#if there ever is a pic i promise ill post it

[sawvhs]

Yet another adam dump cuz i draw him a lot on my lunch brakez. and heres a bonus thang

#adam faulkner stanheight #adam faulkner #adam stanheight #saw 2004 #saw franchise #saw #i promise ill make a finished pic eventually. one day it wont be sketches. one day #ANYHOO. yeah i wanna post more but i pnly ever draw the same guy oops #so fuck it here he is!!!! #my art #click

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x ex-wife!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader have not been on great terms since their divorce, but an emerging situation with their son forces them to put aside their differences and work together and hope that past feelings don't resurface

WARNINGS — hospitalization, chronic illness, swearing, complicated feelings (idk y'all they're divorced what more can I say)

NOTE — Okay so I have so many things to say about this fic, but if I say them all this post will be way too long it already is like this came up as 33 pages in my docs but this is a day late birthday present for @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey who also provided the James pic I hope you had such a fun day and a great year of simping ahead!

Pronounciation — Mahlet = Ma-h-let | Hennock = Hey-knock

Ever since you had become a mother, birthday parties were the bane of your existence. The sugar overload, the loud noises, the cleanup afterwards, all amounted to your own personal hell. Yet, you would move hell or high water for your son to have the most enjoyable party every single year. 

Today was no different, eight years later you were still breaking your back to ensure every small detail was perfect, from the pin the spikes on the stegosaurus to the cake you’d spent at least a month painstakingly training to make. 

A friend of yours, another parent from the school your son Julian went to, came over in the kitchen to give you a hand with some of the snacks. 

“How are you managing here?” she asked and you took a deep breath. 

“Managing is the operative word,” you chuckled. “Kids having fun out there?” 

“Yeah, loads, you’ve outdone yourself again,” she assured you. “Will James be making an appearance?” 

“I stopped asking myself that question after we got divorced,” you said while fixing the plate of vegetables and dip. “He’s supposed to, he promised Julian, but we all know how that ends.” 

There seemed to be a bit of commotion out in the backyard and you tried to assess what was happening from the window, but your suspicions that something was off was confirmed when Julian’s best friend, Hennock, came rushing inside.

“Mrs. Wilson, something’s going on with Julian,” he said and you frowned while your friend followed you outside to see the kids circling around Julian who seemed to be gripping onto his chest. 

“Jay, what’s going on? Are you okay?” you bent down to be closer to his eye-level, trying to understand what was happening to your son. 

“Can’t…” he pointed to his mouth. “Can’t…breathe,” he wheezed. 

Your eyes went wide, but before you could grab him and run for the car he began to cough and you hoped and prayed there was just something caught in his throat that would make its way out, but with the coughing came spatters of red all over your white shirt.

“Mahi,” you looked over at your friend quickly while picking Julian up. You didn’t have to say a word, she already knew what she needed to do. 

Living close to the hospital, it was worth it to drive yourself, that way you didn’t have to wait for an ambulance to get to you. You had made the mental calculations many times before, just in case there was an emergency and now it was finally coming in handy. 

When you got Julian in the car, you checked in on his breathing, it was still laboured, but at least at this point he was getting in the air, even if he was coughing up blood. 

You turned on the car and began driving while calling your ex-husband with one hand. The line rang until you reached voicemail so you called again, expecting at least this time for him to pick up, only to hear the tone once more. 

“Dammit James!” you threw your phone down on the seat next to you knowing you’d deal with him later, now you needed to focus on getting to the hospital without killing either of you. 

Barely paying attention to how your car was parked, you grabbed Julian out of the back seat and ran into the ER with him. 

“Ma’am, what’s going on?” a nurse came and asked you as you put Julian down. 

“My son, he-he’s having trouble breathing and he’s coughing up blood I-I-I don’t know what’s happening.” 

Before you could say a word they had whisked Julian away and another nurse came to ask you some questions about his medical history and any information that may be important to the doctors treating him. 

“Where’s my son?” you asked, “I want to see my son.” 

“Ma’am I’m sorry, but the doctors are working on getting his airway cleared, you can’t be with him right now.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line and bit back your tongue. There were a million and one things you wanted to say to the nurse, but none of them would help your situation. On the other hand, finding your ex might. 

So instead of finding the waiting room you went over to the elevator and made your way up to the oncology department, briskly walking through the halls until you reached his office. At this point, you didn’t bother knocking, opening the door to see him sitting down over a file and talking with House. 

“Hey Greg,” you said in a fake cheery voice. “Mind giving us the room?” 

“Oh, this is the wife with the kid, did you forget to pay child support?” House asked James. 

“Get out, Greg,” you said warningly and he listened, instead opting to steal the rest of James’ sandwich and slipping past you, while wishing James good luck and letting you slam the door shut behind you. 

“What’s going on?” James asked, clearly confused by your demeanour and appearance. “If this is about the party I didn’t forget I was-wait is that blood,” he stood up from his chair and came over to you. 

“What’s going on is you didn’t pick up your fucking phone,” you said angrily. 

“Hey,” James looked at you sternly. “What is going on?” he repeated his question, this time more pointedly. 

You could feel your lips begin to tremble and your vision became blurred while you shook your head. 

“Who’s blood is on your shirt?” 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, “It’s Julian’s.” 

“Julian-I-what happened?” his demeanour changed from frustrated with your attitude towards him to worrying for his son. 

“I-I don’t know he said he couldn’t breathe and then he started coughing up blood and I just picked him up and drove him here a-and now they won’t let me see him.” 

“You drove him?” he asked incredulously. “You didn’t think to maybe call an ambulance?” 

“That’s what you’re hung up on? That I decided to drive because it was faster than getting him an ambulance?” 

“That’s not what I-,” 

“Yes it is,” you stepped back. “I wouldn’t have needed an ambulance if you were there.” 

James sighed and chose to ignore your comment, 

“Where is he?” he asked. 

“Emergency room,” you muttered. “They won’t let me see him, you need to talk to them, say something, anything.” 

James nodded his head, at least you could agree on that. He walked with you out of the office and to the elevator so you could go to the ER together and figure out what the hell was happening to your son. 

When you got down there and James began speaking to the nurses, they informed him that Julian had been moved to the ICU and his respiration was being closely monitored while they ran a few tests to see what had caused the arrest. 

