#spousal death tw

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Idris Elba

full name: Marquis Owusu

nickname(s) / goes by: Marcus 

pronouns & gender: he/him/his and cis man 

sexuality: heterosexual 

birth date: November 24, 1973 ( 50 years old )

birth place: Saint-Germain-en-Laye, France

arrival to merrock: 2011, twelve years ago. 

housing: the coast and pier

occupation: Owner and CEO of Le Marquis Business Consultancy and Investments Inc  

work place: 

family: deceased mother and father, deceased wife of eight years, one older siblings and two younger siblings, three children: Charlotte “Lottie” Rose, daughter born October 2017 and twins Finn Dion and Sienna Alexandra born August 2018

relationship status: Widower / Single

PERSONALITY

He’s got a face that people often takes him to be incredibly serious, and when it comes to work, he plays no games. Marquis can often seem cold and aloof, aside from when he is with close friends and family. There, another side of him comes out, a more charming and caring side of him comes out. He knows his fault is shutting people out after so much loss in his life but he tries his best to not come across as harsh or standoffish but it’s something he knows that his personality comes with a fault and is something he continually is working on to just not be the ‘business man’ that he often exudes when in public. 

WRITTEN BY: Bri (she/her), est.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content: tw parental death, tw parental loss, tw death mention, tw spousal death, tw childbirth, tw death, tw infertility, tw early term pregnancy

Born to Omari Osuwu and Penelope Osuwu in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, France life with the Osuwu’s was relatively normal. Well, as normal of a life could be for a household of six. Being the second born child came with less challenges, at least that was his mother always alleged. When she welcomed Marquis into the family she was expecting him to be the rebel son, the hot-headed tempered child, much like her pregnancy had been. Hot and cold the entire time, but from the moment he popped into the world he was the levelheaded peaceful child of the bustling bunch. 

Despite the challenges that came with his father always working, his mother made the best home for them. They didn’t go without, his father providing for the family financially while being the disciplinary in the household. For the most part he ruled with an iron fist, but that was just due to the fact he liked order. It was never too much of a power trip, or nothing his mother couldn’t manage to smooth over if she felt he was being too particularly difficult with any of the children. Still, as most people saw it, he was a man attempting to raise a family of four children and keep a happy wife. Sometimes that meant having things more strict and set at times than others. Still, if you asked him, there was no doubt that his mother was the shining star of their Owusu family. She made sure they got to live their best childhoods possible. There were trips to Paris, day or weekend long excursions to neighboring countries, and endless activities that pepper his memory. One thing his mother was determined o do was raise well-rounded, worldly children. For this, from the moment they were just starting school, each child was enrolled by their mother into multiple language lessons. 

By the time Marquis was thirteen he was fluent in French, English, Spanish, and German. Given both his parents were well-versed in multiple languages themselves, his father always appreciated the love and care that his wife put in to making sure the kids would have the best opportunities for their future, starting with being fluent in other languages and enrolling them in a top accredited school for their primary and secondary education. In his father’s eyes this would give them the best advantage when going out into the world when they became adults.

To Marquis, by any other standard, the Owusu’s lived a normal life with his family. When he turned seventeen he started interning with his father at the bank he worked at, and it was the first lightbulb that went off in his head that things made sense. He caught onto patterns faster than his father, started to build client relationships, and before he knew it he had caught the eye of the local bank president who decided to make him a personal project and take him under his wing as a mentee. With a new mentor leading him distance grew between his father and him. After finishing secondary school, and with glowing recommendations from his mentor he entered a business school in Paris. Part of him wasn’t expecting to excel as well as he did but each time he turned around he was catching the eyes of several professors — and the women on the campus. 

During his university years he was know as a bit of a lady’s man, wining and dining them, but never was in the mindset to settle down. If anything it was just the little bit of fun he needed while building towards whatever future career he was planning for himself. To him, a relationship wasn’t needed to him to be happy. To him his goals were always more career oriented, much like his father. Setting his eyes on someday being a president of a local bank in France, living a comfortable life, once all the things fell into place. It wasn’t until one of his professors approached him and told him he could do so much more with his skill set. That aiming for just working in a bank was well below what he could do. While back to interning with his father, he signed up for all different classes at his university that his new mentor suggested from accounting, investing, human resources, project management, and more. This was where he got the first taste of the world of investment. 

When he graduated university he accepted a position in an investment firm as an entry level advisor. At the beginning it was mostly just paperwork and mind-numbing dribble. There came a point he almost gave it up, starting to think this wasn’t the career path for him. But, stubborn like a bull, he stuck it through and started to gather his own clientele and a name for himself within the business. 

Over the next few years Marquis continually raised through the ranks learning every bit he could about proper investing in companies, start-up businesses, and people. In his mid twenties, his father suddenly passed due to cardiac arrest leaving his mother well off financially. Though no amount of money can prepare a person for losing the love of their life. While his father had never been overly affectionate, his mother always said he loved her beyond measure at all times of the day. Something Marquis didn’t fully understand since he had never felt a love that powerful. What could he comprehend? His mother passing away only six weeks later. Doctors said it was respiratory failure but Marquis knew his mother died of a broken heart and couldn’t continue to live without the love of her life. Once the estate was settled each sibling was left a considerable amount of financials from everything from trusts to properties, something Marquis hadn’t even been aware they had. 

For awhile he floated lost in the world, losing both parents so close together and both of them prior to him turning thirty years old. He attempted his hardest to be a sounding board for his younger siblings when needed while still attempting to try and figure out his own grief and life — mainly how to move forward after something that rocked his life upside down. Anger, sadness, and grief started to consume him little by little so he threw himself into his work, storing his portion of money he had inherited into investments while he continued to work. 

After being overlooked and several promotions came and went with someone with less experience were brought up over him, despite the massive clientele base he had brought into the business, he decided to reach out to the one person he felt like he still had for his own sounding board. His old mentor and father’s old boss, this is where the budding idea started of opening his own investment firm in France. He wanted a mix of business consultancy and investments. Little did he know how good he’d be at running his own business, investing others money into proper channels and consulting for others to build their own businesses taking a percentage of profit to help up and coming business. For the next decade Le Marquis Business Consultancy and Investments Inc opened two more brick and mortar businesses in France, one in London, one in New York City, one in Miami and one in Los Angeles. For Marquis this was all about building his empire, building his legacy, and taking a no holds barge approach. 

Some considered him ruthless with the way he came in and built a company of seven offices around the world, but he was building something for himself, and no one else. His siblings, however, bugged him about settling down but it truly never crossed his mind. With the amount of travel and meetings to keep the expanse of businesses he had running who had time to think about settling down. It wasn’t that he didn’t date, he just didn’t let it get any further than a few fun nights in bed before going their separate ways. It wasn’t until he was home one Christmas at thirty five years old did he meet the new next door neighbor to his eldest sibling. It was here he understood the meaning of what it was to meet your other half and feel like you were struck by lightening all at once. Eleanor was confident, had a tiny business making jewelry and his idea of sweet talking was offering to invest into her business. What truly shocked him was the blunt way she told him to kick rocks and move along. 

It was no immediate love story, though he was captured by her immediately, but mostly it started off as bickering but slowly developed into more. Marriage followed nearly two years later after dating and they started talking about him slowing down as Eleanor wanted children. With a promise of opening one last firm, what he would coin his ‘retirement’ firm where he’d work most exclusively out of, would be what lead him to Merrock where Eleanor’s parents were local from. After finding the perfect building for his business they spent the next several months settling into Merrock life. 

Going from massive cities, constant traveling, and endless business meetings to small town life wasn’t easy for Marquis at first. It left him restless but his wife was patient with him. It was at 38 years old did both Marquis and Eleanor start trying for a family of their own. With his wife at only 32 years old he didn’t think it would be as hard as it was, but one year turned into two and they were slapped with potential infertility issues. With the help of medication and lots of patience, at 44 years old Marquis and his wife welcomed their first born daughter into the world. 

They were supposed to be on cloud nine, and it wasn’t supposed to happen, but twelve weeks later they got the news that after one night of celebrating, Eleanor was 5 weeks pregnant, and to bigger surprise came then when they found out she was pregnant with twins. Being that his wife was nearly 39 years old now she was placed in high risk. Marquis took every precaution possible once he heard those words, money was no object and he sought out the best medical care to bring to Merrock. At only twenty eight weeks along Eleanor went into labor delivering two premature babies, a beautiful baby boy and baby girl. They were small and needed time to develop in the NICU but they were strong, however his wife wasn’t as lucky. Due to the high risk pregnancy she suffered two embolisms in her lungs and by the time they caught it, it was too late and she didn’t survive through the night. 

At nearly 45 years old Marquis was now not only a widow but caring for three babies, an almost one year old, and newborn infants. His siblings came to Merrock and with the help of Eleanor’s parents to help him settle in as best as he could. Five years later he still regrets waiting so long to start a family. Part of him blames himself that if he hadn’t been so stubborn and worried strictly about his business, if they had tried earlier, she wouldn’t be gone. Not to mention the regrets he has not being careful enough after she had given birth to their first daughter. It’s a blame he hasn’t let himself forgive himself for, and not sure he ever will. 

At the end of the day, business doesn’t stop for anyone when you are running a global company. To be close to his wife’s roots and her family he decided to stay in Merrock, though his family suggested him coming back to France. After hiring a nanny to hep with the kids in between, he has done everything he can to be as devoted of a father, attempting to give them anything and everything they could want. It means learning how to balance the business that he hopes to someday pass onto his children, and spending time with his little family. Though if you had told him in his twenties he’d never thought at fifty years old he’d be a widower raising his six year old daughter and five year old twins. But something he’s learned several times in life, life doesn’t always go as planned. 

[one-time-i-dreamt]

My dad’s boss was murdered by his wife. When I confronted her about it, she turned into Billie Eilish and started singing Bad Guy.

