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#exactly cause my aunt is always there and I fucking hate her
yoohyeon · 1 year
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I’M NOT SEEING MY AUNT ON CHRISTMAS !!! 🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌🙌
#i was litterally loosing sleep over this bitch#she has covid and so is her son and she may have give it to my grandma before she tested positive#so does*#so they cancelled the day 😌#i mean I’m honestly really sad that I can see my grand mother cause I haven’t seen her in a year and half#exactly cause my aunt is always there and I fucking hate her#my dad said we are suppose to go on the first instead so I’m still not save for this goddamn meeting but at least I’m safe for another week😭#i wished my grandma was okay so we spent the day with her and not my aunt and I don’t have to see her again but yeah whatever I guess 😔#also my grandma already had covid once so I’m sure she’s gonna be okay I’m not so worried at least#i felt sick all week just to imagine myself there in the same room as her#her being all happy and act like she such a great person that never did anything wrong just cause my dad talk to her again#and my dad only talk to her cause their parents were sick most of this year and my grandpa sadly passed away#he would talk to her if it wasn’t the case#i was so mad the other day when my dad told me he buy her gifts for Christmas too cause she did so much for grandpa when he died#my dad did a lot too like maybe she helped but does he remember how disgusting she been all this year especially to me#at least my fave holiday is safe for now I don’t care about new year I’m already traumatized by the first and second of January cause of her#wether she’s there or not she already ruined for me 3 years ago#thé 31st is what is important to me cause I’m having fun with people that actually like me unlike her#I wish my dad and my grandma realized how she hurt me and how much seeing her again hurts me to the point I’m not even visiting my grandma#but they never will and will think I’m exaggerating….#I don’t get how Christmas always been my fave holiday and now I feel nothing so many people ruined it for me#I’m so goddamn sad#at least I’ll see my brother and we gonna have fun like the last 2 Christmas :(#and I’m seeing my fave family members on the 25th on my mom side well some of them#and I’m so damn sad I don’t see half of them but better than nothing I guess 🙃#last I’m sorry for not coming for days and get depress HFJDBDJD#i Needed to get this out of my chest and I’m tired to talk about that to my bestie she heard it enough :’)))#alex.txt#tw death mention
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dredshirtroberts · 2 months
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listen. I know my family is bad at communication and acknowledgement of receipt of Thing but when the one thing that consistently happens semi-annually is that I get fussed at for not confirming I received something, it irks me a smidge.
Like if I'm expected to always confirm "Hey I got your [communication/gift]" then why aren't they doing it back? Especially considering the communication in this instance has really actually very important information they will want to know if they want to stay in contact with me.
Like????
Even if I'd just gotten a "K" in response, like. at least it would have let me know they got the damn thing. I sent this email TWO WEEKS AGO and only one person responded - and it was practically immediate too. Like... i know folks are busy, i know shit's going on. I get it. But it would help me feel so much less like I'm suddenly a pariah in the family out of nowhere if like one of the people I'd sent this to had just responded in some way shape or form.
I'd have answered a phone call - i wouldn't have liked it, but i'd have done it. A letter in the mail to my current address even. a message in a bottle probably wouldn't get to me because i'm pretty far from the beaches of the great lakes, and also they're even farther, but like. something right?
my sister at least confirmed she got it and just forgot to respond. i imagine that's what happened with everyone else because we have the same mental illnesses and look. i do it too. but also? also?? i was hounded to respond quickly to things, i was told off every time i wasn't responding within a half hour of any communication. I was asked instantly the next time they saw me if I'd gotten it, even if i hadn't had a chance to see the thing yet.
So forgive me, family, if I'm a little peeved off that all y'all are allowed to "forget to respond" for two whole fucking weeks and then a few extra days (because it's been 2 weeks, 3 days exactly) when i can't let something sit in the mailbox for 2 days because i couldn't get to my mailbox easily while living on my own without getting a phone call or text or email that there should be something waiting in there for me.
*enraged screeching*
#literally the deadline i gave them for my address change was Monday#technically they have until the 8th but i didn't give them that room because i feared they'd use it#and my birthday is this upcoming week and like. idk i was kind of looking forward to maybe getting a card or two perhaps that's silly of me#to look forward to receiving specifically birthday correspondence for my birthday idk man#like i don't have a lot of space to judge i'm also really bad at keeping up lines of communication but when someone sends you#an update with a deadline about when they're moving and to where exactly#and also a big update on a health issue that like. they've mentioned MULTIPLE times#it's generally considered courteous to at least SAY YOU RECEIVED THE MESSAGE even if you didn't have a chance to read the whole thing yet#like????????#angry i am so angry#like yay my sister responded to the text IT TOOK 2 WEEKS AND ME POKING HER ABOUT IT#again i know. i know people are busy and have other things going on#why did *I* have to be the one who came up with work arounds and ways to avoid doing this to other people when no one else does it for me?#why was *I* the one always getting fussed at and told off and lectured about how rude i was for not getting back to people in a timelymanne#but it's fine for them to IGNORE ME FOR 2 FUCKING WEEKS#like fuck *off* with that bullshit i'm so fucking.........#i mean it. about the others. if my grandparents i sent this to and my other aunt don't respond they don't get any more updates on me#i don't tell them when i move next or where i've gone. if i change my phone number again they don't get it.#like. if you're not going to do me the courtesy of saying ''i got your message you sent''#AFTER I'VE SENT A FOLLOW UP TWO WEEKS LATER#then you don't get to stay in touch because you clearly do not care about it.#....i already feel like i'm extremely unwantable and like no one will ever desire to stick with me long term#having the family members i spent the majority of my life being around not respond to me does not help that#the SINGULAR person in a whole list of recipients who responded quickly (and also thoroughly but that was *wholly* unexpected)#was someone I barely got a chance to know when I was young because of weird family drama I don't care about#because it doesn't fucking matter y'all are adults now act like it#like. the most supportive member of my family is a woman i thought disliked me on principle because i was my father's child#and it turns out no it's my dad who's the fucked up one who judged her children just because they were hers#cause he hates his sister for some fucking reason.#when she's genuinely the nicest and kindest person i've ever met in my whole family like???
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fadingsnow · 9 months
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POISON - lord velaryon! aged up! LUCERYS VELARYON x f! reader (SHORT)
SUMMARY AND TW: Reader is Jacaerys' daughter and heir. A lot of hate towards Rhaena.. sorry lmao TW: nsfw (fingering).. i need him so bad, Divider Credits: @firefly-graphics
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His hoarse voice rang out against the walls of his and his wife's chambers, rough hands grabbing your thighs eagerly as you found a good place to sit, his lap.
"If only I would be rid of this farce marriage, tala- (niece)."
Your constant efforts to entice him more were starting to get to him, only a few moons ago, had you finally captured him in your grasp, or rather he had.
"Rhaena is a good woman, but not the one that I want." His eyes fluttered slowly, almost falling into a sleeplike look.
"Then, who might it be, Kepus? (Uncle)" You murmured in his ear, putting small kisses under it, knowing how it would make him even more reactable.
"I heard Lady Lannister has been a little eager now to take Rhaena's place, even said she wouldn't mind being your little whore."
"I already have someone in that place, don't I? My sweet niece, my little cock drunk whore. Don't even need to pay you four coppers to get you down on your knees, praising your Kepus (Uncle)."
You let out a small gasp at the carelessness of his words. It certainly had your thighs wrapping harder around his waist, and the throbbing inbetween them harder to ignore.
"I wonder if I placed my fingers in that tight cunt of yours that always seems so enticing, how easy it will be to make you come all over my hand. How about this? For each time, you cum without me letting you, each time I fuck my wife."
He lazily grinned at you, his curls falling to the side of his face. He knew Rhaena was a sore spot for you, you were always jealous at the mention of her, if only you were be able to be called lady Velaryon.
You narrowed your eyes at him waringly, your movements stopping slowly at his words. You and Lucerys usually played around, except you always were reluctant to even speak Rhaena's name during your.. visits. It felt rather disrespectful since she was still your aunt due to your mother being Baela, but you couldn't help but feel vigor from Lucerys fucking you instead of her. And well, you didn't exactly want him to actually proceed with his marital duties towards her, so you let what he said pass your mind.
"Perhaps. Only if you are able to do it, a person might believe with the way you're groaning against my neck, you might release your seed immediately." You smiled at him sweetly, your words the complete opposite from how you looked at him.
Lucerys' hand slowly pulls up your skirt, as his other hand travels to your thighs, trying to look for a piece of clothing, but then his eyes look up back to yours, surprise clouded his features. His lips pursed together, before he asked you.
"You came to me, bare naked?" His voice came out teasing, biting his lower lip.
"Well.." Your voice trailed off, a little embarrassed at your action. You weren't exactly sure why you had dressed in such way, you usually liked it when he took off your smallclothes, his teeth grazing against your thigh as he slid them off, then going to press his tongue against your cunt, making you moan too loudly.
"No need to be nervous, tala (Niece). It is only us in this room." His grip on your thighs tightened, his hips bucking a little against you. "After all, we are the only people that ever entered here, right?"
You could hardly breathe, as warm breath hitched in your throat. As your legs wrapped around his hips once again, you closed your eyes, trying to focus solely on him. When you opened them again, you found his eyes looking right into yours, a soft smile gracing his features.
His fingers slipped inside your entrance, making you arch your hips upwards, your arms hanging limply by your sides. The feeling of being penetrated completely by another made you shiver with excitement. His fingers worked their magic, rubbing against your clit, causing you to cry out in pleasure, his thumb pressing against your nub.
He kept his gaze focused on you, watching as you writhed beneath him. Slowly, he moved his fingers within you, the friction causing you to whimper, unable to stop yourself from doing so. You bit your lip, as his tongue dipped down, licking his way up towards your breast, kissing softly on its peak.
You let out an unsteady giggle as he continued to rub against your nub, his eyes closing close, a smile appearing on his lips as his fingers kept circling your wet core.
His other hand grabbed at the upper part of your dress which confined your breats, which he tugged and let loose. His eyes were blown wide at the sight of your breats, his mind already knowing what to do. Your breathing increased, your nails digging harshly into his shoulder blades as he started sucking on your nipples. You could barely hold back your moans, your inner walls squeezing tightly around his finger tips, and it seemed like you lost all control of the situation when he grabbed onto your leg, dragging it closer to him.
"Please, Lucerys, just let me-"
"Didn't know my little princess wanted me to give Rhaena my heir so bad?"
You gripped his hair tighter as his hand slid between your folds, his fingers finding purchase against your folds. You cried out louder as your walls squeezed and pushed against his digits, his fingers pushing against your walls gently at first, before increasing the pace and increasing the pressure of his fingers. His thumb pressed against your sensitive opening, which made you squirm and gasp loudly. It also brought tears to his eyes at the sound of your cries. He licked your nipple quickly, sucking it hard into his mouth.
Your breath became heavier, your body quivering against his touch, begging for more. He kept his pace slow, wanting you to catch up, wanting you to become overwhelmed, yet wanting you to climax soon. As soon as your orgasm began to build, your hands dug into his shoulders, pulling on his hair lightly, moaning louder than ever before. His fingers curled into your walls, pushing inside deeper as you released your scream, your head tossing backwards. His fingers pumped furiously, filling you up completely and leaving you trembling, your eyes rolling backwards as the final shudder wracked through you. His mouth remained glued to your breasts, his head hung low as you panted heavily, your legs weak at the knees. He kept his hold on your legs, bringing one of them around his waist, keeping it there for a moment until you managed to stand upright with a grunt. Once you did, he wrapped both of his arms around your torso, holding you close as you sat on his lap panting.
"If it gives you any reassurance, tala (Niece), you are much better then Rhaena." He brought his fingers to his mouth, slowly sucking on the white substance that was still currently dripping out of you. He directly looked at you, licking his fingers with no shame.
"Sweeter then her too."
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holylulusworld · 10 months
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Nrfth (10) - Past pain
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Summary: Betrayal cuts deep. If your heart and trust get damaged. Can you find a way back?
Pairing: Chris Evans x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, mentions of past heartbreak/shitty behavior/break-ups, groveling, angry reader, arguments, adorable Lilly Anne
A/N: Bunny is the nickname for the reader’s daughter.
No rest for the heartbroken masterlist
<< Part 9
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“Mommy, look! I got ice cream with Captain America's colors,” your daughter grins from ear to ear. Her obsession with your former lover’s role always makes your heart throb. If only she knew in reality he’s not the hero she believes he is. “Mr. Chris bought it for me.”
“Of course, he did,” you can’t keep the bitterness out of your voice. “How about you eat it slowly, Bunny.” You softly say as your daughter shovels the ice cream in her mouth. “We don’t want you to choke on it.”
“It tastes great,” she excitedly says. “It got sprinkles on it!” You try to remain calm, and not show your true emotions. How you’d love to punch Chris’s face while he dares to sit next to your daughter, acting like he’s the charming boy next door.
“She wanted me to buy it,” Chris sheepishly says. “I asked her which sort she wants to eat. Lilly Ann politely asked me to buy this one. She loved the colors. Don’t you want to eat something too?”
“YAY MOMMY! Eat some ice cream. It tastes so good,” your daughter grins at Chris. “Right, Mr. Chris. You’ll buy mommy ice cream too..” She batts her eyelashes and give Chris her sweetest smile. “He’s a nice man.”
If only your daughter knew what kind of man Chris really is. A heartbreaker. Someone letting you down when you are vulnerable.
“Right,” you force a smile on your face to not give away that you hate Chris for what he had done to you, your daughter, and your career. “Bunny, eat up. Aunt Tracey is waiting for you. I got something important to talk about with Mr. Chris.”
“OH! Do you want to invite him to my birthday?” She gasps audibly. “Mr. Chris, will you bring your shield? Please? Everyone will be so jealous if you bring it.” Lilly Anne grabs Chris’s wrist, tugging at it. “You will come to my birthday party, right?”
“I-I’d love to. I need to talk to your mommy first, okay? I got a busy schedule and—” he licks his lips. Chris doesn’t want to overstep. Even though, he’d do anything to come to his daughter’s birthday party and play her hero. “I will try to come.”
“Did you hear? Captain America comes to my birthday party Mommy,” your daughter wiggles on her seat. She can’t wait to tell all her friends that her hero will come to her party. “I bet Aunt Tracey will like him too.”
You choke on the air. Tracey will not like having Chris around. She will kill him without batting an eyelash. Your best friend moved heaven and hell to support you. Even when she’s married now, Tracey is a constant in your life you don’t want to miss.
“Lilly Anne, please eat up. We need to head home,” you whisper as you run your hand over her head. She nods but sighs deeply.
“Can I see the doggo again? He’s so cute and friendly,” she sniffs. Your child loves pets, especially dogs and cats. “Please, Mr. Chris. Can you bring him to my birthday party? He’ll get a treat too.”
“We will see, Lilly Anne.” Chris tries not to hold his hopes high. He knows that he fucked big time and broke your heart. There is no coming back from the pain he caused. He can only hope that you find a way to forgive him, or at least give him the chance to get to know his daughter…”
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“I will castrate him!” Tracey balls her hands into fists. “He had the guts to tell you that someone extorted him?” She snorts. “Like hell. That asshole never tried to contact you.”
“I burned down all the bridges when I left the States.” You groan as you try to find an excuse for Chris’s behavior. “No. If he wanted to find me, he would’ve found a way.”
“Exactly, babe. Don’t let that bastard get under your skin.” She clicks her tongue. “What if I come with you?” Tracey offers. “We could ask Michelle to keep an eye on our little angel while I give that goddamn liar hell.”
“I don’t want to start a fight or think about the past. I need to…” You shrug. “Michelle was right. I need clarity. I will listen to him and say my goodbyes.”
“Babe,” Tracey searches your face, “don’t get weak for him. We both know he’s nothing but a lying piece of shit.”
“I-“You know Tracey is right. Chris broke your heart and ruined your career. But you loved him with all your heart. A huge part of him is still in your life. In the form of your daughter. “I need to give him the chance to explain things to me. What he did was fucked up, but he gave me something I never would’ve dared to dream of.”
“Lilly Anne.” Tracey lowers her voice. She doesn’t want to wake your daughter. “Fine. Let me take care of the little bug while you give that bastard hell for me.”
She grins. “I love you too, babe.”
“I know.”
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“Talk,” you snap at Chris. There is no reason to be friendly around him now. Lilly Anne is not around, so you can be as angry and loud as you want to. “No. Wait. Let me say my part first.”
“Y/N, please hear me out. I know you don’t owe me anything but give me the chance to explain what happened back then.”
“Damn right,” you are in his face. “I owe you shit, Chris. No one would give you the chance to explain your side of the story after what you did to me. You ruined me in any way!”
All damn breaks. You push against his shoulders. “Y/N.”
“No! You won’t say a damn thing! It’s my turn,” you yell, making Chris flinch. “I was in love with you! In love!” You wrinkle your nose to push the tears away. The last thing you want is to cry in front of him. “You fucked me, and then you go and tell me about some other woman.”
“Baby, I-“You slap his cheek this time. Hard enough to leave an angry handprint.
“Shut up!” You point your index finger at him. “And then, I thought that you couldn’t act shittier, you go and ruin my career too. I tried to act professional and filmed the last scenes only for you to kick me out of the show.”
“I told you that it wasn’t my intention-“ he raises his hands in surrender when you glare at him. “Please let me explain.”
“Fuck you!” You cry. “Fuck you! Fuck you! I felt like a freight train hit me. You left me there on the ground, bleeding and crying.”
“Y/N,” he tries again but you push him away the moment he tries to touch you. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t!” You sneer. “Sorry doesn’t fix shit! Because of your selfishness, I raised our daughter alone. She asks me about you all the time, and I lie. I lie because I can’t tell her that you give a shit about her mother.”
“That’s not true! I would’ve explained everything to you, but you were gone,” Chris chokes out. “No one knew where you moved to.”
“Right.” You huff. “If you care about a person, you find a way to contact them. You simply didn’t care about me. I was just a warm body you used for some time until you moved on to the next.”
“I loved you too!” Chris yells now. “I tried to protect you! I know it was the worst way to do so but I did it to save your reputation.”
“And yours!” You snap at him. “Don’t act as if you didn’t try to save your squeaky-clean image, Chris. This was all about protecting yourself, not me. Do you honestly believe an apology will make up for what you did to me? You not only broke my heart but ruined my career too. I had to start anew while being pregnant of the man breaking my heart.”
“I know.” He lightly shrugs his shoulders and sniffles. “I fucked up big time. Maybe I was scared to ruin my career and reputation too. I chose the easy way out. I knew you would’ve given a shit if that woman leaks nudes of you and me. But I…”
“You didn’t want to risk that I’ll choose the hard way,” you conclude. “So, you sacrificed our love and my career to save your cowardly ass.”
“I guess…”
As you stare at him, all the anger you pushed down for so many years still runs through your veins. “I hate you!”
You’re trembling with anger. “I know, and you have all the right to hate me. Maybe you should hit me again or run me over with your car. It’s just…”
“No-“ you cut him off. “I won’t let you into my daughter’s life. You will only abandon her for your career. I let you hurt me, but I will not get my baby girl hurt because I’m too weak to protect her.”
“I swear, this will never happen. Please, let me at least come to her party. I promise to play by your rules. Just…” He sniffs as tears roll down his cheeks. You’re not sure if he’s playing yet another role, or if these are real tears. “I can bring the shield and make her happy. If you want to make me leave afterward, I’ll go.”
You square your jaw. Lilly Anne wouldn’t stop talking about Chris, his dog, and that Captain America will come to her party this afternoon. “You’ve got an hour. Bring the dog and the shield.”
You turn on your heels to leave.
“Wait…I can prove that I didn’t lie,” he places his hand on your shoulder. “At least let me prove that I’m not a liar…”
>> Part 11
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lobotomizedlady · 7 months
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That dating app Anon is hilarious. So inaccurate.(I personally think dating apps is more scary than walking alone at midnight. Cause you’re looking to meet with a strange man on the internet ;fuck no. That chills my blood thinking of it. But I know folks who used dating apps.)
But my aunt met her husband on a dating app. She was I think in about at least her late 30’s or early 40’s, because my cousin were teenagers at that age. She divorced her husband for finding out he was a porn user
I came from Mormonism and people act like you’re an old maid if you’re unmarried at 21+ so it’s just makes me cringe realizing how much our society is influenced in general with cults. This cult mentality of thinking. Patriarchy is a sex and death cult.
I personally have no interest in dating at this point and some women seem to think it’s sad I’m childfree and single… but I don’t want kids either. I’ll have women tell me “it can happen at any age!” And express they had their first child at 37, or start their career till 40.
It’s so sinister how we are taught to fear aging. It’s a major distraction. From career and ambitions and talents and hobbies.
I think maybe men know that because they die sooner they want to take us with them, they’re like leeches.
