#herself and her own feelings and heartbreak. That line that’s like heartbreak and addiction are two things that make you so self centered

[bluesadansey]

ya’ll be like: show Daisy is too much angrier than book Daisy, show Daisy is too weak/dependent compared to book Daisy, I don’t like that show Daisy thinks she’s better than Billy and challenges his decisions with confidence it makes her look too arrogant, show Daisy’s lines are too corny, she’s too much of a manic pixie dream girl, she’s boring compared to book Daisy, her character development is ruined because she said she didn’t regret a good day she had with her terrible spit marriage husband even though he was terrible (like it’s a bad thing to look back on your past actions and forgive yourself/not blame yourself for how things went???), her character development is ruined because Billy saved her after she ODed and I’m going to pretend I’m mad at this because I want her character to have agency and not shipping reasons (but then at the beginning of next ep they gave you the scene where she kicks Nicky out after realizing he left her to die just like in the book so argument completely moot I giggled), she’s too shameless about the emotional affair I could respect her in the book because she fought her feelings but in the show she’s too flirty with the man the story revolves around her having an intense emotional affair with and should be crucified for it, she isn’t doing enough substances or being chaotic enough, while complaining about how her addition is/isn’t portrayed I’m going to actively ignore how her being an addict is a part of her character writing in the show and effects her actions/how she responds to things because I’d rather just make fun of and have no sympathy for her, they made her too mean and messy, they softened her character too much and she’s not chaotic enough, I hate that they focused more on her parental issues and trauma because her character isn’t about that (which could be fair ig but what do You think it should be about instead?), she’s unprofessional, she’s way too good at everything too fast and succeeds too much, also I hate that the show is focused on her so much over other characters when she’s the mc of the story which is named after her, oh and she’s a pick me girl because of a funny little comment she made while she was high and a mess to the point of injuring herself without noticing while really really depressed and heartbroken.

Ya’ll: but the writers are misogynists who didn’t write her as a complex character and that’s the issue!

#s speaks #like don’t you see your arguments about this are really contradictory as well as everything else #daisy jones #djats #like at a certain point it’s not the writers misogyny that I think is the biggest issue #(and in case anyone comes for me I have critiques of misogynistic choices with female chars on this show just check my Karen tag trust me #I’m not Not critical. But ya’ll are ridiculous!) #addiction mention tw #self injury mention tw #daisy jones and the six #like really i want to know what you liked about her in the book if this is how you feel #also there’s literally a line in the book when older Daisy says that back when this all happened she was selfish/mostly thinking about #herself and her own feelings and heartbreak. That line that’s like heartbreak and addiction are two things that make you so self centered #she was always being portrayed with those flaws just older Daisy in the book could reflect with hindsight and maturity #Daisy in the show does not have yet. #I’m not even going to touch people hating how Riley plays her those people are just plain wrong and stupid

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

*SaB season 2 spoilers! (I think mostly episode 5/6 onwards)*

Let’s talk about the hallucinations that Tolya, Kaz, Jesper, and Inej experienced when they were breathing in the poisonous/toxic gas. It was watching this scene that made me realise I was going to need to take notes if I wanted to convey my thoughts properly to you guys, so rest assured I have a lot to say.

It would seem at first that Jesper and Inej are experiencing things they desire, whilst Kaz and Tolya are being forged through their greatest fears, and I’ve seen a lot of people mentioning this. However, Jesper’s longing for his mother ultimately culminates in more pain for him, both in losing her and in the parts of himself that he’s been burying in her absence. He uses the experience to overcome his repression because he’s in a stable enough position (in terms of his emotional state relating to his mother’s death not his gambling addiction) to start healing, but that doesn’t mean mean that the experience isn’t still deeply painful for him. In a similar way, Inej’s hallucination shows her something that she cannot experience - not just because of Kaz’s pain but because of her own as well. When I fist watched it the hallucination bothered me a little, because although she internally expresses a desire to be with Kaz in the books, it is not something she physically wished for. However, the more I think about it the more I understand that this was necessary because it was absolutely the reason that she was the first of them to ‘wake up’, as it were, and acknowledge that the visions weren’t real. As much as she theoretically wishes for a relationship with Kaz, her desires are not only for him but more so to one day be capable of having a relationship at all. If the hallucination had shown her family or memories of her childhood like Jesper then it would have fooled her far more easily because she is prepared to want them and to want to go home. She is not prepared to want Kaz. When I initially made my notes about this I wrote about the “I will have you without your armour” scene in the books, not knowing that we would get to see it later on. In the books, Inej reflects on this conversation afterwards and wonders how she would have felt if Kaz had responded like she thought she wanted him to. Like him, she has a fear of physical contact - she describes flinching when Nina and Jesper hug her, and closes in on herself when Heleen touches her - but instead of protecting herself from contact like Kaz she forces herself through it in hopes of improving. Her fear of contact is less severe than his, in part because she feared reaching the point that he has where any future of touch seems impossible, and in part because her fear is not of touch alone but the impact that sexual contact will have on her state of mind. She wonders whether, had Kaz ‘taken her’ in that moment, she would have been able to reciprocate any kind of connection or if she would have shut down and become “a doll in his arms” as she was forced to do for survival at the Menagerie. If that happened, she would not only feel fractured and betrayed because of her mental state, but she would also never be able to see Kaz in the same way again; her would become aligned with every horror she experienced and all the pain she went through. Her pain is still to fresh; in the books she was only a year or two out of the Menagerie and I think we can assume it to be less in the show since Heleen still holds her contracts. Until she’s had time to heal she cannot possibly enter a relationship of this nature because it has the power to break her. There’s a tragically beautiful line in the books that I think described this really well when she says “And what was she supposed to do? Find a nice husband, have his children, then sharpen her knives whilst they slept? How would she explain the nightmares she still had?” It’s a heartbreaking line, but it also more than proves that she has not yet reached a place of healing because she cannot imagine being able to explain her experiences to the person she’d spend the rest of her life with. With this context, I think the most important part of her hallucination is that Kaz asks for permission before he touches her, but unfortunately I don’t think there is enough emphasis on her backstory to make this clear in the show.

I think that Inej and Jesper’s hallucinations appearing to be more about longing but ultimately being painful and Tolya and Kaz’s to be more about fear tells us a lot about their characters. If I had to group them as optimists and pessimists, I’d have probably called Jesper and Tolya the optimists and Kaz and Inej the pessimists, but I think this scene is telling me exactly why I was wrong. Starting with the pessimistic visions: Tolya is drip fed im his greatest fear whilst Kaz is forced into it immediately, and I think this is because Tolya is less pessimistic than Kaz but struggling to find his way to optimism. His vision takes place on the Volkvony/Hummingbird, making him feel endangered somewhere that he should feel safe and at home to kill his longing for optimism, and he finds Tamar slowly because he is trying to push away the thought of losing his sister but it just keeps coming back. I also think that arguably his greatest fear is not just her death, but somehow causing it. And then for the optimists: Inej’s vision differs from Jesper’s because she is finding it so difficult to remain the optimistic child she used to be. If she were still who she once was, she would have seen her parents or her brother, but instead she sees Kaz because her life has been narrowed from travelling through Ravka (and I think North Shu Han but I’m not sure?) to the limits and confines of Ketterdam alone, until the city has become her whole world. She is clinging desperately to the edge of this optimistic outlook, a child with no knowledge of how cruel the world can be, but the hallucination almost taunts her by showing her something she could be optimistic about if she wanted to but ultimately knows is unattainable, at least right now. Jesper’s is arguably very similar, which I think highlights how similar they are both on the family-oriented childhoods they both lost very suddenly and the way their personalities were shaped because of it, but his is overall more positive because he is closer to being able to heal from the loss of his mother than Inej is the loss of her innocence.

This is so long I’m so sorry I only just realised, if you read this far thank you very much I hope it was interesting enough for the effort

#no one cares about this #can’t believe I wrote this much and barely said anything about Kaz and Jordie #did I even say anything about Kaz and Jordie? #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #six of crows #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #nina zenik #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kanej #tolya yul bataar #tolya and tamar #tamar kir bataar #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone #shadow and bone s2 #shadow and bone netflix #netflix

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

tw family problems, mentions of alcoholism (?) and drugs (only weed)

My life at home with my parents is as worse as it has ever been.

I've never had a great life at home. My parents aren't great. But i never thought it would get this bad.

My father never drank until maybe a year ago. He only did with friends and on holidays which was never a problem. But recently it has been getting bad. Every-other-day bad. He's not violent when he drinks. He never hurt me physically. But he's not there. He's not coherent. And it hurts so insanely bad. It hurts seeing him lose himself and drown in his emotions because he can't express them sober. He said he'd stop many times and he never did. This evening he thew a piece of wood (originally meant for the fireplace), at our cat who was meowing and being annoying. I get telling her to shut up but he crossed a line. I don't know if it hit her. I just heard a thump. I hope he didn't. He laughed about it.

I don't know how long my mother has been smoking weed. I always thought she was forgetful because she's getting "older" (she's not even that old) but it seems maybe i was wrong. She could've been smoking for years before i myself learned about weed and what it looked or smelled like. She locks herself in the bathroom and rolls it. Nobody can enter. She gets almost hysterical if i ask to go in and wash my hands.

I've tried weed, I drink a beer occasionally but I've never overstepped any level and I see it as being young and trying things.

I'm not an addict, my parents are.

I want to confront my mother but i can't because she'll be confused as to how I know.

I'm not sure what to do.

Maybe it's temporary and she's self medicating? She has talks with my father about everything regularly now because I know she's trying to stop him from drinking. I don't know if it's HER method of being emotionally calm given the situation? Regardless it's not okay.

They're both trying to help their unhealed traumas in unhealthy ways.

I wish they would just go to therapy.

hello, this is the anon who sent in the ask about my dad drinking and my mother smoking just an update, my father went to therapy today and last week too apparently which surprised me. He was gone for a little long and i was worried but didn't drink which is good. maybe things could get better...

Hi anon,

I'm sorry to hear about what's been going on with your parents. While weed can have some medicinal benefits even if used recreationally, it shouldn't be used as a crutch necessarily, but rather as a supplement to therapy or inner work. On the other hand, with your dad, there are obviously no medicinal benefits to drinking, and it sounds like he often drinks to the point of being unintelligible and violent. I can definitely understand how scary and heartbreaking it can be to witness this, especially from your own father. I'm glad to hear that your dad has been going to therapy recently, and I hope that it can be used to address his drinking habits and subsequent behavior.

If anyone has any comments or suggestions, feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #tw abuse #tw substance abuse #tw animal abuse

[rphelperblog]

The Seven Husband of Evelyn Hugo Quote Rp Meme

by Taylor Jenkins Reid- feel free to edit or change pronouns- part one

‘“Never let anyone make you feel ordinary.” 

“I spent half my time loving her and the other half hiding how much I loved her.” 

“I love you too much to let you live only for me.” 

“It’s a hard business, reconciling what the truth used to be with what the truth is now.” 

“And here’s why it worked: man or woman, gay, straight, bisexual, you name it, we all just want to be teased.” 

“The world respects people who think they should be running it.”

“I can't speak for all people who have been hit by someone they love, but what I can tell you is that forgiveness is different from absolution.” 

“I guess what I’m saying is it’s not all luck. It’s luck and being a son of a bitch.” 

“People don't find it very sympathetic or endearing, a woman who puts herself first. Nor do people respect a man who can't keep his wife in line.” 

“Twice now in our lives. I have spent years getting over you.” 

“No one is just a victim or a victor. Everyone is somewhere in between.

who was the love of your life? You can tell me."

“I can survive it. I’d rather survive it than never feel it.” 

"It's ok, you can fall down now. I'll catch you." So I fell down.” 

“Praise is just like an addiction. The more you get it, the more of it you need just to stay even.” 

“forgiveness is different from absolution.” 

“No one goes around throwing caution to the wind unless the wind is blowing their way.” 

“You don't have to make yourself OK for a good mother; a good mother makes herself OK for you.” 

“It shouldn’t be wrong, to love you. How can it be wrong?”

“It’s not wrong, sweetheart. It’s not, they’re wrong.” 

“Why have I spent so long settling for less when I know damn well the world expects more?” 

“If I want things to change, I have to change how I do things. And probably drastically.” 

“How someone can love you in a way that is beautifully selfless while serving themselves ruthlessly.” 

“I'm bisexual. Don't ignore half of me so you can fit me into a box.” 

“People are messy, and love can be ugly. I’m inclined to always err on the side of compassion.” 

“I was gorgeous, even at fourteen. Oh, I know the whole world prefers a woman who doesn’t know her power, but I’m sick of all that. I turned heads.” 

“Heartbreak is a loss. Divorce is a piece of paper.” 

“You wonder what it must be like to be a man, to be so confident that the final say is yours.” 

“Isn’t that the very definition of power? Watching people kill themselves over something that means nothing to you?” 

“I’m cynical and I’m bossy, and most people would consider me vaguely immoral.” 

“Sometimes reality comes crashing down on you. Other times reality simply waits, patiently, for you to run out of the energy it takes to deny it.” 

“Don't ignore half of me so you can fit me into a box. Don't do that.” 

“I’m under absolutely no obligation to make sense to you.” 

“Make them pay you what they would pay a white man.” 

“You can be sorry about something and not regret it,”

“Which is about the cruelest thing you can do to someone you love, give them just enough good to make them stick through a hell of a lot of bad.” 

“It’s always been fascinating to me how things can be simultaneously true and false, how people can be good and bad all in one, how someone can love you in a way that is beautifully selfless while serving themselves ruthlessly.” 

“I simply didn't care. It cost so much, caring. I didn't have any currency to spend on it.” 

“I was fishing for information that might break my heart. A flaw of the human condition.” 

“But accepting that something is true isn't the same as thinking that it is just.” 

“My heart was never in the craft of acting, only in the proving. Proving my power, proving my worth, proving my talent.” 

“Being wanted meant having to satisfy.” 

“It strikes me as a unique form of power to say your own name when you know that everyone in the room, everyone in the world, already knows it.” 

“Two men sleeping together. Married to two women sleeping together. We were four beards.” 

“I've never thought of myself as a force to be reckoned with. Maybe I should start thinking of myself that way; maybe I deserve to.” 

“charisma is “charm that inspires devotion.” 

“It just goes to show that if you tell a woman her only skill is to be desirable, she will believe you.” 

“If you are intolerable, let me be the one to tolerate you,"

“When you dig just the tiniest bit beneath the surface, everyone's love life is original and interesting and nuanced and defies any easy definition.” 

“That’s the part I was stuck in, the part where you accept the apology because it’s easier than addressing the root of the problem,” 

“Sometimes divorce isn’t an earth-shattering loss. Sometimes it’s just two people waking up out of a fog.” 

And to anyone tempted to kiss the TV tonight, please don't chip your tooth.” 

“What's that saying? Behind every gorgeous woman, there's a man sick of screwing her? Well, it works both ways. No one mentions that part.

“The daily peace of loving plainly.” 

“Do you think I'm a whore?

“Isn't it awfully convenient,“that when men make the rules, the one thing that's looked down on the most is the one thing that would bear them the greatest threat? Imagine if every single woman on the planet wanted something in exchange when she gave up her body. You'd all be ruling the place. An armed populace. Only men like me would stand a chance against you. And that's the last thing those assholes want, a world run by people like you and me.”

“And it will be the tragedy of my life that I cannot love you enough to make you mine. That you cannot be loved enough to be anyone’s.” 

“You have to find a job that makes your heart feel big instead of one that makes it feel small.” 

“You have to find a job that makes your heart feel big instead of one that makes it feel small.”

“Be wary of men with something to prove.” 

“When you're given an opportunity to change your life, be ready to do whatever it takes to make it happen. The world doesn't give things, you take things.” 

“I simply didn't care. It cost so much, caring. I didn't have any currency to spend on it.” 

“Please never forget that the sun rises and sets with your smile. At least to me it does. You’re the only thing on this planet worth worshipping.”

“People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth. When you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can show yourself to them, when you stand in front of them bare and their response is 'you're safe with me'- that's intimacy.”

"Do you understand what I'm telling you? When you're given an opportunity to change your life, be ready to do whatever it takes to make it happen. The world doesn't give things, you take things. If you learn one thing from me, it should probably be that.” 

“you can’t tell a single thing about a person’s true character if you both want the same thing. That’s like a dog and a cat getting along because they both want to kill the mouse.” 

. It’s time for her to go to her daughter, and her lover, and her best friend, and her mother.” 

“I loved you so much that I thought you were the meaning of my life....I thought that people were put on earth to find other people, and I was put here to find you. To find you and touch your skin and smell your breath and hear all your thoughts. But I don't want to be meant for someone like you.” 

“It’s OK, you can fall down now. I’ll catch you.” 

“I think being yourself—your true, entire self—is always going to feel like you’re swimming upstream.”

“But if the last few years with you have been any indication, I think it also feels like taking your bra off at the end of the day.” 

And anyways, I think once people know the truth, they will be much more interested in my wife.” 

“I loved you so much that I thought you were the meaning of my life....I thought that people were put on earth to find other people, and I was put here to find you. To find you and touch your skin and smell your breath and hear all your thoughts. But I don't want to be meant for someone like you".” 

“I made it fifty-fifty. Which is the cruelest thing you can do to someone you love, give them just enough good to make them stick through a hell of a lot of bad.” 

“People have so closely followed the most intricate details of the fake story of my life.” 

“Why should my low tolerance be your problem?" 

"I want everything about you to be my problem,"

“That is the fastest way to ruin a woman’s reputation, after all—to imply that she has not adequately threaded the needle that is being sexually satisfying without ever appearing to desire sexual satisfaction.”

“I'd told him I was someone else, and then I started getting angry that he couldn't see who I really was.” 

“The devastating luxury of panic overtook me.And it has never left.” 

“You’re not really famous if anyone still likes you.” 

“You wonder what it must be to be a man, to be so confident that the final say is yours.” 

t charming girls should take pity on the pretty ones. I’m just saying it’s not so great being loved for something you didn’t do.” 

“I can’t rest until I’m done. I have to push her. I have to ask and be willing to be told no. I have to know my worth.” 

“I had learned all too well that pain was sometimes stronger than the need to keep up appearances.” 

“I can’t rest until I’m done. I have to push her. I have to ask and be willing to be told no. I have to know my worth.” 

“Me, I’ve always gone after what I wanted with everything in me. Others fall into happiness. Sometimes I wish I was like them. I’m sure sometimes they wish they were like me.” 