[kingsbride-moved]

But stand brave, life-liver, bleeding out your days in the river of time. Stand brave: time moves both ways,

in the nullifying, defeating, negating, repeating joy of life...

Elisabetta Mounteverde Dmitrou (also called Elisa) is my sona for Pentiment! More info below, though there's huge spoilers for the game </3 (art credits: photinus (TH), last two are by me)

As the game's story transpires over 25 years, Elisabetta's age changes alongside it. While she is introduced at 24, she is 49 by the end of the story. She's about 5'3, and was originally born within Ethiopia during the Solomonic dynasty. As her parents were both recent converts to the Catholic church, it was thought Elisa's blonde hair and green eye (singular) were a blessing from god. Soon after being born, she was taken to the Holy Roman Empire, and "adopted" by a Italian noble family. Seeing potential in her from a young age, Elisabetta's adoptive parents gave her all she needed for a proper education, and Elisa soon developed a deep love for art and poetry both...! She was also very aware that she was considered something of a "spectacle," something people would point at as proof of god's glory. She hated this, but felt powerless to do anything. As the years went on, she retreated into her world of literature and paintings, always wary of the intentions of others. When she was of age, her choices became either to marry or join a convent. Elisabetta choose marriage... but choose a man who ran a printing press and was a member of the guild. This was a way for her to have access to new books as they were being made, as well as connect with writers and artists from across all of the Holy Roman Empire. As she settled into being married, however, something unexpected occurred... when her husband decided to commission a portrait of himself and Elisabetta to celebrate their union, he asked Elisa's father for recommendations on a painter. He recommended the son of Josef Maler, a long-time family friend, who had recently become a master artist. And so, the Dmitrous would become the first official clients of Andreas Maler in his new role as master. Even though it was supposed to be a painting of both of them, Elisa's husband was away more often than not, which of course slowed Andreas down </3 but it wasn't such a terrible thing, however, as he found Mrs. Dmitrou to be much more interesting... and Elisabetta found herself warming up to him in a way that she didn't often do with people. It didn't take long for the feelings between them to become romantic in nature, but with both of them being in (complicated!) marriages, they couldn't do much about it. Despite this, even after the portrait was finally finished, they kept in contact thru the post for the next 7 years... one day, however... the letters from Andreas stop coming.

(It is believed that Andreas Maler died during the fire of the Kiersau abbey, trying to save what he could of the library's books. in a way this is true; he withdrew from the living entirely. Those who caught glimpses of him thought he was a ghost. But hiding away within the forest, or within the Roman ruins beneath Tassing, Andreas Maler was very much alive... and one day, some 19 years after the fire, and some years after her own husband passed, Elisabetta receives a letter.)

Umm sorry this is already long I just love writing about their soap opera ass story </3 anyways as for her personality, Elisabetta tends to come off as a bit cold. She's incredibly wary of other people, to the point where even so much as holding a conversation is difficult. Her being very suspicious and analytical is partly due to the natural curiosity she holds, though. She loves learning about the world, despite everything. She is also fairly headstrong, and tends to do things her own way despite how others may object. When she's older, she starts to be a bit more open. She craves warmth and kindness and wants to feel as if she's a part of a community. The people of Tassing are kind to her... (and they don't go ratting off about when Elisabetta sometimes spends the night at Andreas' home, despite the fact that such behavior is improper for an unwed couple)

Silly funfacts: ~ Despite having such a serious personality, she has a lot of love for fairytales. She wants to believe at least some aspects from them are truthful, even if it's silly. ~ She can sing fairly well, but is awfully shy about it. She's willing to sing during Christmas celebrations so long as she's not the only one doing it, though. ~ One of the first things she did upon arriving within Tassing was fix up the old guest house which was no longer in use after the abbey fire. ~ She loves cats, specifically white ones. It didn't take long for her to make friends with all the strays living within Tassing as well. ~ When Madga returns to Tassing from Prague alongside her friend Esther, they quickly make friends with Elisabetta, both curious about what such a fancy lady was suddenly doing there, and Madga was especially curious about the person who was now using her dad's old printing press. Elisabetta in turn treats Madga as something of a daughter. Elisabetta is also friends with Veronica, Brigita, Ursula, Anna, and Paul. She figured out that Veronica and Brigita were in a relationship in no time (but also quietly let them know she's had crushes on girls before, too, and that their secret would be safe with her). ~ Anna and Paul's children call her "Auntie Elisa" !

[inevitablemoment]

Egon and Dana Friendship Headcanons

Okay, I’m so happy to see that my post offering Egon and Dana friendship headcanons gained enough interest, so... enjoy! It’s all under the cut.

The gang lets Dana (and Louis) crash at the firehouse when the Gozer incident leads to the subsequent demolition of the building on Central Park West.

Dana suffers a lot from night terrors, and not wanting to bother Peter, leaves the room to clear her head and sees Egon working in the lab late one night.

Egon and Dana get to talking, and he ends up opening up to her about the loss of his wife, as well as the custody of his daughter Callie.

Dana continues to struggle with the trauma of her experience, and Egon offers to let her and Peter spend a few days at his and Cathleen’s old lake house upstate.

When Dana and Peter’s relationship begins to fall apart, Egon makes it very clear that he will not be their “go-between,” which Dana is able to accept.

About a year after Dana and Peter break up, she begins dating Andre Wallance.

Even if he’s rubbed the wrong way by Andre, Egon is supportive of Dana’s new relationship-- she’s even able to convince Andre to let Egon be one of his groomsmen.

About halfway through Dana’s pregnancy, Andre auditioned for a traveling orchestra and was accepted.

As Andre wasn’t there for Oscar’s birth, Egon ended up being Dana’s Lamaze partner.

When Oscar was only a few weeks old, Andre returned from the tour, but told Dana that he was scouted by the manager of an orchestra in London.

Not wanting to uproot her life after just having a baby, on top of the other issues that they were facing, Dana filed for divorce.

She dealt with some pretty rough postpartum depression, but Egon always came through to help her.

It was rough for him, as Callie’s mother, Cathleen, also struggled with postpartum depression after Callie’s birth.

After defeating Vigo, Egon tries to call Callie, but his mother-in-law lies to him and says that Callie doesn’t want to talk to him, and Dana comforts him.

When Egon begins claiming that Gozer will return, it leads to Dana having a panic attack, which Peter verbally castrates him over.

The night before Egon leaves for Summerville, Dana visits him and he apologizes like he had never apologized before.

She forgives him and expresses concern for his increasingly erratic behavior.

He again apologizes and says goodbye to her.

Years later, in 2021, Dana is surprised when Janine Melnitz shows up at her and Peter’s door.

Janine tells her that Egon died, and that he was right all along about Gozer returning.

The two are able to convince the three remaining Ghostbusters to go to Summerville (though Ray needs a little more push), but Dana remains in New York.

A week in between the end of the film and the mid-credits scene of her and Peter, Dana and Oscar go to Summerville together.

Egon’s ghost shows up and they both tell them about all that he missed in the past thirty years.

Egon shares one final hug with his surrogate sister and nephew before he returns to his place in the afterlife.

[dogbound1128]

Villian: *Does a bunch of horrible things*

Me: Man what an asshole

MC: What the heck why you do that

Villian: My wifea... and my kidda... they gone...

Me every time:

[sir-qwillian-ferne]

Avemour lore thread ! ! !

Content warnings include: Child abuse, spousal abuse, gore, mutilation, child murder, cannibalism, autocannibalism, some themes of self-harm (mostly tied to the autocannibalism), and more. Read at your own risk.

Let's start this out with a nice OUTWARD perspective look at Avemour, rooted heavily in her public view. This is pulled directly from my card project, with Avemour as the Ace of Hearts.

Avemour is the oldest child of the previous king of the Farlyxe empire, though an illegitimate child at best. Their exact lineage is not well known, but he has been accepted as part of the royal family nonetheless, although it would likely cause uproar should she actually have sought the throne... They seem uninterested, however, and prefer helping his brother King Azailenne manage the workload alongside the two's other siblings.

Avemour is known to be a tad naive and ditzy, it's a miracle that she has yet to be tainted by the cruelty of the world. Their siblings take great care to make sure it stays that way - her having a meltdown would be impossible to manage.

Unlike most Xanthryx false angels, Avemour lacks wings and does not appear to eat human meat. It's widely assumed that he is half-human themselves, due to the cloudy nature of their lineage.

Now let me say how much of that is outright WRONG.

Avemour is not the oldest child. They're the oldest LIVING child.

Avemour is neither naive nor ditzy. They have an interesting combination of over-awareness of their surroundings and complete lack of self preservation (stemming from prioritizing any and everyone over themselves)

they have been hurt. a lot. His kindness is borne from cruelty, not the absence of it.

She does not need protection. Also his siblings talk about him behind his back and he KNOWS it.

Avemour is not half-human. But they ARE only half-Xanthryx

I'll add onto this thread in a bit with more.

( @officesupplied )

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 4

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond  (established OFC. Although you can just read this one and know what’s going on)

Warnings: profanity, brief mentions of child abuse, spousal abuse, drug and alcohol addiction, childhood cancer, child death

Tagging:  @tragiclyhip, @residentdormouse, @asirensrage, @ocappreciationtag, @ocappreciation, @occommunity, @themaradaniels, @munstysmind, @arrthurpendragon, @secretaryunpaid, @youflickedtooharddamnit​, @starryeyes2000​

My tag list is OPEN! Just ask to be added :)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/112737319

They choose a waterfront restaurant; his hand on the small of her back as they’re led to a quaint table for two on the outdoor patio. It’s reminiscent of that first night in Bangladesh; the hotel that the team had hunkered down in to iron out the mission’s details and identify and solve any possible strategic errors. She’d found herself incredibly disappointed when Tyler had been absent from the group meal; their initial meeting at his cabin in the outback had stoked the fires of both interest and attraction and she’d found herself desperate to be in his company as often as possible. Finding him incredibly intriguing; the strong, silent type possessed layers of mystery that she longed to chip away at. Anxious to find out the truth behind the stories she’d been told and the reputation that others had created; one of a quiet and extroverted man that could maim and kill without so much as breaking a sweat or blinking an eye. Somehow -despite the briefness of their initial meeting- she had doubted that last part; she’d felt neither intimidated nor scared in his presence and a lingering sparkle in his eyes told of a haunted man that killed for necessity, not enjoyment. And there’d been a gentleness in his smile; a testament to the humanity that still lingered inside of him despite the horrors he’d witnessed in both his military and mercenary careers.