Go on a dating app and pose as a 15 year old girl, a lot of men, a scary amount of men will prey in teenage girls online. So what exactly was anon’s point?
I’ve found the older I get, the less vulnerable I am to manipulation, and I think that’s why men prefer “younger women.”
First of all your aunt is based as fuck for divorcing her husband bc of porn. I'm assuming it was a decision based in religion since you said you come from Mormonism but still, always good to hear about a hypocritical coomer getting his ass kicked to the curb.
Oh you are sooo spot on with the observation of how society is absolutely infested with cult mentality. Patriarchal society in general really can be considered one of the biggest cults known to humanity bc basically every man alive is complicit & seeks to keep women from questioning our "role" with various strategies ranging from "you'll die a lonely hag surrounded by 20 cats if you don't conform" to "you'll burn in hell if you don't conform." And of course, conforming in both cases means spending your entire life in the service of men despite the well documented fact that single childless women are a happier demographic on average than married women with kids. Cults brainwash people the same way patriarchy brainwashes women: by fear mongering with lies & propaganda designed to ensure our subordination. It's all such bullshit.
And yeah men definitely prefer younger women out of a desire to manipulate & mold them into their "ideal woman" in addition to the pedophilic beauty standards they have. They admit to it as well bc they genuinely don't seem to understand why it's fucking disgusting and horrific and literally grooming (they hate when you use that word to describe a 47 yr old dating a 19 yr old but adults can be groomed too, every abusive relationship involves grooming and an age gap isn't even a necessary component though it helps due to the lack of maturity & life experience, which abusive men are well aware of and actively seek out).
I like how you rightfully call the fear of aging imposed on us by society as a distraction bc that's exactly it. Capitalism (which is imo inherently a greedy corrupt & deeply male minded model of economics) wants us wasting time and money on stupid shit like plastic surgery wrinkle creams and botox, to line their pockets yes but also bc as long as we are directing our critical eyes towards the mirror the ruling class (again, mostly male) are free to continue operating as usual without pesky things like protests and boycotts getting in the way of their bottom line. Not to mention on a personal level, men get to benefit from us being too absorbed in self scrutiny to realize we are worth more than what they give us (usually nothing but headaches) & the beauty obsession is nothing more than fighting a battle that can never be won bc the standard always morphs & female body types literally go in and out of fashion with the times.
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buddiebuffer · 3 months
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S7 E1 live reactions! (Except I cram it in one post cause I'm lazy)
Big props to whoever put a big dramatic abc logo in the flashback exactly one minute into the first episode airing on abc XD "abc presents a world television premiere" indeed
Damn I missed this show, I'm cracking up already at the therapist being all 🤨 at her movie trauma
Congrats to the national guard pilot pockets being more secure than the plane itself
NGL I really thought that plane would end up hitting the ship
No one from the national guard was able to match the arrival speed of the firefighters??
Oh hey, another Eddie disarming an explosive scene! Throwback 😊
SGAKFHD I looooove the joke of someone giving bumb disarming instructions badly
Awwww I feel a lil bad for pilot Joe but he's the one who volunteered bomb disarming instructions
SGAKFHD THEY JUST RECLINED THE CHAIR?? GREAT WORK CHIM, MY MAN
And there's the parallel between the crew and the case, which is still one of my favorite elements of this show
CHRISTOPHER FIRST DATE PROUD OF HIM
Honeymoon phase to Athena and Bobby was a good transition
Man, Angela Bassett is gorgeous 😍
THE FREEWAY SIGN COUPLE, THATS SO GOOD DGAKDHSHF
So many callbacks in one episode, this is great
The cruise has assigned seating? Wild
👀 what's up with Julian, why is Lola making faces like that
Rent bicycles? On a cruise ship?
Athena's anxiety is so fair, their life is chaotic, easy to be afraid of the slowdown
NGL, a date spreadsheet would be enjoyable to me
CHRIS DHDFFYTHD WHAT DAMN OKAY IM MAD AT HIM ON BEHALF OF THE GIRLS BUT ALSO IMPRESSED SHFKSHDH
"where does Chris get it from" Buck maybe? 👀
EDDIE DRAGGING BUCK INTO THIS PARENTING MOMENT SHFJSHFJS
Oh Athena has that found a case face XD
Okay I saw posts about the AA scene being funny and y'all weren't lying 🤣
Okay sure Eddie ASMR to make her vagina unclench, why not, this show is so fucking weird sometimes
Not a fan of the womanizer Chris logic being that his mom left. What about his grandma? His aunt? The best babysitter? There have been women in his life who didn't leave him. Idk, it's a weird mix of I can see it And it feels like a stretch
👀 what the fuck is happening on this cruise
Chim 🤝 Bobby: list of dates
BOBBY'S LEGS ARE SO WHITE LMAOOO
I really hate Julian's voice
There's no way that's Lola, not with that hat!!!!
ATHENA ALWAYS RIGHT NEVER WRONG LOVE HER SO MUCH
Chimney helping fish a passed out, penis stuck man out of a hot tub and then getting his own hot tub is wild
HOLY SHIT NOT JUST BAD WEATHER ON THE CRUISE BUT A FUCKING RAID OKAY TRULY CENTER OF CHAOS COUPLE
That's where it ends?? Okay fine guess we'll see how all that goes next time lol
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genderflu1dwh0r · 7 months
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Jade: Actually, someone who I think is hot that's a monster is Ursula.
Tori nodding: Mmm.
Jade: I thought that she was like- I loved her voice, I loved like her business she was running, cause she was honestly really fair with Ariel.
Tori laughing:
Jade: Like, you know what I mean? Like, she was like if you- you give me your voice and I give you legs.
Tori smiling: The long arm of the law, Ursula.
Jade: You think of the American Health Care system as it is today, if someone's like "if you want legs, just give me your voice" that's actually like pretty affordable.
Tori: Hey, an eye for an eye, a tit for tat.
Jade: Yeah, and so- but I- I thought she was hot and cool.
Tori: Sure... Like in an aunt who used to beat you type of way.
Jade: My aunt used to beat me.
Tori laughing: Exactly!
Jade laughing: She actually wasn't cool. God- I fucking hated her.
Tori looking away while laughing:
Jade: Ohmygod, every time I see her- whatever.
Tori wiping away tears from laughing so hard: Oh, Jade.
Jade: Because she would always come watch us when my mom was on deployment, and she was just awful.
Tori: Yeah.
Jade: Yeah. I hate her...
Jade going back to the topic: But there's also the VIP experience of Magcon!
Tori losing it again:
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It’s CMA-
I’m already planning to yell at you and I haven’t even started the chapter yet. in preparation: DREAM WHAT THE FUCK. Okay now that that’s out of the way, im going to go read it.
Ugh I hate her dad so much.
Aw sister bonding! And their aunt and uncle being protective; you love to see it.
I don’t love the idea that Josie thinks that part of the reason clover got married is to protect herself from their parents because I’m worried she’ll say that to Benedict and crush him. I mean he already thinks that she’s only with him to avoid angering the ton but still.
FUCK CLOVER DONT LIE TO HIM. YOU NEED TO TALK TO HIM!!!!!!!!!! DONT TRY TO PROTECT HIS FEELINGS PROTECT YOURSELF. Ugh Ben is going to be so upset when he finds out.
Going from holding her own wrist out of fear to squeezing his for reassurance (for his or hers, I couldn’t really say). I love the thought that instead of squeezing hands or whatever they squeeze each other’s wrists. The entire concept is so poetic I just-
SCREAMING FUCK CLOVER NO FUCK NO FUCK NO FUCK NO FUCK NO FUCK NO NO NO NO DONT SELF DESTRUCT FUCK FUCK FUCK
(I am hoping and praying that she has more of the seeds somewhere but I am so scared. This is going to crush Ben and her when she realizes what she’s done)
I wonder if instead of a party, it was a nice dinner for the two of them because he noticed she was sad….
Fuckkkk Ben didn’t come home?????? This is so devastating dream fuck no. I’m not even done reading and I’m already screaming for the next chapter
Shit she’s tearing him apart. Holy fuck clover I get that you’re stressed but for the love of god shut the fuck up.
Look I love to commend you for your ability to write drama and emotional scenes without making it a soap opera which is still definitely the case, but this is so much worse than a soap opera. This feels like being personally stabbed in the gut over and over and over again.
This is painful and raw and personal and emotional and tragic. My heart is absolutely aching for them right now. And the absolute whiplash that Ben went through………. He’s going to be a wreck
I actually think that contrary to what clover thinks that he will actually stop creating art because he’ll be too upset, which I think would be a really interesting twist. Instead of the pain she causes being the reason for her art, she’ll have to realize that it’s because of the joy she brings to his life.
And it’s true that by any measure he’s had an easier life than her, but to say that his pain and suffering isn’t just as valid is so cruel and invalidating; suffering is not a competition.
Also Ben has been through a lot. Besides the obvious part of his dad dying, he’s constantly being told how he’s the spare, how he’s second string and not as important.
He’s being told that how he loves his life doesn’t really matter compared to Anthony. He’s like the personification of the ‘nothing matters (/pos) vs nothing matters (/neg)’. I’m sure he’s struggled with the latter at some points as well. Even when he’s come to terms with it, there are still moments like when Anthony went to the duel where he has a crisis of faith.
Ugh idk why you said we might be mad at Ben…. Maybe in future chapters but def not this one. I can exactly blame clover but I’m kind of going to blame clover….
CMA hi darliiiing! ❤️
Lolll oh I knew you would be yelling at me for sure 😂
Josie and Clover will always be there for each other❤️ So will their aunt and uncle ❤️
Oh I don't think Josie thinks that or will tell Benedict that, no worries🥰 She thinks Clover married for love, but still thinks it's also an advantage that she married especially now that her parents can't drag her back to their home 😏
Squeezing wrist thing yeeees! ❤️ It's their way of holding hands and it'll be adorable 🥰
I think she planted all the seeds in the vase actually 😏 Buuut will the gardener throw the vase away? 😏 Or will he keep it?😁
Nopeeee, he was too busy partying so he didn't come home 😈
Clover did NOT hold back 💔
Omg darliiiing this is so sweet of you! ❤️ I really enjoy angst and it's wonderful to hear that I could reflect those emotions ❤️😍
That would definitely be an interesting twist and it would shock Clover! 😱
And it’s true that by any measure he’s had an easier life than her, but to say that his pain and suffering isn’t just as valid is so cruel and invalidating; suffering is not a competition. This is so true!
But Clover thinks it is 😏 That's what she told Benedict about her and Josie's childhood, how Josie had it worse than her 💔 So I think she made herself believe it, and now that she snapped, she ended up saying all that to Benedict 💔
And that's another thing Clover needs to realize, that Benedict's life wasn't "perfect" even if it looked like it was ❤️
They will both be so so heartbroken in the next chapter 😏😈
Thank you so so much for this! ❤️❤️❤️
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TSITP 2x06 - "Love Fest" : Quotes
"- I don't know I'm kind of happy here, and not in a pharmaceutically induced way. (Skye) - And I want you to be happy. I want you to know them. (Julia) - Do you? Because it kind of feels like you've kept me away and only told me all the bad stuff. But, I don't know, I mean, this place is king of lime our last tie to them. (Skye) - (...) Just.... don't be surprised if the phone doesn't ring. (Julia) - I know you genuinely believe that you're gonna get closure by selling this house, but you're not. You never will. (Skye) - What makes you so sure? (Juila) - Because you're not selling it for closure or for money or any of the other reasons. You're selling it for confirmation. That you could... that we could never belong here. That if you tried, it would just be shitmas all over again. (Skye) "- Don't tell me you bought your own Christmas gifts, too. (Julia) - Hey, at least I'm guaranteed to get exactly what I want. (Susannah) (...) - Can you just quit with the martyr mentality? Jesus, you're making her out to be like Meredith Blake or whatever he name is from The Parent Trap." (Susannah) - So you think I made it up? (Julia) - Mom, obviously not. I mean, your dad was an emotionally withholding prick. And Aunt Susannah was in denial about her parents' shittiness. But the moment Conrad and Jeremiah came to you with a version of their house and their family that didn't fit, you just shut down. I mean, instead of hearing them out, you got rid of all their suff and took the first offer on the table? Mom. You have the biggest heart, and it really sucks to see you close it off because of the past." (Skye)
"- Okay. So, I know things aren't going so great right now, but it's always the darkest before the dawn, right? (Jeremiah) - It's over. (Conrad) - No. Our last memory here can't be this. Everyone miserable and defeated. I mean, this place deserves a better goodbye than that. (Belly) - Like what? My mom came to the beach house with Susannah for the first time after her dad died. And it was supposed to be just the two of them, but Susannah hated how empty the house felt, so she decided to throw a huge party. Everyone was dancing and drinking, and they went swimming at midnight. And Susannah said it was like Gatsby or something. So I say that we throw a party, too." (Belly)
"- But, yes, Taylor does have some good therapy in her back pocket, despite her questionable sources. You... tend to either live way up here, where everything is awesome, or way down here, where everything's shit." (Steven)
"- You know those places you always end up in your dreams? You know, your subconscious brain takes you there 'cause it's a safe space in real life? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - This house is that for me. And after today, I'll only ever get to swim in this pool in my dreams. It's weird. (Jeremiah) - Well... I mean, if if time is running out... (Belly) - You did not just do that. (Jeremiah) - Sorry. You were going dark. I had to save you from yourself. (Belly) - Is that all you got? (Jeremiah) - Yeah! No! (Belly) - You know, I never thought we were gonna lose this place. Did you? (Belly) - No. Never. (Jeremiah) - I always thought I loved this place as much as I possibly could. Now I... I can't help but think I didn't love it enough." (Belly)
"- Babe? (Milo) - Yes, baby, I'm-I'm here. (Taylor) - When are you coming back? I'm trying to write some new songs, but I need my muse next to me." (Milo)
"- Uh, gin for Skye. (Jeremiah) - Who drinks gin? (Belly) - Old people and Skye." (Jeremiah)
"- Oh, no. What, your I.D. didn't work, Mr. Herbertson? (Jeremiah) - Fuck off. At least I have one. (Conrad) - What? Listen, it's 'cause I don't need one, all right? Jumper and I are tight. You know, we're, like, bros. Come one, how hard could it be? Watch and learn. (Jeremiah) - Oh, look at that face. (Conrad) - So, what? Do you want to, like, pay someone to go in and buy it for us or... ? Try a different store? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. Hop a few towns over, where they don't know us as well? (Conrad) - Yeah, I just don't think that anyone is gonna buy your Guam I.D. (Belly) - I would love to hear your plan, Isabel. (Conrad) - Why don't I just go in and ask? (Belly) - That's not gonna work. (Conrad) - He's right, it's not gonna work. (Jeremiah) - Okay." (Belly)
"- No. No, no, I'm not. (Belly) - Oh? (Jumper) - I'm gonna tell you the truth, and then you can decide if you want to help me out. Uh, so here's the deal. It's been a really crappy six weeks. (Belly) - Yeah, I, I heard about their mom. (Jumper) - And I'm sure, um, you heard the house was for sale. (Belly) - Was? (Jumper) - It actually sold this morning. So tonight is our last night here, for, like, ever. (Belly) - Whoa. That blows. (Jumper) - Yeah, I know. It really, really blows. Have you ever just had, like, the shittiest day and all you want to do is just hang out with your friends and have a beer?" (Belly - Seriously Belly)
"- Let's get this in the car quick. And do not get pulled over on the way home, or I'll say you stole it while I was on the john. (Jumper) - I can't believe you just asked. (Jeremiah) - I can't believe it worked. (Conrad) - Come on, you guys. Not everything has to be so complicated. (Belly) - For me? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - What's you get me? (Jeremiah) - Drink it and see. (Belly) - Half cherry, half Coke. Your specialty. Nice. (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - Where's mine? (Conrad) - You always say they're too sugary. (Belly) - Yeah, well, I'm thirsty, so too bad. Mm. It's too sugary. And I thought cocoa was your specialty." (Conrad)
"- All right, so what's the plan here? (Conrad) - Uh, I mean, it's a rager, right? (Belly) - So, go big. How big are we talking, Bells? (Jeremiah) - Right. I mean, are we talking, like.... Dad's Amex big or... ? (Conrad) - The sacred emergency Amex? Are you thinking what I'm thinking? (Jeremiah) - What? (Belly) - Blow-up furniture, strobe lights, bubble machines... the whole shebang. (Jeremiah) - Yes, yes and yes. (Belly) - Yes? Okay. Last one to fill a cart has to load it all in. Go! (Jeremiah) - Wait. Wait. Wait. Stop!" (Belly)
"- Retro vibes? (Steven) - Yeah. (Taylor) - That's sweet. He. I would come to this. I would at least stop by. (Steven) - Oh, my God. Please. You wouldn't even be on the guest list if you weren't throwing the party. No, but, look, I tagged Marisa and Dara. I mean, who else? (Taylor) - Please. Look, they're the biggest gossips in town. Everybody in Cousins will know about this party in no time. (Steven) - You think Shayla will come? (Taylor) - No. No, she in Ibiza. (Steven) - Oh. (Taylor) - And, yes, she calls it "Ib-eeth-a". (Steven) - No way. (Taylor) - No! You do that one more time, it's off the list. (Steven) - Whatever. Like you didn't put it on here specially for me. (Taylor) - Okay, yeah. Only because you and Belly forced me and my mom to watch your little dance routine ad nauseam. (Steven) - Okay, that is an overexaggeration! (Taylor) - 'Cause how I remember it is a little a flair with a leg kick." (Steven)
"- There is nothing fun in your cart. This is a party. (Belly) - These plates have glitter on 'em. (Conrad) - You need to get out more, Conrad. No, it's not that. Can we just talk about the elephant in the room that I feel like we both are pretending isn't there? (Belly) - Yeah. Of course. (Conrad) - I've been trying to figure out how to say it. How to apologize for that day. Susannah's funeral. (Belly) - Belly, you don't have to apologize for that. (Conrad) - Please. Just let me say this. I never meant to make that day about me. I was awful to you. I mean, I'm so ashamed of how I acted. It's just not how I wanted the day to go at all. I wanted to be there for you. That's why I went to go find you in the rec room. It's not fine. It wasn't fine. And I saw Aubrey and it's not like we were together anymore. It's not like I had any right. (Belly) - Of course you did. I was having a panic attack. I just crumbled. Felt like I couldn't breathe. Aubrey was just the one who found me. I really wish it was you. (Conrad) - Hey, Jere. We almost done. (Belly) - Cool. Uh, hurry up then. (Jeremiah) - Leave 'em around so everybody can take pictures at the party. We got to get one of all of us together. Like Susannah made us do every summer. (Belly) - That's a good idea." (Jeremiah)
"- Okay, but so I part my teeth first and then stick my tongue out? (Skye) - What are you guys talking about? (Belly) - Apparently Skye's never kissed anybody. (Taylor) - Which is completely normal and fine. (Belly) - I know. Externally imposed societal expectations of "normal" have no effect on me. That being said, I've decided that I am ready and willing and would like to know what to do with the various parts of my mouth when it meets another mouth. (Skye) - You want to take this one? I mean, Belly's the expert. Cam, Jere, Conrad.... (Taylor) - Taylor. (Belly) - What was it like kissing all them? Was it different? And in what ways? And feel free to be as technical as humanly possible. (Skye) - Yeah, Belly, spare no detail. What happened? (Taylor) - Um, me first kiss with Cam was really, really sweet. And with Conrad, I wasn't even in my body. I think I kind of blacked out. Uh, and with... Jeremiah, ... I thought it would be really weird 'cause we've been friends for so long, but.... It was surprisingly really hot. Like, really, really hot. Pretty hot. (Belly) - Well, then, out of all three, who would you kiss again? (Skye) - Isn't it obvious? (Taylor) - No comment. (Belly) - But is there ever a situation in which it's, like, all teeth and no tongue? (Skye) - Stop let yourself be in the moment and everything else will come naturally. (Belly) - Yeah. Just make sure they moisturize. (Taylor) - Care to explain? (Belly) - Milo is obsessed with lip balm. It honestly changes the game. (Taylor) - Try not to overthink it. Okay? I mean, your first kiss is supposed to feel like a dream. It there's any place where dreams come true, it's here." (Belly)
"- And Jeremiah's been swallowed by the garage. (Conrad) - You know, I always hated when Mom made us take these photos. It's like she knew we'd want them later though. (Jeremiah) - Oh, dude. No. We're so young. I can barely even remember some of those summers. (Conrad) - What if it all fades? All our memories of her. (Jeremiah) - It won't. Hey. When the movers get that stuff to Boston, the first thing I'm gonna do is I'm gonna find that picture Mom painted of you last summer. Because I never want to forget that thing. (Conrad) - You suck. (Jeremiah) - I think a museum might take it. I'm being honest with you. (Conrad) - All right. Get out of here. (Jeremiah) - I think everyone deserves to get to see Greek god Jeremiah." (Conrad)
"- Hey, what's in there? (Belly) - Oh, you know, bunch of stuff. (Jeremiah) - Oh, my God! Susannah's roller skates. I haven't seen these in forever. (Belly) - Right? (Jeremiah) - Wow. You think they fit? (Belly) - Okay, just don't throw up on anyone doing spins, all right? (Jeremiah) - That was one time. (Belly) - I had to throw that shirt away. (Jeremiah) - Okay. What else is in here? Let's see. I actually have this one, uh, taped on the mirror in my bedroom. (Belly) - Yeah. Look at how you're mooning over Conrad. (Jeremiah) - It was a long time ago. (Belly) - Really? 'Cause it seemed like you were looking at him like that earlier. (Jeremiah) - No. I wasn't. (Belly) - At the store. Felt like I was... walking in on something. (Jeremiah) - Uh, it's... it's kind of hard to explain. I mean, I think.... sometimes you're getting over your past and-and moving on in-in the present all at the same time. I don't know. Does that make any sense?" (Belly)
"- You look hot. (Taylor) - Really? It's not too much? (Belly) - No. Jeremy's gonna love it. (Taylor) - What? (Belly) - Mmm-mm. You've been looking at him all day like he's this ice cream cone you're dying to lick. (Taylor) - Taylor! Shh! Please. (Belly) - Sorry. (Taylor) - That's so... Mm, it's just... (Belly) - It's complicated. (Taylor) - Yeah, no that's exactly what he said to me. After he told me that he didn't kiss me during the truth or dare because, if he started kissing me, he wouldn't be able to stop. (Belly) - Belly, that's, like, Wattpad-level hot. (Taylor) - I know. (Belly) - You could sell that. (Taylor) - I know. But then... I don't know... there was..., like, this weird moment with Conrad today. (Belly) - I don't want to talk about Conrad. He really hurt you. (Taylor) - I know. It was probably just echoes. You know? (Belly) - It sounds messy. You know, just be careful, okay? (Taylor) - Yeah. No, you're right. Right. Uh, yeah. I will be. You know, besides, like, tonight is about something bigger. Yeah. It's party time, Yeah? (Belly) - You got this? (Taylor) - Yeah. (Belly) - All right, get dressed quick. (Taylor) - Okay." (Belly)
"- Oh, my God. (The gang) - Oh, my God, Marisa, I'm so glad you were in town. (Belly) - Oh, my God, me too. The gang's back together. (Nicole) - Yeah. I mean... Kind of. (Dara) - I heard about Gigi's dad. That sucks. (Belly) - Okay, she's fine. There's a documentary crew following her, and she thinks she's the next Kim K. (Dara) - Dara, you signed an NDA. You're not supposed to say anything. (Marisa and Nicole) - Okay, who cares? She told literally everyone. (Dara) - Tell me you didn't miss this drama. (Nicole) - No, I actually... I really did. (Belly) - We missed you. (The gang) - Oh, all right. I will be right back." (Belly)
"- Whoa! - Oh, shit. (Cam) - You don't need to hurt yourself to get my attention. (Jeremiah) - Uh, I got to get another one. So I'll BRB." (Belly)
"- No, I don't think so. (Steven) - Right. O... (Conrad) - Look, I'm rooting for you, bro, just don't fucking break her heart again. (Steven) - Says the guy who's been following Taylor around all night. (Conrad) - Oh, uh, no, I fully cop to that. Come one, man, who's she fooling, you know? (Steven) - You know she has a boyfriend, right? Just... Technically. (Conrad) - Okay, but he's all wrong for her, so... (Steven) - All right, all right. I'm not snitching. I'm just saying, bro. Be careful." (Conrad)
"- If that's gin, I'm killing you. (Conrad) - Aw, it's tequila, come on. (Jeremiah) - Okay, cups up. Listen, no matter how much time passes or how far apart we are, we're always gonna love you guys, okay? (Jeremiah) - All right? All right? - Aw, Jeremy, you cheeseball. (Taylor) - All right, to the last night!"