“If you are intolerable, let me be the one to tolerate you,” 

“You know the key to impulsivity is believing you are invincible. No one goes around throwing caution to the wind unless the wind is blowing their way.” 

“First, you have to push people’s boundaries and not feel bad about it. No one is going to give you anything if you don’t ask for it. You tried. You were told no. Get over it.” 

“I think the word whore is something ignorant people throw around when they have nothing else.” 

“Even more gorgeous than I imagined.”

“It cost so much, caring. I didn't have any currency to spend on it.” 

“I miss my dad. I miss him all the time. But it’s moments like this, when I’m on the precipice of finally doing work that might just expand my heart, that I wish I could at least send him a letter, telling him what I’m doing. And I wish that he could send me one back.” 

“I’m simply saying they were all too happy to believe the lie I was selling them. And of course, that’s the easiest lie to tell, one you know the other person desperately wants to be true.” 

“I think being yourself—your true, entire self—is always going to feel like you’re swimming upstream.” 

“You can decide that wealth and renown are worthless when you have them.” 

“I feel no pressure to stop crying. I feel no need to explain myself. You don't have to make yourself okay for a good mother. A good mother makes herself okay for you.”

“I liked the idea of showing a woman having sex because she wanted to be pleased instead of being desperate to please.” 

“No one is all good or all bad. I know this, of course. I had to learn it at a young age. But sometimes it’s easy to forget just how true it is. That it applies to everyone.” 

“I have been married seven times, and never once has it felt half as right as this. I think that loving you has been the truest thing about me

#taylor jenkins reid #the seven husbands of evelyn hugo #booktube #booktok #open rp #open to all #open to anyone #ask meme #open meme #open to anybody #rp meme #ask prompt #roleplay meme #memes #open starter #open to everyone

[highnoteblog]

The Age for New Beginnings: 30 by Adele

By Alex Amorado

Adele’s 30, was everything her fans wanted and more. Much like her other albums, it is named after the age she wrote the songs. The age of 30 for Adele was especially significant and filled with profound of emotions as she journeys through life’s complexities following her divorce.  This album can be said as Adele’s best album yet, expressing her rawest and realest form. Narratives of the things she has gone through are found all throughout the album.

Themes of heartbreak, finding oneself, moving on, and love (romantically, for her son and for herself) are evident in the 12 diverse and brilliantly unique crafted songs. 

"Strangers by Nature," the hauntingly beautiful opening track of the album, sets the stage for an emotionally charged journey that lies ahead. With delicate organ chords, Adele's voice soars and echoes over the melancholic orchestral arrangement, creating a powerful yet vulnerable atmosphere. The depictive lyrics of a scene in the cemetery and ends with the line “Alright then, I’m ready” brings the audience in to Adele’s life in the that her marriage and love was something she had to bury for her own peace.

As the album unfolds, each song offers a unique perspective on love, heartbreak, and empowerment. "Easy on Me," the globally acclaimed piano-ballad that has won the hearts of people, as Adele's passionate voice brings to life the heart-wrenching lyrics about the consequences of staying in a love that erodes one's sense of self. It’s a reminder that even when loving other people, we also have to stay in love with ourselves– careful not to lose ourselves in loving others. As Adele journeys through her divorce, she asks her son to go easy on her as she tries to explain why their marriage did not work out. 

The album plays on different subgenres such as Jazz and R&B fusion heard in  "My Little Love"  that draws inspiration from a heartfelt conversation between Adele and her son. The velvety background vocals seamlessly enhance the narrative, a poignant tale shared by Adele about her relationship with her son. Vulnerable and honest, she lays bare her anxieties, fears, and vulnerabilities in this deeply personal piece.

Departing from her signature melancholic ballads, the album takes an upbeat turn with "Cry Your Heart Out" and "Oh My God." "Cry Your Heart Out" surprises with its vocal layering and brass instrumentation, infusing the song with a perky and soulful style that contrasts the introspective lyrics of two sides of the same coin, crying over loss but also happy crying for new beginnings. It’s a song of juxtaposition, where you can happily dance based on the tune and cry while listening to the lyrics. On the other hand, "Oh My God" embraces a playful production, utilizing claps, keys, organ, and bass to create an electro-pop feel that complements the exciting lyrics about the experience of being flirted with after a divorce.

With the divorce, Adele also wishes to find an everlasting love which is something she writes about in the song “Can I Get It” somehow asking if she could actually get that ever-after love she has been dreaming about. It’s a beautifully written song that showcases an upbeat acoustic guitar style accompanied by claps, whistling, drums, and subtle hints of trumpet, resulting in a lively and intricately layered song about the pursuit of everlasting love. 

Is it not like everyone else, when we are going through something it seems a little more bearable when we have wine on our side? The title “I Drink Wine” may give the same idea however it barely talks about the act of drinking but rather it becomes a lot more personal for Adele as it reflects both the repercussions she got from her father’s alcohol addiction as well the divorce she was going through. It’s a simple composition, with just Adele's soothing backup vocals blending with a gentle piano and drum accompaniment that reflects how she was “bounded by choices that somebody else”.

The interlude, "All Night Parking," holds a special place in the album as it features the renowned American jazz pianist Erroll Garner. With its dreamy sound, the interlude encapsulates the phrase "short and sweet," providing a moment of reflection and transition.

After that moment of reflection, we are reminded that self-empowerment and leaving something that is not worthy of you is something that worth celebrating, and “Women Like Me” does exactly that as Adele celebrates the importance of knowing when to walk away from a situation that no longer serves us. Adele reminds us that knowing when we deserve better is so important. But just as letting go can be difficult, sometimes holding on to something is also just as difficult, heard in her song “Hold On”. It’s a song written like a letter to herself about how “it's hard to hold on to something when I’m [she] stumbling in the dark for a hand”. It’s a song of double meaning where she’s losing herself trying to hold on to her failing marriage but at the same time trying to hold on to herself-no matter how little is left of her. The song in particular evokes a feeling of catharsis resonant to its listeners towards the end of the song as the orchestra intensifies to a crescendo. 

Closing the album with its final two songs, "To be Loved" begins with a piano intro that harks back to Adele's past relationship, a reminder of what she had to let go in order to find true love and be loved in return. It is a passionate and heartfelt anthem about sacrificing something that once meant everything. Lastly, "Love is a Game" ends the album with its silky cinematic jazz sound, exploring the notion that love is a game for fools. Adele acknowledges her hesitation to be love and vulnerable again, but ultimately admits that she would willingly embrace love's unpredictable journey.

This whole album is a masterpiece of real emotions transcending beyond the typical heartbreak albums as it touches on real-life complexities, making Adele more human and reachable by her audience. It’s a 5-star album and might I say her best album yet. There is no miss in this album with all very well written and proves and reassures the fact that 30 could indeed be the start of a new chapter with new beginnings. The album is incredible beyond belief, hence being nominated for two Grammy Awards, including Album of the Year, and it winning the Brit Award for British Album of the Year at the Brit Awards 2022.

#album review #alex

[bibliobile]

Trampoline by Robert Gipe

Gipe, Robert. Trampoline: An Illustrated Novel. Ohio University Press, 2015.

Summary-

Trampoline written by Robert Gipe, is told from the perspective of a fifteen-year-old girl named Dawn Jewell. Dawn Jewell lives in Eastern Kentucky and her life is absolutely anything but simple. Dawn describes herself as a:

“freak, soft and four-eyed, with black fingernail polish, a dead daddy, a drunk momma, a crackhead brother, outlaw uncles, and divorced grandparents who made trouble for normal people every time they come off the ridge” (p. 70)

 Her father died when she was nine in a coal mining accident, her mother has been an alcoholic/drug-user every since and has moved in with her boyfriend Hubert, otherwise known as Uncle Hubert, her dead father’s brother. Her mother and Hubert’s drug use drove her to go live with her Mamaw who is the matriarch of her family and parts of the community. Mamaw is an environmental advocate for the area, and wants the strip mining on Bear Mountain nearby to stop. Unfortunately, even though strip mining is harming the land and the people on it, it also keeps food in the mouths of most of Canard County including many members of their own family. When Dawn attends a town meeting about the strip mining on Bear Mountain, she can’t help but defend her Mamaw from the cruel words of angry mining families; but when her outburst is recorded and played on the local radio station, she finds herself at the front lines of the controversial movement with a target on her back.

From this point on Dawn must decide weather she is going to save herself or save the mountains she holds so dear, and if there is anyway, she can do both. Her Mamaw wants her to stay with her Aunt June, away from Canard County, where she can live a calm life away from the constant drug use and illegal activity of her family. But for Dawn, the simple life is more nerve-wracking and complicated than trauma filled life of home. Dawn is confronted with the choice to stay in Canard County where she is comfortable and knows what to expect despite being looked down on by most of her community for her environmental stances; or stay with her Aunt June and live a more ‘normal’ life with dinner on the table in the evenings and a boy that wants to hold her hand. How can she decide where she is going to be happy as a teenager, and soon to be young adult, if the last time she truly felt it she was only a child?

Personal Response-

Reading Trampoline was eye opening for me in ways I did not expect at all. It in my opinion was one of the most accurate portrayals of a young mind in YA literature that I have read in a long time. Trampoline reminded me what it was like to truly be in the grips of adolescence yet somehow still feel beyond it because you are expected to deal with issues that are much bigger than yourself. Dawn is constantly told by those around her that she doesn’t act like she is fifteen, yet for the readers who get to experience her inner monologue, she is exactly fifteen in every way. She longs to fit in, she is tired of being bullied, she has a temper that flares up at the worst moments and she herself doesn’t even know why, and in times of conflict and stress she still wants her mom -no matter how much her mother has mistreated her.

The highs and lows of adolescence are coursing through her all while she is learning of the very ‘adult’ world around her. Dawn is forced to witness the degradation of her mother as she descends deeper into addiction, and what was once just alcohol turns into weed, then opioids. There’s even a section of the book where Dawn’s mother decides she wants to give Dawn a makeover, while she is extremely high. Even though Dawn really doesn’t want to go along with it, she does, because it’s her mother.  Dawn’s mom ends up shaving parts of her head and dying the rest bright green even when Dawn protests. I think the most heartbreaking part of this scene in the book is her mother laughing at her appearance as she leaves the room. Dawn is forced to come to the realization that just because they are supposed to be the ones taking care of you, does not mean they always have your best interest at heart. Dawn is forced to lose yet another piece of her adolescence which is the idea that adults are supposed to always look out for you as a child, especially your parents.

Connections-

Robert Gipe has created some of the most well-rounded characters I have ever read in a young adult novel, every character has their flaws and redeeming qualities, even if the ratio is VERY skewed in one direction or the other for some of them.  I also really enjoyed how this book told the story of a teen girl who is coming of age but avoids the stereotypical pitfalls of being boy crazy, fashion obsessed, makeup slathered and materialistic, instead he allows Dawn to simply be a young person who in my opinion, anyone, regardless of gender identity, can relate to in one way or another.

For all of these reasons, and more, I would absolutely love to teach Trampoline in my future classroom. It perfectly tackles serious issues as and relatable adolescent mindsets, while inserting comical anecdotes and metaphors at the perfect moments. It also makes amazing use of figurative language which I love. Dawn is constantly making hilariously accurate similes and metaphors such as:

 "The state people sat like prizes at a carnival game, eyes wide and blank, stuffed pink monkeys, green hippopotamuses piled too close together. Every once in a while they would take a note, but not that often" (12).

Trampoline is also littered with drawings and doodles done by ‘Dawn’ that add an extra layer to the way we see the world through her eyes. There are not enough in my opinion to make it a graphic novel, but just enough to add an extra element to analyze and create a deeper understanding of the story being told. As someone who is not a huge fan of graphic novels, I think this would be a perfect way to teach symbolism in images without having to fully go into a graphic novel unit.

#Trampoline #RobertGipe #literature

[existentialmagazine]

Review: SAPPHIRE’s new whimsical indie-pop single ‘corvette’ combines resonance with infectiousness, leaning into love and heartbreak

UK based singer, songwriter and musician SAPPHIRE has found herself journeying through a solo musical endeavour with overwhelming interest, garnering over 200,000 monthly listeners since her 2019 debut. Pouring everything into her craft, this indie-pop gem is sure to pull interest from fans of Sabrina Carpenter, Lennon Stella and Madison Beer but with SAPPHIRE’s own unique flair. With her new original single ‘corvette’, SAPPHIRE only continues to demonstrate why she’s a name that’s surely only going to keep rising up.

Leading in with whimsical, intimate leaning tones, ‘corvette’ offers a heartfelt delivery you can’t help but feel wrapped up and embraced within, like you’re watching the city lights pass as you drive by with a bittersweet aching you can’t quite explain. Laced in sensitive, resonating guitar strings as it opens up, ‘corvette’ gently soars through a paired-back arrangement of sound, capturing an essence of powerful solitude. Whirring synth dips between the background of the track, intermittently adding a depth to the cautiously emotive sound. The chorus shifts with the addition of bright piano keys and twinkling synth pops to complement the guitar, an almost hopeful change in tone that’s still melancholic but lightly uplifted. Rolling into the second verse with a burst of momentum, the track bounds along with a newly added infectious steady beat as well as picking up in guitar strums, allowing ‘corvette’ to shine as a gorgeous multifaceted release rooted in both tenderness and addictive pop highs. The chorus builds just as atmospherically, delving into heightened instrumentals both in terms of volume and impact before the bridge turns things back down a notch, bringing us back to the opening’s softer sounds and message. SAPPHIRE’s graceful vocals glide through the sound with a fitting ease, sombrely delivering the beginnings with a more toned-down approach before leaning heavily into her powerful range as things progress, encapsulating both heavy emotion and a peppy edge. Luscious harmonies later add a further layering of dancing vibrance to the song, always evolving and offering an absolute treat to unpack. As far as pop anthems go, ‘corvette’ completely nails it, moulding together something meaningful with something you just can’t stop listening to one more time.

SAPPHIRE writes of an equally poignant story within her slightly sonorous sound, hedonistically chasing a romance that’s constantly on a ‘will they, won’t they’ edge. Opening with the weighted line ‘I walk home wasted, back from the bar it’s 3am but I didn’t see your face again’, SAPPHIRE immediately establishes the parameters of the relationship she yearns for, finding herself pining for someone to show up but always met with lonely late nights instead. Continuing ‘for you I’ve waited, every night from half past 9’, it’s clear that SAPPHIRE is almost addicted to the unresolved emotions that stew within with her persistence to keep returning, dreaming of the day fate brings them back together - or so she hopes. Singing ‘maybe you’ll come back’, it’s like SAPPHIRE carries an unrequited longing that deep down she’s aware will never flourish into anything, yet continues to tell herself there’s hope regardless. Asking ‘would you wanna see my face again?’ , the lyrics emphasise the distance that’s grown between these past lovers, revealing all her pent up thoughts and questions that would spill out of her lips should they ever meet again. More introspective lines like ‘think that I stayed too long waiting for you’ seem to show a self-awareness of her behaviour though, unhealthily obsessed with a dream that’ll never come into fruition but similarly incapable of letting go, mourning a loss that lacks closure. Tinged in heartbreak and rose-tinted visions, ‘corvette’ is a surprisingly lyrically heavy release that’ll likely relate to many that find themselves still wishing they’d bump into that one person they’re not quite over, always finding themselves envisioning what could’ve been.

Adding more on the release, SAPPHIRE shares “I wrote half of ‘corvette’ in October 2022. I never found the right moment to continue writing it as I knew it needed to feel like the right time. I had a session set up with my co-writer, Alex Stacey, and something told me that the time was right to complete ‘corvette’. I’d never been happier. We wanted to capture all of the sounds of New York in the production - imagine standing in the middle of the street there, with someone playing acoustic guitar on the fire escape above you, someone playing the saxophone to couples walking back from the restaurant, and a car going past playing that perfect driving playlist on the speakers. Also getting to create a story about how I was waiting in the early hours of the morning for a guy to arrive at a New York City bar in his corvette was great fun.”

Check out ‘corvette’ here to appreciate the warm, evolving soundscape and the hazy mess of love and heartbreak entangled within.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

#music #singlereview #SAPPHIRE

[jdgo51]

WayMaker: Sign

Today's inspiration comes from:

WayMaker

by Ann Voskamp

Editor’s Note: Ann Voskamp shares with us in WayMaker and the story of the Exodus that there is a Red Sea Road through every impossible situation. God is creating a Way through all our hard places. Jesus, the Waymaker Himself, “never, ever, ever, ever stops making a way to be closer to you.” Enjoy this excerpt.

"'The sweetest joys and delights I have experienced, have not been those that have arisen from a hope of my own good estate, but in a direct view of the glorious things of the gospel... I felt an ardency of soul to be, what I know not otherwise how to express... to be full of Christ alone; to love Him with a holy and pure love; to trust in Him; to live upon Him; to serve and follow Him.

~ Jonathan Edwards

She comes running through the door for me first, like she’s some prodigal’s father, widely wasteful with lavish love. “Your heart brave, too, Mama? Your heart brave like mine?”

Shiloh’s crawling up in the bed to kiss me, hiking up her t-shirt for me to see the raised scar from her heart surgery that parts her chest like a Red Sea Road, scars always a memory made into skin, a memory you can touch.

“Ah, baby girl, Mama doesn’t have a brave heart or scar like yours.” I’m smiling, but my eyes are searching the face of her papa coming in tentatively behind her. He’s the one who bears all my scars. I want to trace every one of the scars I’ve made, whisper sorry, beg mercy.

“But Mama? You got heart lines though, Mama, see?” Shiloh’s tracing lines and leads from screens to my chest.

“Shiloh? What’s Mama’s heart always tied to?”

And in one supernova explosion, Shiloh breaks into this dazzling smile, like she’s a morning star rising after a glacial dark. “I knowwwww, Mama, I always know.” And she dances her fingers on her chest and then flings both her hands toward me. And I’m laughing, mirroring her, fingers dancing on chest, then stretching both hands toward her, she and I both saying it in unison, same rhythm, same heartbeat: “My heart is always tied to your heart.”

She throws back her head and laughs, like she is soft light dancing over a singing brook, and I’m drenched in the loveliness of her. Hearts tied, hers and mine.

Attached, we are free to love.

“Darryl?” I stretch my arm out toward him standing in the doorway... pat the side of the hospital bed. “My heart is tied to yours too... my heart is yours too.”