You had to fight to hold yourself upright when they pulled back the curtain and you could see Julian hooked up to all the machines and with a ventilator tube stuck down his throat. You covered your mouth with your hand and shook your head again. This couldn’t be happening, now you were supposed to be cutting into cake and opening presents, not sitting in the ICU. 

You stepped inside with James and he closed the curtain to give you a bit of privacy and decided to look over his chart and see if they had given any relevant information there. Seeing none, he turned his attention over to you, seeing your eyes filled with tears, unable to tear your gaze away from your son. 

James walked over to you and cautiously put a hand on your shoulder, eventually encouraging you to turn around so he could pull you into his arms. You allowed your tears to soak his white coat, gripping onto him so tightly because there was nowhere else to hold. 

You could hear his breathing change, accompanied by the small sniffles and you knew he was doing just as bad as you were right now, wiping the tears from his own eyes as he finally allowed himself to see his son as he was, sick, helpless, vulnerable, and only moments ago, without his dad’s help when he needed him most. 

Your moment was interrupted when you heard the curtain being pulled back and you saw two doctors standing there. You pulled away from James and wiped whatever remaining tears were in your eyes so you could properly address them.

It seemed as though one of the doctors recognized James and when he looked down at the file and saw the name he made the connection internally. 

“Can we talk to you guys out in the waiting room for a moment?” he asked. 

“I don’t want to leave my son,” you shook your head. 

“Ma’am, this is the ICU and the visiting hours are very strictly adhered to, I think your husband maybe got lucky and pulled a few strings so you could see your son, but we need to leave now.” 

“He’s not my husband,” you muttered and reluctantly followed them out of the makeshift room and towards the waiting area. 

“Did you find out what was wrong?” James asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I looked at his chart. You took him for an emergency CT and bloodwork.” 

“We also ran a few other tests,” the doctor began explaining. “From the medical history your, um, ex wife gave I had a suspicion of something so we ran a sweat test to check for elevated chloride levels and it just came back positive.” 

“Chloride levels?” you looked up at James. “What does that mean?” 

James sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It means Julian has cystic fibrosis.” 

“I-I’ve heard of that, is it curable?” you asked. 

“I’ll leave you guys with Dr. Liu, he deals with the pediatric cystic fibrosis cases and will be able to answer your questions better than I can,” he wished you a good day and left you alone with the other doctor. 

“Cystic fibrosis is manageable-,” 

“So you can’t cure it,” you reiterated. 

The doctor shook his head, “Unfortunately there is no cure for CF yet, but many people have been able to live longer and happy lives with the medical technology now available.” 

James was silent, taking in all the information that was being presented. 

“How did he get it? Is it contagious or-or was it just always there?” you asked. 

“It’s a genetic condition, so he’s always had it, the symptoms have just gotten to the point where they’re now visible,” the doctor explained.

“I-It’s genetic so one of us is a carrier?” you pointed to you and James. 

“We both are,” James said. “Both parents have to be carriers to pass it down to their child, right?” 

Dr. Liu nodded and you pressed your lips together. 

“C-Can you just tell us what this means for right now?” you asked. “I just think-I think I need a minute.” 

Dr. Liu nodded his head and explained they were giving Julian medication to help with the infection and airway damage that caused him to cough up blood, then they would get him on some bronchodilators to help with his breathing for the time being while they assessed what other issues the cystic fibrosis had potentially caused in his body. He’d have to stay at the hospital for a while, but hopefully could be moved to the pediatric ward within the next day or so.

“We can talk more about what Julian’s medical journey will look like later, I’ll give you guys some time together and if you have any questions, Wilson’s got my pager and knows where my office is.” 

You nodded your head and thanked him quietly as he left the waiting area. You finally sat down on one of the chairs. 

James took the seat next to you and you covered your face with your hands. 

“We couldn’t give him a functional family and a happy home and now we’ve given him a chronic medical condition to top it off.” 

“Blaming ourselves isn’t going to do anything for Julian,” James said. 

“And sitting around here is?” you asked and James sighed. 

“No, no it’s not.” 

You sat there in silence for a little while longer before you noticed James stand up and motion for you to follow him. As much as you didn’t want to listen to him and just sit and wait until they would let you be with Julian again, you got up and followed him to one of the OR supply closets. He used a key to unlock the door and sifted through some materials until he found what he was looking for, pulling out a scrub shirt in your size and handing it over to you. 

You looked down at your own shirt, seeing the red specks of Julian’s blood and closed the door behind your both, pulling your shirt off over your head and handing it to James. You were about to put the other shirt on when you noticed the flecks of dried blood against your chest. 

While you eyes were transfixed on that, James had grabbed an alcohol wipe package from the shelves and tore it open with his teeth, removing the wipe and reaching over to help you clean the blood off yourself. 

“James, I can do it myself,” you reached for the wipe, but he pulled it away. 

“You’ve got some on your neck too, just let me take care of it,” he insisted. 

You knew better than to cause a fight over something trivial like this right now so you put your hands down, watching as James tossed your shirt over his shoulder and carefully began wiping away the specks of your son’s blood off your chest, collarbone, and neck. 

“Have you eaten today?” he asked you while holding your face to tilt it to the side so he could get a spot he’d missed earlier. 

“No, why?” 

“Because it’s his birthday, you’d always forget to eat until dinner and even then it would be scraps from the party until I forced you to eat something better,” he recounted. “Let’s just go grab something from the cafeteria before we go back to the ICU, okay?” 

“Will it make a difference if I say I’m not hungry?” you asked. 

“You can’t take care of Julian if you’re not taking care of yourself.” 

You scoffed and pulled the shirt over your head, “And you’ve suddenly become an expert on taking care of your family?” 

“Believe it or not, we were once happy and there was a reason we got married and decided to have a child together.” 

“And there’s a reason we got divorced too,” you added and opened the door behind you.

You didn’t go to the cafeteria, instead heading back to the ICU waiting room knowing either visiting hours would have to start eventually or they’d move Julian to his own room and you could finally sit with him. 

James clearly hadn’t followed you so you ended up alone again, wringing your hands and waiting for some sort of news. 

Eventually, you felt a bag drop on your lap and you looked up and saw James standing overtop of you. You looked inside and saw a package of a sandwich, a small bag of chips, and a water bottle. 

You knew he was right, that if you didn’t take care of yourself you wouldn’t be able to take care of Julian, so you forced yourself to eat, even if you didn’t want to. 

