#the sister’s’ relationship for the life of her but come. on.

[lunasdreamytreats]

Best kept secrets

Baizhu x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW // !PSUDO STEPFATHER/STEPDAUGHTER RELATIONSHIP! don't like, don't read // modern au // legal age-gap (Baizhu's in his late 30's, reader's in their early 20's) // drinking wine // reader calls their mother 'mama' // petnames (darling, little girl / good girl) // daddy kink (u call him it a few times and he calls himself it too) // mentions of drugs and aphrodisiacs // begging // oral (m+f receiving) // fingering // dumbification // bad writing (was still finding my writing style as i began writing and its not fully proofread)

Word count: 3.5k... (jeez i went crazy)

A/N: HBD MY LOVE 🥰 I love Baizhu sm, been planning this bad boy forever. Please enjoy and make sure to read the warnings carefully and lmk if I missed something ❤️

'How did this happen again?' You ask yourself as you accept another kiss from the man you knew as your stepfather. It feels so wrong, until you remember how your own mother is a cheating gold digger herself. Virtually your whole life up until a year ago had been on the move. Your mother would marry rich men who owned whole companies or company branches and either bankrupt them and leave or cause a scandal so they go out of business and leave. Over 19 years you’ve had a total of 10 stepfathers and you've never been really close with any of them.

As far as you know, the most recent one is the only one out of your stepfathers that has more than one source of income. He owns the only pharmacy in town while also working as a doctor. It must be taking longer to burn through it than normal, you thought, since you're still there.

You feel as if you should be grateful that your mother hasn't ruined it yet, because you've grown fond of life in this family. Your little sister Qiqi absolutely adores you as her big sister. Although your not sure if your mother knows about this, but your stepdad, Baizhu, absolutely loves being able to spend his money on you. Whenever you get off work he'll wait outside for you in the car with your favourite music ready to play. He'd drive around town with you for half an hour before going to pick Qiqi up from school. If you saw anything you wanted while driving, he'd tell you to quickly jump out and buy it with his card.

“Sweetie I don't care how much it costs if you want it I'll gladly get it for you.” Is what he'd say if you tried to protest in any way, in the end, you’ve just accepted it as him wanting to spoil you. Baizhu was very different to any of your other stepfathers, for one, he's making an effort to bond with you..... Oh and he's young, well, young compared to the others. At only 35 when they got married, he was 2 years your mother’s junior and 17 years your senior.

The 4 of you lived a fairly drama-free life up until tonight, when Baizhu came back home after dropping sweet Qiqi off at her best friend Yaoyao's house for her very first sleepover. He came in and asked you to come downstairs and sit on the couch, saying he needed to ask you about something important. You promptly closed the game you were playing and put the controller back, coming down to see Baizhu in the kitchen with a bottle of white wine and 2 glasses.

“Oh? What's the special occasion, Dad?” You asked before sitting back down with him.

“It's about your mother, (Y/N).” You froze slightly, wanting to ask him if anything bad happened to her. However, before you could speak, he placed one of the full glasses of wine into your hand.

"Do you know if she cheated on any of your other stepfathers, like any one of them?"

“Well I don't know for certain, but I've got a feeling she cheated on all of them, including my father.” You lifted the glass of wine up to the light and swirled the liquid around before continuing.

“Right when she leaves them, I found that either their companies crumbled, or they declared bankruptcy. Some less than 6 months after their wedding. It's happened way too many times to be a total coincidence.” Looking over at him, you saw a small sigh leave his lips as his eyes met yours. The low light of the lamps on the wall adjacent to him made his golden irises glow. ‘Oh fuck that's really pretty.... h-hold on a god damn second, that's your stepdad your talking about, dumbass!’ You quickly shook the thought out of your head and took a sip of wine to distract yourself.

“Why'd ya ask?”

“I saw your mother with someone and they were talking about how long until they can run off together....” You always had a feeling she had an accomplice her little scheme, but a whole ass lover all these years? Baizhu leaned forward in order to put the wine glass back on the counter and shifted to face you.

“Thank you for telling me this, my darling.” Eh why the lovey dovey language? He seems to be awfully calm for someone who just found out what a horrible person his wife is.

“Dad.... now that you've caught mama, when do you want us out of here by?”

“Hm? Why would I kick you out, darling?” Again with the darling! Is this really how fathers express their affection towards their children?

“I-I just thought since she's cheating on you, you wouldn't want her or her child arou-!” He's laughing? How? You thought he'd be annoyed. And yet here he is, not only not giving a toss about the current situation, he's laughing at it.... Why?

“Do you think I'd leave my cute, sweet little girl all alone without someone that loves her like I do? No no no darling. Besides, this is the best time to show you something that I've been planning this last year.” What could that be? You wondered. Come to think of it, from his plans for Qiqi's birthday party to things he's overheard at work, he's never kept anything a secret from you. He stood up and retrieved a piece of paper from inside a safe in the wall that he hid behind his back so you couldn't see what was written on it. As he sat back down, you managed to catch a small glimpse of the contents of the paper, you saw your signature there and what you can only assume is Baizhu's, both written in black ink next to each other at the bottom of the page.

'Oh! He must be holding the adoption papers we signed after the wedding'. You had another quick glance at the paper again before he folded it up and set it down on the table.... What?? You must be hallucinating because your pretty sure the words 'certificate of marriage' were at the top of the page. Hang on, if that's a marriage certificate, then why did you clearly see your signature next to Baizhu's?

“Did you see it, my darling?” Baizhu's words brought you back into the moment at hand, oh, that and his hand resting on your waist. The small gesture causing a shiver to shoot up your spine. “You’re my real wife. And you have been all this time.”

“How?” The reality of this situation hitting you like a boulder made your voice go hoarse, coming out like a broken cry. How was he able to hide something so big for so long? “How did I not notice it?”

“I'll be honest, I only got close to your mother so I could be with you, my darling. I knew what your mother was when I saw her, now she's the only one in the dark about it.” Baizhu's voice broke through the stifling silence around us. This is so weird, you’ve always thought your stepdad was a nice man, in personality, heart and looks. And you’ve told your friends about how you'd like your future partner to be like him. So should you go along with it?

“B-But what about the wedding night? Didn't you and mama have sex?”

“Nope, she ran off after the ceremony, I spent the night in your room.”

“W-what!? How the fuck did I not feel you?”

“Not when you've taken the deep sleep elixir I put in your food. I’d put it in whenever I knew your mother was going out for the night.”

“Oh, so that's why I hardly remember those nights.”

“Fuck, you're so cute when you don't know what to make of a situation, darling. I wonder what your reaction is going to be when I do this?” With no warning, Baizhu pulled you closer, onto his lap, and kissed your neck. The bold action made you gasp in shock. While you were distracted, he took the opportunity to catch you off guard again and kiss your lips. The kiss was just as he was, gentle and full of passion, yet demanding. Letting you know that although he’s being gentle, he’s still the one in control. He’s holding you so soft and tenderly, it makes this kiss feel like a natural part of life. Like your forgetting you two had a completely different relationship before...

That's how it came to you and your stepd- no, your husband making out in the open space of the living room. :)

'This isn't wrong. He's my husband.' You told yourself as you kissed him back. The grip his hands have on the flesh of your hips was so soft, as if he couldn't bare the thought of hurting you. Which, in a way, was true. He couldn’t bare the thought of being the reason you were in pain. As the kiss deepened, he felt more comfortable in exploring your body. His hands gently glide up your body before setting on your chest. His hands circle your body to where the dress zipper and bra clasp were.