"- So, is she here? (Milo) - Yeah, I mean, she's around somewhere. (Skye) - Sick. Do you want to give me a direction? Like, east, west, something? (Milo) - We don't know where she is, dude. Sorry (Cam) - Yeah, I mean, she's probably wherever Steven is, so... (Skye) - Then that's where I'll be. (Milo) - What was that? (Cam) - Potentially toxic stew of masculinity masquerading as burning love? (Skye) - Right, and you just stirred it all up. (Cam) - Yeah. (Skye) - We got to warn Taylor. (Cam) - We should find Taylor. (Syke) (...) - I feel like we fulfilled our duty. You know? (Skye) - Yeah. (Cam) - Like, whatever happens next is in the hands of fate and Milo's creepily moisturized lips. (Skye) - I cannot believe that dude drove over 300 miles to make, like, this grand declaration of love for Taylor. (Cam) - I mean, is that, like, a dude thing? Acting on pure instinct and bravado and giving no fucks. (Skye) - It's definitely not a Cam thing. (Cam) - I don't know, maybe it should be. You know, life is short. Cellular decline awaits us all. These vessels are fleeting and finite, no? (Skye) - Yeah, I guess I kind of do have a minor tendency to play it safe. (Cam) - Major tendency. No judgments. (Skye) - You ever been skinny dipping? (Cam) - Is that an invitation? (Skye) - Oh. No. I mean, I wasn't... Uh, no. I was just talking about this, this one time last summer, a bunch of my friends went skinny dipping, and I chickened out, and I still regret it. (Cam) - Like you're gonna regret not getting on that boat? (Skye) - You know what? I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna get on that damn boat. (Cam) - You know... if we are being bold... I was wondering... maybe I could kiss you? I mean, totally feel free to say no. My bad if I was, like, misreading... (Skye) - Yes. (Cam) - Yeah?" (Skye)
"- Taylor you win. (Steven) - I win what? (Taylor) - This. Whatever we're doing. First person to admit they-they caught feelings loses, right? So, I lose. You win. (Steven) - Okay, drama queen. (Taylor) - Stop, Stop. I'm being serious right now, okay? I like you. Even when you were just my little sister's annoying best friend. Like, you were always just this person who was around, and now you're someone I miss when they're not around. I don't know how it happened, or when it happened... But now, you're my favorite person. Come on. Say something, please." (Steven) "- Thank you. (Belly) - Cheers. (Jeremiah) - Hey, where is everyone? I mean, we have to take that, uh, group picture. (Belly) - Oh, I can track them down if you want. Uh, last time I saw Steven he was with Tay-Tay, actually. What's going on there? Yeah, this house has seen its fair share of make-outs. Yeah. You know I had my first kiss in this house? (Jeremiah) - Really? (Belly) - Mm-hmm. And my second, on the same night. (Jeremiah) - Wow. Scandalous. (Belly) - Yeah. (Jeremiah) - Whose hearts were you breaking? (Belly) - You remember Christy Turnduck? (Jeremiah) - Turducken? (Belly) - Yes. The Turducken, yeah. Uh, and then, um, our neighbour at the time. Uh, what was his name? (Jeremiah) - Oh, Clay Bertolet. (Belly) - Um... Yes. Yeah. - No way. You know, he once broke a window in the garage and blamed me. (Belly) - Really? (Jeremiah) - Yeah. (Belly) - He was a good kisser, though. Not as good as you." (Jeremiah)
"- Fight! (Partygoer) - Bro, you need to go. (Steven) - I don't think that's up to you. (Milo) - Can we just go outside and-and cool off a moment, please? (Taylor) - She doesn't even want you here. (Steven) - Shut up, Steven. (Taylor) - Oh, trust me, she wants me. Everywhere. All the time. (Milo) - Can you not do that right now? (Taylor) - Oh! (crowd) - Oh, my God. (Taylor) - Steven. (Jeremiah) - Babe, this is for you. (Milo) - I literally don't even want this. (Taylor) - What is happening? (Belly) - No idea. (Taylor) - Come on, man! - Kick his ass, Steven. - You got it, Steven. - Come on! Get over here! Help! - Milo, stop! You're embarrassing me right now. (Taylor) - Man, fuck this. Come one, Taylor, let's go. These people are too pedestrian for us anyways. (Milo) - These people are my friends. Do you even know me? Like, at all? (Taylor) - Babe, what are you talking about? You're my girl. (Milo) - What's my middle name? (Taylor) - .... (Milo) - Yeah, I can't do this anymore. It's over. (Taylor) - Taylor.... (Milo) - It's Madison. Her middle name is Madison." (Steven)
"- Guys, so I've been texting with my mom, and she was able to put a condition into the sale. Since the buyers are only gonna use this place as a vacation home, they're agreed to let you rend the place for one week every summer. (Syke) - Wait... (Belly) - Wait, are you serious? We get to come back? Oh, my God, Skye, this is amazing. Oh, my God! (Jeremiah) - No, it's not. You can tell your mom thanks, but no. (Conrad) - Come on, Conrad, at least hear them out. It's over. Why are you the only one that gets to make this decision? (Jeremiah) - Jere, we're not gonna pay another family to rent our house. (Conrad) - This isn't our house anymore. (Jeremiah) - Exactly. Let it go. (Conrad) - Yeah, 'cause you're an expert at that. (Jeremiah) - Jere. (Belly) - No, no, this is the shit he does. When things aren't perfect, instead of trying to fix it, he just decides to throw it away. And it's not just the house. You did it to Belly, too. You came to me, you fucking begged me for my blessing to be with her. (Jeremiah) - Is that true? (Belly) - Jere, that was between us. (Conrad) - Yeah, it's fucking true. You know, when shit got tough, he couldn't handle it, and he dropped you. (Jeremiah) - Shut up, Jere. Don't use me to get at him. (Belly) - Belly, come on. (Jeremiah) - You know what? I don't want to be a part of this, okay? (Belly) - Belly... (Jeremiah) - Way to go, Jere. I mean, real classy. (Conrad) - Yeah. You're a real fucking asshole, you know that? (Jeremiah) - Grow up, Jere. (Conrad) - I did grow up! I watched Mom slip away a little bit every single day, while you were at college or with Belly or moping around after you screwed that up. (Jeremiah) - Jere, you know for a fact that I came home every second I could. (Conrad) - But it wasn't every day. (Jeremiah) - Okay, Okay. What do you want, a medal? (Conrad) - You know, I looked up to you every day of my life. And when people said that you were better than me, I wouldn't mind because I believed them, too. But you're not. Now I finally see you for who you really are. (Jeremiah) - What's that? (Conrad) - A coward. You're not someone to look up to. You're not even somebody I want to know." (Jeremiah)
"- Belly! Belly, come back inside. I'm not dragging your dead body out of the ocean if you drown out there. Come out of the water, Belly. (Conrad) - Leave me alone. (Belly) - I can't. (Conrad) - No. What are you... No! Hey! Hey! Hey, put me down! (Belly) - You're drunk, Belly. (Conrad) - Just put me down! Conrad! (Belly) - I'm not gonna put you down. (Conrad) - Let go! Let go! (Belly) - Belly... Come on. Let me help you. Come on. (Conrad) - J-Just go, okay? (Belly) - I'm not leaving you, Belly. (Conrad) - But you already did. (Belly) - Why didn't you tell me you went to Jeremiah about us? Why? Why didn't... (Belly) - I don't know. (Conrad) - If I had known... that you'd done that... that you cared that much about me, and about us.... If I had known, then I would've fought for you. (Belly) - What do you mean? (Conrad) - Fought for us. I would've fought for us. I mean, at prom and at the funeral. I mean, I... would've been there for you, through everything. - I thought you knew. (Conrad) - From the moment we kissed on the beach... (Belly) - I thought you knew. (Conrad) - Then why? Why? Why did you throw it all away? Why? I th... I thought that we loved each other. (Belly) - We did. (Conrad) - I guess not enough." (Belly)
"- I'm really sorry about what happened. (Steven) - It's okay. He shouldn't have come all this way and made a scene like that. I mean, I feel kind of bad. I mean, I don't know... (Taylor) - So, look, what I was saying earlier... (Steven) - You take it all back? (Taylor) - What, do you want me to? You have to say what you want, Taylor. It's your move. (Steven) - You remembered my middle name. (Taylor) - Taylor Madison Jewel." (Steven) "- Belly, come swim with us. Yeah. (The gang) - Are you okay? (Nicole) - Everything is wrong. I promised Susannah I wouldn't lose the magic, but it's gone." (Belly)
"- Mommy. I need you. I'm at the summer house. Susannah's house, except it's not hers anymore, and everything is going wrong, and the boys may never speak to each other again. Just come, please, okay? Just come, please, okay? Just come and fix it.
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lovelykhaleesiii · 1 year
Note
💗💗💗💗 (going to just place it into your askbox bc my blog is blank and im just a lurker, forgive me 😭😂)
AnYwAys- I hope you like it and it will cheer you up 💗😘
Also, if you get a certain reference to a netflix show, you're amazing 🤚
Warnings; uh, cussing? Soft!Aegon and maybe a little o.o.c aegon too, and there is a creepy guy but he doesn't get far!
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Your mother pulls off your covers and you scramble to put them back on. It was unnaturally cold and you had been cold all night and were finally getting warm.
"Get up! Today's the day!" You mother said, chipper.
You attempt to rub some of the sleep out of your eye. "What? What is today?"
"The ball!"
Oh.
In truth, you had forgot all about it. But of course you couldn't tell her that. After all your family was one of the most important - well second important after Targaryen family - and it was your family's responsibility to throw the yearly ball. And to discourage the Targaryen family from attending.
You see, your mother and father never really told you exactly why they hated them. Your guess was something happened between them a long time ago and had been forgotten but to cause even more chaos in the seven realms, they choose to just go with it. While you never hated the entire family, you hated one of them in particular. Aegon Targaryen. The now crowned king was spoiled and had an even worse attitude then most spoiled princes you had met. You much preferred his brother Aemond. You wouldn't admit you liked any of them though, your mother mother would probably exile you if she ever found out.
Later that day, to being getting ready for the ball - with it being a masquerade - you bathed and as you dunked under the water, you could hear both your maid and your mother shouting your name. Irritated, you get out of the tub, grabbing a robe.
"Mother I am here, what is your will?"
Both of them look at you in horror before pulling you back into your room.
"Aren't you going to get dressed?" Mother asked.
You nod. "I figured I could bathe first, mother."
She then sits next to you. "This ball could be your chance to-"
You groan, knowing what she were to say next. Your chance to meet a suitor. Suitor Ugh, seven hells, even thinking of that word made you sick.
While you wanted to be married, you never wanted to just be known to just give birth. You made sure you made your opinion loud and clear after your aunt had died in childbirth birthing your uncle's one and only child.
You keep your mouth shut, not wanting to spoil the day for your mother and you just nod along and once she leaves, you begin to get ready. For the ball, you choose a off the shoulder dress with lace wrapped around and completed the look with feathers made to resemble angel wings with the maid pulling your hair in halo like braid to complete the angel like look.
Aegon smirked as he grabbed the masquerade mask and placed it on. He had always wanted to attend your family's famous parties. He had dressed up as a knight for the costume themed party. He swipes some milk of the poppy from a servers plate and begins drinking it, look at the people in front of him as he does so. He places the empty cup on another servers plate and begins to ascend down the elegant stair case and up to the massive fish tank, adjourned in golden specks. And as he looks through the glass at the fish, something shiny catches his eye. A silver braided chain and on it a silver pendent of your house's sigils - a phoenix with its wing spread - he then leans his head up and sure enough there you were.
"Why am I surprised to see you here," you say, crossing your arms.
"I could ask you the same." He looks you up and down, trying to size you up. "Angel"
"Fuck off."
He snickers as you walk off, swiping another drink as you do.
Looking back on it, it probably wasn't a good idea to slip out to the gardens. As this particular prince your mother had personally invited didn't want to take the hint of you not being interested but wouldn't leave you alone.
"My lady," the prince tries to grab your wrist but you slap his hand away.
"Leave me alone."
He tries to grab you again - this time your face.
"Leave me alone!" You then punch him, knocking him right on his ass.
To your luck, Aegon had just so happened to had noticed the sleazy prince and decided to make sure he didn't try anything. But he was too late. When he ran up be saw you, in pain, holding your hand, and the prince knocked out.
"I guess you didn't need my help?"
"Of course not, prat."
Aegon scuffs. "I am king, you can't treat me like that. I've been training to fight since I was born!"
You simply roll your eyes. "Sorry, what I meant to say was, how long have you been training to be a prat," you then mockingly bow, "my lord." And to get the last word, you walk away, smirking in victory. What you didn't know was that Aegon was also smirking.
The next morning, Alicent had ripped the covers off Aegon's sleeping form. "Do you want to tell me why Jace had told me you snuck out and went to their ball last night?"
Aegon groans, grabbing the blanket from his mother before saying, "I just went to have fun, nobody knew I was there, mother, we had masks."
Alicent rips off the covers again. "That doesn't matter! They are our greatest enemy! You cannot even be near them!"
"What is the matter? You said you wish to see my with someone and acting how a ruler should."
"Aegon..." Silence. "Just...get dressed."
Your mother had greeted you for breakfast and told you, to your horror, you were to visit the Targaryens to extend and olive branch later that day, which meant you had to see the brat king himself. Again. As if you didn't have enough problems, tour hand was sore and bruised and it hurt like hell and you also fought like hell to not let your mother know what you had done. And the fact, in the silence of your room that night, you couldn't stop thinking about how Aegon called you angel. A sarcastic way, of course, as you were wearing literal angel wings, but that didn't change the fact your stomach felt weird and filled with butterflies when he called you that...
Again, to your horror, your mother informed you, just as you arrived to the Targaryen castle, you and your family would all be staying as guests for a couple days.
That night, you couldn't sleep so you slipped past the guards and into the gardens and to the big pond. But what you didn't notice that in the dark was Aegon also at the pond and he also couldn't sleep that night due to also thinking about his and yours interacting at the party.
As you ran your fingers on the surface of the water of the pond, Aemond began to tip toe away from his hiding spot. Before he could though, he bumped into you, making you scream and trip into the unusually large and deep pond...also taking Aemond with you.
Coming up to the surface, you push him. "You scared me!"
He puts his hands up in surrender as he laughs. Genuinely laughs. A light blush makes it away up to your face and prayed to all the gods that he couldn't tell with how dark it was. An comfortable silence comes between you both and you don't know why but you had the sudden urge to...kiss him. And he had the same idea and before you both knew it, both of you were leaning forward.
Your lips touched his and he thought they were the softest and as you did too. And just as he runs his hands through your hair, two guards rush over, hearing you scream, and you both break apart just in time.
The final days of your visit went bye quicker, quicker then you like. Aemond personally had shown you hidden ways to sneak in and out of the large castle and to his own chambers which normally ended in you both "intentionally" cuddling after nights events.
Aemond didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to admit it that he was or already had been falling for you literally and figurative. He lies awake at night, in the dark, staring at the ceiling. He knew you deserved better. He hadn't been the perfect son. He visit(ed) brothels, was violent, and was begining to become a drunk. He wasn't perfect, far from it. Compared to him, you were an angel, even his own mother thought so. Even his brother questioned why he hadn't gone to any brothels in the few weeks you had came and gone. The best answer he could come up with is that he didn't need too.
He couldn't be falling for you though! You were the daughter of his family's greatest enemy! A rival for the throne! He couldn't have...
After little over a month you had left, he was still thinking about the shared kiss. It felt...right. And maybe, for the first time in his life, he could have something good. He figured fuck it and threw his covers off and scrambled to get dressed just by the moon light.
Due to your families basically living right next door, it was easy for him to visit. All he really had to do was slip from the guards and make a run for it.
As like the other time and like Aemon, you also couldn't sleep either. You couldn't think of a thing to shut your mind off so you thanked the gods when you heard rustling under your window. Getting out of bed, you opened your window you come face to face with Aegon. Climbing onto the surprisingly tough vines that grew around the castle. You couldn't help but smile as you help him through the window and into the room.
Unlike before, it was now an uncomfortable silence that flows between you and Aegon.
"I..." He clears his throat. "I missed you."
"I missed you too." You then gasp as you remember that it had been Ageon's name day just a week prior and you had got him a gift. You tell him to wait for a second and you grab the small gift from under your pillow and hand it to him.
To say Aegon is shocked would be an understatement. While he had received his fair amount of expensive and elegant gifts from lots of people, he never once got one he actually loved or even liked.
You send him a smile. "Open it."
He carefully tears off the paper and opens the box. The gift in question was a silver ring, made from valyrian steel, with the Targaryen sigil stamped on it. He runs his fingers over the design and he puts it on, it fitting perfectly on his index finger.
"D...do you like it?" You quietly ask.
"I love it."
He again genuinely smiles and he brings you in for another kiss.
