits next to you, shoulders against each other. “You can sleep in here, I’ll sleep in the living room,” he offers.

You shake your head and respond, “No, I couldn’t do that. It’s your house, Tan.” And you don’t want to slip in the bed you used to share without him,

“It’s alright, love, really. I don’t use that couch enough.”

“I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch in your own house,” you argue back. “It’s rude.”

“Look, you’ve been through a lot today. I’m not going to make it worse by giving you a sore neck and back tomorrow. I know you well enough to know that it would happen, so don’t pull any shot with me,” he warns, and you don’t have a lot of defense against that.

“Fine, I’ll sleep in here, but I’m absolutely not going to have you sleep on the couch. We’re both adults here, we can share a fucking bed for one night.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “If that’s what it takes.”

There’s space in between you when you lay down, but he’s closer than he’s been in a long time.