As his arms pulled you closer, his fingers grazed the bit of exposed skin, making you shiver at the contact. Pulling away from your lips, Baizhu looked at you with love filled eyes and ran his finger over the neckline of your dress before hooking a finger on it and tugging at the fabric.

“My darling, can I?” He asked, rather breathless from the deep kiss. You could only nod in response until you find your voice. That was another way that Baizhu shows he cares, he was patient when you couldn’t get your words out. It was a thing you had struggled with for most of your life. And although it was a small gesture, it was something that mama never bothered to get right.

“Y-Yes daddy~” You managed to whisper a response, your head already felt dizzy and the neck kisses didn't help. Hearing daddy leave your mouth must’ve awakened something primal in him. With a newfound spark of lust in his eyes and a tightened grasp on you, his teeth grazed the skin of your shoulders. You reached behind your back to start unzipping your dress, only for your wrists to be pulled away and held back in one of his hands, while the other pulled the zip down slowly.

“Shhh~ darling, let daddy take care of you now.” An uncomfortable thought came into your head; ‘what if mama came back without warning to see her daughter, clothes slipping off, on her ‘stepdad’s’ lap making out with him?’ But don’t worry, Baizhu has a plan to deal with her if she comes back early. There’s no chance he’d allow this perfect moment to slip through his fingers again. After he pulled the zipper went all the way down, Baizhu started to gently draw circles on your newly exposed skin. The heat building up between your legs was getting frustrating, so you started to rub your clit on Baizhu's thigh to relieve yourself. Until he noticed and gently held your hips in place.

“Darling, I thought you’d let me take over tonight.. you know what happens to bad little girls that don't obey their daddies, don't you, darling?” Baizhu whispered, gently kissing the shell of your ear before continuing, “They. get. punished.” Taping your shoulder blade with each word. Each tap of his finger sent electrifying waves of pleasure down your whole body. You can’t help but lean into his touch, drunk on how quickly you crumbled under his teasing. One thing was for certain, however, the pleasure you felt was unreplicable.

“M'sorry daddy.. don’t punish me, I-I’ll b’good, please..!” You plead, hoping he’d be merciful on you. Since nobody can blame you for being needy. After a few minutes of drawing circles on your back, your dress and bra went flying off you, yelping when the cool air collided with your breasts. Smirking, Baizhu gave your hips a squeeze as his lips left a trail of kisses from your jawline down your chest, before latching onto the hardening nipple. Swirling around it with his tongue, he copied the motion on the other with his fingers, tugging whenever he sucked. All night, Baizhu had been focusing on giving pleasure to your most sensitive spots, like he already had a mental map of where he should focus on.

While your attention was taken up by the stimulation to your breasts, Baizhu let his free hand snake down, across your tummy to settle between your legs. One touch of his slender fingers to your puffy folds sent you jolting forward into his neck with a moan. Thing is, that one touch was only light, nothing much to most people. But to you? Mind-numbing. Actually, you don’t think you’ve ever been this sensitive to anything before.... it’s like your sensitivity to touch became enhanced. Could Baizhu have given you something to do this?

“You like that, don't you, darling? Good girl. Tell me, who’s making you feel this good?”

“Y-You daddy, s’you makin me feel good”

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” With every word, he swiped the pad of his thumb against the nub of your clit. Your hips subconsciously bucked into his hand with newfound lust. Like your body was chasing after his touch after he retracted his thumb. Baizhu's fingers ghosted over the outline of your clit, prodding at your hole. Easing the tip of his index finger inside while holding you steady. When your body relaxed, letting him know you were comfortable with him inside, Baizhu pushed you to the couch so you were laying on your back with him on top. The hand that’d been holding you steady now moved from your lower back to hold your cheek softly, catching any tears that fell over your eyes.

“Fuuck, you're clamping on me so tight.. I’ve barely even started with you, never thought a little foreplay would be all it takes to get you begging for me so soon, darling.” Don’t mind him though, he’s just being all mean and teasing you! He began slowly moving his finger in and out, slightly curving it to graze your soft inner walls. He added a second finger gently, stretching them apart in a scissor motion and continuing to touch places you couldn't dream of being able to touch on your own.

“Fuuck~ ur fingers~ s'deep!” It almost felt uncomfortable, keyword almost. The tender kisses Baizhu left along your body made any kind of discomfort you felt fade away. That is until a strange feeling came creeping into the pit of your stomach. A twisting and churning sensation like a knot threatening to make your insides explode.

“Ha~~! A-Ahh! D-Daddy, feels weird..!”

“Oh? A weird feeling, you say? That's your orgasm building up, darling.” His thumb quickly swiped against the sensitive nub of your clit, “Now be a good little girl and cum for me...” Your eyes peeped open at his words, only for stars to invade your vision as the knot came undone over his fingers and the couch. Your fucked out expression caused Baizhu to smirk in satisfaction, taking pride in being the only person to ever make you orgasm; other than yourself, of course.

“Good girl... ” Baizhu glanced down to where you both connected, taking note of how his wrist was now slightly wet... Did you squirt over him? Or was it sweat? This encounter certainly left you catching your breath.. Your body twitched sporadically as your walls finally began to relax around his fingers, and you sighed in satisfaction. Feeling you come down from your high, Baizhu gently pulled his fingers out, awestruck at your essence which was now dripping down his digits.

“Daddy... love you” You reached your hands out and Baizhu took them in his own, helping your sit up and kissing your knuckles softly.

“Love you too, darling. Cuddles?” He asked, holding his arms out so you could come to him if you wanted. You practically jumped up and slid into his lap, burying your flushed face into his shoulder. ‘Oh, you’re the type to get all cute and cuddly after sexual encounters...’ Baizhu thought, but that’s fine, he’d give all the cuddles you could ever need if you asked. You feel him gently smile on the top of your head alongside wrapping his arms around your middle.

Of course, with all that Baizhu’s done for you tonight, you couldn’t just ignore how hard this encounter made him. His dick throbbed against the cloth holding it back, simply begging for him to do something to relieve it.

“Daddy, lemme help, wanna help it..” You attempted to slip off his lap to kneel between his legs, fully prepared to help him. But he tightens his hold on your body, preventing you from moving much.

“No darling, y’can help me from here.” Baizhu reassured, moving the fabric that concealed his cock out the way. It bounced back against his abdomen, splashing a little precum over his stomach. Your eyes widened, you’ve seen dicks before, (in sex-ed class), but nothing like this. His dick was much bigger than anything you ’ve seen, and certainly bigger than you think you can take. Noticing your unease, Baizhu gently took your wrist and brought your hand to touch it.

“Lemme do it with you, darling... help me feel good too, yeah?” With one arm still holding you tightly, Baizhu’s other hand joined yours, guiding you in jerking him off. Even under two people’s grips, his dick still twitched and pulsed against your hand. Biting your lip, you lean your head down to press small kisses and kitten licks to his swollen, red tip. You looked up at him, still with his tip nestled snuggly in your mouth, eyes trying to convey what you want; for him to use your mouth like a fleshlight.

At first, poor Baizhu didn’t know what to say; he didn’t want to lose his composure and ram into you so hard that it became more uncomfortable than pleasurable, but the look in your eyes conveyed that you were actually begging him to lose it. He let out a long, shaky breath before moving the hand that had been on his cock to hold your hair out of your face. He didn’t even realise he was holding his breath...

“Tap my thigh twice if it gets too much for you, ok darling?” You nodded and began easing more of him into your mouth. He almost couldn’t think straight with just his tip in your mouth, but seeing you slightly struggle to fit him in drove his size kink mad. Baizhu’s fingers raked through your soft hair before setting at the top of your neck, taking control back from you and moving your head along his shaft.