Aegon decided to stay the night and the morning after, your maid had surprise you by, no fault of her own, bursting in without knocking. She gasps as Aegon rushes - and by extension falling off the bed to the floor - to dress himself and as you cover your self with the covers, hiding your laughter.
The maid closes the door quickly. "My lady, your mother is coming to your chambers!"
Your eyes widen and you grab your robe, quickly dressing. You lead Aegon to the window, giving him a quick kiss before he starts to climb out the window. Your mother, not being the patient woman she is, bursts in just as you have to push Aegon right out the window with him landing right in the waters below. You manage to bite the inside of your cheek to hide your smiling as you turn to your mother.
You have lots of thinking (and explaining) to do if this ever got out.
OMG THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN!!!! this was so adorable 🥺🥺🥺💖
think you swapped the brother’s names around but THATS OKAY, I got you!!!!
is it wrong that I want this? ugh the angst and the secret sex would be *chefs kiss* !!!
thank you for taking the time to write and send this nonnie xx
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msookyspooky · 1 year
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"I already lost Sidney, I can't lose you!" Like he said in Sequels Suck.
:)
since people seemed to love my two other angsty blurbs, here is another one ft. Dad!Randy 😌
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Gale, with her hands up says, "can I just say one last thing?"
Jill scuffs. "Like what? Please?"
She shakes her head, smirking once she realizes that you were charging up the shock pads. "Clear."
"Clear?"
"Clear!" You put the shock pads right to her head and she drops like a sack a bricks. "You forgot the one thing about remakes, Jill. Don't fuck with the original."
You put the shock pads onto the table and help Gale and Judy up. Just then, Dewey and Randy come running in, a look of terror and shock across there faces.
"We thought you needed..." Randy trails off.
"Help? We got it. Thanks." You smile at him.
A week later, you and Gale were allowed to leave the hospital. She and Dewey left, going to pack up and going to move to New york. And you were packing to leave also. Before you left, you wanted to say good-bye to Randy and his daughter, Clara.
Randy walks in with you and Clara says, "did you bring auntie y/n?!"
"Why don't you hug her and find out?!"
She yells out of excitement and runs to give you a hug. You laugh as you pick her up and spin her around before putting her back down.
Once Clara was settled down and playing with her toys, you and Randy sit on the couch.
"You're really leaving?"
You nod sadly. "Yeah. This feels like the last time, you know."
"Oh, you just jinxed it!" He laughs.
You roll your eyes. "Still immature I see. But seriously, this feels like the last time we'll have to deal with this. I think it's finally over."
"So why don't you move back to Woodsboro then?"
You immediately shake your head. "I'll pass. Too many memories."
"Clara would miss her aunt. And I know I would miss you. Dewey and even Gale would miss you!
You scuff. "Clara and Dewey? Yes. Gale? Maybe. But you? We both know that's a lie."
"I would!"
You let out a laugh. "Sure. You got a life here. A good job, a kid, an amazing home, you aren't going to miss me."
You ignore the tighting in your throat. You knew Randy though it's true but you also knew deep down it wasn't. The only thing connecting you with Gale, Dewey, and Ray was the trauma and now that it was over, you would go your separate ways and never talk to each other again. I mean 10 years had passed since Roman and after that you became a hermit again and hardly ever talked to Dewey and Ray. Coming back to Woodsboro was the first time you saw Dewey and Randy in person and Gale not on t.v.
You felt as though if you could go back in time you would. Killing Billy and Stu on the spot or turning them in, save Derek, Mark and Sid's dad, maybe give dating another try. But it was now over and you were going back to being a hermit.
Even though being a hermit wasn't exactly healthy, Billy and Stu were still out there and there was always a possibility of another idiot putting on the ghostface mask and trying to get famous.
You, by all accounts, were a damaged woman and you couldn't shake off the feeling that you didn't deserve any happiness. You tried to save Billy and Stu, causing Sid to get killed and Randy to hate you, you didn't turn them in when you learned they were still alive, you lost track of how many people got killed because of idiots trying to copy Billy and Stu and how many lies you had to tell. Not to mention the people you indirectly hurt.
It got tiring after so many years of going threw this and you figured it was better to just not have hope at a normal live because you knew it wouldn't be possible.
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Fucked up part is she still doesnt keep me from them. She would never do that in the first place. She encourages me to talk to my nani bc shes knows my nani misses me. But I dont know how to. How do I talk to someone when they won't listen. When they wanna play peacekeeper trying to keep a family together that probably doesnt need to be together? I told my nani my aunt needs to get help. Needs to see someone about her brain bc this isnt my wife burden to bare. I have to work on myself and my wife. I need To fix my family my aunt did a pretty good job at shattering. It's always fucking like this. My family just wants to see me miserable. And she knew exactly how to do that. Couldn't just accept the fact she fucked up. She needed to do everything in her power to make my wife out to be the enemy and has sent those screenshots not just to my nani but to the rest of my family too. So I donT talk to any of them. It's easy to vilify someone when all you see is the moment they snap from hurt. The fucked up part is we never did that. Could have sent those messages to everyone. Could have told everyone what she gave my wife and how shes on meth and pills and alcohol. But no. We wouldnt stoop that low. But each day that goes by I want to. I want to hurt her so bad. I want her to understand the pain she caused us. The fact she almost took my family from me over a stupid selfish mistake. All she had to do was listen but now she ripped our family apart. So I hope shes happy. Hope shes proud of herself. Hope my nani realizes my wife wasnt the problem, her daughter was. At first it could be let go. IT would've taken time but it was possible. Now? Nah. Fuck thay and fuck her. I'll always love my nani but I cant look at her the same now either and I hate my aunt for that.
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that makes four.
story page | talk to me + join the tag list
PART 1
Your feet dangled down from the stool, elbows on the granite counter when Jeff turned around. “Alright,” he said, lips in a thin smile when he revealed the plate of reheated lasagna that someone dropped off in the last few days. “Smells good.”
You looked up at him with an unimpressed stare. “It looks a little disgusting.”
“It’s vegan, I think.”
“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes. “You start one all natural skincare line and people think you only eat plant-based shit.”
He let out a small laugh, set the plate down and watched as you picked up the fork. One bite--mediocre. Not exactly hot enough, but after all Jeff had done for you the last few days, you didn’t have the heart to demand he put it in for another minute.
“So--do you think it went well?”
You laughed around the food in your mouth, picked up a paper napkin and let your head tilt to the side. “As good as a funeral could be.”
The lights in your kitchen were dim and the sun had already faded behind the trees, the house quiet after people finally filed out. Friends, extended family, strangers you’d never met had flocked to Los Angeles for the funeral of your famous father.
It’d been coming from a mile away. His health declined, an obvious result of the cocaine and the cigarettes and whatever else he’d ingested regularly in the 70s. A heart attack a year ago put him on a fast track to the afterlife, but he always joked that he’d probably end up in hell.
Being in the music industry ruined him, in a way--it ruined your parents’ marriage and it ruined a lot of the relationships your father had. Blow outs and big fights that left him exiled from a lot of social circles, sometimes never speaking to people again after one bad phone call. But it was never like that with Irv.
“Well, I’ve never seen my dad cry so hard,” Jeff smiled. “He really loved him.”
Another bite of the soggy noodles and fake cheese. “I know.”
A comfortable silence, the doors off the kitchen were open, a breeze from the backyard let the southern California warmth blow through the sheer curtains when you sipped at your left over wine.
Jeff was the closest thing you had to a sibling, his family was all you had left at this point. You were tossed in the bathtub with him and his siblings as a baby, shoved into family photos and tagged along for vacations.
Being closest in age to Jeff meant people always hoped it would be the two of you that would end up together. Happily ever after or having babies of your own. But when you saw Jeff wolf down a whole pizza at his bar mitzvah, any hope of a spark between the two of you had been permanently extinguished.
His older sister was the one who told you what it meant to have sex, and after your mom died, his mom helped you pick out a dress for your Sweet Sixteen.
She was the one who talked you off the ledge when you found out you were pregnant only a few years later, she was the one who threw you both baby showers and she was the one who helped you through your divorce only six months earlier.
So now that your dad was gone, too, you wondered where you fit into their family and what your definition of family even was.
Before the thought could cross your mind, the front door was pushed open and the sound of high pitched giggles floated in from the foyer.
CeCe’s tiny voice echoed down the hall. “Uncle Jeff?”
“Is that my CeCe?” He took a few steps forward and she ran straight into his legs, he hoisted her up onto his hip when Maeve rounded the corner with Tristan in tow.
“Hi honey,” you opened an arm so your ten-year-old could fit into the side of you. She leaned her head on her shoulder. “How was ice cream?”
The easiest ploy to get them out of the house while you hosted some kind of awkward afterparty.
“Fine,” she sighed. “But Tristan said that funerals are a selfish attempt by the living to hold on to someone after they’re dead.”
You blinked a few times and looked down at her, shocked by the words and apparently, her ability to understand them. You looked over at Tristan, arched eyebrows to communicate how displeased you were.
His eyes went wide when Jeff choked down a laugh. “I didn’t--I don’t know what you’re talking about Maeve.”
You kissed Maeve on the head. “Well, Tristan is wrong about a lot of things, trust me. But you two should go get ready for bed, it’s been a long day.”
You looked over at him again--younger by two years and easily one of the most important people in your life. You met him only a year after you started your business, he had a knack for brand management and eye for design that you couldn’t pass up. He was way too sarcastic and cynical to be your regular babysitter, but Jeff and his family were basically in the receiving line beside you.
Jeff let CeCe climb down and Maeve took her by the hand as they headed for the kitchen stairs to the second floor, leaving you alone at the island with two of your closest friends.
He waited until he heard the water turn on from their bathroom sink, then whispered in Tristan’s direction. “Great idea to say that to a ten-year-old and a six-year-old after their grandpa dies.”
Tristan rolled his eyes theatrically, “she asked why so many people came and why she’d never met any of them if they loved her grandpa so much.”
“Well, you can expect a bill for their therapy in a few years,” you laughed, forking more lasagna into your mouth.
Tristan made his way over to the fridge and pulled out the glass dish, helping himself to a piece when Jeff took a seat beside you. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine,” you glanced at him sideways, suspicious about any ulterior motive he might have.
“Okay, Y/N,” Jeff laughed, Tristan eyed you from over his shoulder like he didn’t believe you. “Let me try again. How are you feeling emotionally?”
You cleared your throat and swallowed the most recent bite of dinner. “Oh, you mean cause my husband left me six months ago and my dad just died and now I’m a single mom with two fiesty daughters who just inherited a giant house aaaaaand,” you drew out the word for dramatic effect. “I’m a business owner who barely gets any sleep?”
“That’s what I was getting at, yes,” Jeff nodded and fought a smirk.
“I’m alright,” you sighed. “Tired. Kind of freaked out about what the fuck is going on in my life, but, I’ll survive. I always survive."
You knew you would--in fact, you’d been waiting for this moment for the last few weeks. When Jeff’s mom called to tell you your dad needed to be put in hospice, you prepared. You talked to Maeve and CeCe and explained it all in a way they’d understand. His life on earth is over, but we can still talk to him and visit a pretty garden to remember him.
It was a lot to deal with only a few months after your high school sweetheart turned husband admitted he’d been having an affair and moved out, you saw on Facebook that he’d since bought a motorcycle and was spending most of his time at bars along the coast. That whole fiasco was harder to explain to your children.
And now suddenly everyone wanted to make sure you were okay. Frozen dinners, offers to drive your kids to and from their extracurriculars, a lot of attention was suddenly thrust onto you and your family, as if you hadn’t always hated that growing up.
But you knew the time would come when life would settle back down. Cousins and aunts and uncles would fly home, people would stop asking how you were doing post divorce. Dust would settle and the sun would set on this chapter and frankly, it couldn’t happen soon enough.
So here you were, the funeral was over, the dinner in his honor at Jeff’s parents, the media coverage was starting to die down and life could return to normal. Or, at least, a new normal.
Your dad had been a fixture in your life--weekly dinner dates with grandpa gave you a minute to yourself after working long days and answering endless phone calls. A glass of wine on the couch or even dinner with Tristan and Zoey was a nice escape from breaking up fights or figuring out how to reattach the head of a Barbie doll after someone shoved someone into a closet and tears and screaming ensued.
“You will definitely survive,” Jeff nodded.
Tristan came and sat, forked into the lasagna and made a face when he realized how bad it was. “Is this fake cheese?”
“Unfortunately,” you nodded.
Tristan made a face and then cleared his throat. “I, for one, think this is the start of a new chapter for you. New opportunities, new love,” he smirked.
A quick retort: “Yeah, that’s obviously the first priority right now.”
“He’s right, though,” Jeff said. “You have a fresh start, a totally new chapter.”
You nodded--they were right, but easing into a new chapter felt a lot better than trying to dive right in.
“Speaking of a fresh start, you know, changing things up,” Jeff forced a grin in your direction. “Can we actually talk for a second?”
You eyed him suspiciously, put your fork down to bow out from eating the world’s worst lasagna. “Yeah?”
“I have kind of a weird favor to ask. And--I know it’s kind of bad timing, with everything going on, but--just hear me out, okay?”
Instead of replying, you watched him, lifted your brows to encourage him to continue and tread carefully.
“So I have a client who isn’t from here, he bought a house but it’s in the middle of getting renovated. There’s kind of been a lot going on, it’s a long story.”
“Okay,” you nodded, unsure where he was going with it.
“He needs a place to stay, and I was wondering if maybe he could stay here for a little.”
“Here, like, here here?” You pointed to the floor of your kitchen, an elegant upgrade from the more modest house in Woodland Hills you’d occupied before the divorce.
Along with the death of your father came the inheritance of his Bel Air estate and all of the bedrooms, the four car garage, the manicured lawn and the pool out back. Some people thought you should sell it, use the cash to make trusts for the girls or save for college.
Selling it didn’t feel right, though. It was the house he worked so hard for, the house you called home for the later half of your teen years and the place you always came back to when things got hard. So instead of putting it on the market and closing that chapter, once again, you returned to the safe haven in the hills when you didn’t know where else to turn.
“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but you have the room and it might be fun to have someone else around and--”
“I have two daughters, Jeff, I can’t just let a stranger live with us.”
“He’s not a stranger, Y/N, he’s my friend. We’re really close.”
“Who is he?” Tristan asked, waving his fork in the air to remind us that he was still present.
“Harry Styles.”
Tristan’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “The kid from the boyband?”
“No way,” you shook your head, dismissing it before you could even let his name register. “I’m not having a pop star boy band kid stay in my house.”
“Okay,” Jeff held up a hand to get Tristan to relax, then moved to point at you. “He’s 24, number one. He’s not a kid, he’s, like, only a few years younger than us.”
“Yes,” you nodded, “exactly. I don’t need a 24-year-old living with my daughters.”
“He’s not like that, though. He’s responsible and he’s a family friendly dude, and--”
“Then why can’t he live with you? Or with your parents?”
“I don’t have the room,” he said. “And my dad hates house guests.”
You rolled your eyes, it was obnoxious, but it was true. Irv hated having people stay over almost as much as he hated it when your dad beat him in golf.
Jeff took your silence as an opportunity to continue selling you on the idea. “He just finished his tour, he’s working on his second album. He’s probably going to be in the studio a lot, Y/N. Do you really think I would let some crazy party animal live with my nieces?”
Another eye roll from both you and Tristan.
“Is this like, just a few nights?” You asked.
“Like, two weeks. Tops.”
“Two weeks?!” You shook your head. “No--I can’t put them through that after all the shit that’s been going on this year. Why can’t he just stay in a hotel?”
“Cause that’s lonely and he’s a people person and--I don’t know, it might be good for you to have someone around.”
You rolled your eyes that, was it a jab at your new status as a single mom or new status as a fatherless daughter? Unsure.
Jeff stood from the counter and grabbed for his phone on the far end of the island. “Just think about it, okay? I’ve gotta run. A few weeks, built in babysitting, maybe--he’s great with kids.”
“I’ve already thought about it,” you told him, resting your chin in your hand and offering a sugary sweet smile. “No fucking way.”
“Mommy!” CeCe’s voice called from upstairs, you hoisted yourself up, ready to tuck them in and forget that Jeff had ever asked such a ludicrous question.
“I would owe you big time--it might be fun! You’ve got the room, he could be a positive male influence on the girls.” He wiggled his eyebrows at the end of his sentence--like that would really sway you.
“And I’m not that?” Tristan pulled his head back, offended.
“You’re the one who told them funerals are stupid,” Jeff said with a sarcastic smirk.
“And you’re the crazy one trying to let a stranger move in here like it’s an AirBnB,” you shot back at Jeff. “So maybe they do need a better male influence than both of you.”
“Mommy!” CeCe called again, more impatient this time.
“I’m coming!” You shouted. “You, let yourself out when you’re finished eating this terrible meal,” you pointed at Tristan and the lasagna. “And you,” you pointed at Jeff with a smirk. “Please never speak to me again.”
He was already heading for the door, keys in hand when he blew you a kiss. “Love you, see you soon!”
“Love you,” you called back, bounding up the stairs, mom mode activated.
**
A text message the next day when you were at work:
Jeff Azoff (1:43pm): 🙏😇🙏😇
You blew air from your lips, Zoey sat across from you at a conference table when you took a late lunch. She was the first friend you made when you started high school, your long time confidant aside from Tristan and Jeff and a sure bet to tell it like it is.
Now she regularly popped into the Luna offices and she loved nothing more than acting like she was a higher up at your business. She’d rather be doing that than admit she was a new mom with no clue what the next chapter of her life would look like. You had that in common.
Her two-month-old son, Benny, sat in a carrier on the ground, his eyelashes fluttered when Zoey put her feet up on the chair beside her.
“What’s the sigh for?”
“Jeff is being annoying.”
“What’d he do now?”
You looked over at her, nose deep in her phone when you took another bite of the burrito bowl she’d picked up for you. You didn’t know if it was worth it to explain it all. Zoey was excitable, never one to turn down an adventure and her aptly timed identity crisis that came with becoming a mom was sure to make her encourage bad decisions even more.
She looked up at you, suddenly aware of the wheels spinning in your mind.
“Spill it,” she instructed. She put her phone down and let out a breath, clasped her hands and waited for you to fill her in.
“He asked me to let a friend of his stay with us in my dad’s house.”
“Your house,” she corrected. “Deed’s in your name now.”
“My house,” you nodded. “And I feel weird about it.”
“Who’s the friend?”
“Some client of his,” you tried to wave it off as if the name didn’t matter.
It didn’t, really. You’d long been exposed to the rich and famous just because of the nature of your father’s work. He was one of the biggest managers in the music industry in partnership with Jeff’s dad, so you were no stranger to beautiful people with beautiful cars and beautiful homes. When Jeff took on the family business, you only grew more accustomed to it.
“So a celebrity?” she shimmied her shoulders in excitement. “Which one?”
“Harry Styles,” you said the name slowly, quietly, even though it was just the two of you in the second floor conference room and even though this was your office that you bought and you owned and you ran.
“He’s hot,” she nodded casually, less impressed than you’d expected.
“He’s also like twenty-something, so it's disgusting for you to say that.”
“Oh relax,” she dismissed your concern. “He could be your pool boy.”
Zoey--who also grew up in Southern California and spent plenty of time at your house as a kid--hadn’t yet grown so accustomed to the coming and going of celebrities. Her parents owned a florist shop in Santa Monica and in high school you had to tell her she could only come to a Britney Spears concert if she didn’t cry when you inevitably met her in the green room thanks to your dad.
“I have children,” you reminded her. “A ten-year-old who might as well be fifteen and a six-year-old who would think I literally bought her a human playmate.”
“But if he’s friends with Jeff I highly doubt he’s a serial killer,” she reasoned.
“Wow, you are completely missing the point.”
“What’s the point, then?”
“It’s weird--I can’t have a stranger move in with my kids.”
“Why not?”
“Because first their dad left us and now their grandpa died.”
“Sounds like they need a new man in their life.”
You ignored the similarity of her words with Jeff’s from the other night. “I just think it’s crazy.”
“Okay,” she sat up straight and suddenly looked like this was morphing into a business conversation. “How long?”
“Two weeks.”
“Oh my god,” she turned her palms towards the sky. “Just do it.”
“What? No!”
“It’s two weeks--it’ll take your mind off of all the shit that’s been going on, it’ll be a fun distraction for the girls. You have so much space in that house you will never even know he’s there. And you’re helping a friend.”
She wasn’t wrong: Harry could likely stay in the bedroom all the way on the other end of the hall from where the girls slept. Maeve was thrilled to get her own room in the move and CeCe would occasionally run into your room after a nightmare, so the space was a plus.
He’d have his own room, his own bathroom. Hell, he could even park in the extra garage and enter from the back of the house. Maybe you wouldn’t even notice he existed.