She had quickly grown tired of the relentless -and drunken- ‘shop talk. Disgusted by both the boasting and the graphic descriptions of bloodshed and death and desperately needing a reprieve; excusing herself and ignoring Yaz’ offer of walking her to her room. She had long ago realized that such chivalrous behaviour came with an ulterior motive; lobbed about by touch and sex-starved men that spent too much time around male counterparts that they viewed every woman as a possible conquest. It was the nature of the beast; the price you pay -albeit unfair- for immersing yourself in a career steeped in massive amounts of testosterone.

After a brief stop for a shower and a change of clothes, she’d gone on the hunt; first going by his room and knocking for several minutes before wandering the hotel grounds in hopes of tracking him down. Not wanting to be alone, but was particular about who she wanted to spend her time with; wanting to learn more about him and hear not just the stories of growing up in Australia, but the mere richness of his voice and thickness of his accent. And it should have frightened her; how much she actually wanted to be with him. Mark had nearly destroyed both her body and her spirit and she’d vowed to never let any man get that close to her again; her one and only time of courage afterwards leading to heartbreak and disappointment. But she couldn’t stay away from Tyler; she needed him and wanted him and had suddenly been filled with brazen confidence.

In the end, she’d been rewarded. In more ways than one. Finding him in the hotel bar; spurred on by that warm and welcoming smile that continued to grow as he watched her approach. Welcoming her presence as opposed to being turned off by it; none of the aloofness and irritability that she’d seen him display when Nik had tried to get too close. Instead of rejecting her advances, he’d played into them; ordering them a round of drinks before escorting her -a strong and protective hand on the small of her back- to a booth at the back of the bar. Away from the thickening, noisy crowd; dimly lit and cozy and serving as yet another catalyst for things to develop between them.

It often seems like a lifetime ago. Dhaka. That night in the hotel bar and everything that came after it. The worry and the fear and the bloodshed and death. And those moments on the bridge when she’d willingly put her own life on the line in order to save his; utter terror flooding her senses as she stuck her fingers into his neck to staunch the flow of blood. It had been a decision that came with many parts; each working together to fuel her determination. Truly believing that he’d not only made amends for his mistakes, but deserved a second chance at life. And far more selfish reasons; wanting more time with him and a chance to see if they truly could make something out of nothing.

*****

Tyler watches her face across the table; her pale, smooth skin glowing under the strings of white lights wrapped around the patio’s columns and railings. Her hair pulled back and twisted into a makeshift bun; loose tendrils of hair swaying in the gentle, warm breeze that rolls in off the ocean. She’s a natural yet intriguing beauty that never fails to draw attention; he’s always aware of the admiring and lustful glances that men pass her way, and the looks of pure jealousy they shoot in his direction. Minimal makeup graces her features; their earlier time in the sun leaving her skin bronzed and glowing. And her delicate, petite frame clad in something so simple yet so alluring; a sleeveless, white cotton eyelet blouse and a flowing peasant skirt boasting splashes of purple, pink, and yellow.

She’s oblivious of his adoring gaze. Her eyes riveted on the menu open in front of her; a fingertip between her lips, nail tapping against her teeth. He’d never noticed the ‘little things’ about someone before; the amusement happens and the ‘quirks’ that make up their personality. She hums when she’s content and taps on her teeth when she’s thoroughly engrossed in something, and she twirls her hair when she’s bored and rubs at her right ear when she’s tired.

That quaint table and the smell of salt water and the moonlight dancing on the water is far removed from their beginnings in Dhaka. The crowded and noisy streets and the darkened alleyways with the potential trouble and danger around every corner. It seems a world and a lifetime away; that dirty little hotel room and the uncertainty of the job that lay ahead of them. At night they’d been able to escape from it all; content in the confines of each other's arms and a mess of rumpled and tangled sheets. Just Tyler and Esme; sharing sleepy conversation and light-hearted banter and laughing for the first time in years. Nothing more than Two broken and lonely people finding acceptance and solace in one another.

“You’re beautiful.”

Her reaction is expected. Looking up from her menu with a slow, almost cautious approach; her head tilted to the side and her eyes narrowed with skepticism. She doesn’t realize she does it every time she’s offered a compliment; weighing not only the words, but assessing both tone of voice and body language. A woman scarred by a lifetime riddled with abuse; a mother who despises her very existence; an ex-husband who thrived on degradation and humiliation. But when she’s satisfied that the compliment is genuine, her entire face lights up; a smile that puffs up her cheeks and crinkles the bridge of her nose and the corner of her eyes.

“You realize you’re just biased, right?”

“Maybe I am. Just a little. But it doesn’t make it less true.”

The smile broadens and she reaches across to push her fingers through his; joined hands resting on the tabletop as they return to their menus. He enjoys the simplicity of the moment; that comfortable silence, the smell of the ocean, and the delicious aromas wafting out from the kitchen. How the rest of the world ceases to exist whenever he’s with her; surrounding conversations and laughter seeming dull and muted. And a pure and innocent intimacy on display; their feet touching underneath the table and his thumb repeatedly brushing against her knuckles as her tiny hand lays nestled within his. Somehow fitting so perfectly together despite the enormous size difference; as if made solely for each other. All things he never experienced with someone before and never knew he craved.

“There are way too many things to choose from,” Esme laments. “But I think I’ve narrowed it down. Between the lemon and pepper swordfish and the mussels and shrimp fettuccine. What do you think?”

“I think you should get whatever you want.”

“They’re kinda expensive though. And probably huge portions. Last thing I need is to get fat. I’ve already put on ten pounds since I moved here.”

“Must be invisible because I sure as hell don’t see it.”

“All my clothes are getting too tight. I’m going to need new ones soon. And then you’re going to find me gross and unattractive and some pretty little thing is going to catch your eye and…”

“First of all, that’s never going to happen. We’ve had this conversation. More than once. There isn’t going to be anyone else. No one is going to show up on my doorstep or catch my eye or anything like that. Second, I wouldn’t give a shit even if you did gain weight. You’re the most beautiful woman on earth. I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

“Still…” she sighs, and chews on her bottom lip. “...maybe I should just go for a salad.”

“Maybe you should just order whatever you like. I don’t know if you grew up with this kind of thing, but you don’t have to be this way with me. Never with me. So please…” With his free hand, he snaps her menu closed. “...just get what you want.”

“But they ARE expensive. We’re not exactly rolling in cash. Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Are you honestly asking me for permission? To order food?”

A blush creeps into her cheeks and she quickly diverts her eyes. “I hate that I’m like this. I hate that this stupid shit never leaves me alone. Just when I think I’m over it and I’m doing okay….”

“You’re doing great, Me. Way better than a lot would be. You went through a lot. He put you through a lot. The fact we’re even sitting here…the fact you ever trusted me and we’re even together…that’s huge.”

“I just hate this. That I can’t let it go. I can’t let him go. What if it never stops? What if it gets too much to deal with? What if you just can’t put up with it anymore and…”

“That is not going to happen. I already told you that. We each brought our own bullshit to the table when we got together. You going to get tired of dealing with me? And all the crap I came with?”

“No. Of course not. I knew what I was getting into. I knew what kind of baggage you were hauling. Didn’t stop me from wanting to be with you.”

“So why do you think your stuff is suddenly going to bother me? Make me not want to be with you? It’s not going to happen. Not today, not tomorrow, not next week. Not even five, ten years from now.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t…”

“I do know that. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me. So unless you’re planning on cutting me loose…”

“Not a chance.”

“Then I guess we’re both in this for the long haul. Guess we’re both stuck with each other.”

“I’m sorry that I’m like this. That I’m neurotic and anxious and I’ve got all this ex-husband drama. I hate that it probably seems like I’m comparing you to him. Or that I’m expecting you to be like him. And I know you’re not; you’re nowhere close to being like him. I really wish I wasn’t like this. But I’m trying. I really am.”

Giving her a reassuring smile, he raises their joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “I know.”

****

After dinner they stroll the central market area; browsing in various boutiques and making wish lists of things they’d love for their first home together. And he leaves her by the town fountain as he fetches them ice cream; watching as she seamlessly immerses herself in amicable and energetic conversation with a young couple. Doting over their infant and then willingly and happily accepting the invitation to hold her; allowing mom and dad being able to enjoy their cappuccinos. A broad, beautiful, beaming smile spreads from ear to ear as she cradles the baby close to her chest; her body slowly and rhythmically swaying from side to side.

It’s so typical of her; meeting friends easily and effortlessly, they’re charmed by that warm and welcoming smile and her pint-sized frame and her infectious cheerfulness and optimism. And while he’d grown accustomed to her tenderness and compassion when he’d been healing from Dhaka, he’s never seen her in ‘mother-hen’ mode; her eyes dancing and her face glowing in a way he’s never seen before. That tiny little human bringing out the nurturer in her; the woman that’s wanted to be a mother for so long but had years ago had given up hope. Mark had stripped her of that; blaming her for the miscarriage of their child and calling her ‘defetctive’ and ‘abnormal’ and reminding her -as often and as much as he could- that no other man would ever want her because of it. So when her marriage had ended, so had her hopes of having a child of her own; vowing to never trust another man ever again. Determined to never let anyone get that close; wanting to protect her heart as much as humanly possible.