A little while later, Dr. Liu had returned and informed you that they were moving Julian to the pediatric ward and you could stay with him there in his room. When you joined him there, James had taken off his white coat and tossed it on one of the chairs, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and sitting down next to Julian’ taking one of his hands in his own. 

“Don’t you have patients you need to see?” you asked, sitting on the opposite side of the hospital bed. 

“I told Cuddy I needed the day, someone else is taking care of it for me,” he said, not removing his gaze from Julian. 

With the two of them sitting next to each other like that, you could clearly see the similarities Julian had with his father. They shared the same eyes and nose, and when they smiled they had the same little creases around their eyes. 

You wished that’s what you could have been looking at, them smiling together, instead of the frown etched onto James’ face and Julian still fast asleep while an oxygen mask now delivered the air he needed to help him breathe. 

“Do you know much about cystic fibrosis?” you asked James, brushing your thumb against Julian’s other hand. 

“Only that it mainly affects the digestive system and the respiratory tract,” he explained. “I’m not too familiar with how it's managed, just that there’s regular doctor’s visits and probably some medication and therapies involved.” 

You could feel a small stirring and you looked down and saw Julian’s hand begin to move underneath yours. 

You smiled when you saw his eyes blink open and James was quick to stand up and come closer to him so he had a familiar face to look at while he took in his surroundings. 

“Hey buddy,” James smiled and you could see Julian light up at the sight of his dad. He lifted his hand to try to remove the oxygen mask, but James gently encouraged him not to. “This is giving your lungs an extra hand right now, let’s just keep it on until the doctor tells us it's okay to take it off.” 

“But you’re a doctor,” Julian countered and James chuckled. 

“I am, but I'm not your doctor. I am, however, your dad so you have to listen to me anyways,” he teased and bent down to kiss his son’s cheek and tickle him a little bit in the process. 

“Hey, go easy on him,” you placed a gentle hand on James' arm and he laid off. 

“You know,” James said. “It’s still your birthday.” 

“It is?” Julian asked and you both nodded and James reached down to grab something he’d brought with him. 

“All the presents your friends got you are at home waiting for you to get better so you can open them, but this is what I got for you,” he said. “I was gonna come and bring it to the party, but I think you brought the party to me.” 

Julian laughed a little at that and you rolled your eyes, of course James could make himself look good by not showing up. 

He sat up with the help of his dad and pulled out the tissue paper from the bag to see the present that was hiding underneath. With a big grin on his face, he took out a dinosaur stuffed animal along with a book all about the different species of the Cretaceous period. 

“This is awesome,” Julian grinned. “Thanks dad, I love it.” 

James gave Julian another kiss and you joined them, taking a seat on the bed and glancing over at the book on Julian’s lap. 

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” you asked, fixing the twisted band of the oxygen mask on his face. 

“My throat hurts a little bit,” he admitted. “And I’m kinda hungry.” 

“Let me call a nurse and we’ll see what you can eat,” you said and pressed the button to send someone over from the nurses’ station. 

Meanwhile, James poured Julian a glass of water and helped him take a few sips of it. His throat was probably irritated from being on the ventilator, but his lungs had become stabilized from the use of the bronchodilators. 

The nurse came and you spoke to her about getting Julian something to eat and she said she’d double check with Dr. Liu and then grab him some food. 

“Hey, Jay,” you walked over to the bed and took your son’s hand in yours. “Are you okay to hang out here with dad while I go grab some stuff from home? The doctors said we might hang around here for a few days so I think I need to pack a bag.” 

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Julian nodded. “Are you okay mom?” he reached up and touched your cheek and you realized you'd let a few more tears slip.

“Yeah, I’m just really happy you’re okay,” you wiped the tears away and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “Right, Jamie? We’re both happy he’s okay.” 

James looked over at you with softness reflecting in his eyes at the sound of the nickname he hadn’t heard in a long time and nodded his head. 

“Bring some cake back with you,” Julian whispered. “Even if dad and the doctor say no we can sneak some.” 

You laughed at his plan and gave him another kiss, assuring him you’d pack some in a container to bring for him when you came back.

When you arrived at your home, you thought you might cry at the sight in front of you. The kitchen and living room were completely clean, presents piled neatly on the coffee table along with a new card you didn’t recognize. Coming closer, you noticed the bright marker, signature of eight-year-olds across the country, with the message Get Well Soon Julian! written on it and signed by all his friends who had attended the party. 

You packed the card in your bag along with a few other things and made a mental note to grab a nice thank you gift for Mahlet to thank her for what she had done. 

As promised, you cut a big chunk of cake, enough for the three of you to share, and packed it in a tupperware to bring back to the hospital. 

You grabbed a few changes of clothes for both you and Julian and changed out of the temporary shirt you had on and into something more comfortable for the rest of the evening, making sure everything you needed was in place before heading out and going back to the hospital. 

When you got back to Julian’s room you saw James squished in next to him on the bed, the book he had bought him opened on his lap as he read its contents to Julian. Julian was resting his head against James’ arm and James was doing those big exaggerations he always would whenever he’d read bedtime stories to Julian, emphasizing all the insane details and changing the inflections of his voice in just the right way to make him laugh. 

“I brought cake,” you grinned, holding up the container as you entered the room, holding three plastic forks. “If Dr. Dad says it's okay, we can eat it.” 

“Dr. Dad desperately needs some sugar,” James nodded his head and closed the book for the time being while you took a seat by Julian’s legs and opened the container, handing each of the boys a fork. 

You helped Julian take off his oxygen mask for the time being and placed it off to the side, acutely aware of how his breathing sounded more laboured without it. 

James only snuck in a couple bites of the cake before taking the mask from your side and holding it ready in case Julian needed a bit of an extra hand. 

Just as he had predicted, after a few bites of cake Julian was noticing a bit of a difficulty to get air into his lungs and James held up the mask to his face, allowing him to take a couple deep breaths. 

“What do you think of the cake, Jay?” you asked. 

“Really good, just like everytime you make it,” he grinned. 

“I’m sorry you didn’t have a great birthday, buddy,” James apologized. “I mean with all your friends and classmates.” 

“What do you mean?” Julian asked. “I think I had a good birthday.” 

“You do?” you frowned curiously, wondering what kind of light he’d seen in the day that you and James as worried parents had somehow missed. “What made it good?”