Muffled whimpers and gags mixed with Baizhu’s groans made it easy to lose oneself in ecstasy, so you never noticed the small commotion happening on the other side of the door; never noticed the amused smile on your lover’s face upon realising the trap he and the millelith set achieved it’s intended outcome. Not that you were meant to know about any of this anyway...

“Sh-! Shit, on your knees, darling” You nodded and slid his cock out of your mouth to get into position, obediently for your husband. Baizhu rose from the sofa, guiding his dick back into your mouth as soon as you settled down. This time, he allowed himself the chance to thrust his hips into your mouth, meeting the pace you originally set. His thrusts started slow and deep, becoming more desperate as the pleasure built up.

“god.. m’gonna cum darling” Baizhu’s hold on your hair tightened, pulling at the strands that were wrapped around his slender fingers. He had to lean against the nearest cabinet since his thighs were twitching so much, his legs might’ve given out on him. You have to say, Baizhu’s groans of raw pleasure were a melody you’d never get tired of hearing. Baizhu abruptly pulled out from your mouth, gently taking your hand off from his thigh to place it on his heavy, aching cock.

“Finish it off, darling.. y’did so well, wanna cum on your pretty face..” You nodded and dragged your hand across his dick, feeling the way the large bulging vein running along the underside of his shaft throbbed with need. You leaned a little further up, enough to press your lips against the sensitive skin just underneath his tip. Baizhu’s grip on your hair tightened as his free hand grasped his cock, giving it a few languid pumps.

“Keep still, sweet girl,” He could barely get the words out before the tight coil inside his slender body snapped. Creamy white cum painted your face in spurts and globs, a testament to the adoration that Baizhu had harboured for you for so long.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Part I: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Part I: On her daily morning run, Y/N wonders if she’ll ever have someone who wants her simply company. Spencer promises her just that, the only catch: she has to wait seven years.

Rating: Eventual smut, fluff and longing

Word Count: 3.5K

Series Masterlist | Tell Me What You Think!

My Mind Turns You Into Folklore: The Prophecy — June 25, 2011

Running, somehow, still made her feel like a child. Perhaps there was something unadulterated and carefree about losing yourself in the pounding of pavement. When Y/N felt the wind rush in her ears and the familiar burn throughout her body, she truly felt alive.

Her entire body ached— no, screamed— as she approached her fifth mile for the day’s session. Her smart watch beeped, altering her that she had maintained her 9 minute mile pace. For Y/N running wasn’t about getting to the destination fastest, but about finishing the race altogether.

She wished she could apply such wisdom to very particular aspects of her life. Namely, her love life. For Y/N, relationships with men were unpleasantly predictable. From terrible blind dates with friends who she honestly can’t tell if they meant well to men with habits so strange Y/N could only plead insanity by a drunken state as to why she entertained even a second glance. Unfortunately, for her the sea of men seemed to solely be comprised of rather the unfortunate sort of men that made her skin crawl.

Her knees burned as her mind ran through the five weddings and babies that were impending. Between cousins, college friends, and even her own sister all either, Y/N never more lonely than when she was surrounded by her people. There was something particularly voyeuristic about watching those you love move along the carousel while you’re left in the dust. She was a casual observer, marooned to the sidelines. And someone where along the way she forgot to even care.

Her chest burned as she wondered where her aunt, a woman born and forged from pure spite and hefty lack of tolerance for anything progressive, would sit her at her cousin’s wedding. Y/N heaved forward imagining what would be worse; the discarded old widow’s table with wives whose husbands’ expiration date had come and passed. Or with her unruly nephews who would have to be wrestled into a tiny tuxedo and bribed with fried food and the majesty of Red40 to maintain the semblance of civility.

Being 27, husbandless, boyfriendless, and childless didn’t usually bother Y/N. She loved her peace. But somehow it put her into this plane of existence where she straddled youth and adulthood. She had one foot jammed deep into the rich, sodden earth of childhood and one toe dipping too all too calm to be safe waters of adulthood. Yet being uncoupled was as if she purchased overnight shipping to the elephant graveyard.

It was antiquated. It was downright sexist, yet there was a small part of her heart and her entire being that craved to be taken care of by a man. She wanted someone to bring her flowers just because, to hug her from behind while she stirred soup for dinner on a chilly day, to brush her hair from her face as he brought her to the brink of pleasure time and time again.

There was only so much her vibrator could do.

But a heart that ached to be loved, that problem didn’t come with a WebMD link. There wasn’t a quick and easy fix to change something that defined her on a molecular level.

She savored the sweet breeze that reminded her of summer and childhood. The houses, various shades of blue, gray, and beige blurred past as she maintained her steady pace.

Y/N rounded the corner and pounded the pavement that led to Betsy’s Cape Cod. She was the Head Librarian and took Y/N under her rather Mother Goose-like wing three years ago when she took the position at the small, sleepy library. A suburb of Quantico, many of the patrons were families in public service.

She even stumbled across someone who quickly became her best friend, Spencer. He was some sort of former child prodigy turned adult wunderkid. After racking up more diplomas than most extended families collect, Spencer worked as a special agent for the FBI. But looking at him, you would never have guessed. He was timid and shy in a boyish way that made him seem much younger than 32. He was tall and lanky, yet despite his slender frame he seemed to completely light up every single room he walked into.

Both Betsy and Spencer buried themselves into the fabric of her life. Betsy sat on the front porch, slowly swaying on the large, wooden swing. A crocheted blanket lay over her lap, keeping her warm under the brisk morning’s chill.

“Y/N!” Betsy called, as she ascended the stairs with a bright smile, “Dearie, it’s far too cold for you to run out here.”

“I could say the same about you, Bets,”

Betsy dismissed Y/N with a coy smile and a wave of her hand. “It’s good for my old bones to get a little chill. Make sure everything is in working order.”

Betsy scooted over on the porch swing, making more than enough room for Y/N to sit.

“That tall kid? Hmm, Spencer? Yes. Spencer. Was in there looking for you yesterday. Poor kid’s entire day was ruined when I told him you were on a date. Now, is there a reason why you didn’t tell me you didn’t tell your best friend?” Betsy asked, not hesitating to ask a question that went straight for the jugular.

Y/N offered Betsy a weak smile. “There wasn’t anything to tell him. He’s not interested in my love life. We talk about books. And work. And… I don’t know…”

Betsy nodded, but her pointed look pressed Y/N to continue. There wasn’t anything romantic between her and Spencer, but that wasn’t to say the connection wasn’t the most important thing in her life. When she met him three years ago he simply waltzed into her life; a tall, gangly man with a large appetite for baked goods and an excellent taste in literature.

“Besides, he has a thing for his coworker. Even though she hardly acknowledges his existence.”

From the time she met Spencer, he constantly was talking about his teammates. Growing up, Spencer didn’t have a stable family life. His mother tried her best, while his father never tried at all. He grown up not knowing what it was like to belong anywhere and now he finally found something resembling a family.

JJ was blonde and skinny and perfect and Spencer was completely enamored with her. Y/N met her only a couple of times, the first after a football game. She shared a plate of cheese fries and gravy with Spencer’s other coworker, Penelope as Spencer attempted to spout an almanac’s worth of facts about football to JJ.

“Hmm,” Betsy murmured, swinging back and forth. “Well, he said he has to talk to you about something. Maybe he’s getting to his senses, finally.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipped some of the ice cold lemonade Betsy handed her, and gave her a pointed smile.

“This isn’t a romance novel, Bets. You’ve been sneaking too many of those bodice rippers.”