“Hey!” She cheerfully greets as he joins the group. “Look what I have!”

“You’re not letting her bring the little gal home with us are ya?” Tyler addresses the young couple. “Because I’m warning ya , if houseplants can’t survive around her…”

Esme rolls her eyes dramatically. “I am not that bad. Don’t listen to him. I’ve somehow kept all six foot three, two hundred pounds of him alive, haven’t I? I haven’t killed him. Yet.”

“Not for lack of trying,” he teases. “Who’s your little friend?”

“This is Paisley. Isn’t she beautiful!? And so tiny. She’s only two months. Isn’t she a little button?”

The baby’s mother beams with pride over the rim of her coffee cup. “Paisley doesn’t normally take to strangers. I was telling your wife that she must give up good vibes. For a fussy baby to take to her like that.”

“Oh, I’m not his…”

“She gives those vibes off to everyone,” Tyler gently interrupts. “Always making friends, wherever we go.”

“Well, she seems like a natural. You must have little ones of your own at home. How long have you been married?”

“We’re not married,” Esme says, as she carefully lays the infant in her mother’s arms. “We live together, though. In sin.”

“We’re the happily unmarried couple. For now.”

Grinning, Esme accepts the cup of ice cream he offers her. “For now? We’re going to end up the unhappily unmarried couple or…”

He shoots her a wink. “I guess you’re just going to have to wait and find out, aren’t ya.”

Playfully bumping him with her hip, she pops a spoon of rocky road into her mouth.

“I know having kids isn’t for everyone,” Paisley’s father pipes up. “I spent my entire teenage years and most of my twenties swearing I would never have any of my own. I always thought people were nuts for doing it; bringing kids into such a messed-up world. And then I met my wife and everything changed. My entire outlook. On settling down, on being a dad. Isn’t that amazing? How one person can change the entire trajectory of your life?”

“Yeah…” Tyler grins. “...it is. It’s not something you expect, but you soon find out it’s definitely what you needed.”

“He has his moments.” Sneaking an arm around Tyler’s waist, Esme affectionately pinches his side.. “He’s a man of few words, but when he lets them loose? They’re pretty awesome. Makes the heart just go pitter-patter.”

“I swore up and down I’d never get married,” the other woman declares. “I was strong and independent, after all. I didn’t need a man. But when you meet the one, you’re completely powerless. You become a totally different person. Most would hate it and end up regretting it, but not me. It was a change for the better.”

Esme nods in understanding. “I totally get that. I completely gave up my old life for one here. Even left the old me behind. And it was definitely the smartest thing I ever did. I know I won’t be ninety years old and regretting my decision.”

“Forgive me for being so bold, but if the two of you do decide to take that step and have kids, they’re going to be lookers. Be a shame if you didn’t add some of those genes to the world.”

“One day,” Esme says wistfully. “Maybe. We haven’t gotten to that spot in our life yet. We’re still trying to get used to each other, so…”

“Well, you won’t be disappointed. If you do decide to go in that direction. I’m sure you’d both make amazing parents.”

Lingering guilt and regret pull at Tyler’s heart; the often immeasurable pain that still surrounds the decision he made when his son was so sick and close to death. And for not committing to parenthood and his marriage during the healthier times; putting the military before his wife and child and adding to the stress that came with having a cheating spouse. It had been a mess from the beginning; they were barely out of their teens, marrying because of familiarity and comfort and what they’d both assumed had been love.

The last six months have taught him that it had been anything but; finding someone that accepts him -faults and all- and gives him that warm and secure place to let his guard down. He can be vulnerable with her; unafraid to express his feelings and emotions whether it be through actions or words. Slowly shedding that toxic masculinity a little bit at a time; learning how to be an attentive and caring partner and make sacrifices and concessions when it comes to the happiness and comfort of another. When that moment passes, Esme has already said her farewells and wandered away, and he nods at the couple before departing; catching up to her in three long strides and falling in step alongside her.

“She was cute, huh?” Esme glances up at him, a spoonful of ice cream poised at her lips. “Little Paisley? Hard to believe any human is ever that tiny.”

“You’re that tiny now, so….”

“You and your short jokes. All the damn time. I thought my little stature was one of the things that attracted you the most. Because you thought it was adorable. Or…” She eyes him suspiciously. “...did you hook up with me because you have a size kink I don’t know about.”

“A what?”

“A size kink. You’re abnormally tall, you’re insanely strong. You’ve got a foot and eighty, ninety pounds on me. That just screams size kink, if you ask me.”

“I have no fucking clue what a size kink even is.”

“It means someone gets aroused at the distinct size difference between them and their partner. Whether it be height, weight, muscle size, penis size…”

“Penis size? Is there something you’re not telling me.? Something about when you were born, maybe?”

“I was using it as an example. In your case, it would be height and weight. You’re a lot bigger than I am. With that size difference comes a power thing. You can easily manhandle me and…”

“Excuse you? I would NEVER.”

“I mean in a sexual way. It turns you on that I’m smaller. That your size and your strength give you sexual superiority over me. You can easily be in control. Get me to do what you want. WITH consent. You can be aggressive and domineering in ways I can’t. And that gives you a woody. Big time.”

“I feel like I should be lying on a couch, paying you by the hour.”

“Admit it…” She pops a helping of ice cream into her mouth. “...it turns you on. Being with someone so small when you’re so big. And getting to be the dom in the relationship. You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy it. Being the boss.”

“I think we’ve already established that. But a size kink? For real? Sounds like some made up shit.”

“It’s a real thing. And I think you have one. Didn’t you already say that I turn you on in ways none of the other women ever have? Including your ex-wife?”

“I did. But that’s because I love you. Not because you’re small. Your size has nothing to do with it.”

“Were any of them small like me? All your hookups?”

“I mean, there were smaller women. Not as small as you, but…”

“What about your ex-wife?”

“Just a few inches shorter than me.”

“And you’re being totally honest when you say that sex with her and all those hookups weren't as good? You’re being one hundred percent truthful.”

“One hundred percent.”

“Size kink,” Esme concludes, and laughs when he gives a derisive snort. “It’s the only logical explanation!”

“Maybe in your perverted little mind. But in the mind of a normal person, it would mean I’m more attracted to you than I was to them. I find you sexier than I ever found any of them. And you bring a lot to the table. When it comes to sex. It’s…enjoyable…with you. In ways it wasn’t with them.”

“Because of my size.”

“Esme…I swear to God…”

“Fine…fine…I’ll let it go.” Dipping her spoon into the rocky road, she side-eyes him and mutters, “Size kink.”

Scowling, he tugs at her ponytail; chucking and jumping away when she directs a slap toward his stomach. And he once more falls in step beside her, holding the cone in one hand and lays the other on the back of her neck. A companionable silence follows; content in just enjoying each other’s company and the cooler temperatures that have arrived with nightfall.

“Have you ever thought about it?”’ Esme inquires.

“I already told you; I didn’t know what a size kink was. I’d never heard of it before.”

“Not THAT. Have you ever thought of babies? Having one. ”

“I don’t exactly entertain the idea of squeezing a human being out of my dick.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

Laughing, he slides his hand from the nape of her neck to her shoulder; pulling her close to him and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. He enjoys the change in himself; the break from the darkness that she provides him with. Smiling comes much easier now; the lingering fragments of grief, guilt, and regret giving him more frequent and longer reprieves. And he’s made a conscious decision to enjoy things; relish every moment of the second chance at life that he’s been given. It’s all courtesy of her of course; her quirks and her nuances and all the little things that make Esme, Esme. Her love for cheesy eighties and nineties pop music and the hilariously off-key singing that comes with it. The way she dances around the kitchen in nothing but one of his t-shirts as she makes breakfast and those high-pitched shrieks during ‘jump scares’ in horror movies and how she buries her face in his side during the scarier parts. And that little squeal and the bounce on her heels she gives when she’s practically pleased about a situation; accompanied by those rosy, full cheeks and those enormous, sparkling eyes. Even her cheerful and incessant chatting first thing in the morning is something he’s grown accustomed to and would miss if it suddenly disappeared; grumbling and glaring while he nurses his coffee and she talks his ear off.

He’s come to acknowledge and embrace what her mere presence brings to his life; that immense sense of peace and comfort he experiences at just having her under the same roof. This beautiful, vibrant little being that is the first thing he sees at the beginning of the day and the last he sees before closing his eyes at night. And he’s begun sleeping better than he has in years; able to truly rest knowing that she’s not only tucked safely and securely beside him, but that she’ll still be there in the morning.

“I know what you’re talking about. And yeah, I’ve thought about it. A handful of times. In the course of the last few months.”

“Just since you’ve been with me? Not with anyone else?”

“I haven’t been with anyone else. Not in the way I’m with you.”

“None of your floozies were mother material, huh?”

“Esme, I was with them to get my dick wet. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And you look at me like mother material?”

“You know, you really test the limits of my sanity sometimes,” he teases. “Especially when you ask the obvious.”

“Listen, I’m just starting to find out where I stand. In your life. I need to…”

“Where you stand or where you lay? Because ‘naked and in my bed’ is the answer to that second one.”

“God you’re impossible,” she huffs. “It’s like pulling teeth with you sometimes. All I’m trying to find out is if we’re on the same page.”

“I say shit to get a reaction out of you. You should know that by now. I feed off it; seeing how you react to things. But yes, we are on the same page. I mean, we’re living together. We’ve dropped the L word on each other. We’re talking about getting a house, different careers, and all that.”

“So it’s something we’re both comfortable with. The thought of having kids. Together.”

“I’m more than comfortable with it. Why? Are you trying to tell me something or…?”

“No. I’m not pregnant. We’re not having a baby. I’m just asking all the important questions. Like I said, making sure we’re on the same page with things. “

“We are. I like the idea of having kids. With you. No one else. You.”

“But? I sense a ‘but’ coming here.”