My heart for yours, my walk with yours,

my life bound to yours, till my last breath, then always and forever. He shakes his head slowly, his eyes desperately sad, wounded. Shiloh’s pulling out books and crayons from her backpack, half-singing to herself, her half a heart beating steady between surgeries. My heart is in all kinds of failure. Darryl’s standing here, the way a man can, though his heart’s breaking slow.

“I’m sorry. I am unspeakably sorry.” I can feel it, embodied in me, with the weight of my pneumonia lungs and how hard it is to breathe: “Wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction,” says the Word,1 destruction literally meaning narrowness, while straight is the gate and narrow is the way that leads to the expansive life. The way of sin is wide-open and easy, but it narrows until life becomes crushed. The way of life is narrow, but “it broadens out into the spaciousness of life.”2

The pathway of least resistance leads to the least life. It’s the narrow pathway of great resistance that leads to the great life. What can I even stammer but this: “I have sinned against Heaven and you. I am unspeakably sorry for all the ways I’ve turned my own way, gone my own way, failed in all kinds of heartbreaking ways. Ways that kinda actually broke your heart.”

“Oh, Ann.” He sits down on the edge of the bed. “You’re not alone... every single one of us has wanted our own way, gone our own way, in different ways.”

I drop my head to his chest. And I break, a dam, and everything runs liquid, free.

I’ve been addicted to me.

My addiction is to self. It is an excruciatingly painful thing to cut open your heart and see: My addiction is me.

I have committed idolatry.

I have broken the first commandment:

I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. You shall have no other gods before me. — Exodus 20:2–3

Instead of laying myself down on the altar as a living sacrifice before God, I’ve put myself, my needs, my wants, my dreams, before God, before Darryl, before my love-covenant to both. Instead of trusting God to take care of me, I have turned and gone looking for all the lying ways of this hurting old world to comfort me. Instead of entering into the sufferings of Christ, who keeps His covenant to suffer with us, I have kept looking for the way out, any way out, always looking for an exodus out of pain. And where we keep looking for a way out of our heartbreak, we only drag a whole lot of beautiful souls into more heartbreak.

Christianity is never only the mental assent of faith in Jesus, without requiring the lived attachment, trusting faithfulness to Jesus.

I bear heartbreaking witness to the way of my ways: Nothing destroys a life like idolatry. Nothing destabilizes a life like centering self. Nothing will turn your life into a colossal mess like turning inward. All your incurvatus in se will leave you begging for a cure.

Though the roads will look different for each of us, always: The only way out and through is to enter into the sufferings of Christ. Only the One who keeps His covenant to suffer with you can carry you the whole way through.

Always: The only way out is to turn outward, love reaching out to God and others. And always, always, always: If you don’t set yourself apart for a SACRED way with God, you set out to tear your own life apart. I’m wild to go home and tear out that clematis, that was my own wayward, turned-inward heart, that was just about the death of me, and I am desperately ready to die to self to wake to the one SACRED life I always dreamed of.

When I look up, everything is swimming and blurring, and my chest feels like a narrowing vise.

Instead of gazing on the beauty of God Himself, we’ve all kept gazing on a way, a dream of another life without suffering that we’ve made into some kind of god to us. Instead of turning toward God, we all keep returning to the garden to go our own way and eat the damned apple, and then try to convince ourselves and all the world that it tastes divinely sweet, when the truth of it is, we have never chosen to taste and see the eternally satisfying rich goodness of God.

Each of us has curved our own way and away from God, rejecting His ways through suffering, His way of wooing us through heartbreak, His way of taking care of us through everything, when it’s only His way that will make the most fulfilling way.

I brush my cheeks with the back of my hand, look up into Darryl’s eyes, and I can read God. God doesn’t break attachment and abandon those who break His heart in a thousand ways. We break God’s heart, and God calls us beloved; we’ve gone our own way, but God won’t let us go. We run, and God seeks romance.

I loved him…

I took them up by their arms... I led them with cords of kindness, with the bands of love, and I became to them as one who eases the yoke on their jaws, and I bent down to them and fed them...

How can I give you up, O Ephraim?... My heart recoils within me, my compassions grows warm and tender. I will not execute my burning anger;

I will not again destroy... for I am God and not a man.

(Hosea 11:1, 3–4, 8–9 ESV)

There is no way God will ever abandon us; there is no way He will ever give up on us. He can only give us hesed-lovingkindness. The way the WayMaker’s heart beats toward every struggler, and sufferer, and straggler wandering is nothing less than:

My compassion grows warm and tender. — Hosea 11:8 ESV

“God in whose hand are all creatures, is your Father, and is much more tender of you than you are, or can be, of yourself,” assured Puritan John Flavel.3

The clematis may curve and attach this way and that, and our hearts may curve away and grow cold toward God, but God says, “I am God and not a man, the Holy One in your midst, and I will not come in wrath” (11:9 ESV). The WayMaker’s ways are not our ways, they are higher, with stratospheric covenantal commitment, meteoric compassion, heaven-high hesed-lovingkindness. It’s not our perfect ways that persuade God’s heart, but it’s our imperfect ways that make His heart passionate for us. The WayMaker works in ways far higher and kinder than ours, and He never stops working to take care of us in ways that are working more good for us than we ever dreamed: “With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us?” (Romans 8:31–32 MSG, emphasis mine).

“I desire steadfast love [hesed] and not sacrifice” is what God says (Hosea 6:6 ESV). “For trust did I want, and not sacrifice and knowledge of God more than sacrifice.”* God, who gives us only hesed-lovingkindness, desires faithful, hesed-attachment love from us—that we trust the ways He takes care of us, that we acknowledge how He is more than a good Father, that He is a loving, kind Father, and that we are safe to go His way.

Cheap faith says one has only to believe. But the truth is: Real Christians aren’t merely the believers. Even the demons believe (James 2:19). Real Christians are actually those who turn, faithful followers who keep turning and turning, to be the faithful trusters. Christianity is never only the mental assent of faith in Jesus, without requiring the lived attachment, trusting faithfulness to Jesus. Why in the aching world don’t we give our trusting, hesed-faithfulness back to a God who hesed-loves us like this? Because we don’t intimately yada-know Him. To truly know Him is to truly trust Him. To bear witness to an honest revealing of God’s heart is to only find God’s heart for you appealing. It is a “misapprehension of God [which] is at the root of all hostility to God in the human soul.”4 If we really knew God, how could we ever have a divided heart?

How often do we want God to divide some Red Sea for us, yet we are the ones with a divided heart?"''

Matthew 7:13. G. Campbell Morgan, Hosea: The Heart and Holiness of God (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 1998), 19. John Flavel, Keeping the Heart: How to Maintain Your Love for God (Fearn, Scotland: Christian Heritage, 2012), 57. Robert Alter, The Hebrew Bible: A Translation with Commentary (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2018), Hosea 6:6. Excerpted with permission from WayMaker by Ann Voskamp, copyright Ann Morton Voskamp.

[lilscarlety]

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER

📚The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo📚

📝 by Taylor Jenkins Reid

“If you’re looking for a book to take on holiday this summer, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo has got all the glitz and glamour to make it a perfect beach read.” —Bustle

From the New York Times bestselling author of Daisy Jones & the Six—an entrancing and “wildly addictive journey of a reclusive Hollywood starlet” (PopSugar) as she reflects on her relentless rise to the top and the risks she took, the loves she lost, and the long-held secrets the public could never imagine.

Aging and reclusive Hollywood movie icon Evelyn Hugo is finally ready to tell the truth about her glamorous and scandalous life. But when she chooses unknown magazine reporter Monique Grant for the job, no one is more astounded than Monique herself. Why her? Why now?

Monique is not exactly on top of the world. Her husband has left her, and her professional life is going nowhere. Regardless of why Evelyn has selected her to write her biography, Monique is determined to use this opportunity to jumpstart her career.

Summoned to Evelyn’s luxurious apartment, Monique listens in fascination as the actress tells her story. From making her way to Los Angeles in the 1950s to her decision to leave show business in the ‘80s, and, of course, the seven husbands along the way, Evelyn unspools a tale of ruthless ambition, unexpected friendship, and a great forbidden love. Monique begins to feel a very real connection to the legendary star, but as Evelyn’s story near its conclusion, it becomes clear that her life intersects with Monique’s own in tragic and irreversible ways.

“Heartbreaking, yet beautiful” (Jamie Blynn, Us Weekly), The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo is “Tinseltown drama at its finest” (Redbook): a mesmerizing journey through the splendor of old Hollywood into the harsh realities of the present day as two women struggle with what it means—and what it costs—to face the truth.

Click here to read this full book

THE SEVEN HUSBAND OF EVELYN HUGO

———————————

5/5 Stars ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️

“People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth. When you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can show yourself to them, when you stand in front of them bare and their response is 'you're safe with me'- that's intimacy.”

This book is phenomenal. This book is spectacular. This book is outstanding. I have nothing negative to say about this book. It's a pure 5 star for me. I'm irrevocably astonished and astounded. I want to hug and kiss this book till I bleed. I couldn't leave it down. I just couldn't. Storytime. It's 12:36am, I have to wake up in 7 hours or so and I'm casually reading this book. I'm on page 233, 50 pages after it got amazingly good for me. And then this line makes its fucking appearance. "I have no idea that in less than a week, Evelyn Hugo will finish her story, and I'll find out what this has all been about, and I will hate her so much that I'll be truly afraid I might kill her." LIKE??? AFTER THIS LINE I HAD TO FINISH THIS BOOK. And I decided I would finish it. I would read more than 150 pages and finish it. So I went to my obligation the next day with 4 hours of sleep but I was happy about it. Because I knew I couldn't survive a whole day without finishing this book. I would die. This is the impact this book has had on me. Now, let's talk specifics.

Evelyn Hugo is finally ready to tell the truth about her glamorous and scandalous life. But when she chooses unknown magazine reporter Monique Grant for the job, no one in the journalism community is more astounded than Monique herself. Why her? Why now? Monique is not exactly on top of the world. Her husband, David, has left her, and her career has stagnated. Regardless of why Evelyn has chosen her to write her biography, Monique is determined to use this opportunity to jumpstart her career.Summoned to Evelyn’s Upper East Side apartment, Monique listens as Evelyn unfurls her story: from making her way to Los Angeles in the 1950s to her decision to leave show business in the late 80s, and, of course, the seven husbands along the way. As Evelyn’s life unfolds through the decades—revealing a ruthless ambition, an unexpected friendship, and a great forbidden love—Monique begins to feel a very a real connection to the actress. But as Evelyn’s story catches up with the present, it becomes clear that her life intersects with Monique’s own in tragic and irreversible ways.Historical fiction is my favorite genre of all time. I love it in every form, books, tv shows, movies. But not this kind of historical fiction, the Outlander and Ross Poldark kind of historical fiction. The older one, you could say. Also, historical fiction about wars and stuff, which is more recent. But I have never read something about the Old Hollywood. I have only watched movies and tv shows about it. So this was new territory for me. THE SEVEN HUSBANDS OF EVELYN HUGO … Read Now

#book review #romance books #books #bookislife #book blogger #bookish #bookworm #booklover #book quotes #bookworld #bookaholic #booklust #bookshelf #reading #long reads #reader insert #bestseller #historical romance #sapphic #lgbtq #adult contemporary #18+ only

[oskarwing]

I really wanna talk about the parent child relationships in Midnight Mass

I’m not sure if I’m good at writing this sorta Meta but here goes nothing. Very many spoilers follow.

Let’s start with the adults: 

First we have Erin who suffered so much at the hands of her mother and later because of her mother’s abuse. We don’t get much detailed info on Peggy Greene but from what we can gather she was a lot like Beverly Keane, who seemed to idolize her (though that probably got easier for her after Peggy was gone), in her self-righteous over-pious manner. She just happened to be Beverly with an alcohol problem and a daughter who she could take all her anger at life for not working out her way for God loving her just the same as everybody else out. The dove scene is really such a good scene. But Erin was stronger than her mother, stronger than the abuse that was about to repeat itself and when she found out that she would have a child of her own she left and tried her best to give her kid a better life than the one she had. And she found the strength I think with the help of the same God her mother most likely used as legitimation for her abuse (don’t get me wrong I believe it was Erin’s own strength but she also clearly found something in religion that helped her gather it) and it helped her to carve out a path for herself and her unborn child.  

Sarah’s relationship to her parents is such an interesting one because we get to see the end of it. The man who she believed to be her father has been dead for a long while and her mother is suffering through the late stages of dementia. And Sarah showed up for it. As a doctor she most likely knew what would be happening as soon as Mildred started to show the first symptombs but she wasn’t going to leave her mother. That kind of care for an elderly parent shows something that is proven in Mildred’s character time and time again: She is a very devoted parent and the love between mother and daughter flows both ways in every scene they are in together, after the birth of her daughter her world turned around Sarah and she loved her with all she had. There are a few scenes that show that Mildred’s understanding of the duty she felt towards her family came from the old values of her time. She wouldn’t have taken off with John and their child not for a lack of love but because in those times, in catholism still at least where I’m from, you can’t just marry a priest. You can’t just have a child with a priest eventhough you’re married and then fuck off with him. As a woman, as a wife and mother you have to stand with your husband, stand with your child and you have to stop running after fantasies I’m sure Mildred had. I’m saying this all from her perspective btw, I don’t necessarily think running away with John, in the way he wished to, would have been good for Sarah but honesty might have been and her old fashioned values were also what kept her from being truly honest with her daughter.  To John on the other hand Sarah is a fantasy, a dream he couldn’t reach. His daughter, his baby, so close and yet so far away getting to watch her grow into an adult but never being able to really be her father as in her Dad instead of her priest. And it’s painful to him, he clearly loved Mildred, loved Sarah but he was also kinda selfish in his love that in the end took Sarah away. At first he isolated his child by starring at her giving her the creeps and the feeling that she had done something wrong that he knew she was gay and dissaproved and then he took it upon himself to ‘cure’ Mildred in the same way he was. Sarah wanted to take care of her mother wanted to be there for her in those final months and John decided it was up to him to give Mildred a youth potion to make it so she’d never die. And with that he took away from Sarah what is without doubt a hard but for many people a very important last part of the relationship between child and parent. John was a complicated man and would maybe have been a great Dad he certainly showed a lot of fatherly love for his altar boys but he couldn’t have the family in the way he fantasized about and in the end it was that fantasy that made him act the way he did.   

Riley Flynn causes his parents a lot of pain. Him killing that girl in the beginning, his alcoholism, him simply not liking the place, the home they build for themselves through hard work causes the Annie and Ed so much pain and financial loss and you can see how tired they are, how much guilt they feel for failing their son. Ed calls out his own guilt and says that he doesn’t belive it could be Annie’s fault because ‘your mother’s a saint’ but what I truly love about Annie and Ed Flynn is that they both aren’t saints. As a mother Annie is very much overprotective and suffocating, wanting to keep her children on crocket island and hating the notion that they might leave her, even though she is kind and sweet and loving. And while Ed seems rather checked out as a father but he is the more honest parent, never talking down to Riley and telling him as it is, telling him about the pain he caused him while also admitting to the guilt he feels. The Flynns are flawed people even in their religious practice (I think the way Annie speaks about Ali showing up at church when Hassan seemed to be nothing but nice to her spoke very loudly to the fact that Annie is rather misguided sometimes) but they are good people at the core of it and their parenting might have been part of Riley’s way into alcoholism but it wasn’t only them. There were things they couldn’t change and things they had no influence over like his heart being broken by Erin running away, the sort of people he went out on parties with and so many other things...  Yes, they may have shaped their son in a way that made him vulnerable to addiction and the party scene of the stock and tech market and brought him to the point where he killed a child but it doesn’t happen through parenting alone and they also shaped him in the good ways. Him not losing himself when Pruitt changes him, him being brave enough to warn Erin, him standing up for what he believes in those things were also shaped by Ed and Annie. They are one of the best example of flawed but good hearted Christians I have seen in recent media and their portrayal was one of the most heartbreaking ones. 

Now the kids: 

Let’s start with Leeza. Little Leeza Scarborough who before it comes to her wonder gets treated with pity and overprotectiveness from her parents and the island community at large. Leeza was injured by Joe Collie transforming him into the island’s villain and her into the ever present victim.  What happened to her is without a doubt horrible and I understand why Wade and Dolly started to become these overprotective parents, why they were so easily sucked in to John’s and Bev’s scheme. Their little girl was almost taken from them eventhough Wade is the mayor, one of the most powerful people on the island he had no influence over what happened to Leeza even was the one who took her out that day and what followed the accident was as we can gather from their conversation with Sarah a lot of pain and financial burden though they say they would have done it all over for Leeza. In fact a lot of places in crockett island are wheelchair accesible and I am sure that Wade as mayor made it so (I can’t really imagine that a small place like the island was very inclusive though I may be wrong).  After Leeza is healed they don’t want to question in don’t want to think about what might have been the cause for it. In fact they stop questioning anything after that point, after Leeza walks again they are completely vulnerable to Bev’s manipulation and them letting that happen, them just going along with everything, Wade protecting John after he kills Joe long after Leeza forgave him and with her forgiveness send Joe on a better path is what in the end makes them lose her. Because Leeza isn’t that little victim who needs pity and help, she is a strong minded, strong willed young woman with a lot of wit who similar to Erin finds strength in her faith but in a way that isn’t devotion without question and when the Easter vigil is held she doesn’t follow her parents eventhough she loves them deeply. She forgives them I think, because that’s what Leeza’s character is about in it’s core but her parents were two of the instigators behind what happened on the island, without Wade’s protection John and Bev couldn’t have come as far as they did and they put their trust in them because they loved their daughter so much they didn’t stop to question if maybe what made Leeza walk again was also a bad thing. 

Ali and Hassan don’t have it easy and I as a white person really can’t speak much on the racism and religious discrimination they face.  I can say this I think: The first line spoken about Ali before we even really get to look at him is “You didn’t invite Aladin” and already sets us up for what both of them know: They are the outsiders. Not only because they just moved to the island but also because in their faith they are different from their peers and religion can often be a community building event for people before it is anything else. Ali starts balming his father a little for that, for not trying to fit in more with the community, for moving after his mother’s death and then not trying to be closer to the people around them and for the pain all the pain the two of them went through before Crockett island. It isn’t oly peer pressure though of course that brings Ali to St Patrick’s. Sure, Ali wanted to be part of the community but also desperately wanted to believe that there was a devine power who could if he just did it (it meaning faith) the right way he might find a way to avoid the pain of his parents. Hassan knew that and he warned him that that wasn’t how it worked. Hassan was a protective Dad and maybe he overdid it from time to time but his worries were never without reason, his need to keep his son safe from a world that hated him for a crime that happened when he wasn’t even born yet never unfounded and him wanting to make sure his kid kept the memory of his mother alive never anything but the wish of a griefing man and loving father. In the end when they pray together there is peace in them. They face their ends with the dignity Ali’s mother would have wished for and they face it as father and son. While Beverly the true religious terrorist of the story burns away without it. 