“We’re sitting eating cake. Together. Just like when I was little,” he said simply and you chewed on the inside of your cheek, looking over at James whose gaze hadn’t left Julian. He almost looked disappointed, at what, you couldn’t place, but at least for the moment Julian was happy and that was all either of you really wanted. 

—

You grabbed your purse from the ground and thanked Dr. Liu for all of the information he had given you and assured you’d be there with Julian at the allocated follow-up time you had arranged. You were just about to leave when James came rushing into the room, apologies spewing out of his mouth for being late. 

“Late? You missed the whole appointment.”

“I-I did?” he said, looking down at his watch and cursing when he saw the time. 

“Jay, sweetheart, why don’t you sit down here,” you moved out of Dr. Liu’s office and set him up on a chair in one of the general waiting areas and handed him his dinosaur book from your purse. “I just need to go have a chat with your dad real quick.” 

Julian nodded and opened up the book, flipping through the pages while you grabbed James’ arm and pulled him into a dead-end hallway so you could speak in private. 

“What the hell took you so long?” you asked firmly. “We waited for twenty minutes before even starting the appointment!” 

“I’m sorry,” James apologized, “I was in the OR with a patient and something went haywire and it took longer than expected to fix it.” 

“Still, you couldn’t have told someone to at least pass on a message?” 

“I was in the middle of saving a patient’s life! What did you want me to do?” 

“I wanted you to be there for your son,” you whispered harshly. “You make promises you can’t keep and I have to watch him get disappointed over and over again. He does not deserve that, especially now.” 

James placed his hands on his hips and said, 

“I am trying to be there, it’s not for lack of effort-,” 

“Well try harder!” you threw your hands up in the air. “You’re an ex-husband James, not an ex-father. You don’t have to show up for me anymore, but you damn well better show up for him.” 

When he said nothing you continued. 

“Believe it or not, you don’t have to work as much as you do James. You chose to do that and right now that’s coming at your son’s expense and he is scared and vulnerable and neither of us know half of what Dr. Liu is talking to us about. Do you know what he said to me when I was confused about the management plan? He said Dad would know what this means. Dad can help us. And he’s right, you would have known and you can help so stop acting like your fucking schedule controls you and get your schedule under control.” 

James was quiet for a moment before he nodded his head, 

“Okay,” he said simply. 

You knew better than to get your hopes up with him and you didn’t have any more energy to argue, so you told him you could talk more later, but right now you were going to take Julian home so he could rest in his own bed and finally open his birthday presents. 

“Is dad coming with us?” Julian asked when you picked him up and began walking away to leave the hospital. 

“No, not this time,” you shook your head. 

“Did you fight with him again?” Julian asked and you pressed your lips together. 

“We just had a disagreement,” you settled on. “You can call him later when he’s done work if you want to talk to him, sounds good?” 

Julian was content with your answer and left it at that. 

Over the next few days, aside from Julian’s call, you didn’t hear much for James and you assumed things were right on track to going back to the way they had always been. You loved your son to pieces, but this was one time you wished his dad would be here to support, working and caring for Julian on top of trying to figure out how to be his at home doctor was already taking its toll and you didn’t know how you’d be able to keep it up. 

One night, you were sitting in the living room reading a book Dr. Liu had recommended. It was detailing strategies for parents with children who had cystic fibrosis. In the middle of your chapter you were interrupted by a knock to your door and you put in your bookmark, wondering who was stopping by this far into the evening. 

Unlocking the door and opening it, you found it hard to hide the surprise in your face when you saw James on the other end. 

“James?” you tilted your head. “I haven’t heard from you at all this week, what’s going on?” 

“I reduced my patient load,” he said, “and I talked to Cuddy about reducing my clinic hours. I still have to do some administrative stuff for the department, but it can be done from home for the most part.” 

“Oh,” you were surprised to say the least. You didn’t realize your outburst the other day had worked. 

“You were right,” he said. “I need to be here for Julian and I can’t do that if my work always comes first.” 

You nodded your head, following along with what he was saying. 

“C-Can I come in and see him?” James asked. “I know our custody agreement has always been all over the place-,” 

You didn’t say anything, simply opening the door wider for him to come inside. 

“He’s asleep in his room,” you said. “When you’re done we can talk some more.” 

James nodded and stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and taking off his jacket, making his way to Julian’s room to sit with him for a moment before joining you in the kitchen. 

“Want something to drink?” you asked and he said some water would be nice. You poured him a glass while waiting for the water to boil for your tea. 

“I saw the book you were reading over there,” he pointed to the couch. “Dr. Liu recommended it to me too, I just finished it the other night.” 

“Show off,” you rolled your eyes and handed him the glass. 

“What I was trying to say is I think something that stood out to me is having consistency and a routine is good, especially when things are new,” James explained. “I don’t think it makes sense for him to be moving back and forth from here to my place.” 

“So you think we should have a home base here?” you confirmed and he nodded. 

“I can come by more often, if there’s days where you need to be at work I can be doing the administrative stuff here after school and take care of Julian until you get back.” 

You pursed your lips and as you heard the kettle click, moved to pour your hot water into the mug you were holding. 

“These are all good ideas,” you started. 

“I’m assuming there’s a but coming?” 

“But I don’t want to give Julian the wrong impression is all.” 

James shook his head. 

“You really need to pick whatever it is you want,” James crossed his arms over his chest. “First I’m not here enough, I don’t put my family first. Now I’m putting my family first and you’re worried Julian’s going to think this means we’re getting back together.” 

“He doesn’t need to get his hopes up for something that’s never going to happen,” you said flatly. 

“Have you ever considered having a conversation with him instead of shielding him from every little thing that might hurt him?” James asked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Clearly every little thing can hurt him!” you pointed over to his room. “He can’t even breathe without help, James. Maybe he needs to be protected.” 

“Stop, just stop,” James ran a hand over his face. “I can’t get into a fight with you every single time we see each other. Julian is just as much my son as he is yours, if this is going to work we need to be able to have a conversation with each other.” 

You took a sip of your tea and said,

“Okay, I’m worried Julian might take the fact that you’re around more the wrong way.” 

James nodded his head, “I hear you, so maybe we should talk to him about it and say I’m coming around more to lend a hand around the house and help take care of him.” 

“Dad? What are you doing here?” as if on cue, Julian had walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes awake and adjusting to the light. 