You sighed, tugged at your necklace when you met her gaze. “I just feel really protective over them right now. I feel like Luke ruined their sense of family and now with my dad gone--”
She stuck her tongue out in disgust at the sound of your ex’s name. “I get that--but they have you. They have Jeff and his family and they have me and Shawn and now Benny.”
You offered a small smile at her reassurance. She was right in a lot of ways. The Azoffs were as much a family to your daughters as they had been to you. Shelli and Irv were like grandparents, they offered to babysit plenty of times and they always managed to get the girls the most amazing birthday presents.
But something in you knew it wasn’t the same. You’d dreamed of giving your daughters the sense of family you never had: a mom and a dad who loved each other. One house, not two that had two different beds and sets of books or toys.
Luckily and unluckily, your ex hadn’t made a huge deal about custody. Visits here and there were outlined in your divorce papers, but at this point in time he didn’t seem the most interested in maintaining a relationship with his daughters, even though he promised way back when that he’d never leave.
Getting pregnant with him during college wasn’t planned, but he swore you’d make it work and you tied the knot only a few months before Maeve was born. Things were good at first, you always knew you’d have more than one--if only to combat your own only-child loneliness--and then CeCe came five years later when you felt a little more prepared.
“I don’t think it’s going to traumatize them, Y/N. I mean, the least you could do is meet the guy.”
You watched her for a minute, blew air from your nose in a huff before you picked up your phone.
Y/N L/N (1:56pm): Fine. I’ll meet him.
Three days later you pulled up to a cafe in Brentwood and took a deep breath in the parking lot. If he was creepy, you wouldn’t go for it. If you got even the slightest weird vibe from him, you’d ex-communicate Jeff and only go over to visit his parents with the girls when he wasn’t around.
You’d already been leaning towards just doing it, especially once Tristan got a glass of wine in you and reminded you what your dad would have said: he who helps is one who prospers.
A few sleepless nights left you staring at the ceiling and wondering if you were crazy. You just now had the chance to let life settle down and here you were, mourning the loss of your biggest supporter, trying to piece yourself back together post divorce, and considering letting a stranger move in? Grief really did do strange things to people.
But when you walked in and found them sitting at a table in the back, something clicked.
Your dad was already fond of your possible houseguest, which you only knew from overhearing previous conversations between him and Irv about how proud they were of Jeff for picking up the family business, and now it all made sense.
A small part of you--probably the stupidest part of you--wondered if there was something cosmic about it. Your dad was always one to let his artists stay in the house, if they weren’t creepy, of course. You grew up with bands rehearsing in the backyard and going to shows at the Troubadour before you were old enough to drive, and you turned out fine.
“Hi,” Harry stood, offered a hand and introduced himself after Jeff gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Harry, pleasure to meet you.” Polite, maybe a bit of a kiss ass. Your dad must have loved him.
“Y/N,” you nodded, sat down when Jeff tugged out a chair for you. “Thanks for--uh--meeting with me, I guess.”
“Thanks for maybe letting me stay at your house,” he offered a sheepish smile, held your gaze for a second when Jeff adjusted the sunglasses clipped to his shirt.
“I’m actually surprised you guys haven’t met before,” he said.
“I’ve been a little busy this year,” you reminded him with a nod. “But--nice to finally meet you.”
Harry nodded, a dimple in his left cheek ignited a tiny spark in your chest, but you pushed Zoey’s words out of your mind. Two weeks, it wasn’t a big deal. He’d be in and out and this would be a blip on the radar.
“We can order coffee or something, but Y/N, I’m assuming you have like, a whole interrogation mapped out?”
You pretended to laugh at Jeff’s joke, turned to Harry and offered a no-nonsense smile. “I have two children, I got divorced earlier this year and my dad just died. So I don’t need any drama or anything. This is temporary and I’m doing this to help out a friend. Jeff, that is, not you.”
He laughed at your clarification and nodded. “Right. This is just me living in your house. No drama. Short-term.”
“And obviously my children will be there, so no guests.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Okay I’m not that much older than you,” you said it quickly, offered a small smile when he looked a little scared.
“Sorry--no, I didn’t mean that in a rude way.”
“No ma’am,” you added a rule, pulling a laugh from both of them when you lifted another finger in the air to count them off. “No drugs or alcohol, unless it’s like a glass of wine at dinner or something,” you shrugged.
“Look,” Jeff leaned forward. “Y/N’s kids are great, she’s got a great skincare company and she’s a kickass human. And you need a place to stay, so don’t fuck this up.”
“You both have my word. No drugs, no alcohol, no guests, no ma’am,” he smirked in your direction. “I’ve lived alone for a while, so, it’ll be nice to have some roommates.”
You nodded slowly and watched him for a second. A hoodie with the name of the management firm your dad and Irv had started, a backwards baseball hat and simple Ray-Bans. You ignored the fluttering in your veins from just looking at him, your own words echoed against the walls of your skull: he’s also like twenty-something, so that’s disgusting.
This was his brand, you were sure. Something Jeff had worked hard on--the looks, the smile, the exact formula that management firms drooled over was playing out in front of you. You sipped your drink once the waiter delivered three cappuccinos. Two weeks, tops.
**
Los Angeles afternoons were meant for playing outside, which is what your daughters did best if they weren’t busy pulling each other’s hair. You had dinner on the stove--enough for five--and a knot of nerves in your stomach when the wheels of his fancy car crunched atop the gravel.
The girls ran to greet him and Jeff showed him around the house. Now, Harry sat across from you at the table, Maeve to his left with an unimpressed look on her face when you cleared your throat. “Okay, gratitude time.”
Jeff set his fork back down, a guilty look on his face to admit he’d forgotten about your pre-dinner ritual.
CeCe squirmed in her seat, let out a sigh when Maeve protested with a flutter of her eyelashes. “I don’t have anything to be thankful for,” she informed you.
“That feels a little hard to believe,” you nodded, losing patience for her attitude over the last few days. “CeCe, do you want to go?”
Your younger daughter looked up at you, scrunched her mouth and thought about it. “I don’t have anything either.”
You tried not to groan aloud. After the week you’d had and the sudden changes in your life, disciplining your daughters felt like the last thing you wanted to do, if only they’d just behave.
“I can go,” Harry lifted his hand sheepishly as if he was sitting in a classroom and not in your dining room, a dimple on his cheek when he smiled sheepishly.
“Take it away,” you motioned towards him.
“M’thankful for being here, having a place to stay--and what looks like it will be a delicious meal.” By now he had a bit of smug look on his face, maybe proud of the fact that he’d broken the ice and stepped up to the pre-dinner prompt.
“Mom’s cooking is a solid six out of ten on a good day,” Maeve looked over at him, her fork now in her hand as if she was ready to dig in.
“Okay,” you leaned in and caught her gaze. “Drop the attitude or go to your room.”
“I’m thankful for Emma,” she named her friend, her quick submission after she rolled her eyes told you she just wanted to eat and get this over with. “She warned me today that Hayley was wearing a shirt I wore last week so I think she’s copying me.”
“Okay,” you nodded, you’d accept anything at this point. “CeCe? Last chance.”
“I’m grateful for pudding.”
Harry let out a quiet laugh, you nodded and said: “Great. I’m thankful for you two,” you smiled at them, hopeful that this nightly tradition would hold some type of meaning, more than just eye rolls and pre-pubescent angst from Maeve.
Jeff looked over at the girls, “I’m thankful for my friend Harry getting to meet my other friends, CeCe and Maeve.”
“Aww,” Harry smiled, a hand clutched to his heart when he looked between them.
“Alright,” you were annoyed by how good your daughters were at turning on their charm for anyone but you. Jeff was often the fun uncle, just like your ex had been the fun dad, which left you forcing them to play this gratitude game every night after they finished their homework.
CeCe wasted no time digging into the spaghetti on her plate, leaving Jeff to ask Maeve: “so what are you going to do about Hayley?”
“I don’t know,” Maeve sighed. “She’ll die when she finds out that you’re sleeping over,” she pointed her fork at Harry.
“He’s not sleeping over,” you corrected. “He’s staying in one of the guest rooms, remember?” You’d already explained it a few times to them. A few weeks, he’s working on more music, he’ll be busy, he’s not here to play with you.
“Whatever,” Maeve said. “Maybe I’ll hold it over her.”
“Maeve,” you looked over, unsure what had gotten into her. “I thought we talked about this stuff with Hayley?”
“I know--but she just keeps annoying me,” Maeve explained.
“Dump pasta on her head,” CeCe suggested with a giggle.
“Don’t do that,” you looked at CeCe and poked her in the stomach.
“I personally am a big fan of that idea,” Jeff smiled over at CeCe. “But it’d probably be better to just forget about it. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”
“Or the sincerest form of annoying,” she retorted.
Harry let out a laugh at that, caught your gaze when you wondered how soon it’d take him to get annoyed with your kids.
They were great--smart, funny, clever, definitely witty and sometimes dramatic. But they were good kids.
You remembered how tough it was to adapt to motherhood, even though they were your own. Something told you that Harry, no matter how short his stay would be, was not in the chapter of his life that entailed finding joy in playdates and pillow fights.
But he made it through dinner, quiet but friendly and as soon as Maeve was finished, she begged him to play squishball outside before sunset.
“Squishball?” his eyebrows dipped together. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s basically just baseball but with a softer bat and a foam ball cause mom doesn’t want us to break our skulls,” Maeve informed.
“I never said break your skulls,” you argued.
“But it’s what you meant,” she shrugged.
“I would love to play,” Harry laughed, unbelievably entertained by the back and forth he’d already witnessed. They yanked him outside and set up their tiny diamond, CeCe pulled on a tutu just for flair and you and Jeff were left to handle the aftermath of a family dinner.
Jeff put the final plate into the dishwasher after a little bit and offered a hesitant smile when he turned around. “So?”
“So what? It’s been like an hour and a half of him being here.”
Their laughter from outside was audible, CeCe shrieked when Maeve made contact with the bat and sent the ball soaring into the air. “The girls clearly love him.”
“Of course they do--they love anyone for the first two hours.”
“I think he’ll be good for you guys.”
You rolled your eyes, wiped the counter with the sponge when he continued.
“And you guys will be good for him.”
This got your attention. “How so?”
“He’s a people-person, never likes being on his own too much. Some structure and responsibility is good for him.”
“So I’m babysitting him?”
“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Relax, will you? This could be a mutually beneficial thing if you let it, that’s all I’m saying.”
You didn’t read too much into it, you figured Jeff was peppering you with reassurance only to calm your nerves or quell your concerns. When he was finished helping you clean, he hugged the girls goodbye and waved over his shoulder, leaving Harry alone in your house with you and your daughters and nothing but good intentions.
You left him downstairs at first, helped CeCe brush her hair and sat on the floor when Maeve picked out her clothes for the next day: hopefully Hayley doesn’t own this dress.
When you headed back downstairs an hour later, the girls were tucked in, the lights were off, and your usual plan would have been to check your work emails if it weren’t for the dimpled guy in your living room.
He stood at the bookcase, hands clasped behind his back when you found him.
“Hi, sorry--bedtime is always a--” you paused, not even knowing the right label. “A shit show. But thanks for playing with them earlier.”
He laughed, turned around and offered a smile. “No worries--they seem like great kids.”
“They are,” you assured. “Maeve’s been a bit snarky lately but I think that’s just the whole beginning of puberty thing.” You cringed a little when the words left your mouth, wondering if it was too much information for someone who likely had cooler things to do than talk about ten-year-olds and training bras.
But he smiled, shoved his hands in his pockets when you said: let me show you around.
He’d arrived at the worst time. Homework, dinner prep, CeCe crying because Maeve finished her homework first. You didn’t have the chance to give him a tour and you figured it would be better coming from you than from Jeff, that way you could remind him of all the rules.
You showed him the ground floor first. The library, the family room, the two offices and the three different remotes that all worked different TVs or speakers or lamps. He marveled at the pictures on the wall in your dad’s old office space, he was a legend, he told you.
He climbed the stairs behind you and whispered in response when you pointed out what was behind each door. Bathroom, Maeve’s room, CeCe’s room, guest room, another bathroom, master suite, guest room, his room.
You pushed the door open and stepped aside to let him in. Gray walls, a wooden four-post king-sized bed. Throw pillows you’d picked out when you moved in a few weeks ago, a dresser to the left. He looked around and nodded. “S’perfect.”
“Good,” you said, walking over to a small linen closet in his attached bath. “Towels are in here, should be soap and stuff in the shower--had our housekeeper stock it.”
“Thanks,” he nodded again.
“I don’t know where you parked, but there’s a garage in the back that my dad used to keep some of his sports cars in--there’s definitely room and that way you don’t have to leave yours out if it rains.”
Were you talking too much? You just wanted him to feel at home or at least welcomed.
“Amazing,” he said. “Thank you.”
A repetitive answer but it didn't stop you from rambling.
“Keurig’s on the counter--creamer in the fridge. Should be plenty of food but obviously feel free to stock what you like. Except like, weed.”
“Weed doesn’t go in the fridge...” he eyed you suspiciously, the same dimple appeared on his cheek and you rolled your eyes.
“I know--I know weed doesn’t go in the fridge.”
“Just the no drug policy,” he nodded.
“Right. Am I forgetting anything?”
He shifted his weight on his feet and shrugged his shoulders, a subtle shake of his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Okay,” you nodded, one final look around the room to make sure he had what he needed. His duffle bag was already in the corner, you’d told Jeff to put it upstairs and out of the way so CeCe and Maeve didn’t get nosy.
“I just have a question actually, if that’s alright.”
“Yeah?”
“When did you move in here?”
“Uh, beginning of August, so like, almost a month ago.”
He nodded, his eyes curious despite the fact that he didn’t ask more.
“We had to put my dad in hospice, I was looking for a place anyway after,” a quick motion over your shoulder to gesture to the girls. “My divorce, so--a lot of change, but it’s been nice to be home.”
He nodded thoughtfully, the quiet of the bedroom suddenly felt heavy. “S’a beautiful house.”
“Thank you,” you looked around the room again, if only to put your eyes somewhere other than his face. “I felt shitty about redecorating it at first, but--it was a little too much of a 70s bachelor pad.”
“Leave it to Walt,” he joked.
That piqued your interest. “Did you know my dad? Like, did you spend any time with him?”
He pushed his lips out in thought but shook his head when he sat down on the bed. “Not really--met him a few times at events with Jeff, but I never spent any quality time with him.”
You nodded--he was a busy guy, popular and well respected in his industry. “He was a good person, good grandfather, too.”
Harry smiled at that. “Always heard that Irv was the balls but your dad was the heart.”
You laughed, scrunched your nose at the saying you’d heard a hundred times. The two of them were partners in crime, two peas in a pod, yet they couldn’t be more different. He spoke again before you could reply, voice soft in the sleepy house.
“I mean, if you're his daughter he obviously did something right.”
He held your gaze just long enough for you to feel something, something you pushed out of your mind so quickly that your hand was on the door knob before he could even say goodnight.
Two weeks, tops.
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Text
In Times Past
Character: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Summary: Bruce Wayne’s life doesn’t exist beyond the fake storylines he performs for the media and citizens of Gotham. Maybe the only person that can change that is someone who knew him before Batman ever even existed. 
Word Count: 8,200+ [One Shot]
Warnings: Violence, mentions of sexual harrassment
A/N: As I teased before, this was inspired by this scene from Batman Begins. 
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Bruce could sense Alfred’s tension when he walked into the kitchen that morning. The man was not one to hold back his thoughts and feelings. It was both a blessing and a curse. But Bruce sensed it was the latter today.
Before Bruce could even get a sip of coffee in, Alfred tossed the Sunday newspaper in front of him.
On the front page was a photo of Batman, far too high of a resolution for Bruce’s liking. ‘BATMAN: SAVIOR OR MENACE?’ the headline read.
“A little too close for comfort, don’t you think?” Alfred asked with a hint of sass.
However, Bruce controlled his reaction.
“Not the first time I’ve been photographed, Alfred.”
“You’re dancing with the devil, Master Wayne.”
“So, what? You want me to lay down the cape because everyone in America has the ability to take a photo on their cellphone?”
“Of course not,” Alfred retorted. Though Alfred secretly wished every day that Bruce would say goodbye to the Batman. “I just thought perhaps you should be putting a bit more effort into Bruce Wayne’s life if you really want to throw Gotham off your trail.”
Then he tossed another newspaper. This one of Bruce Wayne, the other mask he wore.
‘Bruce Wayne Lights Up the Room at Charity Ball.’
Alfred points to the date…it was 9 months ago. And it was unfortunately the last time Bruce Wayne was in the press.
“You better start creating alibis, Master Wayne, or the dark web will start to putting two and two together…”
Bruce sighed. He knew Alfred was right. But he hated all that went with what he had to do. He’d rather face off with Gotham’s deadliest criminals than go galavanting around the city as the self-absorbed and reckless playboy persona that he’d created.
“There is a birthday party for Eaton Elliot next weekend. Naturally, being old family friends, you received an invitation,” Alfred explained. “Plenty of press will be there to note your attendance. Seems rather convenient."
Bruce recognized the name. It was the older brother of Thomas Elliot, a childhood friend that he slightly lost touch with. He’d see him or his parents at various events, and things were always cordial.
But it didn’t really matter how absent or quiet Bruce was when it came to maintaining such relationships. Everyone forgave such behavior when it came to saving face with the only living member of the Wayne family. Bruce could spit in the faces of Gotham’s elite and they’d probably thank him for it.
“Black tie affair, as always,” Alfred added as he slipped the invitation to Bruce. “Perhaps you could bring a date…”
Bruce glared up at the butler. “Dates make it harder to make a quick and quiet exit, Alfred.”
“Well, maybe that’s the point, Master Wayne.”
————
Just like he was on patrol or working on an op, Bruce had prepared for every single scenario. He made a plan that would be the most effective in the shortest amount of time. He didn’t want to torture himself any longer than absolutely necessary.
When Alfred asked him again if he was planning on bringing a date, Bruce had only replied with a mischievous smirk.
Because he walked in with a girl on each arm.
It wasn’t the classy or gentlemanly thing to do. And that was exactly the point.
Conversations paused, attention was turned, and flashes went off.
Bruce Wayne made his entrance.
He carefully fell into the groove of being the spoiled brat everyone had painted him out to be. It had been awhile since he played the part, but Bruce always found it easy when he was surrounded by these kinds of people.
Bruce made sure to slightly slur his words. He would get too handsy with his dates. He would rudely interrupt people to share his own useless opinion on whatever topic was leading the conversation. He never looked waitstaff in the eye.
But now it was time for the finale.
Bruce whispered a certain suggestion into the ears of his dates.
They shared a look that proved they were both game.
The three of them stumbled into a bathroom – one out in the open that most of the guests would be steered toward.
The kissing began and clothes were quickly shifted.
There was a split moment when Bruce wondered what this would feel like for a man who actually wanted to be in this situation.
The two woman managed unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal echoing in the all-tile bathroom.
But just as they unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants, Bruce’s cellphone rang loudly.
Right on cue.
“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” Bruce whined. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” his words stumbled out. “But I just have to take this call.”
“Aww. Brucie. You’re no fun,” one of the women fussed.
But Bruce gave off enough dominate energy that they didn’t try to fight him on it.
Hair disheveled, mouth swollen and pink, lipstick stains on his skin and his pants and belt barely put back together, Bruce stumbled out of the bathroom first.
The two women didn’t bother to stay back and spread out their exits, making it very clear what had just happened – or what it looked like just happened.
It didn’t matter that Bruce didn’t actually have sex with them, every woman in Gotham wanted to say they’d shared a bed with Bruce Wayne. His two dates would lie to save face and get street cred. Bruce hated that he knew that, that it was guaranteed.
Dozens of people, who were socializing near the bathroom, stopped what they were doing and watched with judgmental looks. Some men looked jealous. Some women looked disgusted and eyed the two women up and down.
Then there was the flash of a camera.
Bingo.
Bruce wouldn’t have to linger much longer now.  
He played up being somewhat embarrassed.
But just as he put his phone to his ear to take the fake call that Alfred dialed, he saw the last person he expected.
It caused him to do a double take and freeze. 
His focus fell for a moment as they made eye contact.
Why did she have to be here?
Why did she have to be one of his witnesses?
Why did it hurt so much to see how she looked at him as if he were a stranger?
And why did she have to look so god damn beautiful?
Y/F/N Y/L/N.
The Y/L/N family were another one of Gotham’s elite – well, they used to be.
Y/N’s father was once worth billions. But being born into wealth didn’t guarantee intelligence or the skills to properly run the family business. When Bruce and Y/N were in high school, Y/N’s father filed for bankruptcy and confessed that the family was about to lose everything. With the announcement, the press also exposed Mr. Y/L/N’s many lustful affairs.
What came next was a messy and brutal divorce that the media ate up.  
Out of spite, Y/N’s mother remarried her ex-husband’s biggest competitor, maintaining her status and wealth, and making sure she still came out on top. It was the greatest revenge and even Y/N had to give her mother credit for the ingenuity of it all.