She stood up and felt some relief as her weary muscles stretched. Betsy waved another annoyed hand.

“Quiet down, Missy. I’ve had my chance at love. And I fully intend on you and Spencer being an item. My Arnold, may that old bastard rest in peace, never gave me children, so you and that boy are my only chance to fill this house with grandkids.”

“Oh my God, Betsy,” Y/N groaned, her head tossed back, “It’s not like that between us. And I promise you, it never will be.”

Y/N took off before Betsy had the chance to respond. But she couldn’t shake the funny feeling tugging at her heartstrings. She thought that maybe if she just focused her mind on feeling the wind blow her hair and her body burn as the third mile turned into a fifth, she could wash away the thoughts of one or two little children sitting on Betsy’s porch, sandwiched in between her and Spencer.

***

Gary, as it turned out, wasn’t a nice guy. First of all, he showed up precisely 23 and a half minutes late and hardly bothered to greet her as he sat down at their two seater table. He barked a drink order to the waitress, who graciously threw Y/N a sympathetic smile.

“So you work at Walter Reed?” Y/N asked, attempting to make conversation with the man seated in front of her. He was a couple years her senior and an Attending Emergency Room Doctor. On paper Gary seemed wonderful. He had a nice family; older sisters were always a green flag in Y/N’s book and seemed to have a basic grasp of personal hygiene practices.

Gary mumbled as the waitress brought him his drink: whisky on rocks. He downed it in about three minutes and signaled for the waitress to return.

“Sorry,” Gary apologized, his voice so close to resembling being embarrassed, but it, somewhere along the line, made a beeline in the opposite direction, “There was some bitch in the ER today complaining about how her boyfriend didn’t believe her when she told him she was pregnant. Took me a god damn hour to shut her up. Jesus, reminds me why I don’t date.”

Y/N felt her face freeze. It was like his harsh words poured ice water over her shoulders. Her skin practically crawled as Gary’s carelessness settled in. Wasn’t this a date? Or was this simply the means for Gary to get into her pants.

“Hold up,” Y/N said, gesturing with her hand held up to stop Gary’s rant, “I was under the impression this was a date. Is it not?”

Gary shrugged. “As long as there’s a happy ending with you, babe I don’t give a fuck.”

He was crass. Y/N was far from a prude. She enjoyed her time in college and didn’t mind the occasional quick one night stand when the opportunity presented itself, but there would be something completely debasing and revolting about sleeping with the man sitting before her.

“I think you’ve gotten the wrong impression.” Y/N said, her words clipped and stern: there wasn’t room for Gary to mix up any bit of her message. “I’m not looking for a fuck-buddy. And even if I was, it certainly wouldn’t be you. We’ve been sitting here for all of twelve minutes and you’ve already drank two whiskys, been rude to the waitress, insulted a patient, and offended me.”

Gary, in a lackadaisical way that could only be described as a fuckboy with the worst case of Peter Pan syndrome, shrugged his shoulders. He downed the rest of his second whisky, “You’re a frigid bitch anyway.”

He left.

And Y/N laughed. Then she ordered two slices of double chocolate cheesecake and asked the waitress where the closest liquor store was.

***

Silently, she cursed Spencer’s charming love of buildings with character. She bounded up the steps to his apartment, the plastic bag with the two slices of cheesecake banged against her leg. Her other hand clutched the neck of a cheap, screw top rose.

Her date, disastrous, was nearly comical, and she couldn’t wait to recount the details to Spencer.

They share a sort of sadistic penchant for relaying moments for their occasional first dates. Typically, Y/N had more than Spencer. On the rare occasion Spencer did have a date, Y/N found herself trying to explain that any girl in her right mind would attempt to flirt with Spencer, but he refused to see her points.

Not bothering to knock, Y/N opted to use the spare key Spencer gave her. She figured he’d either still be working at the office or would be too engrossed in his latest fantasy novel to bother answering the door.

Spencer’s apartment was painted a dusty, sage green. The farthest wall was lined with built-in bookshelves. A prewar relic, Spencer’s style mixed perfectly with the vintage quality embedded within the walls.

Up until recently, Spencer’s kitchen was hardly used. But Y/N had taken it upon herself to teach Spencer the basics in prepping meals. He was a quick study, as with almost everything he tried. And it gave her some peace knowing he would be able to provide himself something more satiating than granola bars and frozen lasagna.

“Spencer! Spence!” Y/N called out, dipping her head into Spencer’s second bedroom. There was a queen bed in there with a cream colored quilt splashed out on the bed.

On late nights spent watching old, black and white movies or binging episodes of The Twilight Zone and The X-Files, she would crash there. It was a fight for her to even concede to allow Spencer to purchase the queen bed. Y/N claimed that she was fine just sleeping on the couch, but Spencer insisted that she sleep in a bed.

And if Y/N had been born into a braver soul, she would’ve suggested they share his bed three years ago.

Spencer shuffled out of his bathroom, eyes red and weary. He wore a tattered Cal-Tech shirt and plaid pajama pants. He wore his glasses. They rested on the bridge of his nose and made him lose at least four or five years on his already young looking face.

“She’s pregnant.”

“I brought wine. And chocolate cheesecake.” Y/N replied, kicking her shoes off. “And you better have done laundry already because I am not sleeping in this dress. I feel ridiculous in it.”

Spencer’s eyes raked over Y/N’s frame, as if he was internally debating his thoughts on her outfit. His brow furrowed. “You’re date?”

“Asshole.” Y/N said, walking into the kitchen. She plucked two wine glasses from Spencer’s cabinet and two plates. “Arrogant and only wanted a quick fuck.”

His voice disappeared as he went into his room for a change of pajamas. They were freshly washed. She continued to listen to Spencer as she shut the bathroom door and changed behind. His voice was no longer muffled when she came out of the bathroom, but she did notice how Spencer’s eyes still were heavy with something unfamiliar when he looked over her baggy, old pajama-clad frame.

“You’re not the girl for that.” Spencer commented, reaching for the corkscrew. His large hands twisted around the device and the bottle of wine made a satisfying pop.

“You don’t know that.” Y/N countered, her defiance made a crop of red appear on Spencer’s cheeks. “Besides, that’s not the point. JJ’s pregnant. With that New Orleans guy’s baby?”

He nodded. It was as if grief washed over Spencer as Y/N changed the conversation. She knew that Spencer was harboring feelings for JJ. Jennifer was nearly perfect in every way. The only imperfect thing about her was that she didn’t realize how perfect Spencer was. He would’ve adored JJ if he got the chance. He nearly did.

“And how do you feel about that?”

Spencer groaned, pouring himself a healthy cup of rosé. “Unsure. It’s not like I’m going to confront her about this. She’s practically engaged to Will. And now there’s a baby in the picture? A baby who’s very well going to grow up seeing me as Uncle Spencer.”

He sounded exhausted. Y/N touched his hand and squeezed. She understood the pained loneliness that plagued Spencer’s voice. “I don’t love JJ anymore. It’s just, my whole life I felt like I was so far beyond my peers. And now? They all finally have caught up, this time the tables have turned. God, I’m excited when a girl smiles at me, let alone goes on a date with me.”

Weakly, Y/N smiled. She sipped her rose, “So it’s more of feeling like you’re far beyond in life? Despite having two PhDs and like three undergrad degrees? You’re one of the most accomplished men I know, Spencer. And we all move along at our own pace. Don’t compare JJ’s story to yours.”

He nodded, spooning a bite of the double chocolate cheesecake. “It’s just…I’m nearly 32. And now I’m watching JJ and Hotch and Morgan talk about babies and husbands and wives and houses. And I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be lucky enough to get that one day. Sometimes… I think I’m too me for anyone to fall in love with me.”