“But are we ready for that sort of thing? Right now? Are we in a good place? To bring kids into things? I’m not too sure about that.”

“I mean, we obviously can’t bring kids up in The Kimberley. At least not where we are. We definitely would have to move. And it IS really soon. We’re only six months into things. We bring a baby into things only half a year in? People are going to think we’re nuts.”

“I don’t give a shit what people think. So it’s only been six months. I know you’re the person I wanted to grow old with. Have a family with. Who gives a fuck what everyone has to say about it? I’m thinking more along the lines that I’m happy with the way things are. It just being the two of us. It’s nice, don’t you think? Being able to just enjoy each other. Do whatever we want. Not worry about not having time for one another. And it would be good to get steady work. Decent money coming in. I don’t want to have to worry about not being able to feed my family.”

“It is nice. Being able to just spend time with one another. Concentrate on each other. Would you stay either the job or…?”

“I’d definitely walk away. Get a normal career. I don’t want my family caught up in that life. I’ve pissed off a lot of people. Stepped on a lot of toes. Last thing I want is some prick hell bent on revenge coming after my wife and my kids.”

. “Wife, huh?”

“I mean, living in sin isn’t a horrible thing. But I don’t want to be the ‘happily unmarried couple’ forever. I kinda like the idea. You being my wife, taking my last name, having my kids.”

“I kind of like it too.”

“You know what else I liked? Seeing you with that baby. You looked beautiful like that.”

Smiling, she snakes an arm around his waist and leans into him.

“I felt nice. Seeing that. I liked it.”

“You know…” she affectionately pats him on the bum. “...you really are a big softie.”

“I guess I am. When it comes to you at least. You seem to bring it out of me. You seem to bring a lot of things out, actually.”

“I know a good thing when I see it. You had a lot of potential. A total diamond in the rough. I mean, how wrong could I go with a complete hottie that’s hung like a horse? I mean, I was scared of the thing. When you first dropped your pants. But I’m no coward and I wasn’t raised a quitter, so…”

“I knew it.” Hand still on her shoulder, he guides her towards the nearest trash can. Disposing of her spoon and empty cup, and then cradling her face in his palms; thumbs brushing across her lips and removing any excess ice cream. “It’s the dick. It’s always been the dick.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, it isn’t JUST the dick. It’s a lot of things.”

He gives her a chaste peck. “Sure it is…”

“It really is!” She argues, attempting to push him away when he leans down to nuzzle her ear. “It’s a pretty lengthy list! Of very good things!”

“Lengthy? I’ve lived with myself for almost thirty-six years now. I’ve been dealing with my own brain for almost two decades. I know EXACTLY how short that list actually is.”

“You’re an insufferable prick,” Esme grumbles, and then squeals when he aggressively pinches her butt; giggling when a strong, calloused palm settles on the small of her back and pulls her tightly into him.

A long, content sigh escapes her lips when he kisses her; hands on his chest for balance as she climbs onto his feet for an extra couple of inches. It…HE…is everything she’s ever longed for; someone not afraid to kiss her and hold her and let everyone know that she belongs to him. Mark had been so different; cold and callous and refusing to both give and receive affection. And it had been so hard; having her love language neglected and starved for years. Relegating herself to a lifetime of loneliness before unexpectedly finding what she needed and wanted in someone just as touched starved as she. His body and soul bruised and weary and his heart broken; a damaged and demon-laden man who -unknown to him- had needed something…someone…to come along and bring him back to life.

He’s smiling when he pulls away; blue eyes sparkling as he presses a kiss to the tip of her nose. “But I’m YOUR insufferable prick. That’s gotta count for something, yeah?”

“Well, I suppose it isn’t that bad. I guess I can put up with you. Until I’m old and gray and senile and completely forget what kind of menace you are.”

“Don’t worry.” He gently loops wayward strands of her behind her ears. “If you do forget, I’ll be there to remind you.”

Pressing a kiss to her temple, he slings his arm over her shoulder as he directs her towards their hotel. Her hand is tucked in one of his jeans' back pockets as he leads her down the crowded sidewalk; protectively guiding her through the sea of people and across the busy road. Making her laugh when he unceremoniously scoops her off her feet; effortlessly lifting her over the cement partition that separates asphalt and beach. And she doesn’t give him a chance to cross over fully; climbing onto the barricade and then hopping onto his back. Arms circling his neck and legs wrapping around his torso.

“Don’t drop me!” she pleads, as he reaches behind in order to grasp the back of her thighs.

“Never.”

“I’m probably heavy.”

“You weigh next to nothing. How heavy do you think you’d be?”

“Like I said, I’ve gained some weight. At least ten pounds. Maybe we should pick up a scale for at home and…”

“Nope. We’re not going to do that.. Nothing good will come of it. You forming a relationship with a scale.”

“But I am heavier,” she laments. “I’m getting chunky.”

“You’re getting on my nerves is what you’re doing. You’re fine. You’re perfect, actually. And if you don’t stop annoying me with this kind of shit…”

“But…”

“Not listening.”

“Tyler…”

“Esme….”

She plants a noisy kiss on his cheek. “You’re so difficult.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black. Can we just agree? That you look amazing? That you’re sexy as fuck? That even if you DID gain weight, it wouldn’t matter to me?”

“Not even if it’s TONS? Like I get into high double digits for clothes?”

“What part of ‘it wouldn’t matter to me’ didn’t you understand.?”

“This is a battle I’m NOT going to win. Fine…fine…” She gently bites his ear lobe. “I surrender.”

They continue towards the hotel in silence. Esme pressing her heels into his chest whenever she wants him to stop; using her cell phone to snap countless pictures of the full moon and its reflection upon the rippling water. Smiling and cheerfully greeting everyone that passes; the old couples that comment on how ‘adorable’ they are, the younger pairings that eye their enormous size difference with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, the tourists that ask for their pictures taken with the moonlight ocean as a backdrop.

“Let’s stop for a bit,” Esme suggests, and he drops to his knees on the sand and allows her to slide off his back. “It’s such a beautiful night. I don’t want to go back just yet.”

“We don’t have to.” He gingerly lowers himself onto the sand; ignoring the various pops and cracks that emanate from his knees, hips, and shoulders. And he sits behind her, stretching his legs out before wrapping both arms around her slender frame and pulling her tightly into him.

“You and your romantic side,” she lovingly chides.

“I don’t not just hear you say that.”

“I know you think it’s ‘unmanly’ to be all soft, sweet, and romantic, but I find it incredibly sexy. It’s a turn-on. A HUGE one.”

Grinning, he places a kiss on her ear. “Maybe we should have just gone back to the hotel.”

“There’s lots of time for that,” she assures him. “Let’s just sit here. Just for a little while.”

Obliging, he drapes one arm across her collarbone and wraps the other around her waist. When she leans back against him, he rests his chin on the top of her head; eyes closing as he breathes in the familiar scent that clings to those dark tresses. And he smiles when she presses a kiss to the top of his wrist and then curls both arms around just one of his; giving a quick, firm squeeze before holding on as tightly as she can. Yet another example of the little ‘things’ he’s come to anticipate and enjoy; those quiet, comfortable moments, the shows of affection, and the ease in which their bodies seem to mould to one another. Joining and fitting together so perfectly despite their vast differences. ******

“Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“If we do have a baby…”

“When,” he corrects. “When we have a baby.”

“Would you want a boy or a girl?”

“I’d want a healthy baby. And…” he nuzzles her ear with the tip of his nose, then kisses her temple. “…a healthy mumma.”

She grins. “How diplomatic of you.”

“It wouldn’t matter to me. A boy or girl would be fine. Why? You have a preference? For the first one?”

“Not really. I mean, I think most women want a girl, don’t they? A daughter? I’m good with either or. I like to think about it; what your kids would like. A little girl with blond hair and blue eyes. Tall and lanky like her dad. His….”

“Who the hell are you calling lanky?”

“You are all limbs and torso. Very ripped limbs and torso, mind you. I mean, I find you a total hottie.”

“Scars and all?”

“Scars and all. I imagine she has your smile. And your elf ears and your big ass feet with their monkey toes.”

“I thought you said you find me hot. That doesn’t sound like you do. Big ass feet? Monkey toes? Elf ears?”

“I say it with love and you know it. And imagine a little boy? With my hair and your eyes?”

“Is he going to have my feet and ears too?”

“And your big head,” she teases and gives a yelp when he lightly nips at the side of her neck.

“My eyes and your hair, huh? That’s a pretty deadly combination.”

“Our kids will be so beautiful. Insanely beautiful. And when she grows up, our daughter will be tall and leggy; all tanned-skinned and messy, beachy hair and those amazing blue eyes. And she’ll be constantly beating guys off with sticks.”

He scowls. “Excuse me?”

“What? She will! Everyone will want to date her. “

“Think so, huh?”

“I know so.”

“You have any objections to me being the dad that waits up for his little girl? Sits on the front porch with a loaded shotgun in my lap?”

“I kind of do think that’s rather problematic. I don’t think that will sit well. At all.”

“You’re right. It’s a little overboard. I’ll settle for an axe. Hell, I could even do damage with a hunting knife. Wouldn’t be the first time that I had to…”

“How about we not employ weapons when it comes to scaring our children’s dates. Besides, you’re plenty scary without them. When you want to be. Or need to be.”

“You weren’t scared of me. Even though you’d heard all the stories. About me being some legend of some shit.”

“Well, to be fair, the second I looked at you? I was too much in lust to be afraid,” she teases. “All I could think of was finding a way to get into your pants. Or convincing you to get into mine.”

“Wouldn’t have taken much convincing. You would have just had to look at me a certain way and I would have jumped you that same day. Right there in the kitchen. On the table.”

“With Nik there? Kinky…”

“Obviously I would have told her to take a hike. You know, you should have called me that night. For a booty call. I would have shown up.”