Bruce remembered how terrible it all was for Y/N, who was used as a pawn in her parents war against each other.
Having had enough of it, Y/N fled Gotham and chose to live with her eccentric great aunt in London and finished her last year of high school there.
But Y/N didn’t run away from Bruce. They emailed, texted, video chatted, called.
They had always been good friends.
The elites of Gotham always suspected the two would get married. But both Bruce and Y/N pretended to ignore such whisperings.
But when Bruce shifted his life, when he changed his life’s purpose, when he started becoming a vigilante…he stopped taking Y/N’s calls and he stopped returning them.
He told himself it was better that way. He couldn’t handle any distractions. Batman didn’t have time for personal relationships, so neither did Bruce Wayne. But more importantly, Y/N deserved someone who would prioritize her – even just as a friend.
Now Bruce needed to get actually drunk.
Putting the phone back to his ear, he broke eye contact and made a beeline for one of the bars. 
“Did you forget to tell me about the guest list, Alfred?” Bruce muttered evenly to the phone, knowing that Alfred would easily be able to hear his anger and irritation.
“How was I to know who RSVPed yes or no…” Alfred bit back. But he knew exactly who Bruce was looking at.
Bruce frowned as he ended the call abruptly and asked for a whiskey.
“I don’t know, man. She’s not my type,” a man said to his friend.
The two of them were just a foot or two away from Bruce.
“What do you mean ‘not your type’? She’s fucking hot.”
“Don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful. But she’s so stiff and uptight. Look, she’s had a resting bitch face all night.”
Bruce’s grip on his face tightened as he easily put together who they were talking about. It was moments like these that Bruce hated being lumped together with men like this.
“You’re an idiot,” the friend said with a laugh.
“Oh, yeah? Alright. If you’re so obsessed with her, why don’t you go over and talk to her?”
Bruce saw his window. 
With a sloppy haste, Bruce turned right into the two men and just happened to spill his drink over the man who was about to make a move on Y/N.
Bruce laughed and spilled another drink on the bar as he tried to grab some nearby cocktail napkins. “Gentleman, gentleman…I so dearly apologize.”
Both of them were clearly annoyed, but then realized who he was.  
Bruce gripped them by the shoulders and made sure his eyes were struggling to stay open. “I could be wrong…but it’s possible…that I have been over served.”
He broke out into a chuckle and both men forced their own laughter.
Bruce subtle glanced over to where Y/N had been standing. She’d disappeared.
He’d spared her…for now.
“I think it’s time I go home,” Bruce told them too loudly. “Do me a favor? Wish her congratulations for me?”
The two men looked at one another. “Congratulations? To who?”
Bruce frowned in confusion and looked around. “Isn’t this an engagement party?”
They tried to hide their laughter. “Wayne, this is a birthday party. For Eaton Elliot.”
Bruce’s brows shot up. “A birthday party? Look at that!”
Then he turned around, zigzagged his walk, and threw a wave over his shoulder.
But Bruce wasn’t that lucky.
Because when he made his way to the valet, he found Y/N waiting patiently with her back to him. 
Her fancy dress and gloves seemed to do nothing to help protect her from the cold night. 
Bruce could’ve left. He could’ve left her alone, gone back into the party, and made more of a fool of himself.
But next thing he knew, he was walking forward.  
“Waiting for your car?”
Y/N didn’t turn to him, but it was clear that she heard his question and recognized who it had come from. “I didn’t drive. They’re getting me a cab.”
Bruce nodded slowly even though she wasn’t looking at him.
All charm had left his body now that he had quit the act. It wasn’t going to do any favors for him. He needed to do this on his own, as his real self.
Y/N finally turned with a slight attitude and Bruce was taken aback at how she was even more beautiful up close.
“What are you doing here, Bruce?”
He smirked. “I’m here for the party, of course.” He didn’t want to play the part anymore – not with her. But it was second nature at this point.
Her lips pursed at his response.
“Leaving so soon?” He asked.
Y/N sighed. “Between you and me, I’m only here as a favor to my mother. She wouldn’t get off my back about coming. I tried to leave sooner, but…”
One of the valets hopped up the steps. “I’m sorry, Dr. Y/L/N. It can take awhile to get cabs in the area at this time of night.”
Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile and opened her mouth to say she’d walk home.
“I’ll drive her home,” Bruce spoke before she could. Then he handed the valet his ticket.
Y/N looked at him with confusion and a bit of annoyance. “You really don’t have to do that.”
Bruce just gave her a look that said he absolutely did.
Then Y/N gestured back to the party. “You’re just gonna abandon your dates?”
The way she asked made it clear that Y/N had seen Bruce stumble out of the bathroom with the two of them. He also didn’t miss how she emphasized the plural.
“They’ll be fine,” Bruce told her.
He took a step toward her. “Let me give you a ride, Y/N.”
She took in a deep breath.
She knew she needed the ride. Only an idiot would walk home at this time of night, even if the walk to her apartment was a relatively safe one for Gotham standards.
Y/N just nodded.
A minute later, an Aston Martin drove up.
Bruce offered his arm to Y/N and helped her down the stairs before opening the passenger door for her.
He handed the valet a few bills, not even noticing they were all hundreds.
“Where to?” Bruce asked her.
“Oh, umm…” Y/N quickly gave him her address.
“I know you’ve been gone awhile, but you definitely shouldn’t be walking around the streets of Gotham at night.”
Y/N scoffed. “I’m aware. I moved back awhile ago.”
“Oh. I didn’t know…”
“Yeah. Well, why would you? It’s not like you kept in touch.”
The car filled with silence.
Y/N stared out the passenger window, looking at the skyscraper lights of Gotham
It seemed Y/N had no issue with staying silent for the whole car ride.There was nothing awkward about it for her.
But Bruce knew there were things he needed to say. “I’m sorry.”
This was the last thing Y/N expected and her head whipped to him.
But Bruce kept his eyes on the road. “For disappearing like I did.”
Y/N slowly turned back to the passenger window and said nothing.
Bruce didn’t expect to win her forgiveness. He would have to deal with that. But at least he could apologize.
“Y/N.” Bruce said it ever so quietly, like he was forbidden from speaking it. “This isn’t…I’m not…” Dammit. What was he even trying to accomplish right now? “Back there–”
“Back there?” Y/N interrupted his fumbling. “Oh, you mean the threesome you had in a bathroom at a party?”
Bruce’s jaw tightened.
Everyone bought his performance. Unfortunately, even Y/N.
Bruce pulled over and Y/N realized they were at her building already.
“You can say whatever makes you feel good, Bruce. Have at it.” Then she threw open the car door.
She put her hand on the handle to help herself out.
But she hesitated.
No. She wasn’t going down without a fight.
Y/N spun around to face Bruce, his blue eyes already waiting for her.
“You used to be kind. Strong and brave. You were better than all of them.”
And for the first time, Bruce really saw the damage he had done.
“Is that boy really gone?” She searched his eyes for the answer. “What is the act and what is the truth?” She whispered. “Huh, Bruce?”
He wanted to tell her.
Bruce had never felt the urge to expose his secret ever before.
But right now? Right now, he wanted to take Y/N back to the manor, drag her down to the cave, and show her all of his secrets – every single one.
But he couldn’t. And he knew that.
Bruce kept his face reserved.
His brow furrowed for just a second as he took Y/N in. All of her. Her eyelashes. Her lips. The styling of her hair. The dip of her neck.
“You became quite the woman, Y/N.” He told her. “And a beautiful one at that.”
Y/N blinked at the statement. Her mind desperately tried to decipher the hidden message in his words, in his actions from the night. But she came up with nothing.
She wanted to say that she knew he was using flattery to divert her attention from what she wanted to know. But it was also clear that he genuinely meant what he said as well. His eyes seeming to be taking in every moment of being in her presence.
If Y/N weren’t so irritated, she probably would’ve been more taken aback by his compliment, feeling vulnerable and almost embarrassed.
There wasn’t any point in pushing.
So Y/N took in a breath. “Thank you for the ride, Bruce.”
He just nodded. Then he watched her walk to the door of her apartment building. He probably lingered a few moments too long, but he couldn’t bring himself to once again put distance between them.
————
Alfred brought down food and an espresso to the cave.
When he looked up, Y/F/N Y/L/N’s face was on the giant screen.
“Working on a case, Master Wayne?” He asked with his usual sarcasm.
Bruce ignored the question. “She attended undergrad in Metropolis and then went to grad school in New York City.”
“Yes, I can see that…considering you have her student records exploited all over the screen,” Alfred responded with a smirk. “She’s been living in Gotham again for a few years, working as a psychiatrist. Even volunteers her services at Arkham – pro bono.”
That caught Bruce’s attention. He turned away from the screen to look at Alfred.
“I found no record of that,” he argued.
“Yes. Well, her mother is rather embarrassed by it. Thinks it gives the family a bad image. She insisted Y/N’s philanthropy was kept secret, even approved the NDAs herself.”
Bruce gave him a look, utterly confused how Alfred had access to such information.
Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Never underestimate the power of gossip, Master Wayne. Most family secrets cannot be found on the dark corners of the internet.” Then he smirked. “You would gain quite the knowledge if you didn’t turn your nose up at it.”
Bruce smiled at that and turned back to the computer.
“So, I take it that it was good seeing her?” Alfred pressed.
Bruce tensed at the question. “Not entirely. I’m certain that she hates me.”
“Hates you or hates the character you’ve so carefully created?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m just Bruce Wayne to her.”
Alfred opened his mouth to say more.
“Leave it, Alfred.” Bruce cut off before he could.
“Well, it appears I’m not the one struggling with leaving it alone, Master Wayne.”
Like many of Gotham’s elites, Alfred had humored the idea that Bruce and Y/N would make a marvelous couple. Like Bruce, Y/N didn’t let money and power sway her morals or damage her good and kind heart.
Alfred had always enjoyed having her over and listening to her and Bruce’s laughter as they caused trouble around the manor and entertained themselves.
But he also saw how her departure effected Bruce, no matter how much the teenager had tried to hide it at the time.
Maybe Alfred was an optimist or a romantic, but he still believed there was a chance for the two of them. But Bruce, quite frankly, would have to get over himself and his stubbornness.
————
Bruce was looking down at the city from yet another rooftop. It had been a quiet night. And he hated nights like that. It was always ended up being the calm before a storm.
“Batman?” Alfred spoke into his comms.
“Yes.”
“It appears there’s been a breakout at Arkham. The media hasn’t caught wind of it yet. But law enforcement has already been dispatched.”
“I’m on my way,” Bruce announced as he slid down a fire escape and made his way to the batmobile that he’d hidden in the shadows of an alley.
“Master Wayne…” Alfred knew to only use codenames on comms.
Bruce tense. “What is it?”
There was hesitation from the butler. “Y/N was scheduled to work a shift there tonight…”
Bruce said nothing. But his foot pressed the gas pedal down further than necessary.
Y/N was sitting with a patient when the alarm went off.
The people that worked there called them inmates, and corrected her every time she chose not to use that title.
Harleen Quinzel had been sitting across from Y/N for almost 30 minutes when they were interrupted.
“Oh, fun!” Harley clapped and giggled as the sirens filled their ears.
Harley and Y/N had formed an interesting relationship. The criminal seemed to like her and looked forward to her visits. She never threatened Y/N or tried to manipulate her.
Y/N believes she won her over by addressing her as Dr. Quinzel and often asking her professional opinions on trends and news in their industry. 
Most people there only referred to Harley as if she was property of the Joker, no matter how many times Harley clarified that she wasn’t his anything anymore.
“Does this happen a lot?” Y/N asked her, trying to remain calm.
“Not enough, if ya ask me!” She laughed.
Y/N made the mistake of opening the door and seeing that the majority of the cells had been opened and prisoners were slowly making their way into the hallway.
“Not good,” Y/N muttered.
“Don’t worry, doc. I’ll protect ya! Us gals gotta stick together.” Harley said from behind her shoulder.
Y/N whipped around and looked at her and then at the table she’d been sitting at. “Dr. Quinzel! How did you get out of your restraints?”
“Oh, I’ve always been able to. I just leave ‘em on to be polite.”
Y/N sighed. No one had explained any sort of protocol for such a situation.
“Where the fuck are all the guards?” Y/N asked.
Suddenly the lights shut off.
“Yippy!” Harley cheered.
Y/N turned to her and softly grabbed her shoulder, but gave her an insistent look. “Harley, we need to get somewhere safe.”
Her face did dip to serious for a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me. But you’re right. Not everyone in here appreciates a shrink…”
To her surprise, Harley starts pulling her through the darkness with a purpose.
Y/N had no idea where she was planning on taking her. It seemed all the doors were in lock-down mode, leaving her stranded. If she survived tonight, she’d definitely be bringing that up to the board.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Y/N yelped at the sound.
Someone had either gotten a hold of a gun or security guards were opening fire.
Either way, it caused chaos to erupt.
Suddenly the dark hallways were being filled with a stampede of prisoners. Either they wanted to take down the guard who was shooting or they were getting an adrenaline rush at the concept of their peers attacking their wardens.
The crowd ripped the two women apart. Y/N was shoved up against the wall and her head slammed against the cement.
Y/N swore under her breath from the pain.
“Is that…No, it can’t be…”
A voice called out over the madness.
A chill went up Y/N’s spine. She’d know that voice anywhere.
The Joker.
He wasn’t one of her patients. All researchers and doctors were forbidden to speak with him – especially after what happened with Harley.
But that didn’t stop the Joker from knowing who Y/N was. He whined and whined about feeling left out. “All my pals get to chat with her and all I get to do is look!”
Now, Joker was free from him isolation.
Y/N suspected he was behind the breakout.
And he was going to make a slight detour. A detour that was doing whatever the hell he wanted to with Dr. Y/L/N.
Y/N didn’t even bother hiding her fear. With a new found strength and endurance, she started shoving her way through the mob.
“I hear you and my pumpkin’ pie have gotten close.” Then his smile dropped. “Too close, if ya ask me.”
Y/N ignored him as another prisoner shoved into her shoulder.
“I don’t appreciate you putting ideas in her head!”
Y/N stopped, realizing she had miscalculated her escape and had come to a dead end.
So she slowly turned around to face him, putting her back to the wall. “And what ideas are those?”
“Independence. Self respect. A life beyond crime and incarceration,” he spat.
Y/N realized he had his goonies flanking him, only making her odds that much worse.
“Those aren’t ideas. They’re a reality, a possible future,” she defended.
Joker didn’t like that answer one bit. He threw himself against her, once again slamming Y/N into the wall.
He gripped her chin roughly and smiled with his yellow teeth. “You know…she’s not the only doctor I’d like to break in. And in more ways than one, if you catch my drift,” he giggled.
Then his eyes raked over her body, up and down. His hands slid down her hips and the side of her legs until they got to the hem of her pencil skirt.
Y/N shoved him away with all of her strength. 
But that earned her a slap across the face from him.
Joker gripped her waist tightly pressing her between the wall and his body. “I’m in charge now, doc. And I’ve got a few lessons to teach you.”
His hands grabbed at the buttons of her blouse and with one jerk, he ripped open her her blouse.
But before he could go any further, a few of his lackeys cried out in pain. 
Y/N swore she heard the sound of objects whipping through the darkness. 
She didn’t want to let herself feel any relief. But she hoped Harley had made her way back to her. She’d probably pack an even heavier punch once she realized Y/N needed protecting from her asshole ex.
But when Joker turned around and Y/N followed his gaze, Harley was nowhere to be found.
Yet three men were on the ground, unconscious.
“Well, well, well,” Joker muttered in amusement. “Has Batsy come out to play?”
Next thing Y/N saw was a shadow dropping down out of nowhere and taking out even more of Joker’s men.
Joker seemed to be prepared for such an interruption. Because he grabbed a knife from somewhere hidden on his body and ripped Y/N off the wall. He pressed Y/N’s back to his chest and put the tip of his knife to her throat.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Joker sang.
To Y/N’s shock, Batman stepped into what little light was in the hallway.
“Long time, no see!” Joker screamed so loudly that Y/N flinched. “Did you miss me, Batsy? And you came all this way to see little old me?! How very sweet!”
“Your attempted escape was a failure,” Batman stated. “There’s nowhere for you to go. All the exits are blocked. Arkham has been contained.”
“What a shame! I really felt this one was gonna work!” Joker laughed.
Batman took a step toward him. “It’s over, Joker.”
“You’re probably right,” Joker shrugged. “But I really wanted to have some fun with doc here. So, if you could give us some privacy.”
Batman’s eyes flickered to Y/N’s for a brief moment. “Let her go,” he warned.
“How about…no?” Joker laughed.
Just as Batman was about to make his move, Y/N grabbed the wrist of Joker’s arm that held the knife. She twisted it and dived in such a succinct motion that it was obvious Y/N had been trained.
Whipping herself out of Joker’s grip, she twisted Joker’s arm so roughly and quickly behind his back that he had no choice but to drop his knife from the pain.
Then Y/N was now facing him, and with one swift swing of her leg, she kicked him right in the groan.
Batman saw his opening and rushed forward, cuffing Joker in place.
While Batman neutralized him, Y/N stumbled for the knife that Joker had dropped, still not feeling safe and out of danger.
She looked around, realizing that the police had filtered in and apprehended all the escaped prisoners. Some were already locked back into their cells. Other’s were in handcuffs with guns being pointed at them in warning.
“Dr. Y/L/N,” his voice made her whip back around.
How the hell did Batman know her name?
She squinted wearily at him.
“You can drop the knife,” Batman told her quietly.
Y/N blinked and looked down at her hand, having forgotten that she even grabbed the knife. And she now had a vice-like grip on it.
Her hands were shaking when she dropped the knife and the clatter echoed in the hallway.
She eyed the Joker, not trusting any sort of weapon to be in his vicinity, despite being handcuffed now.
“He’s not going anywhere,” Batman noted, as if he could read her mind and hear the concerns she was thinking.
Police officers surrounded them now.
“Until next time, doc!” Joker sang loudly.
Batman stepped between him and Y/N, shielding her from even being seen by the lunatic.
Y/N eyed him, wondering if he did that on purpose.
“This way,” he directed lowly as he led her out of the hallway.
Y/N was surprised when he escorted her all the way out of the building.
Wasn’t this supposed to be Gotham’s Dark Knight? A disappearing act? An urban legend that some people still didn’t believe in?
When they got outside, there were even more officers. The night was flickering blue and red from all the patrol car’s lights still being on.
Commissioner Gordon was having a field day with Arkham’s warden, yelling at him about lack of protocol and no protection for the volunteers and workers that had gotten caught in the crossfire.
But finally, the reality of what just happened was starting to set in for Y/N. And she realized that her entire body was shaking.
All of a sudden, a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.
She looked up to see that Batman had draped it over her. When and where he’d grabbed it, she had no clue. But the warmth was helping, so she didn’t question it.
“Thank you…for saving me back there.”
Was that a smirk on his lips? Was Batman amused by her?
Why was it so comforting when he was a mere stranger?
And his eyes, even when they were surrounded by a cowl and dark paint, they still felt familiar. Y/N had a similar feeling to deja vu.
“Looked like you had it handled,” he replied.
“Oh, I definitely didn’t. But thank god for those self-defense classes.”
They looked into each other’s eyes for a second.
“Make sure you get checked out by the paramedics,” he told her gently, but insistent.
It was far too gentle for his Batman alter ego. But she caught how it sounded like it personally mattered to him.
Y/N looked behind her, where the ambulance was.
But when she turned back around, Batman was gone.
Next thing Y/N knew, she was being surrounded by two paramedics and Commissioner Gordon who was careful not to push her by asking too many questions at once.
“Does he always do that?” She asked him in a daze.
“Do what?” Gordon asked.
“Disappear like that?”
Gordon smiled and nodded. “Annoying, isn’t it?”
———
“What’s the gossip of the privileged this week?” Bruce asked Alfred at breakfast a few days after the outbreak.
“Something specific you’re looking for, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked as he poured Bruce a big mug of coffee.
Bruce glared at him, knowing he was playing coy with him.
But he put his pride aside. “How is she doing?”
Alfred took pity on him. “She took some time off work. But seems to be handling it better than expected. Makes quite a bit of sense, doesn’t it? Her being psychiatrist and all.”
Bruce just nodded with a dazed look.
“You could always see for yourself…” Alfred added.
Bruce snapped out of his daze and looked up him questioningly.
“You could go see her,” Alfred confirmed.
“Alfred, don’t you start.”
“Start what, Master Wayne? Pushing you to form any sort of relationship?”
Bruce sighed and got up from the breakfast nook. He didn’t want to fight with him, so he’d made his exit before that happened.
“Batman has plenty of friends,” Alfred stopped him. “But what about Bruce Wayne, hmm? Who are his friends?”