Y/N felt her heart shatter into a million little pieces as Spencer’s honest confession striked her entire system. She wanted to reach out and push away the stray curl that hooked itself in front of his eyebrow. She wanted to reach out and wipe away his tears. She wanted to tell her friend that if no one married him, she would.

She stalked off the to couch, needing a stable place to sit. Her chocolate cheesecake stuck to the roof of her mouth and the bitter rosé did nothing to remove it.

“Holy shit, Spencer. Do you not realize that you’d make any girl happy? You’ll find her one day, I know it. And if you don’t, we can just say fuck it and get married. I mean, I know it wouldn’t be romantic love, but we could at least live together. Through a big fancy party and get dressed up nice and getting drunk on mojitos with my best friend. My person? Sounds fun.”

“You mean that?” Spencer asked, half in disbelief and half in wonderment. “You mean that we’ll get married if neither of us have someone…say seven years from now?”

She must’ve drank more than she thought as she waited for Gary to ruin their date. “I meant it. But why seven?”

A smile toyed on Spencer lips. She noticed the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“It’s my lucky number.”

Her lips were so loose that it threatened to crack open her heart. She had a nasty habit of wearing that on her sleeve.

She gave Spencer a sheepish look as his eyes met hers. He looked half between incredulous and hopeful. His fingers ran across the rim of his wine glass as the wine sloshed around. It mirrored Y/N’s stomach.

“Is this idea like bad shit crazy?” Y/N asked. “I mean it. I mean, why not. It’s not so different from what we do now. Just all the time. And I’d be thrilled to be spiritually required to spend more time with you.”

“Should we….shake hands or something. I’m not the biggest fan of that, but I think my wife would serve as an exception to the rule. To every rule I’ve got?”

Y/N laughed. She felt the wine creep up a nice, warm flush against her skin. It matched the light and easy way her limbs felt. It might have very well been the wine, but there wasn’t much of anything that could trump laughing with your best friend. Especially when that best friend slipped and called you his wife.

Her feet somehow ended up in Spencer’s lap. His thumb rubbed gently against her ankle, barely touching her bare skin. Yet it sent shockwaves that she didn’t quite understand.

The corners of Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he reciprocated that laugh. They shared it and Y/N had the strangest desire to bottle it up. She wanted to store this moment in her mind and come back to it. One day. Some day.

“We’ll get married,” Spencer started speaking as if it was a prophecy that he could set in stone, “if neither of us has anyone, we’ll enter this rather odd, rather complex, yet completely entirely normal and simple marriage in seven years?” His sweet, yet coy smile was boyish, it only reminded Y/N just how far away 35 was for her.

“Should we draft up a contract?”

“Have your lawyers contact my lawyers. I never sign documents without the proper legal support. In the meantime, could we settle on our first stipulation: never watching a new episode of our current favorite show without the other?”

“I agree to the terms and conditions you’ve set out.” Y/N said. She grabbed the blanket that rested on the back of the couch as Spencer turned off the lamp light.

“Oh and I washed the sheets in your room. I used the detergent you like. And your pajamas. The lavender vanilla one with the scent beads?” He flipped on an episode of The Twilight Zone.

She smiled from the way Spencer naturally called the guest room her bedroom. There was something very domestic and peaceful about him using her favorite detergent to wash the sheets in her room in his apartment. It resembled the exact something that she was craving: being taken care of.

She sipped her rose again, watching as her friend smiled at the gray scale painted on the screen. It was too bad she only had to weight over half a decade to feel it and not feel guilty and like she was lying to herself.

—

Taglist:

@reidsbookclub @boldlyvoid @mrs-dr-reid @reid-ingandweeping @candlesandsoftrain @foxy-eva @queermaxwooo

[acourtofthought]

I don't know if I'm being petty, but I like to think that some of Elain's actions toward Azriel are just foreshadowing for Elucien's dynamic. For example, Lucien is very thoughtful about his choices for Elain's gifts, and Elain is invested in the presents she gives to others, including Azriel, even if it's in the form of a prank. This makes me think that receiving gifts will be one of their main love languages.

The scene where Elain called Azriel's scars beautiful could mean that if Lucien still holds any insecurities regarding his scars, it'd be no problem at all for his mate to help him realize how gorgeous he is, inside and out.

And, most of all, the theme of choice would fit so much better in an Elucien romance. I mean, Azriel isn't the one banned from two courts, prohibited to see his mother, exiled in a strange land, the one who has only two humans (who will die in a few decades compared to a fae immortal life) as his only friends, and he's definitely not the one being ignored by his mate and fearful of her rejection. If there's a character who deserves (plot-wise) to be chosen, it's definitely Lucien.

Besides, it would make so much sense with Elain's and Lucien's characters and with the development of their relationship. The fact that Lucien respects her time and space (or his passivity, as some like to call it) allows Elain to make the choice of pursuing the bond when she feels comfortable and secure enough. She'd also have more agency than her sisters in the beginning of their relationships.

But these are just thoughts.

Thank you for your blog and your theories and thoughts. You make me feel hopeful not only for an Elucien's endgame, but also that they really have the chance to get the next book. You have been a light in the end of this three-years-length tunnel.

P.S. I also have a guess that the announcement will be on May 1st. Hope we are right!

Also, the scene where Elain called Az's scars pretty could actually have been Elain calling his siphons pretty because Feyre wasn't sure what she was looking at.

However, I do agree that Elain is going to find Lucien's face devastatingly handsome and the reason for that kind of ties into her mother. Which sounds weird but I'll try to explain.

Her mother made assumptions about her, that she did not dream beyond her pretty dresses and gardens and that she would marry for love and "beauty". So of course, Elain tried to follow those expectations, getting engaged to exactly who her mother would have imagined for her.

I know Elain loved Graysen and probably found him handsome but he seems cookie cutter. Even Feyre said, he was sort of the human ideal of a lord come to sweep a maiden off her feet.

Lucien's face isn't perfect. He's handsome no doubt but he has long hair (no proper mother would approve of that), a scar running down his face and his eye. He is not the image of a baby faced Lord set to inherit his fathers estate someday. He's cruelly beautiful and looks dangerous and, we're all human here, that's going to thrill the "good girls" which everyone assumes Elain to be. Graysen is the kind of guy you have missionary sex with while the lights are out. Lucien is the kind of guy you are willing to do anything, anywhere with and that's probably a bit overwhelming for Elain given her upbringing. Right now, she's still stuck in the past, how she was raised, the kind of guy her mother proclaimed she would marry rather than embracing what lights her up like a pinball machine but I have no doubt once she does break free she's going to make sure he knows exactly how appealing she finds him because of the scars, the hair, the eye. Because of how it all comes together.

And I agree regarding the gifts! I think we see bits of Elain's personality around members of the IC but she never fully blooms, it's like a quick flash then it's gone. I could see Elain and Lucien teasing one another on regular days, silly gifts, sweet little gifts, but the important days I think will be when they reserve the really thoughtful, heartfelt gifts for.

With choice, I wonder if it's so much about that as fight.

(that sounds weird too but I wasn't sure how to word it).

What I mean by that is Lucien was chosen by Jesminda. He was chosen by Tamlin. He was chosen by many friends of which we're told he has many. He was chosen by the LoA as her favorite son. The problem is nobody fought to keep him.

The same with Elain. She was chosen by Graysen, she was "chosen" by Azriel, she was chosen by the chef and servants who wanted to do nice things for her, she was chosen by her many friends. But, none of them fought for her either. When things got hard they walked away.