Warren is the youngest Flynn and it is never directly stated yet omnipresent that his coming of age happens in the shadow of his older brother’s mistake.  Annie warns him away from drinking when he goes out he in fact doesn’t drink. He never drinks because of what his brother did.  Warren would have been 12 when Riley killed that girl and so he would have seen and felt what his brother’s actions did to his parents fully without being yet old enough to maybe see the nuance.  Annie and Ed probably try to right the wrong they believe to have done in parenting Riley with Warren and that’s a lot for a kid. I do think it’s pretty usual that parents of multiple children especially when there’s a larger age gap try to do better with the younger children, but that isn’t fair is it?  Warren is his own person not a second chance to do it over.  And yet seemingly he does what is asked of him. He’s alter boy, he’s charming and helpful and sweet, he doesn’t drink (even when he does smoke pot) and he helps his father where he can with his work.  But in the end he feels guilty because he thinks he wasn’t enough and says at that last dinner he would have been different if he had known he wouldn’t see his family again. But Leeza is right they know and they love him and Warren deserved to not be perfect all the time. 

Littlefoot saved Erin and Erin payed her back with all the love she had. She was never born but she gave her mother the strength and willpower to leave.  In her speech to Joe Leeza said he reached through time and took things from her she didn’t even know she had yet.When Erin left her husband she reached through time and saved Littlefoot from a childhood like hers and when John gave Erin the angel’s vampire’s blood he reached through time and took away her child, a child who would have been loved and cared for. A child with an amazing mother and probably a great step-dad.  Littlefoot’s story is tragic because she never got one. 

#midnight mass #midnight mass spoilers #parents in midnight mass #I dunno man I just really love how they showed all these examples of parents

[sofreddie]

Scent From Above 5

Summary: Jensen finally gets what he wants.

Characters: Alpha!Jensen x Omega!Fan Reader

ABO BINGO: Marking

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Heat, Smut (Unprotected Sex, Mating, Knotting, Claiming/Marking, Breeding Kink), Dirty Talk

Word Count: 1,633

A/N: So this was only supposed to be five parts. But uh…there ended up being a double-dosing of smut (you're welcome). It also allowed me to squeeze in another @spnabobingo square - Marking - which, duh 🙄, why didn't I think of that before?! Anyway, so there will now be one additional part which will finish up the whole story.

PART 4

"Yours, Alpha," she breathed out, holding his gaze, letting him know she was ready, her skin electrified from his touch, her core throbbing for his attention.

"Yours," he responded, before diving in for an all-consuming kiss.

He guided her back until her calves hit the bed and she plopped down in a seated position. She looked up at him, stood before her in all his glory before her eyes traveled to the engorged cock that stood erect before her. She subconsciously licked her lips. Jensen chuckled as he wrapped one hand tightly around the base.

"You wanna suck my cock, pretty Omega?" he chuckled darkly, brushing the hair tenderly out of her face before tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of her head, "Open up," he commanded as he brought the tip to her lips.

She willingly obeyed, letting her Omega instincts take charge and placing her trust in Jensen. She opened her mouth and he slowly fed her his length until he was hitting the back of her throat. She hummed happily, hollowing her cheeks. He groaned, his hand tightening in her hair as he began pumping his hips along with her bobbing.

He was so wound up, and she was so fucking eager. He was so close to coming. He pulled her off of him with a pop and she immediately pouted.

"I wanted your cum," she whined.

"You'll get it," he promised, moving her up the bed to lay on the pillows. He kissed up her thighs, his hands framing her mound, "Gonna fill this sweet, little pussy, Omega," he took a deep breath of her scent and she blushed, enthralled and slightly embarrassed, "Claim you inside and out."

His tongue peeked out to taste her and she lost all coherent thought. He swirled his tongue around her nub, before flicking over it just once. He dragged his tongue down through her folds with a groan before diving deep inside her. He twisted his tongue, feeling her walls and tasting her slick. It was like her scent but concentrated. With fingers and tongue and unmatched enthusiasm, Jensen quickly brought her over the edge, wringing every bit of pleasure he could from her body as she thrashed and moaned.

While she caught her breath he crawled up her body, leaving warm, wet kisses in his wake and readorning her with his hickeys and love bites. When he reached her neck he settled his body against hers with a sigh.

He breathed deeply of her again. He dreamt of her scent. He clung to her shirt, desperately trying to wring every bit of scent he could from it. He nearly found himself in tears as its loss, affecting him in ways he'd never imagined.

He pulled back and focused his eyes on hers. She smiled warmly at him, her hands caressing him, her fingertips dipping into curves and lines with a worshipful touch.

He shifted his hips, dragging his cock along her folds before catching at her entrance. He locked eyes with her once more, cupping her face as he slowly slid home. Her mouth hung open in a silent gasp as he filled her.

She missed the feel of him inside her. She had played their weekend together over and over again in her mind. But her memories had let her down because he felt even more incredible than before, she was sure of it.

"So good," he moaned, gently kissing her neck where his hickey once lay. His favorite spot. His chosen spot, since that first night. He moved slow, their eyes locked as they simply felt and reconnected.

He wanted to take his time, to draw out every moment of their coupling. But she was still weak, her body desperate. He wanted to be a good Alpha and take care of her. She whined, clinging to him, needing more.

"I got you, Baby," he pecked her lips, turning her to her stomach and lifting her hips. She quickly and eagerly moved into presentation. He groaned at the sight, before hearing her whimper once more. The same heartbreaking sound she had made when he found her on the floor.

"I got you, Omega," he soothed her again as he took up his place behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her spine, before adjusting his hips and sliding home in one, smooth stroke.

She submitted to him completely and the Alpha rewarded her with the harsh and dominating pace her body craved. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hands planted firmly on her hips, keeping her in place and giving him leverage.

He groaned as he looked down where they connected, seeing his shaft glistening from her slick. Her pussy clutched at him hungrily, sucking him in deeper on every thrust.

"Jay, please," she begged, almost sobbing, "Please, want your knot, want your claim."

He snarled and fucker her harder, "What was that Omega?"

"Alpha!" she corrected herself, so close to the edge, "Alpha please."

Jensen brushed her hair away from her neck, licking over his chosen spot.

"Gonna claim you," he gave a final warning, "Gonna breed you Omega."

She gasped and moaned as her climax crashed over her, his words as impactful as his brutal mating. As her walls clenched tight around his throbbing shaft, he bit hard into her neck. His knot swelled rapidly, locking them tightly together as his cum flooded her womb.

He bit down harder, his hips still erratically thrusting as he rode out the waves. He was lightheaded and swimming with euphoria as he finally fulfilled the bond his body was craving.

They both slumped forward onto the bed, Jensen's body covering hers like a blanket, but she clearly didn't mind. She was practically purring beneath him as he carefully cleaned his mark, lapping at the wounds. He was attentive, careful, and thorough.

By the time he was satisfied with his work, she had fallen asleep. He chuckled, before rolling them on their sides. His knot tugged slightly as he spooned her. He breathed deeply of her once more, already finding notes of her scent changing, adapting to include his claim, his essence.

He knew she'd need him again, and soon. But with their coupling complete, she was safe. She was his.

Jensen smiled at Y/N as he finished washing the dishes. When she woke, Jensen made her shower and now was making her eat and hydrate. She whined cutely. But he knew there was more to taking care of her than just fucking her through her heat.

He was determined to show her that he was a good Alpha. That he meant his claim and stood by their bond. That he wanted her completely. He had been anxiously thinking about it since he woke.

"I want you to claim me too," he said once she was finished.

Her eyes went wide as she processed.

"What?"

"I want you to know that I'm yours as much as you are mine," he explained, pulling her into his arms, "Whenever you have doubts, I want you to see your mark and know that it's real and I'm yours."

"B-but…most Alphas don't-"

"I'm not most Alphas," he stated firmly, kissing her possessively. She melted into him and he scooped her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. He carried her to the couch and sat down with her in his lap.

"This is familiar," she chuckled, blushing profusely.

"Should have claimed you then," he breathed out, dragging his nose along her hairline as he breathed her in, "Then we never would've been apart. Your heat never would've got so bad," his voice shook as he remembered how scared he was.

She cupped his face in her hands, her eyes studying his own before she kissed him tenderly. She held his gaze as she slipped his cock from his boxer briefs. Using her other hand, she slid her panties to the side before sinking down on his length.

"Y/N," he moaned as his hands clutched her sides. His head rolled to lay against the back of the couch as he adjusted his hips, "You take charge," he told her with a smirk, submitting to her will. He needed her to understand they were partners, equals, mates.

He never failed to empower her. To make her feel greater than she did before, sexier, more confident. She couldn't believe her luck in having Jensen as an Alpha. She was quickly becoming addicted to the way he looked at her with stars and adoration in his eyes. It was the same way she looked at him.

It didn't take long for them to climb to that high together once more, their bodies quickly learning each other and adapting. Her eyes locked onto his exposed neck, his words from earlier echoing in her ears in time with the pumping of her blood.

Her eyes flashed to his, barely open slits as he succumbed to the pleasure. He nodded at her, tilting his head a little more and using his other hand to gently guide her by the back of the head, encouraging her mark.

She kissed the skin reverently before parting her lips, biting down and breaking into the skin as they both fell over the edge. Jensen hissed, his hips stuttering and knot popping before he gave into his own urges, renewing his claim.

"Does it hurt?" Y/N asked after they cleaned the marks. Her eyes were glued to her claim.

"No," he promised, pecking her lips and pulling her flush against him as they waited for his knot to go down. He'd wear her mark proudly. It wasn't conventional, but he didn't care in the slightest what anyone might think. She was his, and he was hers.

PART 6 (Final)

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

@fangirlxwritesx67

RPF:

@smoothdogsgirl

JENSEN TAGS:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

@slamminmine

@deanjensenficsandart

@woodworthti666

@charred-angelwings

@deandreamernp

@laycblack

#spnabobingo #scent from above #part 5 #alpha!jensen x omega!reader #jensen x reader #a/b/o dynamics #smut

[ushidoux]

Be My Last - Iwaizumi x Reader

Summary: You have trouble getting over a past relationship and it’s preventing you from moving forward. (~3.5k words)

Warnings: stubborn ass reader, very slight nsfw at the end

A/N: It took me a long time to write this because I have trouble with fluff and also trouble with characterizing Iwa lmfao, I might need a second watch. I hope you enjoy! Happy Thanksgiving!

Part 1|| Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5

---

“Are you serious?! Are you really saying no to this face?”

Your best friend was now leaning so far across the fast food dining table that she had practically climbed on top of it, holding up her phone just inches from your face to force you to take a better look at the picture of the blind date she had arranged for you. 

Your eyes crossed uncomfortably by reflex and you pulled back sharply to grab the phone from her and take a better look. On second glance, you had to admit that the guy standing next to Oikawa was quite good-looking, a couple inches shorter but with a sturdier build, sharper features and just enough scowl in his facial expression to intrigue you. 

In fact, he was exactly your type.

“Just one date,” your friend insisted. “You’ve been pining over your ex for almost a year now! You don’t have to fall in love but maybe a small distraction? Plus, double dates would be so fun, come onnnnn~”

Your friend was only rarely this animated so you knew she really wanted this but the idea of even considering romance again after being dumped so harshly before was so undesirable that you stubbornly shook your head instead and took another bite of your burger.

“___, please?”

You frowned, and your friend’s pout grew deeper once she realized there was a pretty good chance you wouldn’t budge about this. After all, you’d rejected every single person that so much as looked in your direction so effectively these past few months that it had essentially become an afterthought.

She leaned back in her seat, occupying herself now with picking out a particularly long fry off of the platter you were sharing, trying to minimize her disappointment. Despite how much she hoped you would say yes, she could understand why you felt the way you did.

“I’m sorry,” you offered, sipping on your drink. She let out a defeated sigh.

“Well, I’ll try to figure out a compassionate way to let Iwa now that you’re not interested. Honestly, Oikawa will probably be more offended by it than me.”

At this last comment, her eyes twinkled softly with a mild amusement and she started to text her boyfriend. However, knowing that it would possibly be a bigger deal to reject Oikawa’s best friend right off the bat than to just endure a date once, you reconsidered.

“Fine! Stop, I don’t need Tooru yelling in my ears. I’ll go.”

She smiled. You’d fallen right into her trap.

---

Exactly 72 hours later almost to the minute, you found yourself standing before the duo of childhood friends at the entrance of a town fair, your friend by your side.

Oikawa’s partner-in-crime was, to both your surprise and chagrin, even better looking in person. Kinder too, if you discounted the glare he shot at Oikawa when he introduced him mock affectionately as ‘Iwa-chan, his very best friend in the whole wide world’. You stifled a laugh as Iwa released Oikawa from a headlock, and introduced yourself politely to him noticing the very faint pinking of the ears that accompanied the softening of his expression as he shifted his attention to you.

A small fluster you couldn’t help but find cute was evident in his voice as he shared his full name - Iwaizumi Hajime. Strike one. 

Strike two was the careful distance he left between you two as you walked through the street fair, just steps behind Oikawa and your friend who trekked confidently and comfortably linked hand in hand. His questions were respectful but pointed, like he truly wanted to get to know you as much as possible, and as he listened he leaned in just so, making sure to hear you clearly over the bustle of the busy crowds.

He helped you with your safety belts as you strapped in together on small thrill rides and you could catch his furtive glances in the corner of your eyes as you laughed and screamed.

A part of you wondered if it was too quick, if it was a bad omen that he already appeared smitten with you despite having just met. However, you had missed the feeling of someone liking you genuinely and explicitly so, dating back from even before you had started having problems in your last relationship, so you appreciated it wholeheartedly.

Strike three was him immediately setting a time and a date to meet again, without the hovering presence of your best friends, which he emphasized loudly to listening ears behind you (Oikawa made his disappointment at being excluded quite apparent by groaning loudly within earshot).

“I really enjoyed spending time with you today, ___.”

It wasn’t too much, wasn’t too little and wasn’t too soon.

“So did I.” You replied with a smile more genuine than you’d had for months.

---

Date two went as smoothly as date one.

Dinner and a movie, a classic. Iwa had chosen a psychological thriller that you had been looking forward to for a couple weeks and prior to meeting you’d started to text back and forth regularly about theories, so thereafter sprang forth endless spirited debates. As the evening progressed, you noticed him yielding earlier and earlier, and you noticed that he got quieter as the night went on, preferring to sit back and watch you talk. You couldn’t tell if it was the few cocktails with dinner but soon you were distracted by eyes that rested on you easily with an accompanied smile. It was enough to make your face grow warm.

“Am I talking too much?” You asked, sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I get like this when I’m excited.”

“I love hearing you talk,” he replied with a small laugh. “No one can talk as much as Oikawa so don’t worry.”

Your smile spread from ear to ear and you could feel your bruised heart grow ever so slightly.

---

Date three, four and five had you swept off your feet and you found yourself falling between hikes, picnics and aquarium trips. 

Which was why when your friend called you to gloat about how she was right about you two all along, you realized just how deep you had fallen and almost instantly, that familiar fear that you had been nursing for the past year settled back into your consciousness.

You couldn’t bear another heartbreak. The thought of Iwa’s warm smiles becoming addictive and constantly craving the feel of his hands on your skin only to then be discarded like a participation ribbon hung heavy on you.

“I.. I don’t think I can keep seeing him,” you said, in sudden realization, despite the fact that you had been gushing about your dates just minutes earlier.

You could hear a pause on the other end of the line, and then your friend asked softly, “Is it because you still miss him?” 

The other him. Of course you did, you still lived in the apartment the two of you had shared right after college, having given yourself multiple excuses not to move out. You hadn’t even bothered to change the decorations you’d bought together and thus every part of this place reminded you of him. 

You even watered the plants he had left behind every morning. You couldn’t tell if it was because you had grown attached to them or worse - because you thought maybe, just maybe, if he ever came back, he’d want to know that you were always nursing your love.

“I’m… not sure,” you replied.

Your friend sighed audibly into the phone.

“You’re missing out on someone great, but I’ll support you regardless.”

---

Your graduate classes ended late the next evening, and you stumbled into your apartment with mild exhaustion, kicking off your shoes and slipping off your jeans before plopping on your bed.

Iwa had said he wanted to come see you, and even though just a few days ago you had been excited at the prospect of spending time with him in your own home, your stomach fluttered with a different type of alarm when you considered the fact that if you were to tell him you were no longer interested in letting whatever was between you bloom, it would have to be now.

Would it be better to tell him over text message or on the phone or in person? You didn’t want to see the look on his face when you hurt him; you knew it would change your resolve. 

If you called him on the phone, would you be able to withstand hearing the disappointment in his voice? Would he demand a reason, and would he tell you your weak one wasn’t enough?

If you sent him a simple text and then blocked his number, would you be the awful person too chickenshit to say the words to his face?

Your phone buzzed just as you were paralyzed with your choices.

I’m 20 minutes away. How was your class?

You froze.

20 minutes to make a decision. Would you have him come all this way just to drop him without a very good reason in the comfort of your own home?

You stared at your phone for five minutes longer, perseverating, only to be startled out of your trance when you saw his name flash over the front. You forgot you had read receipts on; it had never been a problem before.

“Hey, are you okay?” His voice dripped of concern. “You read but didn’t answer.”

“Y-yeah, of course! Class was good… I’ll see you in a bit.”

---

You soon wished you hadn’t let Iwa into your apartment. Now that he was here snuggled with you on the couch, close enough that you could take in his scent, all you could think of was the thought of his lips on yours.

5 dates and you hadn’t yet kissed. Maybe that was for the best, you were planning to break up with him anyway, weren’t you?

You weren’t exactly sure when you had crept so close to each other, but your head now rested gently on his shoulder and his hand had at some point snaked around your waist to pull you against him. You could feel your heart pound in your chest as you stayed close in the dark, and maybe you could feel his own heart beat, steady as his breathing despite the tension building in the air.