“Julian, where’s your oxygen mask?” 

“I don’t wanna wear it mom,” he whined. “I don’t like the way it feels on my face.” 

You sighed, having had this conversation at least five times before, you didn’t know what else you could say to convince him. 

“Hey buddy, maybe we should listen to mom on this one,” James suggested. “You know that feeling you’ve got right here,” he pointed to his chest. “That’s only gonna get worse if you don’t wear it and we don’t want to have to go to the hospital again, right?” 

Julian shook his head and sighed, stomping back over to his room to grab the portable machine and place the tube under his nose and around his ears, allowing him to get the right amount of oxygen. 

You looked over at James gratefully and he reached his hand out to yours and gave it a squeeze. It was nice being on the same team even if you had just been arguing. 

When Julian came back he repeated his question to his dad who explained that he was here to talk to you about a few things that would be changing soon and that he’d be around more to help look after him. 

“If you’re going to be here to help look after me can you stay tonight?” Julian asked. “Mom still has some of your clothes in those boxes in her closet.” 

“She does, does she,” James looked over at you. 

“It was the stuff you wanted to give away and I never got around to it,” you said. “There’s probably a hoodie and some pyjama pants in there if you want to stay.” 

James pressed his lips together and sighed, 

“You know buddy as much as I would love to have a sleepover with you I don’t think it’s a good idea if I spend the night here,” James said. “But I can tuck you in again and wait until you fall asleep to go back home.” 

“Mom, can you come too?” Julian asked and you nodded your head. 

James stood up and helped Julian carry his portable oxygen machine back to his bedroom and you trailed behind them, watching as James carefully tucked Julian back under the covers while peppering his face with small kisses, like he would do when Julian was younger and just learning to sleep in his own room. 

“Dad that tickles,” Julian giggled and James simply smiled and continued littering his face with kisses. 

“Too bad. I love you too much; I just can’t get enough of you.” 

“Alright, move it,” you nudged James from the opposite side of the bed and took your turn. “It must tickle having two parents who love you so damn much.” 

“It does,” Julian’s laughter died out as you both finally left him alone, sitting on either side of his mattress. 

You both wished him a good night and waited as he slowly fell back asleep. When his breathing was steady and his grip loosened on yours and James’ hands you took it as your cue to leave the room. 

James placed a hand on your shoulder as you stepped out of the room, prompting you to turn around and face him. 

“I’ll come by tomorrow and we can work out a schedule or something, does that sound good?”

You nodded your head, 

“Yeah, I have a work thing tomorrow in the evening, I was gonna ask Mahlet, Hennock’s mom, if she could come look after Julian, but if you’re around…” 

“I’ll come for dinner and then do the bedtime routine,” he said and you smiled. 

“James I’m begging you-,” 

“I won’t be late,” he assured. “No surgeries planned and I’m ending my shift with clinic duty.” 

You pressed your lips into a thin line and nodded your head. 

“I’ll see you then,” you patted his arm and he showed himself out. 

You walked back to the kitchen grabbing your now lukewarm cup of tea and sitting back on the couch picking up your book and opening it, reading until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer, falling asleep right there on the couch. 

—

Over the next few months, you, James, and Julian had developed some sort of routine around school, work, and doctor’s appointments. A part of you thought you were spending more time together as a family than when you were married. 

Today you had to go in for work, also having reduced your hours, but in a way that you were working in tandem with James. When you arrived back home the house smelled like warm spices and big plates of home-cooked food. 

You dropped your keys on the entryway table, next to James’ keys and wallet and took off your jacket, hanging it up before coming to the kitchen and seeing Julian and Hennock doing their homework at the island. 

“Mr. Wilson, what is the difference between these two words?” Hennock asked, holding up his paper so James could see while cutting some vegetables for a salad. 

“I think the first one is the kind of principal in your school that looks after all the students and the other one is… man, that’s hard to describe. Hey, how do you describe what principle is to an eight-year-old?” James asked you. 

“I think that kind of principle is something that guides the way people behave or act,” you sat next to Julian and Hennock. “Like a principle is the foundation for something that people believe in.” 

Hennock and Julian still looked a little confused by your explanation so you tried to give an example. 

“So a principle could be to be kind to everyone we meet and so people who believe in that principle will try to follow it.” 

That put it in better terms for them to understand and there was a chorus of oh’s before they looked back down at their papers and scribbled down a few things to answer the questions they were asked. 

“They learning about homonyms?” you asked James and he nodded.

“I talked to Mahlet,” James said, changing the topic. “Hennock’s gonna stay for dinner and she’ll come pick him up around seven.” 

“Sounds good, it’s always nice to have you, Henny,” you smiled and ruffled your hand through his coarse curly hair in an endearing way. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Wilson,” Hennock smiled. 

James was now over the stove, stirring what looked like a soup before giving it a taste and figuring something might be missing.

“Can you taste this?” James asked. “I don’t know why, but every time I make it there’s something off.” 

You took a spoon and tried a little bit of the broth, looking down to see that he was making matzah ball soup and immediately when you tasted it you knew what was missing. 

“I know what it is,” you said. “But you can’t tell your mom I told you. She swore me to secrecy.” 

“My mother told you this?” James asked and you nodded. 

“When we were getting married she wanted me to know how to make it the way she would for you when you were sick.” 

“And she didn’t think to tell her own son how to do this?” he seemed thoroughly offended, but all you could do was laugh. 

“It’s tarragon. I don’t think it’s something everyone adds, it was just something special she’d put in hers to make it a little different. Here,” you reached into the spice cupboard and took out a jar of dried tarragon and took a bit of the herb out of the container and crushed it in your hands before sprinkling it into the soup. James mixed it in and gave the broth a minute to soak in the flavour before trying it again and shaking his head. 

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me!” 

“I’ll let you finish having your little meltdown,” you patted his back. “I’m gonna hop in the shower quickly and we can eat when I get out.” 

“Did Dad forget the tarragon?” Julian asked and you nodded your head. 

“Wow, so everyone knew, but me?” James asked and you nodded your head with a shrug. 

“Sorry, I guess your mom has favourites, or something.” 

“Figures,” James teasingly rolled his eyes and you chuckled, waving him off and going to take a shower and change into something a little more comfortable. 