“You saying we’re not friends, Alfred?”
“I’m all you’ve got, Master Wayne. And that’s my point.”
Before the discussion could go on any further, the doorbell rang.
The two men shared a look. 
No one stopped by the manor.
Alfred made his way over.
Bruce figured he’d wait where he was. But the front entrance was too far away from him to overhear any conversation.
A few minutes later, Alfred walked in with an unreadable expression.
“Dr. Y/L/N is here, Master Wayne. She is waiting for you in the drawing room.”
Bruce opened his mouth to tell him to make an excuse and get her to leave. But Alfred was already disappearing, making it clear that he would do no such thing for him.
When Bruce walked into the drawing room, he found Y/N’s back to him as she looked at the family heirlooms and trinkets that were displayed on the shelved.
She was dressed casually, which caught Bruce off guard since he’d only see her in formal wear and professional outfits since their reunion. Her hair was in a messy bun and she didn’t appear to be wearing much makeup, if any at all.
“Hi,” he greeted softly, making her quickly turn around.
“Hi,” she replied.
Bruce stepped further into the room. But neither of them moved to sit in any of the many seats that surrounded them.
“I heard what happened. How are you doing?” He asked.
She nodded and shrugged. “Alright.”
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Bruce admitted.
Y/N ignored his comment and her eyes went around the room. “I missed this place,” she thought aloud. Then her eyes fell back to his, softening. “I missed you.”
Bruce was taken aback from her confession. Seeing as the last time they were together, she was rather blunt about how disgusted and disappointed in him she was.
The energy between them felt so different than last time.
To his surprise, Y/N stepped toward him. And she didn’t stop until she was at a proximity that most would call rather intimate.
There was a voice in the back of Bruce’s mind, urging him to close the last bit of distance and place his lips on hers. But he managed to ignore it. That didn’t stop his heart from beating faster, though.
Y/N stared into his eyes for a few seconds, almost like she was searching for something.
“I have something that belongs to you…”
Bruce waited, not sure what she could possibly have to give him.
But then she pulled out one of his batarangs from her coat pocket, offering it to him.
She had found it embedded in the wall when she had gone back down to grab her personal belongings that night. 
Bruce kept his face composed. “I’m not sure I understand.” 
But he grabbed it from her anyways.
“He’s you,” she whispered. “Or I guess…you’re him.”
Bruce let out a breath, “Y/N…”
She took step away from him. “Don’t lie to me, Bruce.”
So he shut his mouth and said nothing instead.
“I’ve been doing some research. Things started lining up,” Y/N explained. “The first Batman sightings were right around when we stopped talking. The more Batman was in the press, the less Bruce Wayne was. And when he was, it was never positive – like it was meant to be a distraction.”
Her eyes went sad. “I never understood how the boy I used to love could grow into the man I’m so disappointed in. It never made sense.” She paused. “But when you wonder if the man himself is the mask, it all fits.”
“I’m sorry.” Bruce hung his head slightly. “I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you.”
“I’d never share your secret.”
“I know,” he answered instantly.
Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. Her eyes welled with tears. “Bruce…living like this has its consequences.”
Bruce said nothing.
She stepped forward and grabbed his hand. “You can’t change the world on your own. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Y/N wasn’t giving him advice. She was offering him something.  
Her trust.
Her secrecy.
Her love.
He shook his head, but gripped her hand tightly. “You would just end up in the shadows with me. And I…I can’t do that to you.”
“I’m stronger than you think,” Y/N defended.
“I’ve always known how strong you are, Y/N.” His jaw tightened at even the thought of being selfish. “You deserve more than what I can give. Gotham will always come first. That’s the sacrifice I made. That’s what is required. I can’t be what you need.”
Y/N studied his face, knowing that there would be no winning with him.
She nodded once, not even slightly hiding her heartbreak and disappointment.
Then she stepped closer and gave him a slow kiss on the cheek.
“It’s not a one time offer, Bruce.”
Bruce couldn’t move a muscle. He was rooted in place.
He heard Y/N have a short conversation with Alfred, then the door closed, and she was gone again.
———
Bruce Wayne was a fool.
Alfred could probably make a list, in seconds, with a hundred reasons why.
But, no, Bruce Wayne was a fool for believing Y/N would give up so easily.
Two weeks later, Y/N was at Wayne Manor again.
Bruce knew something was going on when Alfred didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.
In one of her arms was popcorn seeds, twizzlers, sour patch kids, and chocolate covered pretzels. In the other arm was a case of beer.
Y/N barely said hi to Bruce as Alfred helped her out of her coat and took the things out of her grasp so she was no longer struggling to hold it all.
“I’m here to use your theater,” she announced.
And with that, she walked right past Bruce like she owned the place.
Bruce looked at Alfred and silently asked, ‘What the hell is going on?’
“I believe you have a guest to entertain, Master Wayne.” Then he looked at the items in his hand. “And I believe I have some popcorn to make.”
Bruce still didn’t move.
“You successfully closed yet another case last night, it’s Friday night, and you have a beautiful woman who decided she wants to spend her time with you. Best you don’t keep her waiting, Master Wayne.”
Bruce narrowed his gaze as if telling Alfred they’d discuss this matter at another time.
“I presume you shouldn’t go empty handed,” Alfred added quickly and handed Bruce two beers from the case in his arms.
Bruce chuckled, but started walking away. “I’m surprised you even let this stuff in the house, Alfred.”
When Bruce reached the theater, Y/N had already started a movie.
He watched her a for a moment before she could realize he'd joined her. 
Y/N looked like she belonged there. Even after all this time apart, she just burrowed herself a cozy nook in Bruce’s life.
It was something she had been able to do even when they were kids. When Bruce had his mood swings or his depressive episodes, Y/N didn’t scare. She just found her way to stay at his side without upsetting him further.
Bruce grabbed the seat to the left of hers.
They weren’t really seats, more like small beds. A dozen were placed in the theater.
A couple could easily share one, but Bruce wasn’t planning on even approaching that fine line.
When Bruce sat down, he didn’t look at Y/N. But she gave a shy smile at his joining.
It was a long movie – almost a 3 hour run time.
And Y/N almost made it.
Without only 30 minutes left, Y/N had fallen asleep. Meaning Bruce’s attention was now taken from the movie.
He got up and grabbed one of the many blankets in the trunk hidden in the corner and placed it carefully over her, before silently leaving.
This was not a one time thing.
These type of visits continued.
Bruce knew Y/N and Alfred had to be in cahoots together. 
Y/N seemed to always come to the manor when Bruce needed her most. 
Alfred would force Bruce out of the cave and moments later, the doorbell would be ringing.
On the bad nights, she wouldn’t make him talk. She wouldn’t ask questions or try to make him magically feel better. Sometimes she would talk – mostly about mundane things. She’d tell Bruce about her day or how her neighbor always left baked goods at her door or about the new show she started watching. Sometimes she wouldn’t say anything at all, just sit there silently and make sure he wasn’t alone.
Sometimes she would bring coffee and pastries.
Sometimes Bruce would just walk into the library and find her reading.
Sometimes she would sit and chat with Alfred as if he was the reason she was visiting, and not Bruce.
Bruce couldn’t sleep one night. Nothing specific was causing his insomnia. Just the overall weight of being so many people.
It was 3AM when Y/N texted him to open the door for her because she didn’t want to wake Alfred.
When Bruce did so, Y/N was standing on the other door in sandals and a slightly transparent coverup that barely showed the outline of the bathing suit underneath.
He said nothing, but his face clearly showed that he wanted to know why the hell she was there in the middle of the night.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Y/N told him quietly. Then she shrugged a bit,“I decided I wanted to go for a swim."
Whether she was lying for his benefit, Bruce wasn’t sure. But he followed her to the indoor swimming pool like a sailor would follow a siren.
Without hesitation, Y/N kicked her sandals off and tossed her coverup on the nearest chair. And the next second, she was diving into the pool.
Bruce smirked at her nonchalance, but made sure to hide it when she breached the surface once again.
“Doesn’t your apartment building have its won pool?” He asked.
Y/N smiled and tilted her head back to get her hair wet again and out of her face. “They put too much chlorine in it.”
Bruce crossed his arms, “I see.”
“Coming in?” She asked teasingly.
He shook his head.
“At least keep me company,” she requested.
Bruce glared playfully at her, knowing the game she was playing.
But he finally sighed and nodded.
He was in cotton shorts and a t-shirt. But he decided to sit on the edge of the pool and dip his feet in.
He watched as she swam around, looking as natural in the water as a mermaid. She had always loved swimming as a kid and it appeared not much had changed.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He finally decided to break the silence.
Y/N swam to him and crossed her arms on the edge of the pool to rest and tilted her head to look at him.
She shrugged, “The usual: stress, nightmares, insomnia, too much caffeine.”
 Bruce’s concern spiked instantly. “Nightmares about what?”
She watched him for a moment, seeing how quickly her subtle comment triggered him.
“You’re not the only person who’s seen fucked up things, Bruce.”
An hour later, Y/N asked for a towel.
When she climbed out, she was taken aback by Bruce wrapping it around her shoulders and rubbing her down gently. It was innocent, but subtly intimate.
As their eyes locked for a prolonged time, and he seemed to realize what he’d done accidentally.
Y/N cleared her throat. “I should head home and let you try to get some sleep.”
“You could stay,” he offered. “I mean, we have plenty of bedrooms here,” he quickly added and saved himself a bit.
“Is that…what you want?” Y/N asked slowly.
Bruce knew what she was trying to ask. He didn’t trust himself to answer the way he should, so he didn’t answer.
“Let me drive you home,” he asked as they left the indoor pool and started toward the front entrance.
Y/N ignored the request until they were at the door. She turned to face him with a smug look, “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself. Thank you.”
She hesitated before kissing him on the cheek. “Get some sleep, Bruce.”
————
Months after Y/N’s visits started, Bruce was doing some research for a case on his tablet as he ate dinner.
“Margaret Caulfield’s engagement party is tonight,” Alfred broke the silence of the manor as he took Bruce’s finished plate.
Bruce looked confused on why he was supposed to care.
“Y/N will be there,” Alfred added.
But Bruce still didn’t understand what he was trying to say.
“Master Wayne, when you attend all those sufferable parties, what is the first question people ask you?”
Bruce thought for a moment. “When I plan on settling down, I guess.”
“Now imagine that, but magnified by about 100…and that is what Y/N’s experience is at those same parties. That young woman is one of the brightest people in Gotham and all those people care about is who will put a silly ring on her finger.”
Bruce leaned back in his chair, now understanding what Alfred was getting at. “I’m not her boyfriend, Alfred.”
“And you’ve made damn sure of that,” Alfred said a little too harshly.
Bruce watched him carefully.
“Y/N has fought off every one of your attempts to be a miserable recluse.”
Bruce opened his mouth.
“And don’t you dare try and tell me her efforts are wasted,” Alfred cut him off. “I’ve seen a change in you. And she has asked for absolutely nothing in return. She’d never ask you to pick her over Batman. Though she bloody well should!”
He wasn’t done.
“You’re not living, Master Wayne. And I won’t apologize for wanting more for you.”
Bruce just sat there and took it.
Alfred took in a breath, calming himself down. “There’s a suit waiting for you in your bedroom. I’ve decided I’m going for a evening walk.”
——————
Y/N didn’t know how many more champagnes she’d have to shrug to start feeling the buzz she so desperately needed.
Not even an hour of being at the party and she’s already been asked 15 times if she was seeing anyone. And when she answered no, half of those ended in them trying to set her up with someone.
As Y/N was trying to think of an excuse to escape, an old family friend approached her – a friend of her grandma’s unfortunately.
“Y/N, dear, let me see those hands!”
Y/N wanted to roll her eyes and snap, but she did as requested.
“No ring yet,” the woman teased, but she was also genuinely disappointed.
“That would be my fault, actually.” A voice said behind Y/N before she felt a hand on her lower back.
“Oh, Mr. Wayne, how nice of you to come!” The woman beamed. “Now, Y/N, why wouldn’t you tell anyone that you and Bruce are an item?”
“My fault again,” Bruce chuckled, “I’ve always enjoyed a good secret.”
Before she could ask more, Bruce smiled politely. “If you could excuse us for a moment.”
He steered Y/N to a private area of the party.
“What are you doing?” Y/N hissed at him. “The press are gonna have a field day. You and I will be every headline tomorrow.”
He smiled at her frantic concern.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m serious!”
Bruce captured her lips, silencing any further panic from her.
Y/N was completely caught off guard, but he wasn’t letting her go so easily. And soon, her hand went to the back of his head and she kissed him back. 
Damn all the people who were probably watching them.
When Bruce finally let her pull away, he smirked at her dazed look and cupped her cheek. 
She matched his smirk.
But then reality set in like a splash of cold water and she frowned.
“Am I – Is this your new cover?” She asked shakily, so scared that the answer was ‘yes.’
She could tolerate being Bruce’s friend for the rest of her life. But she wouldn’t survive being used in such a way. She couldn’t live in a fake relationship with a man she actually loved. She’d rather watch his sloppy persona with girls hanging off of him.
“No cover-up,” he muttered to her. “Just me and you – the real me.”
-----------------------------------------------------
I worked so hard on this 😩  Please let me know your thoughts. 
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kusagrasskusa · 3 years
Text
Michael Myers X Murderer! Reader - Headcannons - "Death Card"
Also, thank you (Wattpad Person) for requesting this :) I know your the last request I got, so I prolly should have done someone else's request first, but your's was just easiest to find. (Also, I have it bad for Michael so )
Have fun reading this! I'm writing this on my laptop instead of computer so sorry if the formatting turns out worse than usual :/
Also...someone made fun of me for putting, "eight," and, "11," in the same sentence. I guess not many people know this, but anything under ten is supposed to be written out unless their fractions or decimals.
By the way, these basically aren't headcannons lol. It's just me wanting to write out a story but not being good enough to so I just write it down in simpler terms.
Enjoy~
Not only is Y/N just another famous murder who casually takes the lives of people, but she's amazing at hiding
..........until-
Y/N was an abusive home after her parents died when she was a toddler. Her aunt and uncle neglected her but karma came back at them when their car fell off a bridge, causing the pair to drown. The downside for the young Y/N was that she was put into a foster institution. And we all know by now that foster care are full of fights, drugs, weed, alcohol, and shitty employees.
As a young girl entering such a bad place, she was always a target. You know that sense of fear, worthlessness, and loneliness fucked with her head to where she felt lashing out felt great.
She would be unable to stop herself as she plunged a sharp object in and out of this prick that held her down for so long. But once she heard voices from other kids, she ran.
The story made headlines as the next big attack from yet another child. That's right, next. There was someone who inspired her to do what she did.
Of course, she always had that memory in the back of her head. That boy's violent actions filled her with immeasurable awe when she saw the news. However, she always had something more important to think about.
With so much dissatisfaction with her past, she could only fill herself up with adding things on to her in the present, and more in the future.
Y/N would steal Poker cards from people and always use the Ace of Spades to mark her kills by sliding the card into a wound. After all, betting games were the highlight of her day in the foster institution. She was always so good at it that it became her pride.
All these headlines and stories about how evil she is became such a big deal in her head. Such an overwhelming feeling of adrenaline every time she heard the name people would call her.
"The Death Card," is another name for Ace of Spades in most English countries. It was the perfect fit for Y/N.
(Ya'll, I feel like a fucking genius for coming up with that lol)
She was so good at hiding, truly. Kill someone in Kentucky, then move to Missouri. Killing someone there and move to Georgia, and so on.
Only in her hometown was she caught.
Michael was the one who started it all for her, as their same age and hometown made her feel connected to him, and finally where he got caught would be the same place she did.
14 years of hiding and killing led her to meeting him
Michael spent these 14 years sitting in complete silence. No talking, no humming, no singing, nothing. It's like he was always in his own world of thought, too busy in his imagination to interact with the real world.
Of course, there was times when he did pay attention to what's around him.
The news was the only thing he'd really pay close attention to. After all, what if something happens to Haddonfield while's he's stuck in there, and that causes plenty of people he once knew to move away?
But per usual, there was nothing about it
But there was something that caught his attention even by a little
"After 14 years, the notorious Death Card or Card of Death has finally been caught," says the Haddonfield Police Department. "While we're unsure of her motives thus far, we have been able to learn of who she is. Y/N L/N made the headlines once in 1980 at the age of eight as one of America's biggest crime cases with children as the culprit, having brutally stabbed a 15 year old boy. This happened just two years after the Michael Myers case, when a six year old boy stabbed his older sister in 1978. All else the HPD are saying is that her frantic behavior may lead her to a mental institution rather than letting her make legal decisions in court."
Michael paid attention to all the details of the report. For this report to be made about Haddonfield, chances are they'll be meeting each other soon.
The Death Card was a violent killer Michael heard of plenty of times however he never paid close attention to.
(Holy shit these are just headcannons so why am I writing long paragraphs)
He had to say, hearing about her violent stabbings were the highlight of his week. Even if he never felt strong about hearing other people having fun with their lives like she was, he couldn't help but almost feel pushed to do what she is. Living freely and ending those who cross his path...
Saying he was jealous or inspired would be a stretch though
He would spend his days painting paper mache masks while thinking of doing what she was for sure but he hated how she would show off by using those cards as if she didn't have a goal in mind, which was annoying to him. If you have nothing to live for, then kill yourself was his mindset.
Michael watched as Y/N stepped into court. He know hundreds- no thousands- of people watched as this woman of pure evil stepped into the courtroom. Her H/C hair flowed as she walked passed everyone, glaring at them with her cold E/C eyes.
A look of slight intrigue replaced his normal dull expression as he watched the girl stand up before the judge, smiling sassily at the cameras as to tell them to fuck off. Michael can recognize that look of intrusion on her face as she was practically interrogated. Clearly, she hated it there.
He watched contently as all the mystery surrounding the Card of Death was revealed to everyone in this world. Days went by of this court case before finally, she pled insanity. After all, she was known to have some underlying mental conditions as she remained so calm when talking about the varies of ways she would kill.
It's easy to see that many felt bad for the girl. Such trauma growing up led to the creation of this unfortunate human. But Michael? He didn't feel bad at all.
He never was sad or truly sympathetic however...he did feel pity. Somewhere in his soulless eyes held pity for this sad, sad girl he was soon to meet. Not exactly sympathy, but simply pity. And with that came respect.
The day that Y/N stepped foot into those doors was the day the two would meet for the very first times. Over 63 counts of first degree murder in 14 years led to the meeting of these two serial killers. At the time, they were both only 20.
Tables were scattered across the room with people talking or simply sitting alone by themselves on them. There was TV in a few different places around the room and board games in a couple of shelves. In the back of the large room was windows that showed the outside that felt so out of reach forever.
As the metal doors slammed behind her, she felt eyes on her immediately. Y/N slowly scanned the room as she gulped back the intense fear gathering in her stomach. Her lips parted open as she began to breath heavily and press her back on those metal doors.
She was so trapped and scared when she first entered that foster institution. She couldn't help but think of karma when her aunt would hurt her so badly for those five years before she died. But 63 murders are so much worse, so what could karma do to her to balance her evil deeds with punishment?
Laughter and giggled filled her ears as she shut her eyes tightly and covered her face with her arms. Her vision was going blurry; she was having a panic attack. Tears fell from her eyes as she whimpered quietly to herself.
She may be the Card of Death however she never had to be in a large group of people in so long.
Her body jerked as she was suddenly pulled away from those metal doors. She cried out when she saw a large man, around 6'7 (204cm), pull her away.
In just a few seconds, she was pulled to a metal table and forced to sit as the large man stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.
Her body tensed unimaginably as they remained still for a few seconds, quiet aside from the occasional sobs of Y/N.
Then suddenly, the pressure on her shoulders disappeared. She heard nothing until the sound of creaking from the seat in front of her interrupted.
Y/N felt eyes on her. They were so intense over her.
A minute passed before her own eyes fluttered open, meeting the man's eyes in front of her.
A shiver ran down her spine when she came face to face with stone cold blue eyes that seemed to hold nothing within them. No light, no soul, and no sympathy. Not only that, but a orange mask made of paper mache covered the rest of his face as well.
The man tilted his head before lifting his hand onto the table, sliding something over to her. Y/N looked down at what he gave her.
"Don't speak. Write."
Michael had given her a paper with these words. His handwriting was hard to read considering he nearly never wrote anything so it took a moment before Y/N got the message. When she did, she looked back up at the man and nodded just a little so it was barely recognizable.
Obviously this conversation was to be secretive so she knew to barely show signs of interactions. The camera couldn't pick up on such a small nod to what evidence is there of them even interacting?
Michael slid the paper back to him and brought a pencil to the paper after erasing the original text. When he slid it back to her, it read, "Don't let anyone know what we say Y/N. They watch everything." When Y/N looked back up at him, she saw him dart his eyes from something behind her to something on the wall between them. She turned her head slightly to the side, noticing a camera on the wall. So she understood.