Lucien and Elain are parallel in that they're just accepting life as it happens to them, trying to accept that when one door closes (to their dismay) and another opens, they roll with it even if they're not happy. They haven't learned to fight for themselves, possibly because they are used to not being fought for and as a result they try not to ask for much because they realize how expendable they are to others.

But in their book, I think they'll push past that to fight for what they do want and they will fight for one another. Lucien has been doing that so far when it comes to Elain. He is the one person who despite the odds did not walk away from her. Graysen gave up after Elain was turned. Az gave up easily, moved right onto feeling calm because of another female, admiring another female, thinking of another females eyes light up, even though Elain was probably upset after his rejection for the simple fact that any rejection hurts. But Lucien though he hasn't pushed her, has quietly fought for her for two years, by showing that he is still loyal to her and only her. And I imagine we'll also see Elain begin to fight for Lucien. Fighting against those who have wronged him, fighting for him to understand that he's not guilty for Jesminda's death or what happened to Feyre, etc.

Your last paragraph before the P.S. (May 1, May 1!!!) was so incredibly sweet and I wish I had better words to thank you for it.

I hope you have a fantastic day and I appreciate your message!

[wintfleur]

🍂 ͡ ꒱ JULIETTES RELATIONSHIP WITH HER BROTHERS

au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc

𐙚 LORENZO!

Lorenzo . . . ‘Enzo’ is the best big brother, he’s such a role model for her, and she’s always looked up to him.

He’s always been her voice of reason and encouragement, helping her calm down her emotions and not do anything rash, to help her understand what she’s feeling and to listen to what she says and, to always be there to cheer her up and help her out of those dark feelings.

Enzo was the first person she told when she realized she also wanted to kart.

Enzo helped teach her how to drive with there father, Arthur and Charles to scared to get in the car, claiming that she’s ‘going to kill them and drive into a store’ Julie did end up threatening to kill them in a more private and painful way because of all there teasing. Neither of them got in a car with her for months.

Julie gets sister privileges !!!

They have there weekly calls, checking in and making sure everything is good.

Enzo is the best advice giver! And she knows she can talk to him about anything

She loves just curling up in his side.

Just the sweetest big brother ever.

Has have had to pick Julie up at parties when she’s gotten too drunk . . . many times.

They both definitely laugh and tease the other two when they are being dramatic

He loves his little sister very much and will do anything for her!

𐙚 CHARLES!

Out of all her siblings, she’s definitely the closest to Charles, ever since they were kids.

Yes they had their fair share of arguments and fights, but they have always stuck up for each other no matter what, they can only mess with each other . . . no one else!

They’re each other’s safe place, they both understand the pressure they are both under, and they really help each other out.

Charles was the first person Julie told when she realized that she liked girls as well. And he was the one who helped her gain the courage to come out.

Charles is always the first person to defend her, from the media, interviewers, from anyone. He will not have his sister disrespected.

They both absolutely love their family, planning outings and get togethers for all of them!

They see each other the most

They had a tree house! And would always tease Arthur about not being cool enough to come up and hang with them.

He’s the most nosey brother, wanting to know everything going on in her life . . . but he means well !

They have had some moments where their career has put some strain on their relationship, but it doesn’t last long. It’s just because Julie hates talking about her feelings, and Charles loves talking about hers . . . aka avoidance from Julie.

He loves having sleepovers at her homes!

Sassy duo fr!

They are always messing with each other! And the media absolutely loves it.

You know that tiktok sound ‘this is bob, bob loves his personal space. This is Larry, Larry also loves bob’s personal space’ that’s them, bob is Julie and Larry is Charles.

Sees Julie’s soft side the most

𐙚 ARTHUR!

That’s her baby . . . no one messes with her baby (yes she’s only a year older . . . but still, he’s her baby)

Julie is Arthur’s favorite sibling and he’s very open about it, Arthur was quite the emotional kid and despite his outburst or over reactions, Julie was always there for him, to help him out, calm him down and, to let him know that he’s not crazy about his feelings

Julie has always been there for Arthur to listen to his worry’s about driving and what his future is in the sport, he trusts her opinion and thoughts more than anyone else.

Arthur hates how every single one of his friends are in love with Julie, and Julie just loves teasing him about it, always giving them a sweet smile and wave.

Arthur is quite clingy towards Julie, physically and emotionally.

Always wanting to sit next to her, get her attention, all of it. I mean, she’s the cool older sister.

He loves practicing his English with her!

He’s also like her biggest fan

He can get a little petty and upset if things don’t go his way with her . . . aka he’s super dramatic.

Arthur loves all of her cooking and baking, like he could eat it all.

First time he got really drunk, he called up Julie and cried, only crying harder when she giggled and tried to reassure him.

He’s always the last one to warm up to Julie’s significant others.

They love watching movies!

Arthur is quite attached to julie, has a fear that she will leave them.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( this is pretty short, but I hope it gives you a good idea of Julie’s relationship with her brothers !! She’s a family woman definitely !! Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist )

°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @theopenlocker @lavisenri @callsignwidow )

[babyangelsky]

Color Moments in Two Worlds Episode 7

I don't know what the hell happened to the subs this week but the colors were coloring and the plot was plotting and that is all that matters!

Last week we got to see the love story between Tai and his Kram and as I suspected, current Kram has now acquired all those memories, as well as the knowledge of what happened to his parents in this world.

It's all too much, so he takes his painting of Tai with him and appears to be fully prepared to go with Phupha to Bangkok, but I don't fool that easily. Because as he's in his depressed earth tones, he's flanked by his warmth.

And once he unfurls the painting and reads the writing on the back, he gets his head on straight, the last of his uncertainty fades away, and he finally realizes his feelings!

He runs back to his true love Tai and after a beautiful mutual confession, they snuggle on their warm and cool couch.

After sleeping attached to Tai like a baby koala all night, the next morning Kram is back in his warm yellow.

And Tai is back in his cool blue.

Unfortunately, this moment of domestic bliss is interrupted by a wounded Wayu who tells them that Phupha has been kidnapped. But once again, I can't be fooled! Because even though Phupha and his also kidnapped dad were in dire straits, Phupha was bathed in Tai's blue and Kram's yellow so I knew rescue was coming.

We finally learn that Phupha's aunt is the one who's been out to get him this whole time. She knows that he is not his father Adisak's biological son and believes that she, as Adisak's sister, deserves to be her brother's successor instead.

As Phupha and his dad are waiting for rescue, Phupha asks how long his dad has known that they aren't related. Adisak tells him that Phupha's mother wrote him a confession letter before she took her own life when Phupha was seven years old.

His mother was in a relationship with Wiroj, Phupha's biological father. Wiroj, a closeted gay man, couldn't return her affections despite her best efforts to please him and match his white. He tells her that he's in love with Adisak, which ends the relationship.

But when Wiroj gathers the courage to finally go and confess to Adisak, he finds Phupha's mother has entered into a relationship with him. Together in matching blue, they tell Wiroj that they're expecting a child.

*pauses to cry on the floor for a little bit because Wiroj never got to tell Adisak that he loved him and Adisak loved and raised the child of the man who loved him as his own everything is fine I'm fine*

@respectthepetty Sadly, Jao and Wayu still haven't made out. They also didn't match this week but we kinda forgive them because Jao is still letting go of his feelings for Tai and Wayu had a brush with death. BUT THEY BETTER MAKE OUT NEXT WEEK! YOU HEAR ME, SHOW?!

On the plus side, the lighting is making it look like Kram is in his yellow and Tai's blue.