When you came back outside they had migrated to the dining room table, each with a bowl of soup in front of them and a plate of salad. You sat on the same side as James since Julian and Hennock were already sitting next to each other and the boys happily recounted the details of their school day and playdate with you while everyone ate their soup and salad. 

“What did you do at work, Dad?” James asked. 

“Oh, nothing interesting,” he shook his head. “I think your mom was doing bigger things than me.” 

“Bigger than treating people with cancer? You flatter me,” you drank some of your soup’s broth. “I had a meeting with a big company about a building they’re making.” 

“Did you go do a site visit?” James asked and you nodded. 

“Engineers are being a pain in the butt, keep making me adjust the design, but we’ll see who gets the last laugh.” 

“Mom always does,” Julian told Hennock and they chuckled along with James. 

After dinner James helped you clear up some of the dishes before heading out and leaving you with the boys. When Mahlet came by to pick Hennock up you invited her in for tea and a little visit. 

“Thanks for coming to stay with Julian the other night,” you said after handing her a mug. “For once, I was the late one and James had an emergency come up so it was a huge help.” 

“And how are things now, with the co-parenting?” 

You took a sip of your tea, “Weirdly good,” you admitted. “We don’t argue as much which is nice and Julian gets to see his dad more.” 

“Do you think maybe you’re not fighting because he’s changing?” she asked. 

“I don’t wanna go down that path,” you shook your head. “If Jay hadn’t been diagnosed things would still be the same as they always were.” 

“But they’re not. More often than not people show their true colours during times of difficulty.” 

You took a deep breath and sighed, “If that was the case I would have seen something worth keeping when my marriage was falling apart.” 

Mahlet nodded, seeing as you had a point and your conversation was halted as they boys came out of Julian’s room. 

Mahlet and Hennock left shortly afterwards and you quickly got Julian ready for bed, tucking him in and then going to get settled yourself. You looked through a few client papers for work before calling it a night and turning off your bedside lamp, curling into bed and falling asleep. 

Your sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night by a tapping on your shoulder and when you blinked your eyes open you saw Julian standing next to your bed. 

“Jay, sweetheart, is something wrong?” you asked. 

“My stomach really hurts,” he told you and you sat up, motioning for him to come sit with you on the bed. 

“Where?” you asked, turning on the light and he pointed to the upper right corner of his abdomen. If you remembered correctly that wasn’t exactly where his stomach was and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw the yellowing whites of his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, I think we have to go to the hospital.” 

“The hospital? What happened?” Julian looked worried and you assured him everything would be alright. 

“We’re just being safe,” you told him. “I’m gonna call your dad, maybe he can tell us a little bit more of what’s going on. Do you feel good enough to get your jacket and shoes and your hospital bag?” 

Julian nodded his head and you gave him a kiss and he went off to grab his things while you did the same, but also taking your cell phone and calling James. 

It took a few rings, but he eventually picked up. 

“Hey, did something happen?” he asked and you could still hear the sleep thick in his voice. 

“I think something’s wrong with Julian. I’m gonna take him to the hospital, can you meet us there?” 

“Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.” 

“James…the whites of his eyes were yellow. Does he have jaundice?” you asked.

“It’s possible, was there anything else?” 

“Yeah, he mentioned stomach pain, but he pointed to like his upper right abdomen, I think,” you explained while grabbing your bag and putting on some socks. 

“Makes sense as a liver issue,” you could hear his car starting in the background. “If he’s presenting symptoms now I would call an ambulance.” 

“James-,” 

“Just trust me,” he said. “Call 911.” 

“Okay,” you nodded your head and hung up, calling the emergency services and explaining the situation to them and then to Julian while you waited for them to arrive. 

James made the right call, seeing as while you were in the ambulance Julian began to throw up and the paramedics obviously handled it better than you could have if you had driven him. 

When you arrived at the ER they wheeled Julian away and you began getting flashbacks to when you first brought him in. 

“Where are you taking him?” you called after them, but no one answered you. “What the hell kind of hospital is this?! Where are you taking my son?!” 

“Ma’am they're taking your son to do a liver biopsy,” one of the nurses came back and informed you. “We need you to sign this consent form.” 

You nodded your head and took the pen from her hand, signing it, but just as you were about to ask her a question she ran off to give them the okay. 

You could feel your anger and worry bubbling inside your throat and you wanted to let it out in a scream and you were about to go running after her, but before you could you felt someone grab your wrist and pull you back. 

“James let me go,” you said warningly, looking back at your ex-husband. 

“No,” he stated just as firmly. 

“James-,” 

“I am not going to let you do something you’re going to regret,” he said and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, even when you pushed to get away. 

“James, let me go.”

“No,” he repeated and simply held onto you tighter. 

“Let me-,” your voice broke and you stopped pushing away. “Please, Jamie, please I just want to see him,” you cried into his shirt and he squeezed you so tight you thought you might get bruises in your arm from the way he was holding you. 

“I know, I know,” he whispered. “You brought him here and he’s going to be fine.” 

“I can’t do this anymore, James. I can't be his mom and his doctor and they can’t expect me to wait out here while they drag him away and ask me to consent to God knows what.” 

James didn’t know what to tell you, instead he just continued to hold you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back, and pressed a soft kiss against your temple. 

You wrapped your arms around him and finally let yourself fully sink into his embrace, hating yourself for how much you liked it and how good it made you feel while your son was in some back corner of the ER getting a piece of his liver biopsied.

Eventually James pulled away from you, helping you dry your tears on the sleeve of his sweater and walking with his arm wrapped around you to the waiting area. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, but it was possible that you had dozed off once or twice against James’ arm, waiting to hear some sort of news from the ER doctor. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Wilson?” 

Your eyes blinked open when James gently shook you awake. 

“That’s us,” he said. “Is Julian okay?” 

“Your son has a mild case of cirrhosis,” the doctor explained. “Due to his cystic fibrosis diagnosis we believe this is due to clogging and inflammation in his bile ducts.” 

“What does that mean for him? Does he need surgery to fix it?” you asked, fighting back a tired yawn. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” the doctor nodded. “It’s good you caught it early, there’s minimal damage to his liver so far and he’s still growing which means his liver is too. We can get him into an OR tomorrow if you consent to the surgery.” 

You looked over at James and he nodded his head. You trusted him and told the doctor you would sign the papers as soon as you could see Julian. 

“He’s been moved to the pediatric ward for now and Dr. Liu has been informed of the development. He should be in touch with you tomorrow.” 