You had lost track of the plot of the movie on your flat screen long ago, too preoccupied with the flurry of potential ensuing scenes between you in your head.

What would stop you from going full speed ahead? The fear that you wouldn’t matter enough to him once months came to pass and he learned just how far short you fell from his perfect perception of you? Or that you would once again find yourself in darkness, wondering how many times you’d open your heart only to wish you had kept it guarded?

Or maybe it was the reality that you weren’t sure that you really wanted to move on?

Iwa was a good person, he didn’t deserve your hesitation.

He shifted ever so slightly beside you and in the backlight of the flashing scenes on the television screen, you could see his eyes settle on your lips.

“Is it okay if we-,” he started, only to be interrupted by the fact that you had already pulled him in by the shirt collar and were lost in the taste of him on your tongue. You could tell he was surprised, but Iwa leaned into your kiss, pulling you now fully onto his lap and holding you steady by the waist as the two of you made out. 

Your hands crept up to his face, fingers gently trailing then cupping the curve of his jaw, and the longer you kissed, the more of him you wanted. When his hands started to tug just slightly at the edge of your shirt to warn you he was going underneath, you tensed but nodded to allow him to palm a breast and roll a nipple between two fingers.

A soft moan left you, renewed when Iwa’s lips left your mouth to kiss a spot just before your earlobe, and his other hand pressed firmly into the small of your back to secure you even closer to him, close enough that you could feel his bulge pressing through his jeans and against your body. Knowing that you could feel him, he whispered breathily into your ear:

“I won’t continue if you don’t want me to.”

Did you want him to continue?

You pulled back from him to study his face, glowing with an earnest desire for you and suddenly you felt so guilty. 

“I… I think we should stop here,” you choked out, ignoring the warmth in your cheeks and the flicker of disappointment in his face, and you slowly climbed off him, embarrassed as you stood on your feet.

He didn’t ask why and replied with acceptance.

“Okay.”

---

What he didn’t accept was you finally telling him you no longer wanted to see him in a text message hastily conjured in the middle of the night after a particularly hard day.

He called immediately and you let the phone ring, biting your lip the entire six rings it took for him to give up. He didn’t leave a voice message, but sent you a short text.

I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Can we please talk?

You fought back the urge to cry as you turned over to go to sleep.

He called again in the morning, and when you ignored his call for a second time, the unreasonable part of you waited for a follow-up voicemail or text message which never came. Good for you. You couldn’t understand your own feelings right now and you didn’t deserve to have him sort them out for you.

At least if you acted like a bitch, he would drop you before you could change your mind.

---

“A text message? Really?”

Your friend had dropped by the following Saturday morning for brunch and while you had dreaded this conversation, you had expected it to happen and steeled yourself for the admonishment. You shrugged, avoiding looking at her in the eyes and focusing on watering the plants at your windowsill. Your friend watched you carefully, irritation bubbling within her in response to your stubborn silence.

“I wouldn’t be so insistent if I knew you didn’t like him, but you do! Everyone can see it!”

You didn’t reply, opening your blinds instead. Plants needed lots of sun in addition to water.

“___, I didn’t want to be harsh but he’s not coming back. Even if it’s not with Iwa, please… please get over him.”

You finally turned and gave her a meaningful look, tears now coming to your eyes. Your friend’s mouth fell slightly ajar and realizing just how harsh her truth had been, she got up from your kitchen table and walked over to you to envelop you in a hug as you came undone.

---

A total of three weeks passed, and you finally admitted to yourself that you missed Iwa but it was clearly too late to fix anything. Calling him up would just get you ignored (and rightfully so) and you couldn’t bear to send another text message after ghosting him. Instead you watered your ex’s plants and focused on your classes.

Your best friend had forgiven you for your cruelty even though she let you know she was still suffering from Oikawa’s wrath on your behalf, so instead you decided to distract yourself by going out with other friends and picking up new hobbies.

A girl you were getting to know from class was very excited about a new high-end gym that had opened with nice amenities including a pool and a sauna and free physical training sessions with membership so you indulged her by going as a guest on a weekend.

You had to admit that the place was beautiful, and you made a beeline for the elliptical, a tried and true contraption. She had been making a fuss about one of the instructors being attractive which you had in all honesty paid very little attention to, until she dragged you by the arm to hiss into your ear.

“There he is, don’t look too obviously.”

You turned to find yourself staring straight at Iwaizumi Hajime, physical trainer.

“Oh shit, he’s looking at you,” she whispered, but you were already making your way to the exit. “Wait, where are you going?”

Your pace had gone from a walk to almost a run.

“____!” you heard him call behind you as you scurried as fast as you could off of the premises. Embarrassing. So, so embarrassing.

His voice was starting to sound aggravated, and your run stuttered to a standstill. What were you doing? Running from someone because you told them you didn’t want to date them?

He caught up to you in the parking lot and he no longer smiled; there was a tinge of mild irritation that graced his facial expression as he looked at you.

“Please stop running from me. You don’t need to make it awkward… I... I’m not thinking about it.” He glanced away at the last statement, but you knew he was being sincere while you were being ridiculous.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, and you thought maybe you would say more but he cut you off.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Have a good workout. If you need any help, I’m available, as are the other instructors.”

Professional and curt, he bowed before turning, and before you realized what you were doing, you found yourself tugging onto the sleeve of his shirt to hold him back. When he looked back to you again, while he didn’t give you the fierce scowl he reserved for Oikawa, his expression was still harsh as he looked down at you, waiting to see what you had to say.

What did you want to say? You already said you were sorry, there wasn’t much else to add.

Words failed you and you recoiled ever so slightly. He sighed audibly, and turned fully to face you.

“___, please don’t play with my feelings.”

You deflated as he waited just a few more moments for you to come up with the courage to say you still wanted him, and when you were unable to come up with the words, he bowed again, and returned to the building. 

Moments later, you texted your friend to tell her you were sorry, but you were going home immediately.

---

It was a few minutes past 9pm and you had all but forgotten the sting of Iwa’s words as you focused on homework, listening to lo-fi music to help you concentrate. Your phone buzzed once, and you expected maybe your classmate to yell at you again for ditching her, but instead you found a message from Iwa. 

I’m sorry for speaking to you that way.

Your heart thumped hard once in your chest, and you flipped your phone over to get back to work, but it was too late. Your concentration was shot for the night.

I’m ready to listen to whatever you have to say, a second message read.

What would happen if you wore your heart on your sleeve just one more time? 

Iwa called you before you could call him, and this time you picked up, breathing a hesitant “Hello?” into the phone.

“___, I like you. A lot,” he paused, as those words sank into your heart. “I’m sorry, I wanted to get that out of the way.”

“I do, too,” you replied just as quickly. 

Another pause. You swallowed hard and continued,

“I just don’t want to hurt you.”

His reply was fast. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

You frowned. “You don’t understand… I still think I have some unresolved feelings for someone else, and I just… I don’t want to wrong you in the long run.”

Another pause. You pressed your eyes shut, anticipating the worst, whatever it was. It felt as though you were on the line for ages, until suddenly Iwa finally spoke.

“Try me.”

“What?” Your shock was audible, and he repeated himself. 

“Use me if you need to.”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying. 

“But-”

“I know we’ve only been seeing each other for a short time, but I can’t explain it… I know I’m willing to risk it.” The confidence in his voice was almost shocking, and it made your heart swell. 

“Hajime…” 

“May I come over?”

---

The conversation ended with Iwa promising you that he’d make you forget your ex, your faces now just inches from each other, him hovering above you as you laid on your back in the comfort of your bed, eyes feasting on his exemplary physique. Starting up where you left off just three weeks prior, you held onto him for dear life as his hips rolled against you, his body pistoning into you carefully and precisely, his hands gentle and steady, and both of your hearts full.

If you were worried about using him, then don’t. Use him as much as you need to. He was giving you permission, is what he said.

Would you take advantage of him? 

Now that you were in his embrace, you found it unlikely: for the very first time in a year, you knew that while you weren’t in love yet, you could feel yourself falling very, very soon.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwa x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #mae.writing #haikyuu! #not sfw #series: be my last

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|fifteen.

chapter fifteen: weeds. 

↳ flower meanings: 

Daisy: new beginnings  Thistles: protection buttercups : childish  white clover: happiness 

chapter summary: the stories of the wallflowers and who we are supposed to blame

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angst, mentions of sex, UNRELIABLE authors

word count: 9K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER: none

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

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I know it took me forever to write this, it was so difficult to write this chapter. I KNOW IT’S UNUSUAL, but please read between the lines because I am trying to tell the story through everyone’s eyes. And EVERYTHING has a reason I swear. ESPECIAL THANKS TO @laurieteddy​ ( @erodasghosts​ ) for helping me out wit this, go thank her, there woudln’t be any chapter, 

tags aren’t working, please leave feedback asdakd

People often tend to ignore the wild daisies, thistles or buttercups that dare to pop in the road, people often think of them as rather a plague, or rather too common to be interested in them. Most people try not to look at them. But when they are combined and together they can create the most beautiful bouquet. 

Some people, like Harry, however like to stop and stare and collect them, wonder how they grow in the most unsuitable places. Harry was someone who could spread love so easily, when he was a wallflower himself. Not easily noticed. A crestfallen Harry had been trying to figure out what to do, for a while now. He hadn’t been able to grow his love around anyone lately, because he’d lost his favorite flower. How would he grow daisies when the daisy did not want to grow anymore. 

Emma was one of those daisies that people often ignored. So spectacular she managed to bloom even when all the odds were against her, in the most odd places. Like daisies in the path as they managed to outgrow the asphalt, or daisies in window corners, or in random fields where people like to do picnics. 

Often people ignored her for she was outshined by other magnificent flowers. Even the night before, she’d been outshined by another flower who had just joined the game. 

Emma had been outshined by a particular flower for a while now, she did not resent her in any way. Though she could not hide her appetence, for it had come and gone so many times by now. Why would anyone stare at a daisy like her? She would wonder. 

Emma often thought of y/n to be a sunflower, unique, beautiful and vedirit, the flower that has sun in its own name because even the sun is outshined sometimes. A flower that searches for the sun, for the spotlight. Emma, a daisy was often outshined by a magnificent sunflower. Because people often think daisies can keep blooming even when they are stepped on. 

Timmy took Emma for granted. Harry had been so delicate, until he decided that he needed to know why sunflowers grew so tall. 

According to gardeners daisies are hardy, drought-tolerant plants that provide years of gorgeous, classic charm. Sure. Emma was all of that, she was tolerant but she also wanted to be loved. Very loved and she deserved it. She was such a magnificent human being who dared to pop out in the darkest situations. 

However, Emma understood why y/n got the attention. Sunflowers were also drought-tolerant but they don’t bloom that easily. It depends on the soil, how you water them… and all the care plants need. But once they bloom, such a whimsical and lyrical flower. 

Emma knew why Tim and y/n had not worked out. And Emma knew why Tom and her would work. 

Timmy liked peonies. Y/N was not a peony. 

Tom liked yellow flowers. Sunflowers, more often than not, are yellow.  

Emma did not understand, if Harry loved daisies…. Why didn't they work out? 

Did Harry truly love daisies or had he settled for the tiny version of a sunflower, the one with less impact. The one that could bloom easily. The one he didn’t have to water that often. The one flower that didn’t need the spotlight. 

Emma would replay that night over, and over. The night that champagne had been spilled because someone had dropped the glass, the night that every heart had been broken. And she wondered how not even Harry had been able to turn the disaster into a beautiful evening, because everything had been dropped. The night everyone had burned, the beautiful garden had turned into chaos, a war. A war she did not wish to be a part of. 

Emma wished to be a sunflower. And it was ironic given how many times y/n had told Emma she wanted to be like her, y/n did not see how thrilling and exciting her life was. How Emma though, knew it complicated, longed for the drama and the story and… everything. 

Sure, her and Harry had had a lovely story, but y/n and Tom? Even y/n and Timmy. Her stories were worth telling. That’s why she was bloody telling it. Full of plot twists and drama and fire. A story that kept everyone on the edge. 

And it wasn’t jealousy, it’s just— Emma was frustrated. She was just not burning in her story. She was boring and though she tried to shine and shine, she just—was taken for granted, because daisies aren’t unique. They’re delicate, though. Easy to bloom and easy to break. 

She did not want to be taken for granted. No, she wouldn’t. But maybe Harry still liked the sunflower. Or he had once, so how could he like daisies over sunflowers? 

Harry, was one big mystery to Emma, how he grew into her like poison ivy. Without poison, and flowers and just tangled into her. Emma thought Harry’s love was like a good plague, one that kept flowering through her. And growing into one couldn’t get out. 

Emma missed him, Emma missed kissing Harry. And though Emma often was against kisses, because she believed kisses were only but a hoax to get tricked into phony romance. Emma always said to beware good kissers, because you might end up thinking you’re in love. 

Emma knew that's probably what had happened to y/n, Tim had been just too good of a kisser for her, that she ended up believing she was in love with him. Lips hold poison that becomes addictive. Sometimes that addiction becomes toxic, which is what Emma believed happened to Tim. He had miscomprehended his own situation, he was not in love anymore, he was an addict to y/n. 

Or… rather, he didn’t want to accept that he hadn’t been enough sunlight for the sunflower. Sunflowers turn to the sun. Maybe Tom was the closest thing to the sun for her, maybe that’s why y/n shined the most when she was with him, her smile was the brightest, and she was the warmest. Emma knew how y/n’s smile would linger every time Tom made her smile, she’d noticed it, even on set when she was trying to hide it. She wasn’t subtle, y/n’s glance would look for Tom, and when he was around, she’d try to hold her breath. She… shined. Because sunflowers turn to the sun.

Daisies, however,search for unusual places. And Emma had searched for the most unusual place to bloom now. 

Emma had slept with Josh for a simple reason, he wasn’t a good kisser and kissing gets more intimate than sex. For Emma, a kiss could tell if you could fall in love. Kissing was but the bond of two people’s secret merging into one. 

Emma was tired, she wanted the talking to stop with Harry and just… kiss him. That’s all she wanted, but her pride was too loud. She wanted to be like the sunflower, who could easily forgive. But Emma was terrified, because she’d never been able to love like this before, and the light was still flickering. 

Emma had talked to Cherry, or rather… Listened to her, and she wondered however could she blame her. Cherry, Cherry was another victim outshined by the sunflower. Cherry was just another casualty drawn by the war, and her heartbreak, could be just as powerful. But of course, no one cared about her. She was the villain. Emma had listened to Cherry. Cherry was not in love with Tom, Emma could tell. She’d been fooled by a kiss, but no, she was not in love. Cherry had only been blinded by Tom. 

Had Emma been a villain at some sort of point? Pushing Tim and Y/N together, even if Emma knew that Tim and y/n would eventually break? 

Emma had been blinded because she knew she couldn’t lose Harry. And god, it hurt. So much, and she was confused and she needed to scream to finally be noticed. There is the inexplicable pain that comes when you don’t acknowledge it, and avoiding it won’t erase the problem, it makes it grow more and more. 

Emma did not understand why she had tried to avoid it, getting drunk, dressing up, taking long walks and singing, but she was not okay. And maybe it was finally sinking. Emma was a flower that was drying out, that was reminded of the greatest love one could have ever dreamed of. Maybe Emma had learned too much of the sunflower, but now she felt it, how Emma was now made of Harry, too. 

Emma hadn’t smiled since she’d left him, and she wished she had tried to mend things before, but Emma felt like it would take her nowhere because maybe her love had not been enough for Harry, and to feel worthless takes one strength, and Emma was getting tired of pretending she was strong. 

Probably not even Tim had noticed it, how she had stopped dressing a certain way or why she couldn’t watch certain films, she had had a haircut, and how she still couldn’t explain it to herself. Why had the fairytale faded? Days turned into night, and there she had been again, kissing another stranger. 

Emma had her head underwater and until now she noticed she couldn’t breath. The daisy was not there anymore. 

Emma never cried, but she did this one time, with a cigarette burning out in between her fingers, with the tulips in her nightstand dried out, listening to Tim complaining about Tom, whatever he tried to say Emma had not listened. 

Someone had shown up later that night, the door had rang, probably y/n willing to talk about her latest decision, Emma felt some sort of fear. Had y/n spent the entire day with Harry? 

Tim had looked up, too. Y/N could’ve forgotten her key, was she there? Emma was not sure why that had made her feel unsteady, after all this time, did she believe y/n would go for Harry? 

Timmy went to open the door and he seemed… calm. Not sure what Emma had expected, probably a crying y/n that only longed for a bottle of cheap wine for herself as they sat on the floor, near the couch, and then they would end up listening to old 80’s songs, or re-watching some poorly made netflix show that probably didn’t deserve the attention, but was good enough to have as a background. 

That was what Emma had expected. To be yet again pushed aside. 

“I’ll… want me to get the door?” Tim asked. 

Emma shook her head, knowing that y/n would not want to see Tim. Emma stood up. And it hadn’t been what she had expected.  Yet, she was filled with doubts. Had y/n… given up on Tom and decided to go with Harry? 

What happened? Had she not talked to Tom? Had she spent the day with Harry? They must have. 

How—how did the sunflower manage that? 

How could it only take them a day and be fine with it? 

There was a slight hint of jealousy over Emma, which was completely understandable. The girl had gone through so many times of being outshined by her, even y/n’s sadness had to outshine Emma’s. 

But it wasn’t y/n at the door. 

Because probably no one had cared enough to care about the wallflowers, but they had to solve it. 

And it had taken another fire to get that other wallflower to Emma’s door. 

The night before, the one thundering storm that had crashed in the other household. But it had ceased. 

Before Emma had opened the door, the other weed like flowers had had a conversation, hours before. The other casualties had been having a conversation while Tom and y/n were enjoying a sunset, everyone else was dreading the darkness the night would bring. 

Before they could even think of the solution Tom and y/n had made, it seemed like the conversation of their unpredictable mess was making them flow. Merely minutes before Tom and y/n had come back home.

James, another wallflower himself,  had spent the day of the storm with Clark and Sam, and though they seemed calm, and they had had what could be called a good day, he couldn’t stop his nerves. James was often too protective of his sister and he would not stop by now. Though, he had also been very protective of Tom. 

They went home, after Harry had warned them the other pair had left to solve their problem elsewhere. Though it was selfish, the four of them wished they could solve it for the sake of the group. 