“I was going to, but I totally chickened out. I was not in a good place mentally. I would not have been able to handle rejection. Bad enough you shot me down in Dhaka. After plying me with alcohol in the hotel bar all night.”

“First of all, I did not ply you with alcohol. You were a willing participant.”

“So were you. Until you weren’t. Until you totally bruised my ego and caused me emotional damage.”

“I had my reasons. I didn’t do it to intentionally hurt you. Are you going to hold that night against me for the rest of my life?”

“Maybe…” she singsongs, then turns her face into his and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“What’s that saying? All’s well that ends well? Or something like that? I may just be speaking for myself, but I think we both got the ending we deserved. Things worked out pretty well.”

“They did,” she agrees, and affectionately squeezes his arm. “I’m definitely not complaining.”

They lounge in silence for several minutes, listening to the ocean and admiring the way the moonlight dances on the rippling surface. His ear pressed against hers as her fingernails repeatedly glide up and down the forearm draped across her chest.

He places a kiss on the side of her head. “There’s something I need to tell you. Now that we’re talking about next steps and the future and all that. Better to get it out into the opening before I put any babies in ya, I figure.”

She casts a frown over her shoulder. “Sounds serious.”

“It is. It’s definitely something we need to talk about. Or I need to talk. And you need to hear.”

Lifting his arm from her collarbone, she turns to face him, sitting back on her heels and reaching for his hands. “Are you okay? Are WE okay?”

“I’m fine. A little sore still and having a bit of trouble sleeping, but I’m better than I have been in months. Years, even. And yes, we are fine. We are more than fine. I can’t believe you’d even ask me that. Haven’t we been talking about buying houses and getting married and having kids? Think I’d be talking any of that if we weren’t fine?”

She gives a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. My brain immediately goes to the negative. . I guess when you’ve spent years expecting the worst and getting it…”

“We are good. We are more than good. It’s just something I think we need to get out in the open. Sooner rather than later.”

“I don’t want to be as nervous as I am, but…”

“I just need you to listen, okay? I just need to get it out there. Whether it makes any sense or not. I’ll just get it out and then we can talk about it. Sound good?”

She nods.

“As much as there’s a part of me….a HUGE part…that wants that second chance…at being a husband and a dad….there’s also another part…a much smaller one, that’s terrified.”

“Of?”

“I fucked up. Big time. With Sarah and Austin. Not just when he was sick and dying, but for the entire six years that he was on this earth. I wasn’t a good man. I put the military before my family; I ignored them and I neglected them and I was away more than I was home. And I know she wasn’t the best wife; she was emotionally absent and mean as hell at times and was constantly cheating on me while I was deployed. But she still deserved a lot better from me. And so did my son.”

“We all make mistakes. There’s times we don’t treat people as well as we should. But as long as we acknowledge it and regret it and learn from it…”

“We were so young. When we got married. I hadn’t even turned twenty yet. Practically a kid still. I thought she was the one. The person I’d spend the rest of my life with.”

“She was the love of your life. She was…”

“No. She wasn’t. Not even close to it. I mean, I did love her. Or at least it’s what I thought love felt like. When I think about it now, I realize we really just settled. Both of us. Marriage was the logical next step; we’d already been together for a few years and neither of us wanted to put in the work of finding someone else. What we had was comfortable. Familiar.”

“But it wasn’t love.”

“Not real love, anyway. Took me until I was thirty-five to find that.”

Smiling, she leans into him; gentle fingertips clearing the longer strands of hair from his forehead before cradling his face in her palms and kissing him. Long and soft and sweet, yet somehow powerful enough to take his breath away. And when she pulls away, he can’t control the sly grin that curves his lips.

“Who said I was talking about you?”

Frowning, Esme places a palm against his face and gives a playful shove. . “Cheeky fucker.”

He grabs her by the back of her neck when she tries to move away. The resulting kiss much more intense; the hard, demanding press of closed mouth upon closed mouth. “Come on now, you know I meant you.”

“I wasn’t going to assume anything. You assume something and the next thing you know, you’re met with utter disappointment and you end up sitting in the bathtub with your eyeliner and mascara running down your face, eating ice cream straight out of the carton while bitter Taylor Swift break up songs play in the background.”

“Is this something that you’ve experienced a lot, or…”

“Hey, my teenage years weren’t easy, okay? Especially being bi. Do you know what it’s like being short and chunky and having your heart consistently broken by both girls AND boys?”

“Can’t say I do. And just you know, Taylor Swift wasn’t around when you were in high school.”

Esme gives an exasperated huff. “I was using her as an example.”

He stares at her pointedly.

“Okay, so as an adult, I may have faced some rejection. After my divorce. And it may have prompted me to drink half a bottle of tequila, put on some Tay Tay, and sit in the tub and eat an entire carton of rocky road. But it only happened once!”

“Just once, huh?” He brushes wayward strands of hair away from her face “And who is this dick head? That broke your little heart. I may pay him a visit. And break his face.”

“It was a long time ago. More than a year before I met. And yeah, it hurt. At the time. It was my first attempt at trusting someone. After Mark. I guess I was so desperate for someone to love me that I completely read into things. I put all my eggs and one basket and it totally backfired on me.”

“Someone you worked with?”

“Not like I worked with you. Just someone that I occasionally helped out. We were friends. I actually ended up introducing him to his future wife.”

“Ouch…”

“ She was the first friend…non job friend…that I made in New York City. They ended up being way better for each other than he and I ever could. . For what it’s worth, he was a good person. A good man. A lot like you, actually. He was hurting and broken and I could relate to that. I think we were just both so desperate for someone to rescue us and fix us that we didn’t really think things through. Turns out I could trust him with my life, but not my heart.”

“Where is he now?”

“I have no idea. I lost contact with everyone in New York once I started working for Nik. I’d worn out my welcome there. It was time to move on. Professionally and personally. And what’s that saying? All’s well that ends well? If things had worked out there, I wouldn’t be here right now. And if you ask me, I definitely traded up.”

“Did you? Because the whole hurting and broken thing…”

“You’re not broken, Tyler. Not really. A little dented. A little worse for wear. But definitely not broken.”

“Ask me, you have a type. Messy.”

“Messy in the sexiest way possible,” she teases, and squeals when he wraps both arms around her and collapses backwards onto the sand. Snuggling tightly into him, she tucks her face into that warm, comfortable nook between his neck and shoulder and reaches up to gently cup one of his ears; fingertips repeatedly travelling along the outer edge. And she gives a long, content sigh when one of his hands sneaks up the back of her shirt; feeling the callouses against her bare skin. The soft, familiar sensation effortlessly relaxing her; eyes closing and the caressing of his ear ceasing.

“I’m worried I’m going to fuck it up.”

She raises her head to look at him. “What are you…?”

“Us . Once we take things further. Marriage, kids, the whole nine. I’m scared I’m going to end up screwing it all up. Like I did the first time.”

“That’s a long time ago. So many things have changed. YOU’VE changed.”

“I’m worried that I really don’t know the first thing about any of this. Commitment…REAL commitment. How to put someone else first, make sacrifices for them. What if I really am a selfish prick? What if we get married and start having kids and I just make the same mistakes all over again? What if I can’t put you above the job? Just like I couldn’t put her or Austin above the military? What if…?”

“Tyler…” Laying a hand on his cheek, she turns his head to face her. “...you are NOT that person anymore. Not even close to it. You’ve realized your mistakes and you owned up to them. Not to mention you talk about not wanting to go back to being that guy. You are way too determined to be different the second time around. There’s no way you’d let that happen.”

“What if I can’t help? What if it’s just…IN me…to be that way? Some kind of weakness? Something I can’t control.”

“Because you’re self-aware. Because you’ve already made changes. Which shows you ARE in control.”

“I want to do things right this time. As a husband. As a dad. I don’t want to make the same fucking mistakes twice. End up a total failure. Not in your eyes.”

“That’ll never happen. I would never look at you that way. Ever.”

“I just want to be what you want and need. And deserve.”

“You are,” she assures him. “I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. I wouldn’t…”

“You make me want to be a better man.”

She blinks. “What?”

“You do. You make me want to be better. And do better. I want to be the husband and the dad you and our kids can be proud of. So years from now…when I’m gone…you can look back and say I did what was best for my family. I took care of you, loved you, and did good things. I was there. I was home and present and always put you guys first. And all that? That’s all ‘cause of you.”

Tears well in her eyes; lower lip and chin trembling as she tries to hold back her emotions.

“Please don’t….fuck….” Cradling the back of her head in his palm, he presses a kiss to her brow. “...don’t cry….I hate when you cry. Especially when I’m the one doing it.”

“They’re not bad tears. They’re good ones. Happy ones. I’ve just never had someone say something like that to me before. I think it’s the most beautiful compliment anyone has ever given me.”

“It’s the truth. I want to be the person you deserve. I don’t want to make you all kinds of promises and break every single one. I don’t want…”

She pecks his lips to silence him. “I think you underestimate yourself. You are so determined to be a better person. And you already are. You’ve come a long way in just the time I’ve known you. You talk openly about feelings and things that are bothering you, you’re not as embarrassed to show emotion, you’ve gotten rid of a lot of that toxic masculinity. That’s a big change, Tyler. For anyone.”

“I just don’t want to fuck it up. Be a total disappointment. I didn’t exactly have the best role model; I didn’t really have a lot to look up to when it came to being a husband and father. What if I turn out just like him? What if there’s something in me that…”

“You are nothing like him. You never could be. You…”

“Where do you think I got all the bad stuff from? The anger issues and the drinking and the uncanny fucking ability of making the worst possible decisions?”

“I think you have more than enough reason to have some of those things. I think you had a shitty childhood and the lack of stability and love and all the abuse completely traumatized you. I mean, you used to hear and see him beat your mother. You lost the only good person in your life when you were just a kid. And then he made you his punching bag and…”

Smirking, he playfully tugs on her ponytail. “I knew hooking up with someone with a psychology degree was going to backfire on me.”