“Thank you,” James said and when the doctor left, he helped you up and you began the walk up to the pediatric ward. 

When you arrived a nurse pointed you in the direction of his room and after each pressing a kiss to Julain’s forehead you sat on the seat bench together. 

“We should sleep,” James said, but you had a hard time imagining how that would be possible. 

“I’m having a hard time working out the logistics,” you admitted. 

“Come on, it’ll be just like on the way back from our honeymoon,” he insisted, recalling your extremely delayed flight on the way back from France, causing you to sleep with your head on James’ lap, stretched out along the airport chairs. 

You were too tired to argue or try and find another way, so you leaned down and rested your head against his legs, closing your eyes and sighing when you felt his hand rub up and down in long motions along the side of your body. Sleep could not have come quicker.

—

“Mom…Mom, Dad?” 

Julian rolled his eyes when he received no answer and grabbed the stuffed animal you had placed next to him when he’d come into the room and threw it at his sleeping parents, nailing his dad in the face. 

“Oh, God, mhm, wake up,” James shook you while he raised his hands to rub his face.

“Huh?” you opened your eyes and pushed yourself off of James’ lap. “Oh crap, my back. Remind me not to listen to you when you talk about doing something I did ten years ago.” 

“Julian, did you throw Steggy at my face?” James asked, picking up the stuffed animal from where it had fallen on you. 

“You weren’t getting up,” Julian shrugged his shoulders. 

“Julian,” you chastised and took the dinosaur from James’ hand. “You could have hurt your dad’s important doctor-face,” you joked and rubbed your hand all over James’ face making Julian laugh. 

“Okay, okay,” James moved your hand away and gave you a look. 

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” you yawned and moved from the bench to the side of his bed. 

“A little better,” he said. “Did the doctors fix what was wrong?” 

“Not yet,” James shook his head and came to sit next to you and placed a hand on Julian’s. “You’re gonna have to go in for surgery today.” 

“A surgery?” Julian looked a little nervous. “Like cut me open?” 

“It’ll be just a line right here,” James drew it with his finger along Julian’s abdomen. “They’re going to fix a part of you called your bile duct and then sew you right back up and you’ll be good as new.” 

“Is it dangerous?” he asked. 

You looked over at James, a small note telling him to lie to make him feel better. He didn’t need to know all the details. 

“No,” James shook his head. “You’re gonna be fine and your mom and I will be here the whole time.” 

“Promise?” Julian whispered. 

“Swear on it,” James leaned in towards his son and snuck a kiss to his cheek. “We love you, buddy.” 

“I love you guys too.” 

Dr. Liu came by a little while later to inform you what time the surgery was scheduled for and he helped make Julian feel a lot better about the procedure. When it was finally time for him to go, you were a nervous wreck, but tried not to let it show for Julian’s sake, instead just pressing a big kiss to his forehead and telling him you’d be waiting for him once he got out. 

It only took about fifteen minutes of your pacing to get James to grab onto your arm and make you stop. 

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the ground,” he said. 

“I don’t know what to do with myself,” you admitted. “If I sit I’m gonna fidget, if I stand I’m going to pace.” 

“Then come on, let’s go to my office for a second, grab a coffee and a snack and then we can come back out and wait,” he suggested. 

You agreed to his idea so he stood up and you walked side by side to his office, passing House who had some comment about your dishevelled appearance together. 

“You’re an interesting man, Greg,” you shook your head at him. “You can’t think of any other reason we might be here?” 

House was silent so James explained, 

“Julian’s in surgery right now. He’s got cirrhosis.” 

“Ah so not a late night ex-wife rendez-vous. Can’t get ‘em right all the time,” he shrugged and you chuckled. “I hope the kid’s alright.” 

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you admitted. 

He raised his brows and lifted his cane to say goodbye, letting you and James continue your walk to his office. 

“House mind that you’re not spending as much time here?” you asked. 

“No, he just bothers me more when I am around,” James said while opening the door and letting you inside. 

He went towards his desk and pulled out a few packages of snacks tossing you one and you shook your head when you saw the label. 

“You still eat these? I thought the FDA recalled them?” you asked sarcastically. 

“I’m sorry I have better taste in food than you do,” he said right back. 

“Right, this is food,” you chuckled. “And if you have such good taste why didn’t your mom tell you about her secret ingredient?” 

“That’s cold,” he pointed to you with a bag of chips in his hand. 

“No, it’s true. Just like your dad telling me I was his favourite wife of yours,” you opened the bag James had tossed you. 

“Just shut up and eat your snack,” James chuckled and you listened to him, beginning to eat a little something, not realizing how hungry you were until the food made its way to your stomach. 

“You got another one of these?” you asked and he nodded, passing it to you when you were finished with the first one. 

“Feeling a little better?” James asked and you nodded your head. 

“Hey James?” you said, unsure of how you’d gotten to this point, but you were too exhausted to stop yourself from saying it. “I want you to move back in.” 

“You want me to do what?” he raised his brows and looked at you stunned. 

“I want you to move back in with me and Julian,” you said. “It’s becoming pretty clear to me that it’s safer to have two people around when possible than not and you’re already around all the time now.” 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “I mean you didn’t want to give Julian the wrong idea about us.” 

“Our lives changed the second we got that diagnosis. I think we need to change along with everything else.” 

You couldn’t believe that just barely twelve hours ago you were telling your friend there was no chance James had changed, but here you were saying things that had proved you had changed. Things you wouldn’t have dreamt of saying a year ago. 

“Okay,” James nodded. “I’ll move back in.” 

You just silently hoped you wouldn’t regret asking. 

Waiting for Julian to get out of surgery was a little easier now that you had some food in your stomach and you decided to wait on coffee until you got the note from the surgeon that everything had gone well. 

As James had continued to assure you almost a hundred times, the surgery went fine and before you knew it you were back in Julian’s room watching him sleep off the anaesthetic. 

“You know he looks like you when he sleeps,” James said from the bench while you sat on the bed next to Julian. 

“He does?” 

“Yeah, his nose does that same scrunchy thing when he sniffles and when he snores-,” 

“Hey, I only snore when I’m congested,” you said defensively. 

“I never minded,” James smiled. “I thought it was cute when you sounded like an old man.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not fond of all my old man characteristics,” you turned around to face him, still holding Julian’s hand in yours. 