James was worried about his sister, and he now had to worry for the impression Clark had of him and the drama. James didn’t want Clark to be involved in that drama. 

Clark, however, had been possibly the only one that understood the situation. Outsiders often see the wider picture and notice things we don’t. To Clark it was clear that the people around Tom and y/n had been their doom. Clark was not a wallflower. But he didn’t know that and he did not care. 

Clark was someone, very much like Harry, and Clark was someone who actually liked thistles. Thistles are often disregarded because of their prickles, and not very pretty among many flowers.

Clark often knew that everyone thought James was a prick. He was, for the matter, but it was often because James liked to protect himself and those around him, building fences to keep them safe. 

“I think, James, you do not give enough credit to them,” Clark said. “They managed to go from mortal enemies to a very adorable couple. What I’ve seen so far is two people who love each other so much that they grew past their hatred which, I may have been a witness to when we first started dating, those two could not be in a room without throwing knives at each other and now the way they look at each other reminds me so much of us, even I was slightly jealous of their glances. So secretive and loving.” 

Maybe they all tried to ignore that, how they’d turned arguments into flirting, and translated smirks into smiles. 

James sighed, “they haven’t changed. Plus, they—slept with other people, and our cousin?” 

Sam was quietly sitting across them, scrolling through his phone. 

Harry snorted a chuckle, “Do you think they will get out of this one?” 

“Yes,” Sam was the one to speak now. 

James rolled his eyes, “and then they’ll keep being idiots.” 

“Love changes us, idiot,” Clark said. “Look at you, before I met you, you’d be hooking up with a different person every bloody night,” he chuckled. 

James rolled his eyes, “are you slut shaming me?” 

Sam chuckled at the statement. “You /were/ a slut.” 

James rolled his eyes, “shut up.” 

“No, but I mean, when we first—started dating I was also scared of not being—You know, I’m boring—“

“You’re not boring,” James interrupted. Because he wasn’t. 

“But I am not like you are—you—you and I are very different, you are a very fun person, though sometimes you bloody decide to act all grown up to y/n, you’re still an idiot.” 

“Always acting so grown up,” Sam intruded. “As if you knew what you were doing.” 

“I do know!” James complained. 

Harry laughed, “you do not.” 

“Especially when it comes to y/n,” Sam said. “That’s the least you know.” 

Harry, also standing nearby, rolled his eyes and nodded. 

“No, no, that’s not true, I think you do know,” Clark pointed out. “But you are too worried to see that this is—Look, okay not right now, but I do think your sister and—“Clark turned to Sam and Harry. “And your brother are so in love but they kept listening to all of you and ended up sabotaging themselves.” 

“They’re idiots,” Harry finally commented. 

“So is James and look at us,” Clark pointed out. 

James chuckled, “are you done insulting your fiancé?” 

“I’m not insulting you,” he kissed his cheek. “My point is, you changed and we adapted and we became this magnificent couple, but it’s not always been easy.” 

James stayed quiet, he knew that. It had not been rainbows and butterflies but they’d managed to come through.

Clark watched him, James was often too insecure of everything and built walts and pricked anyone who tried to tumble them down, Clark included. And James often did the same thing with y/n, trying to hide her from the world, and always trying to be the bigger person. 

“I think their problem is the exact problem of ours,” Clark continued. “While everyone here is meddling in their relationship, you sister didn’t even know we were serious.” 

Clark and James had had a nice relationship but every obstacle on their way had almost been powerful enough to break them apart. However each time they had outgrown it, their relationship had come stronger. That’s probably why Clark believed in the other pair. But Clark also believed James had overprotected y/n and not let her make her own decisions, maybe y/n had tried to convince herself to love Tim because her own brother had told her to. Maybe y/n had doubted Tom because her own brother told her to. 

“I…” James sighed. “I know this kind of stuff happens to y/n, and Tom and y/n specifically, look I didn’t bring you that one time at the engagement party and look what happened, I am--That’s the thing, Tom and y/n always… Even when they weren’t dating we were always on the edge of what they will do next, look at us now I don’t know what they will come up with tonight.” 

Harry sighed, and rolled his eyes, he did not want to keep being part of that conversation. He left. 

Clark did understand why James had been so keen on having their relationship so private. James was scared of the other obstacles that he could not control. James did not trust his sister that much, not with relationships. 

Even when Y/N was dating Tim, James had told Clark how he thought the guy was perfect for her but that he didn’t trust y/n. Maybe James did know why y/n couldn’t love Tim back as much as Tim loved her. 

“What I’ve seen is them so in love, and I can tell she truly loves him and is not forcing herself to love him,” Clark said. 

James frowned. “What?” 

Clark took a deep breath, “I feel like y/n—I, look, I’m not—“Clark gulped. 

Sam frowned “what?” 

“I—Okay, I met y/n when she was in another relationship,” Clark reminded them. “With Tim.” 

“She loved Tim,” James said. “Tim—“

“No, I know, I know, but I see y/n just—she is so free when she is with Tom, and I met Tom before I met any of you.” 

James probably understood this. James had criticized y/n when she was dating Tim. But James loved Tim because he had loved y/n, so unconditionally, and Clark had pointed it out to James, how Tim would go to the end of the world for her. 

Which is what James would do for Clark. And what Clark would do for James. But Clark had always known that y/n wouldn’t for Tim. Because it seemed that every time she dressed up for Tim, she wished she was dressing up for someone else. 

“So?” Sam questioned. 

But Clark knew that Tom and y/n would go to the end of the world for each other, and they had proved it several times now. And Clark knew that this was the first time y/n did not do what her brother told her to do, this was her fighting for her own heart and this was her not wanting to be under protection of her brother. 

“I think Tom and y/n will work it out, I don’t think it’s easy, but—I think that both of them, if they’ve outgrown everything else, they will outgrow this and you should be supportive whatever their decision is,” Clark stated. 

“And if they break up?” Sam questioned, “what will happen to us?”

What would happen to them. Clark knew that probably was what James feared the most. James and Tom had always been friends, there had always been a type of bond between them. It was even weird to him seeing him and his sister so foolishly in love. James knew he would have to say goodbye to Tom, even if he was going to ask him to be the best man. James would have to let Tom go. 

And James wondered how y/n would be. Y/N had spent her whole life in love with Tom, her whole life had been wrapped around that fact. James knew. So what would happen if it ever happened? 

James and Tom had always been friends. 

Sam and y/n had been friends for as long as they could recall, always making fun of each other, building the funniest of anecdotes. Sure everyone knew Harry and y/n had always been best friends. But barely people acknowledged how close Sam and y/n were. 

Sam was always left on the outside, probably because he always liked to avoid trouble. Sam, more often than not, was considered to be the most childish in the group. Sam was not childish, he just simply did not understand. Sam was not ignored. Buttercups are loved, though sometimes their love is spread too much and people don’t know what they have to do with it. The problem is when it becomes too much and often, people don’t know what to do with it. 

Sam had distanced because he was one of the few people who did not stand y/n and Tom, long before they were dating. He did not stand their bickering, he hated taking sides. Of course everything had made sense when they had confessed they were madly in love but Sam didn’t quite figure it out. How could anyone hate and then love? 

For Sam, it had not made any sense, partly. He had known y/n was in love with Tom, her glance was so obvious and then when he had looked back at it, it made perfect sense. 

Though she had despised Tom, every now and then Sam would notice y/n hide a smile. 

Sam had always tried to figure everything out, and his own imagination often led to conclusions that would drive him insane. Like a child, he always asked the questions. 

How? How could she be in love with her very own enemy? 

Sam had been the one to drive her home after that heartbreak, after the nightclub. Sam had been the one to listen to her and—Sam had been the one to know she wouldn’t get out of that heartbreak that easily. 

Sam had also been the first to know Y/N would date Tim, and he had been the first person—after Harrison to hear Tom say he was in love with her. 

Clark’s remark had made Sam think about Tim and y/n, to compare it to Tom and y/n. 

The more he thought about it, the less sense it made. 

However, Sam had been the only one to ask Tom after the engagement party, probably. “It’s so scary to think I’ve loved her my whole life and it didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to.” 

Sam remembered when he found out about it, and how angry he was at his brother but how happy he had been after he heard they were having fun in New York. Even when they had told their parents, it seemed that Sam’s fear and anger had gone away, and then… The engagement party. 

Sam thought of how scary it was to lose someone you have loved your whole life , but he understood why they were persistent, because if they were so in love and had been for a while, growing past each , how come this had turned into this mess? 

Sometimes love isn’t what we think of it. 

Sam had been the only one to tell y/n that Timmy and her were not made for each other. She hadn’t questioned him, probably because she knew it. But Sam had been the only one to tell her. Probably because he knew his own brother, Harry at the time of course, he knew nothing about Tom, was deeply in love with her. Maybe that’s what drove Sam to say it but… honestly, Sam did not trust Timothee to be around y/n. He agreed with Tom most of the times when he criticized Timothee. 

But he had stayed quiet long enough. 

Sam had been the one who had noticed that Tim had known about Harry’s feelings, Harry had never been subtle but… he knew Timothee had noticed.

There were a lot of things Sam had noticed, like how Tim had set up Harry with Emma. Which, of course, ended up being the best thing that could’ve ever happened to Harry, but Sam knew Tim had done it but to get rid of Harry. 

Tom had once pointed it out to Sam.

“That guy, Tim, the one y/n is hooking up with,” he had said with poison. “He seems that he quickly got rid of Harry eh? He set Harry up with this other girl just so he can have y/n to himself.” 

No, but—Harry and Emma had met at the club. But—maybe Tim had set them up? 

And it had seemed like that. Sam wondered what Tim had done to get rid of Tom, because he had probably noticed about it. Timothée was very, very observant. Quiet. 

Timothee had probably noticed about Tom’s infatuation long before anyone else had. 

Sam knew Timothée was a very, very smart individual. He was very quiet and Sam did not quite like that. Everything he said was like a perfectly crafted plan. He was incredibly smart, and Sam didn’t trust that. But of course, he had been the one to stay quiet for a long time. However, he saw that y/n was happy. And Sam really liked that, because he’d seen her right after that club night, and Sam had been the only one she would reach out to. Occasionally. 

Sam had been the first one to know that y/n had declined Tim’s proposal. Sam had been the one y/n had called because she knew Harry was with Emma. Sam didn’t know the real reason why she had declined the proposal. He only remembered how she had arrived at him and was barely breathing. After coming back from that trip to France, to meet his grandparents. Barely anyone knew she had come earlier from that trip, she had cut it short. Coming back to London alone, she’d taken the Eurostar, and it seemed she’d cried all her way back home. 

She’d asked Sam to go and pick her up to get her home. She was speaking quickly and nonsense as if she had been barely breathing for the trip. “I-I said no, I should’ve said yes, I love him but I don’t… don’t even know why I said no, I can’t believe I said no I am so stupid.” 

She was crying, saying nothing made sense and how her heart had broken because she couldn’t come up with a real reason to say no. Sam had asked if she was ready, if she loved him. Because y/n had not told him what had happened. 

“Did you break up?” Sam asked.

“No.” 

“What happened?” He questioned. 

She had taken a deep breath. “I don’t love him enough.” 

She hadn’t seen it coming, but Harry had told Sam. Harry knew Tim would propose. Emma had told Harry. Everyone thought she would say yes, honestly. You never really truly know how a relationship is behind closed doors, but… Sam had been grateful she’d said no. The skeletons in his closet had not come out yet. 

Y/N had always thought that Sam didn’t know, but he was very aware. 

“I met his grandma, and—She said I would be perfect, I think they—-“she had said. “And—he gave it on a film canister… and I love him, but I’m not—not completely in love. There—there is a part of me that still is not over Tom and I am not sure if I will ever be completely healed from the pain he’s caused me, and that impedes me from loving Tim.” 

Sam knew there wasn’t really anything to be worried about, but Sam had known it for a long time. How Tim was probably a master of manipulation. But he knew it, too. Tom had broken y/n to the next level. 

“Will you ever be over Tom?” Sam asked. 

She had not answered. She wouldn’t be. 

Timothée was not a bad person. But Tim often did things to get things done his way, even when he didn’t see it. 

“You know I won’t,” she said eventually. 

What part had Tim played in this mess? Though there wasn’t much of a part to be played, because y/n and Tom seemed to love creating the chaos themselves, Sam could only wonder what exactly had Tim done to try and take Tom out of the picture. 

Though we could argue that it was ‘after Rome’, Sam had noticed that y/n did hate Tom more after Tim’s arrival. But it’s a very fine line because there is a lot Sam didn’t know as to what had happened in Rome and it was after the nightclub. 

Sam didn’t understand why they said ‘Rome’, as if Rome had been the place that had been cursed when in fact it had been the very NightClub when things had shattered. For a heart to shatter, it needs to be made of glass. Hearts can only be made of glass when they’re so thoroughly in love. A heart that’s not in love is not easy to break. It’s funny, the stronger the love, the weaker the heart, in some sort of way. 

No, Sam had to rephrase that. When a love is so strong, the heartbreak will be more painful. So, Sam could only guess how in love y/n had been to have a heart so shattered. And how was she doing now? And after the script? But last night… She’d made the same face she’d made that night at that club. 

There is something about seeing your best friend heartbroken, it fuels your inner rage. Then again, he’d seen his brother heartbroken too. 

That’s why Sam usually stepped out, he was not sure how he was supposed to proceed. 

But Sam had missed y/n and he didn’t want to miss her again. And then, the night before. He had seen her face, and then she had run away, with Harry this time. Sam had thought she would ask him to drive her away again, like all those times before. Instead, he had stayed with his brother. 

He’d heard Tom cry the night before. 

But y/n? How had she spent her night? Maybe this time her heart made of glass had been covered on something else or it… was simply too broken now that the shattered pieces couldn’t be turned but into dust for now. 

Sam didn’t blame Tom or y/n. But he had to blame someone. 

There was something about Tim, or maybe blaming it on Tim was easier for Sam so he didn’t have to take any sides. He could also blame Cherry, but the poor girl had done nothing wrong but to be a fool, and there is a fine line there. 

Sam decided to keep blaming Tim. What did Tim have to do with y/n’s heartbreak? 

Hadn’t he told her, after their breakup? To sort her feelings out. What did Tim do? Because Tim was very smart. 

Tim definitely knew about Tom and y/n. He had probably been the only damn person to have known it since the beginning. 

What had Tim said to poison y/n even more against Tom? He had been the one to teach her that one word, perfidy. 

Sam had read the script. And something didn’t sit right with Teddy’s character, how he seemed so perfect and yet he had seen y/n run from another country. How Teddy pointed it out, about William and Valerie. 

It meant he had pointed out between Tom and y/n. 

What had he told y/n about Tom? Yes, Tom and y/n were enemies, and they’d always been, always fighting, but in the end they were friends. In their own way. Maybe only because of the family, but… 

Something just didn’t click with Sam. 

Probably Tim had poisoned y/n with horrible thoughts about Tom, because y/n had said Tom was a monster, she’d written about it. How could someone ever love someone like him? 

Tim was not a bad person. Sam had to tell himself that. Because he wasn’t, really. At the end of the day he was a good friend but… The guy just was… sketchy. To Sam, because it was just as if he had manipulated y/n into loving him. 

Or, no, no that’s not how love works. No, y/n had loved him but maybe y/n had known it all the time. 

But it just… He always wanted the best for y/n. Right? 

Had… What had Tim done to bring y/n to LA, too? 

Of course it was stupid to think, but… Sam didn’t want to jump into conclusions but he knew Tim was no saint. He knew that Tim knew y/n. That’s something Sam pointed out every time, Sam knew y/n. He remembered how Tim had brought another girl to his and Harry’s birthday party, knowing damn well y/n’s biggest fear was to be replaced. So if he knew it so, so well, why had he done it? To hurt her? 

But also, Tim was the one to… Sam had to erase those thoughts. No, Tim wasn’t a bad person because he’d also been the one to show y/n she could smile again, and she could laugh and love. 

And Sam knew how the breakup had gone, New Year’s Eve, when y/n had drunkenly confessed to Tim: 

“There’s still a part of me that will always wonder if Tom’s the love of my life.” 

To hear that from the person you love the most, must change you. And Tim had asked her to sort her feelings out. 

Sam could not blame Tim. 

But then again… He had kissed y/n right when he knew Tom and y/n were starting something. And who had come to comfort y/n after the engagement party? Tim. 

It seemed like it was so perfectly calculated. So, very well planned. Or maybe not, maybe Tim had noticed how Tom and y/n were so fragile, that would break easily. That’s the thing about Tom and y/n, they were both so scared of the outcome, of any pebble that could be thrown their way and would deter their relationship, that’s why they lived so fast because they both feared the end, they both feared they wouldn’t be strong enough for the bullets shot their way. 

Maybe Tim knew that, and maybe Tim knew which pebbles to throw. 

Cherry had once told Sam that Tim had been the one to convince y/n to change places with her. And Cherry had said she had been delighted with Tim. Which only brought him to the night before. 

Tim had asked Cherry to stay the night at his place. Sam had heard him ask her. No, Tim had not asked in any wrong way, but in a friendly way because the girl had been destroyed. 

However, Sam thought there was something fishy in all of the situation. Sam had a slight suspicion that this mess had to do with Tim. Cherry had asked him the night before how long Tim and y/n-Tim, not Tom, how long Timothee and y/n had been dating. Sam had said they weren’t. And they wouldn’t be. Had Tim said something to lead to this mess? Was he the reason why at midnight Tom’s and y/n’s fantasy shattered? Why had Tim asked Cherry to go to his place? Maybe he had to do something with it.

Or maybe Tim only loved y/n. And he had been so blinded by his own love that he hadn’t stopped to realize some things he’d done were wrong. But you can never really know what’s going on behind closed doors. 

Harry had his door closed, and Sam wanted to ask his brother what exactly he was going through. Though, he knew he was not having a good time. That was no secret.  

Sam knocked on the door. 

Harry opened the door to watch his brother, Harry hadn’t slept and he was not breathing. He seemed to be trying to calm himself down, but Sam could tell he was angry. Very, very angry. 

“Why did he fucking do it at the engagement party?” Harry asked Sam. 

There it was, a conversation they had had millions of times, yet never truly acknowledging it had been the night everyone had burned. 

Because Harry often avoided the question. Sam was also slightly angry at how they had had to forgive Tom because Tom was in love and because Tom’s heart had been shattered. But Tom’s drunken speech had led to all this mess and the pain still lingered for the family. 