“You don’t need a psychology degree to realize trauma really fucks people up. It leads to so many problems. Anger management issues, alcohol and drug dependency, sexual promiscuity…”

“Are you calling me a slut?”

“You went through your man whore stage. You sowed your wild oats all over the damn globe. You keep ready and available women in ports all over the place. You were obviously looking to fill some kind of hole inside of you…”

“No. I was looking to fill some holes in other people.”

She scowls.

“Let’s not pretend it was anything other than wanting to get my dick wet. Can we agree on that? I just wanted to get laid. Without any strings attached. Don’t read too much into it.”

“You didn’t want to form connections and feel things for people because it scared you. Because the last time you felt something…truly felt something…it totally bit you in the ass. Your mother died, your wife turned out to be a total heartless skank, your son got cancer and suffered. Everyone you loved, you lost. And you didn’t want to go through that again. It would make sense that you’d turn to meaningless sex. It was a way of protecting yourself.”

“No. It was a way of getting laid. I wasn’t looking for anything else. Just that. We’re going to have to agree to disagree on this, because…”

“Leaving your slutty, perverted ways out of things, you’re nothing like your father, okay? You ended up angry and turning to drugs and pain meds to numb the pain. You suffered all that abuse and then tremendous loss and it’s only common sense that if you were never taught proper coping skills you’d turn to those things.”

“And what if I turn to them again? When things get rough? Because they will. Esme. I’m not perfect. I’m not the easiest person to live with. What if we go through a really bad stretch of things and I don’t know how to cope? Without the booze or the pills. Then what?”

“Then we work through things together. Like a healthy, committed couple does. You’re not in this alone anymore Tyler. I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere. No matter how messy things get. And if you do slip, then we deal with it as a team.”

“You really are a glutton for punishment.”

“Good things are worth fighting for. And you’re a good thing. A very good thing.”

“You don’t deserve any of that. That kind of mess. I don’t want to do that to you. I don’t want to be that guy again. I don’t want to be a mean husband or an angry dad. And if that’s all I know…”

“There is no way you could EVER be anything like him.,” she insists. “ You’re way more of a man than he could ever hope to be. And yeah, you made some mistakes; when it came to Sarah and Austin. But you’ve learned from them. And you’ve grown a lot since then. We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you hadn’t. You wouldn’t be stressing out the way you are. You wouldn’t be worried or scared of any of that. This is all a good thing. Tyler. The fact you’re feeling all of this and able to even talk about it? That’s HUGE.”

“I just want to do it right. I want to be who you need and want. And deserve.”

“To me, you already ARE those things. And that’s not going to change. You’re not going to wake up one day and be a completely different person. Things can only get better, right? Onwards and upwards.”

You know,” he smooths loose tendrils of hair away from the sides of her face. “You have an awful lot of faith in me.”

Smiling, she runs her knuckles along his jaw and softly pecks his lips. “Somebody has to.”

[unovan-gardener]

What are you so desperate to protect your child from?

.....Sproutling- he's-

very sick. very very sick.

My wife- Bryony. She wanted a child so badly. A little sprout for her to take care of.

.......When. Cultivar- was born.

Bryony she-

.............Well. You already know. But, Cultivar. He didn't-

....He was stillborn.

It was the worst day of my life. To lose my wife- and my child? You could not imagine the pain I was in.

So I turned to my work.

And I created a miracle. It's tedious work, to keep a dead thing alive. You must keep them safe. So safe. Any bump- any risk, any danger...

....His heart. Is the weakest part. And anything could set it off.

If anything were to happen to Cultivar........

...........I dont even want to consider it. It's not an option.

I cannot lose my son again.

[renaenkosi]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: gugu mbatha-raw

full name: anna renae nkosi

nickname(s) / goes by: renae

pronouns & gender: cis woman / she/her

sexuality: straight

birth date: september, 21, 1982.

birth place: merrock, maine

arrival to merrock: local

housing: apartment downtown

occupation: artist/teacher

work place: the color wine / vender at collab

family: NA.

relationship status: single

PERSONALITY

Renae is soft, she never speaks a word that she hadn't thought deeply about. She means everything she says whole heartedly. Despite her loss she is still very much a romantic, though it might stir scary feelings up. Renae is someone that you can call on any hour of the night and she will upend the earth if it meant helping someone she cared for.

WRITTEN BY: Andrea (she/her), est.

triggering / sensitive content: spousal death, infertility.

Like art, life isn't always easy, it isn't always pretty, and Renae's life was no exception. Her beginning was filled with joy, laughter, and happiness. Beneath, or rather, above all the positive memories hung a heavy cloud that threatened to unleash a destructive storm at any moment. A cloud filled with mistakes, sadness, confusion, and violent waves of anger. Her negative feeling peaked at the passing of her spouse, and like a flood gate, the cloud burst open for all to see. Perhaps the grief wouldn’t have been as strong if the two had children, she would have something to hold on to; however, Renae was never able to find herself pregnant. Doctors were never able to give her a reason, which provided yet another reason she was so angry at the world. She was still young, only 25, none of this should have happened to her, not at this age. Her loss sent her in a downward spiral that she wasn't sure she was going to be able to survive. During her spiral Renae picked up a paint brush, she had always been rather talented at creating things, but it wasn't until that intense loss that she began to fully realize and appreciate her abilities. Without her easel and brushes she would probably end up in the abyss of her mind. She used her artwork as a way to heal and process her loss, and eventually, with the push of an unlikely friend, she took her talents to college and graduated with a bachelor's in fine arts. It's been 15 years and although she is not unscathed from the loss, Renae is healed enough that her heart doesn't ache as if it might burst out of her chest. Between her art and the therapy, which she still attends, she was able to find a sense of comfort in the world. Renae finds herself smiling more now, seeing the beauty in life again, and leaving her family no longer scared for her well-being. She now works at The Color Wine in hopes that, maybe, she can help someone else find love in art, that she can possibly help someone else heal from trauma.

[the-feral-gremlin]

OH MY GOD, I’m fucking sobbing.

Tyler Childers created a motherfucking masterpiece of a song and music video.

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: gugu mbatha-raw

full name: anna renae nkosi

nickname(s) / goes by: renae

pronouns & gender: cis woman / she/her

sexuality: straight

birth date: september, 21, 1982.

birth place: merrock, maine

arrival to merrock: local

housing: apartment downtown

occupation: artist/teacher

work place: the color wine / vender at collab

family: NA.

relationship status: single

PERSONALITY

Renee is soft, she never speaks a word that she hadn't thought deeply about. She means everything she says whole heartedly. Despite her loss she is still very much a romantic, though it might stir scary feelings up. Renee is someone that you can call on any hour of the night and she will upend the earth if it meant helping someone she cared for.

WRITTEN BY: Andrea (she/her), est.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content: spouse death, infertility.

Like art, life isn't always easy, it isn't always pretty, and Renee's life was no exception. Her beginning was filled with joy, laughter, and happiness. Beneath, or rather, above all the positive memories hung a heavy cloud that threatened to unleash a destructive storm at any moment. A cloud filled with mistakes, sadness, confusion, and violent waves of anger. Her negative feeling peaked at the passing of her spouse, and like a flood gate, the cloud burst open for all to see.

Perhaps the grief wouldn’t have been as strong if the two had children, she would have something to hold on to; however, Renee was never able to find herself pregnant. Doctors were never able to give her a reason, which provided yet another reason she was so angry at the world. She was still young, only 25, none of this should have happened to her, not at this age. Her loss sent her in a downward spiral that she wasn't sure she was going to be able to survive.

During her spiral she picked up a paint brush, she had always been rather talented at creating things, but it wasn't until that intense loss that she began to fully realize and appreciate her abilities. Without her easel and brushes she would probably end up in the abyss of her mind. She used her artwork as a way to heal and process her loss, and eventually, with the push of an unlikely friend, she took her talents to college and graduated with a bachelor's in fine arts.

It's been 15 years and although she is not unscathed from the loss, she is healed enough that her heart doesn't ache as if it might burst out of her chest. Between her art and the therapy, which she still attends, she was able to find a sense of comfort in the world. She finds herself smiling more now, seeing the beauty in life again, and leaving her family no longer scared for her well-being. She now works at The Color Wine in hopes that, maybe, she can help someone else find love in art, that she can possibly help someone else heal from trauma.

[flxwersbytxmas]

ꕀ ᐝ 𖠳   pedro pascal, cis man, he/him 𖠳 ᐝ ꕀ  ‷ heads up ; if you hear FREE FALLIN' by TOM PETTY blaring, it’s most likely TOMAS HERNANDEZ making their way down the shore ! they’re 45 years old and celebrate their birthday on 7/27 - i knew they were a/an LEO ! especially since they’re very GENEROUS and SELF-DESTRUCTIVE. they are from ALBUQUERQUE, NEW MEXICO, staying in DOWNTOWN and are currently working as a/an FLORIST, here at the cape. they always did remind me of a five o'clock shadow first thing in the morning, strong coffee, having the perfect flower for every occasion‷ { davis, 31, he/him, mst, n/a}

Basics

NAME Tomas Ricardo Hernandez NICKNAME / ALIAS Tommy (by his family) GENDER / PRONOUNS cis man / he/him DATE OF BIRTH July 27th. 45 STAR SIGN / ZODIAC Leo PLACE OF BIRTH Albuquerque, New Mexico NATIONALITY American ETHNICITY Hispanic RELIGION Catholic ECONOMIC CLASS lower middle class SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S) English, Spanish, French 

PERSONALITY

POSITIVE TRAITS Generous NEGATIVE TRAITS Self-Destructive INTROVERT VS EXTROVERT Introverted MORAL ALIGNMENT Chaotic Neural LIKES reading, coffee, flowers DISLIKES loud people, small talk, exercise