Tai rescues Phupha as I knew he would and he keeps his promise to return to Kram as I knew he would. He asks Kram to do the ash exchange with him and even though he tells Kram to take his time and think about his answer, we all know what that answer is going to be.

Because Kram is in Tai's blue and the stitching on his lapel, the patch on his sleeve, and his necklace all match Tai's red!

Despite whatever madness comes our way next, COLOR CODED MATCHING BOYS IN LOVE GET HAPPY ENDINGS!

[nadvs]

okay i’m on my period and ive been listening to fourth of july by sufjan stevens on REPEATTT😭 it’s inspired a fic idea that i think u would absolutely nail !!!!

sad ofc but rafe’s ex (moved out of the obx) gets news that he’s passed away. it’s centred around her going home, going thru the motions of how jarring it is that someone as big and powerful and stoic as rafe is just….gone. not there anymore. the lyrics of the song are great inspo ofc, but yeah just a huge ball of heartache and emotional despair!

if u wanted to lighten things up a pt2 could be like rafe faked his death vibes, angst and reunion and love and ahhhh!

၊၊||၊၊||၊၊ fourth of july / sufjan stevens

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

content warning death, drug abuse

When you saw the post on social media, you thought it was a sick joke.

But then you read the comments, full of canned condolences and useless prayers, and your refusal to accept the news crumbled with every typed word until you couldn’t possibly deny it any longer.

Someone commented asking how. Someone else replied overdose.

Sorrow and loss and shock and nausea swirled through you. You paced around your bedroom, chest heaving, glancing at the door as if someone was coming to pull you out of the nightmare.

Eventually, you found the strength to text Sarah. You still had her number even though you broke things off with Rafe three months ago.

She gave you the details for the funeral that Saturday.

It’s a hot, sunny afternoon when you make it to Kildare Island. It’s wrong that the world is still spinning, boasting beautiful weather on a gruesome day.

You think bitterly about how people are surely enjoying the sun today, all while the man you still love is being buried.

When Sarah sees you at the church, she gives you a mournful, forced smile. You hug her, your eyes swollen and red and aching, your throat burning as you tell her I’m sorry and are you okay?

You’re not sure if Rafe told her about why you broke up.

— and i’m sorry i left, but it was for the best though it never felt right

He hated that you wanted to move to another state for a job opportunity. He didn’t understand why you didn’t want to stay, why he couldn’t just take care of you.

You told him this was for the best and he’d find a girl who’d make him happy. He told you that was bullshit.

You doubt Sarah knows. He never spoke much to his sister unless he was fighting with her, so she likely has no idea why you ended an otherwise happy relationship.

There’s a large photo of him sitting on an easel at the front. You’re surprised they found a picture of him smiling.

It’s grainy and clearly zoomed in, likely from a group photo. He always had a great smile. He hardly showed it.

The lights hit the photographed blue of his eyes dully. Nothing like how he looked when he was alive. Even beneath the anger and bitterness Rafe carried around, he had a brightness in his eyes reserved solely for you.

You watched it fade the day you left him.

— make the most of your life, while it is rife, while it is light

When you see the coffin resting above the plot in the cemetery, you think you might be sick.

You knew Rafe liked coke. You feel naive now that you didn’t realize it was a problem. He just did it at parties when you were dating. At least, you thought he did.

Maybe you could have prevented this.

You remember the way his arm was wrapped around your waist at one of the last beach house parties you attended together. It was when you were still considering the job offer, knowing deep down you were going to take it.

He smelled like cologne and sweat and Rafe, his cheek against yours as he spoke over the loud music.

“You can’t move,” he said, chuckling and high out of his mind. “Look how much fun we’re having, baby.”

“I’d have more fun if we left,” you told him. He scoffed. But then he led you out of the party, down to the beach, hugging you from behind, kissing your neck as you sat in the sand.

“How’s this?” Rafe murmured. He earned laughs from you, his lips on your neck. “Fun?”

“Yeah,” you replied sincerely.

But you still left.

You can hardly listen to the sermon, but one part reverberates through you like it’s being screamed into your ears. We don’t face this life or death without promises.

There was a time when you and Rafe lived in a promise together. But now you just live, and he doesn’t.

Sarah finds you as you’re opening your car door to leave. She tells you it would feel wrong not to show you. They went through his phone. There are messages he sent to you that remain undelivered.

You blocked him after the break-up. You thought it was the right thing to do, but deep down, it felt more wrong than anything.

Your hand trembles as you hold the phone up to your face. It’s jarring, touching something that big, strong, abrasive, loud Rafe owned and used every day, and now he’s buried yards away from you, nothing but coldness and weakness and stillness. He owns nothing now.

Sharp spikes dig into your heart when you see that he sent you a string of texts the night he died.

i can’t stop thinking about you

i love you and i can make you love me again

come back

or i’ll come to you

please try one more time with me

“Thanks,” you tell Sarah, handing back the phone, when in reality, no part of you feels grateful upon seeing words he tried to say to you but couldn’t. You would have been better off not knowing.

You leave a part of yourself in that cemetery. It died with him. Because Rafe always said you were the only one who loved him and he left this earth thinking you didn’t anymore.

[tipsyleaf]

The relationship between Violet and her mother since she’s an angsty teen now I feel would just worsen a little when she found out she was having a little brother. They were probably so close when she was little. It was already a little rocky (what teen girl didn’t have a rough patch with their mom at that age. Ik I did) but the addition of a new baby just means less attention for her. She was probably too young to process it when Cecilia was born cause she was little but being a teen and the idea of having a new baby must be rough. Especially as the months pass on and her mom tries to bridge the gap between them before he’s born, only thankfully it was fixed after he entered the world :)

(Oh it be so sweet conversation though. I can only imagine the moment they finally talk it out.)

It's late at night. You can't fall back asleep after waking up for Scottie's 2am feeding and you're down in the living room, watching TV in the dark. Violet comes out of her room to get water and sees her mother awake on the couch. She just walks past with her water bottle not saying anything at all and grabs water from the fridge. Moving to go back to her room you finally say something.

"Not even gonna say hi?" Violet stops as she's about to step into the hallway, looking over her shoulder and nods.

"Hi..."

"You wanna sit with me for a few minutes?" Violet nods again, walking over and sitting at the other end of the couch. This is the farthest she's ever been from you in a long time. The air is thick and tense as you both watch whatever you have on.

"You okay?" Violet takes a sip of her water, nodding again, but she won't look at you.

The silence fills the room again, making the TV way too loud to you as you start thinking.

"This reminds me of when you were 3..." You smile, finally getting her attention to look at you.

"You got so mad at your father for giving me kisses first before you when he got back from a work trip and you refused to talk to him for 2 hours."

"I don't remember that." She moves closer, curling up into your side. You put your arm around her and kiss the top of her head. Smelling her lavender scent with an even bigger smile.

"Of course you don't, you were too little... Are you mad at me?" Violet tenses up under your touch. You look down lifting her face up, her eyes meeting yours. Slightly damp.

"Not mad just... Left out." The realization hits you. Ever since the baby was born you'd been so preoccupied making sure Cecilia knew you still loved her and take care of Scott... You forgot that your oldest still needed reassurance, even at her age.

"Aw, sweet pea... I'm sorry." You hug her tightly, rubbing her back as she hugs you for dear life.

"It's okay."

"No it's not. You deserve time with me... I know you sure as hell need a break from your father... He's so far up your ass he could tell you what your insides look like." She chuckles, smiling for the first time in a while as you kiss her forehead.

"Can we spend time together?"