Maybe that’s why no one in the family was really telling anything to Tom, maybe that’s why they weren’t eager with Tom and y/n being together. But they would all stay quiet. Maybe the real reason why James had been reluctant to them was because they feared their battles would leave even more casualties. 

No one really had stopped to think how their relationship had changed everyone’s situation, how y/n’s parents had barely talked to the Hollands. How James wouldn’t go out for drinks with the twins and that’s why they didn’t know how serious he was with Clark. How James had to keep his boyfriend out of the drama because he didn’t want his own relationship to get ruined. How Harry and Sam had lost their best friend. How Emma had to run to another country to get over her heartbreak. How Harry had lost the love of his life. 

Everyone seemed too focused on how Tom and y/n were trying to get out of this one that everybody had simply forgotten everything they’d left behind. All the casualties. 

Every single wallflower, all the weed flowers that had kept growing and had not had the chance to grow. 

“I… why do they always have to do everything big? Like first, the engagement party, why did Tom choose to explode there? Why did y/n write a script like that? It’s obvious they both wanted to fail, it’s so-so obvious, and then? What did he do? He slept with her cousin, out of everyone, her cousin… And she slept with Tim!” 

Y/n had slept with Tim. Yet another pebble thrown at trying to get Tom and y/n back into the woods.  Sam could only try and wonder why y/n had let herself be fooled again, maybe it was a rebound but then again… Maybe Tim wasn’t really the problem, but maybe y/n still felt guilty for that proposal. 

Sam remembered it. 

“I will never forgive myself because I will never love him the way he loves me.” 

Guilt, guilt often grows like poison ivy and covers you and tangles you until you cannot be able to step out of it. Maybe that was the reason why y/n couldn’t stay away from Tim, because Tim had been the one to make her feel loved, and yet she’d never loved him back the same way. 

“… Oh my god, y/n knew she could’ve slept with anybody and Tom would’ve not cared but with it’s like she did it on purpose because they have to make everything big,” Harry continued. “And I’m… so tired of it….Like last night, why did that have to happen? They could’ve talked about it but neither did it because they had to wait until the bomb exploded and bring everyone down with them….  I couldn’t even think of my heartbreak because Y/N had it worse, no, I’m not blaming her but-” Harry sighed. “Yes, whatever they love each other but… But what about my own relationship? What about James’  relationship? Didn’t he fear this drama would push Clark away?” 

Sam only listened. 

“Why did--Why did we have to direct her script so he could make a big entrance and win her back? I knew this would jeopardize my relationship with Emma.” 

Because this was always what happened with them. Even when they were enemies. Sam hated it. Always a big, big fight, argument, how they’d have to take sides and take turns to not have them at the same place, and when they were, they would always, always make it big. 

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted. 

Harry sighed. “And they don’t-even care, they just--Like I had to see Emma today and pick up y/n’s clothes and..that would ruin me and yet I did it, because both Tom and y/n are so fucking selfish and I don’t care-I genuinely couldn’t care less about their drama anymore, I come back and they had fucked, like-” Harry took a deep breath. “Oh my god, how do they fuck it up so badly? They’re only sabotaging themselves... And I don’t know and-why do we have to keep being dragged by their bullshit? If I have to listen to Tom complain about Tim one more fucking time…” 

Sam didn’t blame anyone, honestly. 

“And look, I don’t even know what the fuck they’re gonna come up with now, they’re so unpredictable and I don’t… If they break up I don’t want to listen to their rambling I… I just can’t sympathise with them anymore, I… No, I don’t mean that. I just… I need my time, too, you know? I need to be angry and I need to get it out and I need to cry it out because I’m-” His voice was breaking. “I’m not okay, I lost Emma, and I know-But oh my god, we couldn’t even come home because they were here fighting or fucking or I don’t even know.” 

“Everything was easier when they hated each other,” Sam said. And he meant it. But Sam did try to stop and wonder, what would happen if they were apart? 

Tom had changed. Sam had noticed, how sad his brother had turned and only a few days ago how he had a smile back on. 

Harry scoffed. “I said that, too.” 

“What are you going to do with Emma?” Sam asked, because he didn’t want to feed into the Tom and y/n situation, it would give him a headache. 

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged. “I… don’t know. I don’t know because… I am angry because my problem with her started because of Tom and y/n and--” Harry’s glance was glazing, but he was trying to stop himself. 

“And I hate it because I should’ve called her but I didn’t because I had all these doubts and I… never got my own closure and I just had to deal with it and accept it because Tom this, y/n that and… I just want to… I want to get back to Emma but I don’t know if I could because Emma is friends with Tim and guess what? That would bring trouble and-” 

Sam crossed his arms, listening. 

“Or-or what if my friendship with y/n still bothers her? Even if she’s friends with her, and--I don’t even know, because she came here and I don’t know if she’d ever come back to London.” 

Harry was shattering. 

“I don’t even-know how to talk to her, she’s a stranger and I… I never thought that would ever happen, and she is just so cold and she…I hurt her so much she decided to move to an entire different country, you realize that? Maybe because she didn’t want to see me anymore, I don’t know what she wants,” Harry continued as he plopped on his bed. “And I don’t… No, I do, I do care she slept with someone else because I know she did it just to prove me a point, I know that she hates me now.” 

Sam thought about it again, he didn’t think Emma hated Harry. No, she couldn’t. 

A laugh was heard, and it was undeniably Tom’s, followed by a remark by y/n. Both twins turned their head to the door. Sam decided to close the door, he needed to listen to his brother, the other wallflower. 

Harry had this curse, he was ivy, and he was white cloves. He knew Emma had loved it before but she probably cursed him for it now. Harry often made everything happy, and sometimes happiness is the toughest emotion to bear, Harry would spread his happiness everywhere he could go, but lately he couldn’t, there was barely any anticipation and his heart had felt numb and empty. As if the time when Emma had left, his heart had an indentation waiting to be filled by her. 

“I love her, and I was supposed to love her for a lifetime and—“Harry said. “And… Maybe I wish I could…” He squinted. “Did you hear him? That was Tom, he was laughing, right?” 

Sam bit his inner cheeks. “Yeah.” 

“How long do you think that will last?” Harry sighed. “Even if it doesn’t. How-how does he do that?” 

Sam only frowned. 

“Do you think if I show up to Emma and just smile at her everything will be fixed?” Harry questioned and then laughed at the statement. 

Harry was tired of not knowing what to do. And he was tired that he wanted to fix everything, but he felt that if he even tried to, everything would fall down. Inconspicuously, Harry had tried to go along his whole life without messing things up and that led him to where he was standing right now. 

Harry sighed, “do you think they are going to sit us down and walk us through their decision?” Harry inquired. 

Sam rolled his eyes, “I think you should focus back on Emma.” 

“Right,” Harry sighed. “I just—It wasn’t only the—you know, I’ve been thinking, and my downfall with Emma wasn’t only from the engagement party. It had been something very crafted,” Harry explained, as he paced around the room. “I—I need a beer,” Harry said, as he finally opened the door to head to the kitchen, Sam followed after. 

They saw James and Clark, confused, still at the living room, they had probably seen y/n and Tom walking in. 

“Any heads up?” Harry asked them. 

James looked up and made out a noise that could be translated into an ‘I don’t know.’ 

Harry rolled his eyes. He was tired. He didn’t want to deal with them. 

“Where are they?” Sam asked. 

“They—walked in—“Clark started.

 “Ignored us,” James added. 

Clark chuckled, “they went to the kitchen, and then went outside, they didn’t ignore us, they were just—“ 

“Too busy staring into each other’s eyes,” James chanted with sarcasm. 

“They were talking,” Clark cleared up. “I think we shouldn’t—“

“No, I wasn’t planning to, I don’t care about them right now,” Harry said heading to the kitchen, he could get a glance of them by the window, they seemed calm, which honestly were good news. At least they didn’t have to hear them screaming. 

Harry opened the fridge to get a beer, and then leaned against the counter. Sam double glanced at the couple outside and then grabbed a beer for himself. 

“They… They were fighting before,” said Harry. “And apparently they slept together, again,” Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand how they do it,” Harry groaned as he stared at the cold beer in his hand. 

Sam crossed his arms, “Stop avoiding it and explain why your downfall with Emma was even before the engagement party.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “It was around the time, when I decided… Tim and I had both talked about it, alright? When he asked me about… Proposing to y/n,” Harry explained. “It was… “ Harry took a deep breath. “I think he was… the one to give me the idea,” Harry said. 

The night Harry had decided he would marry Emma, he was so scared. Because he had been so sure for his entire life that he had been in love with y/n, when in reality it came no close to what he felt for Emma. He had been quiet about it. 

Harry had once read we all fall in love with three people, the first time you ever love, you are young, it’s the first time you ever experience it, how silly it is to think of it. It feels so pure, and real and it’s incomprehensible, and looking back at it, you must think it wasn’t love. But it is, in its purest form because it’s so undeniably real and childish even. It’s the first time you encounter happiness. The time you learn to love. 

Harry hadn’t been in love for all the time. He’d fallen out of love with her and fell back in love. The second time one falls in love is  the one that breaks your heart. But they’re the person everyone expects you to love, the one flower that is pretty. The one that teaches lessons, the one that shows what pain is. You learn from it, what makes you grow, what doesn’t. Y/N had been the second one, too. The second love makes us learn what we love about love, good things, and what we don’t. This love is so powerful because it builds us, and we will often try and look back at it, because you might think it’s the one. And we can be blinded by their cold stare and try to fight for it, and though it brings a warm sunset, it’s not… It eventually dawns.  The one when we learn about ourselves. The one that teaches us to love ourselves. The one before the one. 

Then there’s the third one, the one you don’t expect, it hits without warning and one day you just… simply know it, and Harry had known it, so stupidly. It comes. The one that you don’t search for, the one that is just… right there for you, the one that you never thought you’d fall for. The one that tumbles down all of our walls because you can build a path together. It’s not who you usually like, it’s not like one of those crushes that you’ve had growing up, it brings the best of you. Because you find yourself in a field of all their flowers that have grown into your heart, and it’s beautiful, a dreamland. And you learn to love what you used to hate about love. It’s not the big flower, it’s the one flower you find along the way… the daisy. 

That was Emma, all the flaws he loved, evergreen happiness even when everything might fall down. Covered with her, with those eyes that Harry wanted to see forever. So unexpected and now, he wanted her to be every book he read. 

But he’d lost her. 

“And I bought the ring,” Harry said. “But… Then I asked y/n what she thought,” Harry said. “Y/N was the one before the one,” he explained. “But we sometimes get confused, and… She told me not to marry Emma, and I doubted it. Because no one thought I should and I… I am here now hating myself because I tend to listen to everyone when all that mattered was I loved Emma, I still love her, and-” 

Harry thought then, how ironic it was. Maybe that’s why Tom and y/n were out there talking, because it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. It was them who mattered and how they wished to go through it. 

“I think I started doubting myself,” Harry said. “And then… it happened and…I lost her, I didn’t know because I was the fool who thought that y/n was the one… When, she never was, and I want to just… Jump to Emma and kiss her, just like they do it, so simply,” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’d sacrifice everything for Emma.” 

Sam blew his cheeks. “Why don’t you, then?”

Harry glanced up, “What? Pull a Tom and just show up and kiss her?” 

Sma shrugged. “Yeah. Why don’t you? I mean, it’s worth the shot.” 

And it was, maybe it had been the fact that he’d seen Tom and y/n working it out despite everything. Despite being so different, despite having every wall, they were out there tumbling it down. And maybe that’s what led him to be standing behind that door, staring at the daisy he never thought he would ever love but couldn’t think he could live without. For once, Harry had no doubts, for once Harry did not want to be a wallflower everyone took for granted to spread happiness. 

 “I…” Harry was shaking. But it had to be done and it had to be said.  “I… I love you.” 

And that was the one outcome Emma had not expected from that whole day. But she gave in anyway, finally giving in to kiss him. And for the first time, she became the sunflower. 

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[matthewtkachuk]

speak now - rafe cameron

it’s the day of your wedding and, even though it’s been two years, you can’t stop thinking about the one who got away. little do you know he’s also consumed with thoughts of you and he’s not ready to give up just yet

warnings: angst with a happy ending

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 2.9k

a/n: this is the fic i wrote for pen on imessage, everyone say thank you to @girlsru1eboysdroo1 for the fact that this isn’t totally depressing!! i emphasized her favorite lines just for fun, i always wanted to write a fic with this trope so here it is, enjoy!!

You had loved Rafe Cameron your whole life, and truth be told you probably always would. But, he wasn’t yours to want anymore and you weren’t his. In fact, you were silently freaking out in a small room of a church, thinking about the one who got away as your fiancé stood at the end of the aisle.

It wasn’t fair to Chris. Chris, who was so sweet, so kind. Who supported you through thick and thin. Who uprooted his whole life to follow you to the grad school of your dreams. Who held you and loved you and treated you right. Chris, who would probably do anything for you if you only asked.

That was the thing though, with Rafe you never had to ask. He had known you better than you had known yourself, could predict when you needed him and what exactly you needed. He could feel the shift in your energy after a bad day at school or work, and was always ready to cheer you up, whether it was shitty fast food and shittier reality television or his sometimes gentle touch.

Rafe had known you and loved you, all the parts of you. Not just the good that Chris so often praised you over, your kind heart and selfless attitude. But also, the parts of you that you felt you had to hide, your petty jealousy, your quick temper. He loved not only your beautiful parts, but every scar and every flaw too.

But Rafe had let you down, too. His own temper and irrationality got him into trouble on more than one occasion, and all you had wanted was for him to let go of old hurts. You understood his insecurity stemmed from years of never being good enough for his father, Ward Cameron was a son of a bitch who had ruined the self-esteem of the boy you loved. Ultimately it was a combination of both that spelled the end of your relationship. A screaming match where he had projected his own inner turmoil onto you, certain that you could never truly love someone like him. He had said things he couldn’t take back, and you had packed your bags that night, never to step foot in his apartment again.

So here you were, two years later, about to marry another man. You looked at yourself in the mirror, saw the fresh tears pooling, threatening to spill and ruin your expensive makeup. If anyone were to see you, they would probably assume they were happy tears, brought on by the overwhelming joy of linking yourself to Chris forever. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Your tears stemmed from the knowledge that going through with this truly meant the end of a future with Rafe. It was stupid, Rafe hadn’t contacted you in the years since your break up, and the only information you received on his wellbeing you got through his sister Sarah who you still thought of as a friend. Rafe didn’t know that you kept tabs on him, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Sarah told him about you, too. You briefly wondered what it would have felt like to receive the news of your engagement, if he ever saw the invitation hung on Sarah’s fridge. If he was sad, or jealous, or if he even cared.

For a moment, you thought about running, pulling a runaway bride, but Chris didn’t deserve that. His only flaw was that he wasn’t Rafe Cameron, and it wasn’t fair to resent him for that fact. Besides, your mother would throw a fit. She had been mad enough when you had arrived home, 21 and single and in need of a place to stay as you got back on your feet. You were pretty sure she might actually disown you if you left another ‘eligible bachelor’, especially this close to commitment. You would likely never hear the end of how you had ruined a perfectly good (and extravagantly expensive) wedding. Not only that, there was no guarantee the next guy you found would hold a candle to Rafe, and you were certain by his two year long radio silence, that Rafe was over you. So, you got up, smoothed down the crinkle in your off-white wedding dress, dabbed at your eyes with a tissue and grabbed your bouquet, resigned to going through with the wedding.

The truth is, when Rafe walked into Sarah’s apartment to pick her up for a lunch with Ward and Rose, she all but threw herself at Rafe to prevent him from seeing the invitation on the fridge. Her plan had been to meet him in the car, but Rafe had walked right in using his key. Suspicious of his little sister’s actions, he gently moved her aside and entered the kitchen to grab a glass of water. He paused, hand hovering near the water dispenser on the fridge as his eyes landed on the photo of you and Chris with “save the date” written in bold block letters. In his shock, the glass slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor. The sound shook him from his thoughts, and he grimaced at the broken pieces of glass that lay at his feet alongside his shattered heart. He looked at Sarah with a look of pure devastation as she offered him a soft smile and quickly swept up the glass. Unfortunately, the pieces of his heart couldn’t be cleaned up so easily. “I’m sorry,” she had offered quietly and all he could do was shrug and say, “me too.”

The green eyed monster of jealousy lingered on his shoulder in the weeks that follow, causing him to lash out more and more. His coworkers avoided him, his friends wanted nothing to do with him, and the only people who he could stand to be around were his little sisters of all people. Despite Sarah keeping your engagement a secret, she had tried to save him from heartbreak, but it was always going to hurt no matter when or where he found out. Since finding out, thoughts of you consumed him, they always had. He had given you the space you had so desperately asked for that night you left, always thinking that you would come back to him, that the two of you would work it out and move on together. He never stopped thinking about you and wondering where you were and what you were doing. He’d heard you’d gone through a few relationships, and he wouldn’t lie about the way his heart would leap a little every time your relationships failed.

Now, it was serious. You’d found someone you’d deemed worthy enough to spend your life with. Rafe always thought that person was him, but he didn’t blame you for not thinking that, too. He had his issues, he was quick to anger, projected his insecurities on others, he’d struggled with addiction and alcoholism although he’d been clean for almost three years at the point. Rafe couldn’t help but admit he was jealous. Jealous of the nights he didn’t get to spend with you, jealous of the love you were giving some other guy that you had once reserved for him, jealous of the life you were going to spend with someone else. Above all else, he was jealous that you were happy without him. He thought you hung the moon, and he was once happy to live among the stars. He would still rearrange the entire night sky for you, but now you saw stars in another’s eyes.

As your wedding date approached, he only felt worse. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have been the one in the wedding invite picture, to have his name written in an elegant script alongside yours on a piece of thick cardstock paper inviting your family and friends to celebrate your love. The daydream overtook his brain. Thoughts of wedding cake tastings and searching for a venue and fighting over seating charts invaded his every waking hour. And at night, he dreamt of being the one at the end of the aisle as you slowly walked towards him, a vision in white with your hair framing your face like the prettiest painting he had ever seen. Saw you approach him, place your hand in his and vow to be his forever. Felt your lips on his as you kissed for the first time as man and wife, dipping you unexpectedly and feeling your delicate fingertips wrap around his lapels to keep you steady. Dreamt of the first dance, twirling you around in his arms, and speeches and kissing every time cutlery tapped a wine glass. Dreamt of a hotel suite with rose petals on the floor, of slowly unzipping your dress and kissing every inch revealed, of a lacy white lingerie set and making love to you as your husband for the first time. But every morning he awoke in a too-large and too-empty king size bed with nothing but the faint memory of a dream.