Michael had dropped on the pencil on the table, meaning it was her turn to reply. She erased the previous text before writing down, "Who are you? How do you know me?" When she slid it back, Michael took the pencil in his hand again.
"Michael Myers. I was a well known case two years before you. We heard a lot about you on TV."
"As in the boy who killed his sister at the age of six?"
"Yes. You know me?"
Y/N's eyes widened slightly as she frantically wrote down a reply. Without even noticing, the knot in her stomach had completely disappeared without a trace.
"I remember seeing your case. I thought about everyday."
Michael didn't reply immediately after reading. Instead, he waited a few minutes and stared down at the table. A look of confusion remained on Y/N's features as she impatiently waited. Then suddenly, Michael erased what was on the paper and simply drew a masked person looking somewhat like himself with a knife in his hand. He drew dead stick figures around it with blood splattering everywhere.
Michael knew that this picture would cover up all the eraser marks and writings that were still slightly visible. So when the guard that walked up behind Y/N without her knowing popped up, he didn't see any text.
Of course, this did lead to the paper being taken away. Then minutes after that, both of the pair was taken away.
If there's one thing as scary as analyzing The Shape and caring for him, it's that person who cares and analyzes him finding him interacting with someone else for the first time.
Whenever Y/N got sat down in her cell, she knew what was about to happen. She was sat down in her bed as a man she'd never seen before sat down in the chair that came with her little desk in her cell with a guard next to him.
Have you ever spoken to Michael? Are you related to him? How do you know him? How does he know you? Have you ever met his family? Why did he interact to you? Why was he drawing things for you? Does he like you? Does he hate you? Did he write to you? Did you hear him talk?
So many questions were asked by this Dr Loomis in such short amount of time. "No, no, I don't, no, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, no, no," and mostly these were your responses. No matter how many times Loomis asked, you dully replied.
You simply said he sat you down and you began to draw together, both filling in a piece of the drawing together.
And eventually, you got out.
Another day went by of "talking" to Michael.
And another.
And another.
The talks were nice and casual. What goes on in the asylum? What goes on in the outside? Who should I avoid? What's the reputation of the HPD?
Do you want to escape?
But it was only a matter of time before finally the two were friends.
Y/N was kinda just in her cell one night in bed. Then she just gasped and widened her eyes. Wait, are we friends? We're friends, right!
Michael already knew of their friendship like two weeks before she did. It felt so...wrong for him. He had always been alone and silent. How could someone like her even be so likeable to him? He didn't really understand it but he knew he hated it.
One day, the two were writing to each other per usual. Michael unintentionally added a pun in one of his comments, causing Y/N to giggle. Michael cocked his head to the side in confusion, strangely feeling heat rise his face and his heart speed up. It was air conditioned so he suspected he may have gotten sick.
Whenever the two had to go back to their cells, that feeling suddenly disappeared. Then it hit him. Oh fuck-
Hell, only a week later did Y/N feel herself experiencing the same symptoms. Michael notices that Y/N would shake and fidget a lot when they interacted, making him wonder of she was cold. As a friend, it was only right for him to sit next to her and hold her close to keep her warm, right? Y/N's face went red and damn that was embarrassing. But of course, that didn't mean Y/N wouldn't hug him back.
Eventually the two were basically cuddling. The two hugging each other warmly as Y/N rested her head on his chest, struggling to stay awake as they got more comfortable by the second.
But of course, Dr Loomis caught eye of that.
The doctor had been looking deep into al the interactions these two evil beings have had. They act so casual, so normal with each other, surely more than just drawing is happening between them, right?
The doctor had pulled them into his office separately to interrogate them. While Y/N bluntly answered his questions to make him just shut up as quickly as possible, she couldn't help but think to herself. She knows that she and Michael are mentally ill, but he should definitely be fixed by now. He's smart and creative and can casually talk to people, so it's like the only thing keeping him here is that the doctors are so ill-equipped that they can't make the necessary breakthrough to save him.
Of course, just a month later, another incident happened like this. Y/N was having a bad migraine so Michael got her to just sit down and wait for him during lunch. He brought over two trays of food for them and was sure to trade with Y/N so she can eat the things she likes and he could have the things she dislikes.
Another time, a bipolar guy ran into Michael and shoved him as if it was his fault. Michael shoved him back instinctively, causing a fight to disperse between the two. As security guards took notice, Y/N was quick to push Michael away softly and ball a fist to punch the fuck out of that guy- like a, "YO WHATCHU SAY ABOUT MY MAN?" type shit. Y/N did this to seem like she was hitting back and that Michael hadn't done anything wrong.
And when each other's birthday's rolled around, they had their own celebration. Y/N was given her own paper mache mask as a gift and a small cupcake from the cafe. Michael was given stolen art supplies that were taken from other guests and also a cupcake.
Y/N slowly stopped having panic attacks, but she definitely had her moments. Of course, Michael sat with her through it.
Dr Loomis recorded all this shit so he can gather data on Michael. Then the question hit him: How would Michael react if Y/N was gone for a few days? Does he truly care about her or is he just using her?
If you think Michael hated Loomis before, wait til he pieced together the disappearance of girlfriend and the extensive eyesight on him from security guards. For the hell he raised about it, he had to get sterilized and put into a cell without being able to get out for a few days.
Y/N remained bored in her cell for days. So what better could she do than annoy the guard watching her? She would just talk nonstop for what felt like hours and hours. The dude watching her was just getting more pissed off by the second.
"Would you shut up? Crazy bitch," he hissed, hitting the cell door. Y/N giggled cockily, shaking her head. Even if she deserved to be yelled at for continuing to talk, the Card of Death refused to back down. But when the guard went inside her cell and locked the door behind him, she got a bit worried.
Y/N got off her bed and threatened him cockily, to which he responded with physical force.
Of course, Smith's Groove is ill-equipped so even with proof of being hit and tazed, Y/N couldn't do anything to get the guard fired. But Michael?
A full month without seeing each other was like a slow suicide. But when they finally got to see each other again, the two was sure to write so much about their time alone as if they were teenage friends discussing their fun weekends. However, things turned dark whenever Y/N brought up the guard.
Michael didn't show any emotions at all, no matter what happens. But Y/N learned to guess how he's feeling depending on how long he takes to respond. Slowed blinking as if he was in thought, and slower reading as got analyze her writing closer were typically bad signs.
About a year had passed since they met at this time. A year to plan to escape. By now, the two were both 21 and fully prepared to leave once and for all.
Whenever that security guard had walked passed Michael's cell one night, Michael had knocked on the door to signal him. Michael slipped a paper through the doorslot, as he was given paper since he doesn't talk, saying he found a dead mouse in his cell. The guard just huffed and let himself inside. Michael pointed to where the mouse supposedly was; and that was a mistake for the guard.
Right as that guard went to look, Michael got behind and covered his mouth before stabbing him in the neck with a paint brush that's but carved into a small blade. Within moments, the guard dropped dead onto the floor.
Taking the keys from the guard, Michael was able to let out nearly every single prisoner to this hell out of their cells. Including Y/N.
The world sister was the only thing left of the pair as it was engraved into the door of Michael's cell. And just like that, the two were gone.
How they got there so fast doesn't matter but eventually Y/N and Michael found an abandoned house to station at until the search around the area disappeared and they could move around quicker.
"I can't fucking believe it," Y/N cheered as she felt tears run down her face from happiness. She swayed across the room, taking in the smell of dust and air. Even something dirty felt so new to her that couldn't help but love it at the moment.
Michael would watch her as he sat down in an old wooden chair, cocking his head. His body was in complete shock as the realization of all that's happened in the past years came crashing down on him. This was the real world? This is what dust smells like? This is what shattered glass and broken wood looks like? This is what trees look like up close? This is what things look like without glass tinting the color?
This is what it feels like to celebrate with someone you love? Michael reminded himself that the girl in front of him changed his life so much. His urge to harm all around him was always so strong, but the thought of her being hurt felt a bad taste in his mouth.
He stood up from the chair, walking towards the ecstatic girl as she cried happily to herself and picked up random things to remind herself of what they feel like and all she takes for granted. She turned her head to him, smiling, "Michael, look, I found a-"
Y/N gasped as Michael gripped his mask and slowly moved it. Y/N watched in awe as for the first time, she saw her only friend in this world's real face. That pale skin and soulless eyes that she grew familiar with became so new to her again.
"Michael..." she whispered, stepping closer to him. Her face heated up as she felt the weight his eyes staring down at her. She lightly bit her lip, a shiver going down her spine.
He took a few steps closer as well, making the two remain inches away from each other. Now at this point, Y/N is questioning if Michael is gonna kill her or is gonna kiss her as he awkwardly put his hand to her cheek, brushing her hair away. She leaned her head into his hand, keeping eye contact with him the whole time.
In just a matter of moments, the two came together in a soft kiss. The moment was quiet as the two did their best to remain calm and together as this moment that was little way's overdue continued.
When the two pulled away, Y/N was quick to wrap her arms around him. Now she wasn't going to cry about it, but damn was that contact she needed so badly. The Death Card and The Shape were basically Yin and Yang with how one is emotional and the other in emotionless but their need for pain and each other is what kept it healthy.
Just imagine how much suffering families went through since the two got out.
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thejustmaiden · 3 years
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So out of nowhere I was tagged and quoted by a SR shipper for a blog of mine posted in August of last year. Talk about throwback but, hey, gotta appreciate that level of snooping. 😉
Back in the day I actually used to encourage discourse amongst Inuyasha fans- both shippers and antis alike- but I've since realized that it's a lost cause. But for you, @feministmetalgreymon , I'll grant this exception. Just 'cause it's been a while so why the hell not. haha
I want to assure you, however, that nothing you say will ever convince me that Sesshomaru and Rin are meant to be together romantically or that the story intended it so. Nor will you find any validation here. You can ship them for all I care, but please for all that is good and holy while I have your attention try- I mean really try- to understand why it is so many of us Inuyasha fans are so against this pairing in the first place (newsflash: it's not about ship wars), and why we believe a romance between the two of them is completely and utterly out of character.
For those of you interested in reading this, the blog of mine in question that the above shipper mentions in their counter-argument is here for reference. It's titled "Jaken = Rin's Dad?" I'm going to try and keep this short, but I'm also making no such promises. After all, I'm not exactly known for my brevity. haha Now let's get crackin'!
Like you, feministmetalgreymon, did for your recent blog here where you took screenshots of mine to address certain parts, I will be doing the same and dissecting yours accordingly.
[Snippet 1]
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I worked with kids for many years as a teacher, and many people in my family have too or still do. Two of them happen to be just over 5 feet which is quite short for the average adult woman living here. I've also worked alongside many a women of short stature, and never did I hear any of them complaining of issues with their students having difficulty differentiating them from their own peers just because they were short as well. I'm sorry but that's just ridiculous. Kids are quite smart and pick up on a lot more than you seem to give them credit for. Height is not the only characteristic they look at to determine who's an adult and who's not, and it's foolish to suggest otherwise. So unless you're a babysitter who's still in their teens and/or who has very childlike features or behavior then I'm afraid what you're getting at is total hogwash. This is just another example of how you shippers offer nothing of real substance to your reasoning, it's only ever cherry-picking or strawmanning from you guys. Stop deflecting from the real issues please, because this certainly isn't one and only winds up being a complete waste of time for all parties involved.
[Snippet 2]
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Okay, calm down now. I wasn't insinuating that relationships between parents and children can't change over time in terms of how they get along. Of course that's possible, as all families experience their fair share of estrangement and abuse. What I was speaking about was in reference to the overall dynamic between the two. Because a bad mother or father can still be viewed as a parental figure to their child even if say they're not in said child's life anymore. Since Sesshomaru and Rin share a healthy bond- and just a friendly reminder that in my blog I even said that he doesn't have to necessarily be labeled her father but that a romantic relationship later would still be inappropriate- I didn't deem it necessary to address what you brought up. Plus, it kinda, umm, misses the point?? Please, let's stay on topic. And it's not captured in the screenshot, but stop acting like there isn't a small part of them that idolizes their parents at some point during childhood. Just like you mention later on how it's normal for kids to have innocent crushes on adults that they eventually grow out of? Well, guess what, the same concept applies here. Kids eventually learn that their parents are far from perfect and make mistakes too. Rin is so damn young in the OG series though that we never even get to see her reach that maturity level.
[Snippet 3]
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LOL! Alright, okay, so the "unbreakable bond" bit you're mentioning was actually me quoting you sessrinners. Did you not catch that? I literally spelled it out. *sigh* The whole point I was making is that shippers like yourself make hypocritical and contradictory statements all.the.goddamn.time. One moment you guys claim that Sesshomaru and Rin were essentially strangers and meant very little to each other, only to say in the same breath a few seconds later that they were destined to be together and their bond is like no other. I agree, their bond is special, but why must that mean they're going to fall in love?
That is the root of the matter here. Too many animes/mangas have romanticized this older adult man & young girl growing up falling in love trope that it's become way too normalized and widely accepted across the world- and yes, in some cultures more than others. Sadly, you lack the awareness to recognize how this all works. You know how we know that? When we see that you shippers are so desensitized to sexualized images of girls in the media that you share posts like this one below which *subtly* imply a future romance although one half of that pairing is still just a child in the pic and then try and pass it off as cute. That's like super fucking problematic and it scares me that you can't see that (or deny you do). 🤢
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After all that's said and done, Sesshomaru leaving Rin in the village with Kaede is to me the strongest indicator more than pretty much anything else he's done for Rin that proves he is her adoptive father. It's so funny to me how you somehow see the exact opposite though. 🤔 What I think is happening is that you got yourself on some squeaky clean ass shipper goggles fresh out of your little echo chamber. Because I hate to tell you, but what you're fantasizing is what you want to see and not what's actually there on screen or was written into the story. I'm strictly talking about Inuyasha and the manga of course. [For the TL; DR version skip to the last paragraph.]
Parents looking after their kids is what parents are supposed to do. A good parent will do anything to keep their child safe and ensure they are cared for, so what he did for her by leaving her there was in her best interests clearly. Besides, as a babysitter, you more than most people should understand that parents aren't always able to be there for their kids so sometimes others gotta step in to help. Haven't you heard of the saying, "it takes a village to raise a child?" Which in Rin's case is literally true! 😂 Sometimes kids are even sent off to stay with grandparents and that's who raises them instead. Or maybe they have to temporarily live with an aunt or uncle because their single parent's job requires they work out of town 4-5 days of the week so they're hardly home. But that doesn't mean that the parents care or love their kids any less, and it's foolish to assume that Sesshomaru must have thought very little of Rin simply due to the fact that he made the decision to leave her in the village. Come on, y'all are acting like he abandoned her there!!
It's just given the circumstances Sesshomaru finally came to learn that Rin traveling with him was no longer safe. I also like to think it's because he wished for her to live a more normal life and to learn how to fully trust humans again. Plus, continuing to travel with him as young as she was would have proven dangerous and unwise. Now for you to know all this and still manage to turn his past actions towards her while she was just a child into a romantic gesture is what boggles my mind. Regardless of how you look at it, from my perspective or your own, Sesshomaru is in the wrong. Either he's a father figure who impregnates his daughter at the young age of approximately 14. OR he's this man she used to travel with who maybe isn't a father to her but who nonetheless basically rapes her since kids her age can't consent to sex with an adult. Idk about you but it sounds to me like nobody here wins with either scenario we're given. In other words, you should be just as mad as we are. If only one side didn't choose to forsake their morals they know we both have in common for the sake of a ship. Welp. 🤷‍♀️
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I agree, incest is disgusting but that's not the only problem we have with this pairing. A romantic bond forming between Sesshomaru and Rin would also constitute as grooming.
You realize that over the years he visited her in the village that he brought her gifts too and essentially watched her grow up right before his very eyes, right? I mean, I know you do, but I really shouldn't have to explain further why pursuing a romantic/sexual relationship with each other is plain and simple wrong. And before you say it's not because he didn't have any malintent, please understand that considering their history and power dynamic up to then that yes this is still considered grooming even if Rin supposedly "wanted it" or "made the first move." Whether you consider him her father or not, as the adult who took on a role resembling that of a caretaker in her early life- a critical developmental time for a child- Sesshomaru is obligated to turn down any advances by Rin and most definitely should not initiate any himself. As the first close adult figure she's had in her life since her parents died, it's unfathomable to imagine how Sesshomaru could go through with taking advantage of this young girl who was under his care and supervision since they met. To think he could be capable of betraying that trust sickens me to the core.
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This. Now THIS is how a parent/guardian or a similar adult caretaker (babysitter, teacher, etc.) talks to a child. And, in turn, this is how some young children talk to adults. You'd be insane and delusional to deny it! We see it in our everyday lives, do we not? From where else do you think our stories draw most of their inspiration? Yes, obviously these fictional universes have aspects of fantasy that don't exist in the real world, but so how then do you suppose we're able to relate to them? The reason for that being is because these stories are written by people for people, so naturally there are going to be real life aspects embedded throughout. Sure, a little escapism doesn't hurt as we don't need to take everything so seriously, but ultimately we all need to recognize that the messages in the stories we tell matter. Most stories possess a combination of both light and dark themes, but when it specifically comes to the latter we gotta be careful with how we tackle this in children's media since kids are far more impressionable.
So if at the center of a story we have two of the main protagonists whose mom is basically their same age and to top it off she knew their dad when she was just a girl and who just so happened to help raise her, wouldn't you say that's beyond fucked up or at the very least so fucking weird? Like why would we think it's even remotely okay for our children to watch this garbage?? Really think about it. Try and be objective for once and think about how it would sound explaining this storyline to an outsider who's never watched IY or HNY. Well, antis have tried this before many times and we always get the same reaction: Ewww!
Like I said earlier, if you wanna ship it then fine, but 1) please stop seeking our approval or trying to change our minds - your ship wish came true didn't it, so why do you need us to validate it? 2) even though it's not canon, respect that we don't support this sequel portraying pedophilia in a positive light. It's harmful af to not only allow but glorify the continuation of sexualized images of young girls everywhere. And I shouldn't have to say this, but just because this trope is popular as you say does not make it right. Lolicon themes in the media have been an issue forever and it needs to stop. Yes, even some people in Japan or "the East" would agree. Shocker!
We're pissed off and rightfully so because Yashahime's TV rating is 14, not to mention it airs at the prime time kids in Japan watch TV after getting home from school. That's Towa and Setsuna's age, true, but if Rin being the mom when she's like only a year older than them (please don't argue w/ me about the math- antis have so far been right every time with it) is straight-up disgusting and not something we should be supporting or endorsing. Rin's a whole ass child!! Please don't start with the "but times were different then so her having kids at 15 is acceptable" argument either, because we've already debunked that and every other single excuse you guys throw at us. Besides, how or why would you expect young viewers to know these historical "facts" anyway, especially if as you suggest fiction doesn't affect reality so what does it matter? Yet here we are, arguing over a fictional show in real life almost a year and a half into the "Sesshomaru fucks?" sequel being announced. My ass, your ass, hell all our asses fiction doesn't affect reality!
Look, I do apologize if the tone of this blog came off as snippy or condescending at times. I do not wish you any ill will, it's just I'm not really sure what you expected to get out of all this besides maybe getting on my nerves perhaps. haha A lot of you shippers have been desperately scrambling to interact with us, lurking in our tags, jumping onto our posts screaming canon and getting so defensive even though you sought us out first. We've been sticking to our tags, so how about you stay in your lane too. By the way since we're on the topic, have you seen Twitter or Reddit?! SR shippers there are the actual worst and many Inuyasha fans (not just antis) have complained of not feeling welcomed to engage in fandom spaces anymore. Shippers swarm them and scare them off simply because fans don't like your ship and refuse to accept it. It's pathetic, really. No one should ever be bullied or harassed just because they don't like something you might. We're all fans of Inuyasha, aren't we? So let's act like it. Yashahime on the other hand, you guys are welcome to that pungent heap of trash. Fans have a right to criticize it too, but if you like it then good for you, so keep on liking it and don't mind us.
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I'm almost done, but real quick back to Jaken! Let's not forget about how the official Yashahime website- which came out after my blog, mind you- described Jaken. This translation isn't the best one available but it's the only version a fellow anti friend could track down. They do recall a better one done by a native Japanese speaker who was also an anti, and that member confirmed that Jaken is indeed called Rin's babysitter. So you see, I was right in my interpretation. In the original post I did compare Jaken to a brother, but after talking to others (some comments can be found under said post) I did acknowledge that he's more of a reluctant babysitter who's not related. And if he's not at least a brother to Rin, then he's definitely not her father.
At the end of the day, the creator Rumiko Takahashi has the final word. Which is guess what? Hogosha. 💖 Probably should've just started out with that and saved us all the trouble, huh? Good day/night to you.
Papamaru bids you adieu now. 🤞
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