"Of course honey! If you want to spend time with me or ever just need me we please tell me. I grew up with grandma and I'm thankful for her but she smothered me... So I thought giving you space was the right idea. I guess I gave you too much."

You sit back, continuing to rub her back as she relaxes into your side, thinking about anything and everything you could do together.

"Okay... How about instead of you doing daddy daughter day with your sister you come out with me? You always look so miserable when you come home from those."

"Ah... We always do such... Kiddie stuff. It's boring but I just can't tell Dad."

"Well, we can do more adult stuff together... Like, get a Mani Pedi... Go shopping, eat and maybe a movie? Would you like that?"

"I'd like that a lot actually... Thanks."

"Of course baby. Anything for you." You hug her tight again, squeezing her to you as she groans.

"Mommy please, I can't breathe." You let her go, smiling and holding her at arms length.

"Did you just call me Mommy?!" She looks embarrassed for a moment.

"Felt right... Just don't tell Dad or neither of us will hear the end of it."

[ruddyhotelau]

What would be everyone’s reactions be when Emilute finally happens?

Since EmiLute will come out canon quite late, it will probably be in SS3 or even later and by then most of the people in the hotel will have changed for the better and treated each other like a group of close friends.

Some of them even bet on who will confess first (Val, Vel, Anthony, Cherri). As usual, Val will be the one to ask "Sooooooooo... Who tops?" and Lute immediately pointed the sword at his neck, threatening Val to shut up.

Anthony and Cherri would hug Emily tightly. Anthony will also whisper in Emily's ear some advice for the "first night" making Emily's face turn red. And just like Val, Lute also pointed her sword at him with an angry expression.

Vox is not very interested in Emily and Lute's love story but will still congratulate the two as a business partner and a "friend".

Michael did not object to their love and also agreed to their relationship, but still did not forget to warn Lute not to hurt his niece, causing Lute to tremble a bit but she quickly regained her posture and looked straight into Michael's eyes, declaring that she will protect Emily no matter what. Only then did Michael show a satisfied smile.

Sera is also happy for her sister because she has found the right person. She also believes that Emily is mature enough to make the right decisions about her love life, that the person Emily has chosen will be the right one for her. She calmly asked Lute to take good care of her sister and Lute agreed without hesitation.

[thegreenleavesofspring]

When I say it is more effective to pray for someone than bludgeon them over the head with you are wrong what I mean is this:

Almost my entire life - perhaps not during my very early childhood, I don't remember; there was a catastrophe when I was twelve that changed everything - my mother has been in rebellion against God, if not full-on apostasy.

I grew up listening to her rail and scream at God, accuse Him. Listened to her say that she knew better than He did. Accuse Him of creating evil and being a cruel God. Just - all sorts of things. I remember perhaps twice that she ever apologized for anything when I was growing up, and one of those was with a caveat. She simply did not believe she was wrong about anything, ever.

Both of my sisters have told her to her face "You are not a Christian" and cut her off entirely. When I say that I am the only person left in the world who will speak with my mother outside of a business setting, I am not exaggerating in the slightest. (Save, perhaps, with the exception of my eldest son, who likes her visits quite a bit.)

I did not bite my tongue at all as a teenager. Since I have been an adult, most of my relationship with my mother has been biting my tongue. She is one of those people whom one wrong word will set off a chain reaction that there's no coming back from. So I stayed beside her and I bit my tongue and I prayed.

I prayed. I commended her into God's hands and acknowledged her glaringly obvious faults to Him and I prayed, I prayed for her. I pray for her now. Constantly, unceasingly, every minute I am awake, supplication for her, worded or wordless.

Y'all.

Another catastrophe has arisen. Any day now, she will be homeless, carless, old and feeble and struggling just to survive. And yet.

Of late, I stopped biting my tongue as much. I started urging her to pray. I know you don't feel like you can, I know you feel dirty, I know you're still in rebellion and feel abandoned. You need to pray. You need to pray. Just start. However. Just start praying. You need to pray.

She started praying. She spent days praying. She started reading her Bible and her devotionals. She told me she spent hours on the floor praying and sobbing until she felt empty.

She's begun filling up again. She's begun admitting culpabilities that I never thought to hear from her: culpabilities that I had long recognized and thought and disapproved of, but knew it would be worthless to say so. She admits them freely and openly. She has gone from permanent vituperation to peace. She has given up sins she has held close since before I was born.

She told me, today, about the devotional: the passage on the Good Shepherd leaving the 99 and going after the 1. And how, when He returned, He bid all His friends come and rejoice with Him.

Oh, I have been rejoicing. I have been rejoicing over her for these past couple weeks.

She is still terrified, and depressed. What is looming is terrible indeed. Neither of us is at all certain that she will survive until this time next year, but if she does not, I will have no fear: I will see her again, one day. I am certain of it.

So when I say it is better to pray for those who are astray than to belabor them with accusative "You are not a Christian", I mean it.

(And personally I think that someone with an unclear understanding of Jesus but who still acknowledges Him as the Way the Truth and the Life, is probably 'closer' to being a 'real Christian' than someone in full rebellion. But maybe that's just me.)

[xoxotlou]

there’s something so special about seeing yourself in a character- i truly resonate so deeply with ellie for so many reasons and i thought i would just talk about that for a bit because i think it’s really cool 🫶

-her relationship with joel mirrors that of me and my dad, the first time he called ellie “babygirl” i cried because that’s what my dad used to call me. my dad had pretty bad anger issues that passed onto me, and he was so hard on me my whole childhood. but the only thing he hated more than me messing up, was someone else hurting me. he always got himself into bad situations to protect me, and would do anything to protect me. he would lie like crazy to keep me in the dark and away from the atrocities of the world, just like joel did.

-her relationship with dina struck me too, the way she loved her so deeply. ellie goes all in when it comes to emotions ive noticed, much like i do. she would do anything to protect dina, including leaving her. the scene where dina tells ellie shes pregnant hit me so hard, because she cares so much about dina and yet she gets angry and hostile because she’s so upset.

-this is a bit of a jump- but the way she wanted her immunity to mean something. i have a lot of times in my life where i will go through hell to get something, and if it doesn’t end up working out i feel useless. i always have to be the bigger person and help others; much like how ellie wanted to make a cure, even if it would kill her

- her journaling- i’ve been doing it for years and it’s so important to me to have pieces of myself and my life physically on paper

-her love for pus-

-i look a lot like her which was cool to see, we have a lot of the same features and the exact same face shape and nose so i love cosplaying her :)

-her violent tendencies, i was put in sports at a very young age and it was my whole world- but oh my god i was intense about it- i got into so many fights as a kid too, usually to protect my friends and myself(im not like this anymore dw!!! bad childhood phase-)

-the way she interacts with jj reminds me of when my sister was born :(((

-her half up bun hairstyle is literally my signature!!!

-her nerdy ass is so funny to me- i’m also obsessed with comics, dinosaurs and space

-

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[attackoneyebrows]

you know i didn't have a choice.

[forestgreenlesbian]

.

[birgittesilverbae]

strategist!beatrice admitting she's at a loss for how to proceed

[my-beloved-lakes]

I see a lot of people I knew from school posting pictures on their social medias with all their friends doing various fun things together. Meanwhile, I'm sitting at home wishing I could take a group photo with all my Tumblr mutuals to post so I can brag about having the best friends.

[summers0n]

i refuse to support anything with beatrice attempting to move on from ava via new girlfriends, one night stands, casual dating, etc etc - no matter how well it’s written/drawn/portrayed - whatever (even if it’s made clear ava is the only one for Beatrice and that she’s just rebounding/trying to live her life like ava would have wanted).

And that is a personal choice