On the morning of your wedding he awoke from such a dream, and realized he was going to wake up like that every morning for the rest of his life - sad, alone and wanting you. It was then he understood that he had to do something, had to tell you how he felt. He knew it was selfish and impetuous and rash, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least try. He couldn’t let you marry some hedge fund manager from Raleigh who dressed like a douche in your engagement photo shoot. And so Rafe pulled himself out of his depression and his silk sheets, dressing himself in a suit and tie to hopefully blend in the back church pew. He didn’t tell Sarah, didn’t tell anyone about his plans lest they convince him not to try.

“Bride,” he told the usher when asked who’s side he was with, before slipping into the last pew on the left. His eyes glanced around the church and he shook his head, even the venue was wrong. You had always told Rafe that you wanted to be married on the beach, barefoot in the sand of the OBX, a soft breeze against your skin. He would always tease you about the breeze, lying in bed together with your hands intertwined dreaming about the future. But, in your dreams, you had always giggled, you could control the weather and you wanted a slight breeze like a scene from a movie. He pulled at his tie a little, the atmosphere stuffy and stifling, and he thought that, if you would have him, he would give you your dream beach wedding, even if he had to buy a large fan to give you your slight breeze.

You stood at the back of the church, nervously picking at the bouquet in your hands as your bridesmaids made their way down the aisle. Your arms were shaking with anxiety, but to the casual outside observer you likely seemed to be jittery with excitement. “You ready, sweetheart?” your father asked, offering you his bent elbow. Swallowing hard, you placed your hand in the crook of his arm and entered the chapel. Chris stood at the end of the aisle, a vision in a dark grey tux with a light pink tie to match the color of your bridesmaids’ dresses. You felt tears prick at your eyes as you felt nothing for the man standing there waiting for you. His eyes filled with matching tears and you felt nothing. Scanning the pews for reassurance from your family and friends, you spotted him. There, in the back pew on the left side, your side, sat Rafe Cameron.

You froze, eyes wide as you laid eyes on Rafe Cameron for the first time since you walked out of his apartment two years ago. Of course, you had unhealthily stalked his social media for months after the break up, and every now and then when you felt like torturing yourself, but this was the first time you saw him in person, close enough to run to, close enough to touch. Tearing your eyes from his, you scanned the church again, gulping as you met the furious stare of your mother in the first row, cringing at the almost devastated look on Chris’s face. Lastly, you looked up at your father who gave you a knowing stare, before inclining his head slightly at you. It was that small confirmation that sold it for you. You handed the bouquet to your father, quietly said, “I’m sorry,” before you turned and ran out of the church.

It was difficult to run in your expensive red bottom shoes, but you made an admirable effort for the first few feet before stopping long enough to slip them off. You held both shoes by the heel in one hand, the other hand grasping the bottom of your dress to keep it from dragging on the ground slowing you down. There’s a small park across the street from the church, and it’s here that you realize you’re being followed. Your chest restricts as you recognize the voice calling your name doesn’t belong to your mother or Chris or your bridesmaids. Stopping and turning around, you spot Rafe hot on your heels. You can’t do anything but stand there and stare at him as comes to a stop in front of you, slightly out of breath despite his trim figure. You take him in, eyes roaming every inch of his tall frame. You’re a little dizzy, unsure if it’s the rush of your fight or flight instinct, or the rush you’ve always felt in Rafe’s presence.

“I’m sorry,” is the first phrase that leave his lips and you look at him in confusion. He loves the way your nose scrunches up, and the little crinkle that appears between your eyebrows, has dreamed of seeing it again.

“For what?” you asked, unsure of what he was apologizing for. You weren’t upset that you’d ran off, you knew that you didn’t really want to marry Chris, that you had only said yes because of the pressure from your mom and the knowledge that Rafe hadn’t spoken to you in two years.

“Everything,” he admits, flexing his hands nervously. “God, y/n, I fucked up so bad.” Your eyes are staring at his fidgeting hands, and in a split second you’ve dropped your shoes onto the grass and grasped his hands in yours, linking your fingers.

He looks between your now linked hands and your face, and you take the opportunity to take a step closer to him. “I’m sorry too,” you speak softly, “I shouldn’t have ran like that. I should have stayed, and I should have fought for you.”

“You’re not-“ he swallows, “you’re not mad I ruined your wedding?” Despite your hands in his, despite the look in your eye as you stare up at him, despite the fact that you haven’t run from him, he has to ask. Has to make sure that you’re still as in love with him as he is you. That you’ve spent the past two years thinking about where you both went wrong and how you could fix it. That you had thought and dreamt of this moment, where you were close enough to press your lips together.

“I think we both know that wasn’t my wedding, not really. Wrong color scheme, wrong venue...” you pause thoughtfully, squeezing his hands as a smile makes its way onto your face. He catches on quickly, his lips upturning with a small smirk as he finishes your thought, “Wrong groom?”

You giggle, dropping his hands in favour of gripping his face with your palms, smiling widely up at him. There’s something about the intimacy of the moment, of feeling his skin beneath your fingertips, that has you emotional. Rafe feels it too, staring into your eyes, in full disbelief that this is how today has gone. He had hoped, of course. He wouldn’t have shown up at the church if he thought there was no chance of stopping your wedding. But to have you here... Your thumb strokes his cheek as his eyes fill with tears. “Yeah, baby, wrong groom.”

At your confirmation, he ducks his head down and presses his lips to yours. Your hands slide from his cheeks to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. He wraps an arm around your waist, the other wrapping around the back of your neck holding you in place as the kiss deepens. You have to pull back to breathe, but he doesn’t let you go far, holding you in place as you rest your foreheads together.

“I’m so in love with you,” he whispers against your lips and you grin before pecking his lips once. “I’m still in love with you, too,” you whisper back. Suddenly, you’re kissing again, two years of absence melting away with each brush of your lips.

You pull away for a second time, smiling as his lips attempt to chase yours. “We’re going to have to work at this you know, our issues didn’t just go away,” you tell him seriously.

He nods, grabbing one of your hands to kiss the inside of your palm, “I know baby, but I’m ready to work on it, on us, this time.”

You grin widely at him once more, before grabbing your shoes and linking your hands together, “then let’s get me out of this stupid dress.”

everything taglist: @velyssaraptor​ @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @rekrappeter @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast @sunwardsss @rudyypankow @im-a-stranger-thing @alexa-playafricabytoto @maybankfullkook @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @sortagaysortahigh @socialwriter @bluesiderudy @anxietyandtacos @diverrdown @stargazingstarkey

#anyway #i'm getting soft in my old age #rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #diverdcwn writes

[thesquareinthecircularhole]

Valentine [Criminal Minds: Spencer Reid x F! Reader]

A/N: Self-indulgent and SAUCY

Valentine by 5SOS

Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds

Female Reader

18+, children do not interact 

just posted no edit haha im bad

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I love the light in your eyes and the dark in your heart You love our permanent chase and the bite of our bark We know we're classic together like Egyptian gold We love us

Spencer Reid had a hard life. Absentee father, a mother with schizophrenia, being a certified child genius that continued into adulthood, addiction problems, love and relationship problems, and his job didn’t make life a walk in the park. But still, [Y/N] [L/N] loved how he continued to smile, and that smile held the sun.

They had known each other during childhood. As much as some of us would like it, sometimes you just can’t avoid the neighbors. Spencer’s happy that this neighbor was his age AND liked him. While she tended school at the normal regular place, she continued talking to him and doing her best to help him prosper in school, even if he was 12 graduating high school, though it was usually the other way around on who was helping who. 

Childhood crushes are a thing, though these two weren’t that good at pursuing it. [Y/N] was always the flirtier of the two, teasing Spencer for years. The old couple down the road distinctly remember seeing a 16 year old [Y/N] making a 16 year old Spencer turn as red as the rising sun one hot summer pool party day. Everyone on the street thought they belonged together. But the two of them never got together until well into adulthood. 

While they had pursued their own careers, the two continued talking and supporting each other. [Y/N] was there through every almost relationship of Spencer’s including the worst fucking heartbreak of his life with Maeve. She ended up moving closer to him to help him cope, and while she had still loved him since childhood, she knew that any romantic feelings were on the backburner until she could get Spencer feeling okay again. Which, while it took awhile, did happen eventually. 

It don't matter, be combative or be sweet cherry pie It don't matter just as long as I get all you tonight

Like any relationship, the two had their ups and downs. The downs were a rare occurrence however and also sadly usually happened around the same time Spencer started using again, but if the two were able to spend the night together they knew they would be alright. 

I can take you out, oh, oh We can kill some time, stay home Throw balloons, teddy bears and the chocolate eclairs away Got nothing but love for you, fall more in love every day Valentine, valentine

It was a special night, this night. A certain 1 year anniversary night that also happened to reside on the most love filled night of the year. And knowing Spencer, he went the whole nine yards. Starting the morning with breakfast in bed. Morning spa day at [Y/N] favorite spa/relaxation joint. A quick lunch at the wonderful vegetarian sandwich joint they found in downtown. A museum trip viewing beautiful artwork (that wasn’t as beautiful as she is, Reid thinks). Dinner at the fancy joint uptown, Reid scored a reservation a month ago. After dinner, returning home for a movie and end the night together. 

[Y/N]’s plans were a little less planned out: 1) enjoy the day with Spencer and 2) get laid. So, as she got ready in the morning (not knowing about Spencer’s breakfast in bed plan) she put herself in a spicy two piece black lingerie with a seductive red lipstick up top. As she exited the bathroom to throw her dress on, she wasn’t expecting to her a loud clack as Spencer dropped the tray with breakfast. Startled, she jumped slightly and looked up at him, only to see him a bright red despite his attempts to hide his face with his hands. A coy smile made its way to her lips as she sauntered up to him and took his hands off his face. 

“Hey pretty boy~” she said, her arms moving to wrap around his neck. By instinct his hands wrapped around her waist. “While I love the effort you put into everything today...I think I just want to stay in bed with you, is that alright?” She battered her eye lashes and Spencer’s sharp breathe gave her the answer she needed as she led him to bed, breakfast forgotten on the floor behind them. 

So deep, your DNA's being messed with my touch Can’t beat us So real, fueling the fire until we combust Can’t touch us

Spencer’s pajamas and [Y/N]’s lingerie didn’t last long on their bodies. In a flurry of motion Spencer was stripped nude, his pants hanging on the closet door handle, his shirt somewhere near breakfast, and his boxers on the lamp on the bedside table. He was gentler with the removal of [Y/N]’s, still fast but taking the few seconds to cherish the feel of it against her skin, how it decorated her hips and breasts in a heavenly manner. If Spencer was to thank God, it would be for lining everything up for this moment, he thinks, sliding her panties down her legs till they fall off the bed. Her bra is the next to go, her nipples hardening at the cool breeze of the bedroom. She’s a fucking goddess beneath him, he thinks, and he can’t wait to ravage her. He licks his lips, his eyes going dark, and he bends his head down, kissing down her stomach to her thighs before carefully placing his mouth against her folds. She shutters, her fingers instinctively grasp at his long and curly hair.

“Fuck,” she mutters, her body shivering as his tongue works its magic on her folds. The tip of his tongue teases her clit and she resists the urge to close her thighs around his head. Almost as if he knows what’s up, he’s laying down on the bed and using his arms to hold her thighs in place, picking up the pace with his mouth as he kisses and licks her. A finger joins in the eating out session as he sticks it in, and he can feel her tense. 

She’s breathing heavily. It’s been a while since they’ve done this and while she admits she understands, its a hard and busy life, she’s been feeling a little touch starved and now by god is she sensitive to it. He’s working his magic on her and she’s starting to see stars.

“Spencer, Spencer, please. I need you,” She groans out, clenching her fist against the mattress. He’s willing to back off against you, the skin red and wet. He sits up, lining himself and his cock against her entrance. He guides his cock with his hand and uses the slick wetness against her skin as a form of lube. He goes slow, putting the tip in. He looks up at her, and she has an impatient pout on her face. He grins and bend downs, kissing her. She can taste herself against his lips and he pulls away, biting her lip. She’s so hot and bothered she doesn’t expect him suddenly slamming his cock inside her entirely. She jolts, and the moan that comes out of her mouth is befitting to her goddess status. He pulls out only slightly before slamming back in. His thrusts are quick and impatient, and so is she. Her hands make their way to his back, scratching up the skin there. His hands reside on other side of her hair, careful not to yank on her hair. He can tell she has her nailed the second her back starts arching. Teasingly, he slows his thrusts down, and she whines beneath him. He pulls out entirely, sitting down on the bed. She looks at him confused and is suddenly tugged on top of him. She lowers herself onto his lap, his cock reentering her and filling her up. He picks up the speed of thrusting again, their chests against each other. She bounces on him, grinding her hips against him, feeling the frictions between the two like a burning fire. 

The fire between the two builds as both get closer and closer to climax. The sound of skin against skin and panting fills the room and perhaps the whole house. She goes first, cumming on his cock and tightens around him, pulling his orgasm out as well. They continue sitting together, panting and coming down from their highs. She kisses him again, and he gleefully kisses her back. Her hands yet again find themselves in his messy hair and his against her waist. After a bit, and taking a breather, Spencer speaks.

“If we hurry we still might be able to make it to your spa day.” She lets out a laugh.

Full plate, don’t wait, have your cake and eat it too Full plate, don’t wait, have your cake and eat it

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #x reader #songfic #smut

[depressedinthebath]

EUPHORIA EPISODE 2x5 // JULES HEADCANONS

digging into jules being at rue’s house for the intervention, her thoughts to rue’s words, etc.

PART 1 // OUTFIT to start, it’s zeroing in on jules’ outfit. as previously written in headcanons, jules feels her most true self with rue, like she’s being truly seen. even when coming for the intervention, jules is in baggy clothes again and little to no makeup. this is her showing up for rue as honestly as she can to open the door for rue’s honesty back. -----

PART 2 // CONVERSATION WITH RUE now digging into the conversation - 

this doesn’t concern you, jules

while rue thinks she hasn’t mixed her world of drugs with jules, it’s all jules knows for them. the concern that she’ll inspire a relapse like she did in the past is always on her mind and always pushing to be whatever rock she can be. this is a big reason she holds back from telling rue about her mom, not wanting rue to compare herself in that way. but just as jules responds back, it does concern her; her constant battle of wanting rue to have a future with her and one she doesn’t have to fear how it will end (example being the dream of their life in new york where rue overdoses).

you are fucking dead to me

there’s already a crushing guilt coming out from jules and her hooking up with elliot. when rue looks over to him and back to jules about why he’d tell her before this, there’s already a nervousness in how jules can’t look rue back in the eye. these are the most heartbreaking words for her. to say how much she doesn’t want to see rue dead and yet she’s dead to rue is hard for her to swallow. this is the type of thing she’s heard her mom say to her dad, the same way she also felt when her mom left her at the mental hospital. the weight of those words are heavy for jules, whom already feels the crushing guilt of 

nothing fucking there

to this point, jules has already seen how an addict reacts (the past with her mother). she knows well enough that if there wasn’t anything there, rue wouldn’t be fighting her back or saying the words she is. it’s why jules remains silent, almost letting rue get everything out of her system as though it’ll help in some way. so she stays quiet, even when rue tells her that meeting her is her biggest regret, trying to stay as strong as possible through it. but it’s not easy for her to take, cracking with tears almost instantly.

you’re a fucking vampire this one’s a tough one as jules already sees herself as this. the lack of background or what’s going on in her head is because of her own fear of not wanting to drain anyone from her own depression and anxiety. she already saw that it pushed her mom to addiction (or so she believes), so she stays away from riding that emotional line or letting people in. jules cracking and trying to fight back here is the last bit of her that’s trying to prove that isn’t true, even though it’s her biggest nightmare.

it’s all about jules, right?

for her, it’s never been about herself. from the moment she’s met rue and has watched her be “sober,” her focus is always pushing for that. jules doesn’t make those boundaries in s1 and let’s rue come over when she wants, even through feeling suffocated. it isn’t until jules leaves on the train that her selfishness comes out, finding a moment to break for it all. but it’s in that moment she tries to not be selfish by saying i love you, even in one of the worst moments of it all.

you love being loved. you’re a fucking greedy whore who just likes sucking the life out of people

this points back to episode 2 where rue calls jules a whore as well that seems like a bit of a joke. this shines that slip up as a truth for jules, sinking in the truth that after she’s been open with rue about her own past that she’s not comfortable with it and may never see past it. for her, feeling that rue sees her as who she fully is, she can only accept this as part of her truth.

you fucking left me when i fucking needed you you fucking left me when i was at my fucking lowest

the biggest issue in s1 is the lack of actual communication for rue and jules. this here and their conversation at new year’s eve is one of those big pivotal moments. for new year’s eve, it’s the acceptance of actually openly saying they want to be together. here, it’s rue confirming that this was her lowest and jules left during it, whether that’s honest or not. jules has already regretted leaving and knowing that her biggest fear was to push rue into a relapse spiral. this confirms again just like on new year’s eve that she pushed her to that edge. 

----

PART 3 // AFTER RUE’S CONVERSATION

through it all, there is honesty in her words that she loves rue and she wants to help. by not leaving and letting rue continue her movement through the house, she knows that lets rue win by pushing people out. here jules is doing her best to stand her ground, to put meaning to her words rather than walking out.

this rings especially true when elliot says that he liked rue the way she was before leaving. jules hearing that after everything that rue just said to her hits deep. going in, she saw them on the same page, caring for rue & her future. by him saying that, it’s a final dagger into it all that he ultimately is wavering on that goal, making jules again feel alone in her push to help keep rue sober.

jules doesn’t feel confident in leaving until she hears rue agree to go to the er to detox. at that point, she feels as though there’s been some progress for everything that happened, and knows that rue turning to leslie in this moment is the only real way she’ll get help and why jules came to her in the first place. no one other than leslie and gia will understand the loss of robert like rue does, that common ground being something that jules believes wholeheartedly can bring them together and to get rue the help she needs. 

-----

yipes. if you made it this far, i mean thanks for reading lololol

#love is just a drug from god | dissertations & headcanons #tw addiction