HOME + EDUCATION + WORK  

HOMETOWN Albuquerque, New Mexico CURRENT RESIDENCE cape may, new jersey PREVIOUS RESIDENCE(S) Albuquerque, New Mexico, Paris, France

PROFESSION / OCCUPATION Owner of Fleur en Fleur SIDE HUSTLE N/A

EDUCATION high school diploma DEGREES N/A INTELLIGENCE above average

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES / HEALTH + MENTAL HEALTH

FACE CLAIM Pedro Pascal HEIGHT 5’11 BODY TYPE / BUILD relatively average HAIR messy and unkempt EYES deep dark brown TATTOO(S) none PIERCING(S) none GLASSES yes, but he only wears them at night even though he should wear them all the time DOMINANT HAND right PROMINENT FEATURE(S) IDENTIFYING MARK(S) none ATHLETICISM if he’s running you should also be running SCENT coffee and a mix of floral scents STYLE whatever is clean 

DRINK yes SMOKE yes DRUGS no ALLERGIES blueberries PHYSICAL HEALTH hasn’t gone to the doctor in far, far too long 

ILLNESSES / CONDITIONS depression, probably. Anxiety, definitely VICES smoking, nostalgia ADDICTIONS cigarettes 

FAMILY & ROMANCE

FATHER Leroy Hernandez MOTHER Tina Hernandez SIBLING(S) two brothers, three sisters BIRTH ORDER 3rd of 6. CHILD(REN) One step-son, one daughter (WC’s in the works!)  PET(S) Two cats named Chompsky and Butter 

RELATIONSHIP STATUS widower SIGNIFICANT OTHER none SEXUAL ORIENTATION bisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION completely closed off to love so…

FAVORITES

COLOR(S) red and pink HOLIDAY Halloween NON-ALCOHOLIC DRINK(S) Pepsi ALCOHOLIC DRINK(S) pickle back FOOD(S) Steak and potatoes, enchiladas, posole MOVIE(S) doesn’t like movies SERIES Love is Blind 

MISCELLANEOUS

MUSE INSPO TROPES / AESTHETICS Girl dad, in loving memory, how do I go on without you, functioning alcoholic THEME SONG Free Fallin’ by Tom Petty HOBBY(IES) reading, writing, cloud/stargazing, drawing, flower arrangement, scrapbooking. HIDDEN TALENT(S) plays the trumpet very well and has since he was in his Middle School band

BIOGRAPHY 

coming soon to a post near you!

[meremere21]

Just saw and read a Times article about how 70% of men die within a year of being widowed…and it just made me realize that it’s almost the 10 year anniversary of my Grandma’s death, which was devastating because it came out of almost nowhere (she caught C. Diff when she was at the hospital for a different matter), and how my PawPaw only lived until the following January. He had extenuating circumstances in the fact that he had Parkinson’s, but my whole family’s of the opinion that he only held on for as long as he did because he wanted to have one last Christmas with all of us.

Sometimes the sadness of losing loved ones hits you really hard. They were such a huge part of my life, we’d see them at least 2-3 times a month and outside of my parents and sister they were my most important people. Grandma was the one who taught me how to bake and play the piano and PawPaw was the one who taught me how to fish and play dominos. Grandma’s death hit us hardest because, while we’d been slowly preparing ourselves to lose PawPaw to his Parkinson’s for years, we weren’t prepared at all to lose her so soon. Looking back on it, losing both of them in such a short amount of time and no longer having either of them to call or rely on probably contributed to the depressive episode I spiraled into my senior year of college.

And now I’m even sadder because thinking of my grandparents and the relationship my sister and I had with them is reminding me that so far and probably for a long time to come…my nieces aren’t going to have that kind of relationship with my parents, because my sister’s husband is an emotionally, mentally, and psychologically abusive bastard who absolutely hates our parents, especially mom because she doesn’t tow his line and agree with everything he says like his own mother does, and has done everything he can to separate and isolate my sister from our family. He only tolerates me because he doesn’t see me as a ‘threat’. He gets mad at her for even TALKING to our parents outside of their therapy sessions and our parents can count on one hand how many times they’ve seen their grandchildren since they’ve been born (…and honestly so can I, but even though I’m allowed in their home…I’m not comfortable being in his space knowing what he’s doing to my sister and our family). The girls are turning one this week.

And until my sister is truly ready to admit that her husband is abusing her and either ask for help or just pack up the girls and leave herself…I fear that my nieces will NEVER have the kind of relationship with their grandparents that my sister and I did…

[inevitablemoment]

Love Me Whatever (Forever)

Word Count: 485

Warnings: Mentions of past spousal death from cancer

Fandom: Ghostbusters

Pairings: Egon Spengler x Janine Melnitz

Yay! This is my first time writing for Janegon, and I’m so excited! I mostly wrote this as a gift for @ariel-seagull-wings, so I hope you enjoy it!

Set in my AU where Cathleen still dies, but Egon keeps custody of Callie and ends up remarrying to Janine. This fic is set on Valentine’s Day 1985, so Callie had her fourth birthday the previous month.

I mention an OC of mine, Janine’s sister Pauline Melnitz, briefly.

Enjoy!

————————

“Again, I am sorry that we had to postpone date night again,” Egon apologized as he brushed Callie’s hair.

“Egon, I told you, I’m not mad,” Janine reassured him. “I’m the one taking all the calls, so I know how exhausting it’s getting. I’m just glad we convinced Peter to hire Pauline as extra help.”

Even though Callie’s focus had mainly been on the cartoon that was playing on the TV, she did speak up. “I like Pauline-- she’s funny.”

Janine smiled. Pauline had once entertained the idea of becoming a teacher, but decided that she would be all in on her dream of becoming a famous novelist.

“She told me that you went to Disneyland,” Callie told her.

“We did,” Janine recalled. “I got to meet Cinderella-- I almost fainted!”

Callie laughed at Janine’s exaggeration, and Egon set the brush aside.

“Okay-- bath time,” he told Callie.

Callie made a whining noise. “No!”

In her short years of living, Callie knew that each step in her nighttime routine was a step closer to her bedtime.

“Callie, please-- you do this every night, and it hasn’t changed anything before,” Egon tried reasoning with her, even though it never worked in the past.

“No!” Callie repeated.

“Hey, Callie, how about I give you your bath, and your dad and I will read you two books before bed?” Janine suggested.

Callie considered the offer before saying, “Okay.”

Janine was able to keep Callie entertained in the bath with her bath toys and telling her another story about her childhood Disneyland vacation. Callie always loved hearing Janine talk about her childhood in the same way that he loved hearing Egon’s stories about growing up. And Janine fulfilled her promise; she and Egon each read a book to Callie.

Both Egon and Janine kissed her goodnight.

“Good night, baby,” he whispered.

“Good night, Daddy,” Callie said.

“Good night, Callie,” Janine smiled.

“Good night, Ima.”

Both Egon and Janine froze as they began to walk out of Callie’s bedroom.

Ima.

That was Hebrew for “mother.”

Janine looked at Egon, trying to read his expression to guess what he would be thinking about his child calling his girlfriend of barely three months “mommy.”

She remembered when she had first entered the firehouse when she had found the ad in the paper, and she had seen Egon trying to entertain this beautiful child. Egon had described Callie as being the image of her mother, but Janine could pick out the pieces of him in her visage and personality easily.

Janine didn’t ever want to disrespect Cathleen’s memory, but she knew that it was also true that Callie barely had any memories of her mother. Cathleen had been diagnosed only a few months after Callie’s first birthday, and died two months after her second birthday.

But, somehow, she still felt a sense of pride at Callie’s words.

A sense that she was... cherished.

[snow-hart-a]

Flora Mea

A warning before we begin: This series of drabbles will have some very concerning content that I will do my best to tag. If anything is not tagged properly,please let me know.

I will never know if my wife knew all along that she wouldn't make it, or if she was just as taken by surprise as I was. All I knew was that there shouldn't have been that much blood...she barely got to hold our daughter before she passed. Passed...what a shoddy way to describe a human soul's final journey....I could only hope that she was happy where she was now. I couldn't visit her, not with her soul having been brought into Elysium. And now all that remained of her was swaddled up in my arms, accompanied by condolences from the deity that helped deliver them... my little flower. My pride and joy. My whole world.

My daughter. Lili in the Greek language...but Lily or Lillian in the modern tongue, so named by her mother before she died. She slept in my arms, enclosed in my wings as I listened to the waves upon the shore, trying to process my grief. It was different than when I lost Lucifer...more raw, more...empty. Like a chasm had opened in my chest, swallowing all hope...all joy. Save for one

How tragic it is to love that which death can touch...how more tragic still for her to love the reaper....I could not help but fear that it was I who doomed her. But...she would not want me to think that way, so I tried to focus on the now. On the baby in my arms, on the sea breeze in my hair. The only one of my siblings that was allowed to be near me during this time was Gabriel....he was the only one right now I could trust...and Raphael was out of the question as I didn't wish to get him in trouble.

I had already broken three major laws of Heaven and our Father by being here right now. I had fallen in love with a human, was fraternizing with another pantheon, and I had a child with a human.... All three of these counted as treason, with the second being high treason, no less...

Four more infractions would spell disaster, my knowledge of our laws told me as much...but right now, I cared nothing for our law. My sole concern was in this little life that I held in my hands. Gabriel told me that the Nephilim not the ones like Cain or Lily were becoming too...aggressive...they were killing and eating humans at a terribly high rate. And that was making Father and the other angels very nervous...because these Nephil weren't picky, and had developed a taste for our kind too. I feared what this might mean for my child...for Cain...for all the Nephilim that were innocent in the sins of the others. Surely they wouldn't all be made to suffer for this right?

[dogbound1128]

I'm so angry they killed my wife (rottmnt)

Wife is platonic

And I mean rottmnt the show

*looks at polaroid of first image result when you look up rottmnt* *Sigh* I miss my wife readers, I miss her a lot, I'll be back