“All your old man characteristics?” James furrowed his brows in confusion. 

“You told me I argued like an old man. Stubborn and could only see my own way. And I fought dirty.” 

“You sure did,” James nodded. “If you brandishing my mother’s clear favouritism shows anything, it’s definitely that you fight dirty, but I never said I disliked that about you.” 

“Really? Near the end I thought there was a lot you disliked about me.” 

James shook his head, “No, I was just upset and you were passionate. It wasn’t like my other marriages where things just…fizzled.” 

“We did go out with a bang,” you inhaled deeply. 

“If it weren’t for Julian… do you think we’d…” 

You shook your head. 

“No, we probably never would have seen each other again. Another old man trait, I hold a pretty mean grudge.” 

James pressed his lips together and looked over at his sleeping son. 

“I’m happy we had him,” he said quietly. “Even if we didn’t work out.” 

“Me too,” you agreed, looking over at Julian quietly snoring, just like his dad had said. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Julian’s nose watching him scrunch it up, making you smile. It was a miracle that two such flawed individuals could make a child so perfect. 

—

“Alright, he is asleep, but I do warn you it took some bribery so you’ll have to buy him another dinosaur book to read to him at night,” you walked out of Julian’s room, dusting your hands off like you’d just finished a heavy labour job. 

“I’ll run to the bookstore tomorrow,” James nodded and you fell onto the couch next to him and sighing as you sunk into the plush fabric before noticing what he was doing. 

“Where did you pull these out of?” you asked with a soft chuckle. 

“I was just clearing up the closet in the guest bedroom and I found a box of these,” he picked up the albums. “Look at this one.” 

He placed the book of photos on your lap and you smiled seeing as it was Julian’s baby album, filled with small mementos and little notes you and James had made in the margins. 

“Oh my God, Mom’s first day home, she looks like an angel,” you read from the side. “And my response: I look like I just got hit by a bus, cut it out.” 

“You can still read my chicken scratch writing?” James asked. 

“My most useless talent as I like to call it,” you nodded. “You wrote a lot in here.” 

“I used to bring it with me to work cause I missed you guys so much,” he admitted. “Made me feel closer to you.” 

You read through some of the notes in the book, chuckling a little at some of the written back and forth you had. Eventually you got to the family portraits you’d had taken a few months after Julian was born, smiling softly to yourself. 

You remembered the day well, you felt like you hadn’t slept in weeks, James was just getting off of a twelve-hour shift and you were almost late to your appointment with the photographer. You were worried everything was going to look terrible and you’d barely had enough time to do your hair or makeup, but James had silenced your worries with a kiss and assured you the pictures would be fine. 

In the end most of them were terrible, but the photographer managed to get two shots, one of you and James smiling down at Julian in your arms and another immediately after where you were looking up and smiling at each other. 

“That session was a shitshow,” you recalled and James agreed. “We did get a few nice things out of it though.” 

You looked back down at the pile of albums in front of you and noticed a large white one, tucked under a few things and even though nothing good could come of it, you pulled it out from the bottom of the pile, carefully blowing off the dust and turning the first page. 

Centerfold, just like you remembered it, was a picture of you and James on your wedding day. You leaned further back into the couch and James scooched in closer to get a look. 

You both looked younger in the picture, with that spark of je ne sais quoi in your eyes. 

“I told you there was a reason we got married,” he said quietly, his hand brushing the corner of the photo. 

“Yeah, we loved each other,” you said. “That was the reason.” 

“Same reason we decided to have Julian,” he added. 

You could feel your breathing become a little more shallow and a tightness in your chest as James spoke about Julian. You remembered the conversations so clearly, like you’d had them yesterday, caught between happy and passionate kisses while James made some dirty jokes about getting you pregnant. 

That was back when he still couldn’t get enough of you. Before things changed and he slowly distanced himself until it felt like it was just you and Julian against the rest of the world, and not the three of you like he had promised all those nights throughout your pregnancy. 

You wondered quietly to yourself what had changed? What had become so unbearable that there was distance in the first place? There was never a lack of love on your end which is why this was dangerous. 

At least when there was distance you could be angry with him, you could go to bed at night and not remember all the little things that made you love him in the first place. He wasn’t there as a constant  reminder that you loved his cooking, or even just your banter together. More importantly, it was giving you new reasons to feel that fluttering feeling in your stomach. 

You’d always loved how he’d interact with Julian, but now that you got to see it day in and day out, it made it harder to weigh that against the cons of everything. Most notably, this was the beginning of the end. If you let yourself fall you would both crash and Julian would be caught in the middle once again. 

You tried to distract yourself by flipping through the album photos to find some funny old picture of a relative or maybe even an embarrassing moment to tone down whatever it was that looking at that picture was making you feel. 

All you could focus on was how in every picture, almost without fail, James was looking over at you. Rarely into the camera along with everyone else. He was enamoured, that was the only word to describe it, and oh how much you missed that look. 

You made the mistake of tearing away your gaze from the pictures, looking up at James instead, and for a moment you thought just maybe you saw that same look in his eyes. But no. It couldn’t have been. The dim light of the lamp must have been playing tricks on you. 

Finally you closed the album and put it back down, unsure of what feelings might resurface if you opened another one. Your honeymoon, family dinners and pictures were all just reminders of the happy times, not what came after.

James did what you didn’t want to, grabbing another album and sifting through the pages until he found what he was looking for, taking a picture out of its protective sleeve and showing it to you. 

“Can I keep this one?” he asked. 

You took it from his hands, examining it while your fingers precariously held the edges of the photograph. 

It was a silly picture, something you had taken while you were travelling. James got someone to take the camera, but along with snapping a few shots while you were posed with smiles they caught a few candids, most notably, James kissing your cheek while you laughed and tried to squirm out of his grasp. 

Your finger gently brushed over the spot on the photo where James’ lips were against your cheek before nodding your head. 

“Sure, you can have it,” you handed him back the picture and patted your hands against your legs, preparing to stand up. “I should get to bed.”

“I’ll be out here for a while longer if you need anything.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile and stood up, walking towards your bedroom. When you closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding and ran a hand across your face. 

Maybe Julian was never the one at risk of getting the wrong idea.

—

Waking up in the middle of the night always made you feel uneasy. Especially if Julian was the one waking you up. The chance that you’d have to drive to the hospital or call an ambulance was high and you hated the fear and worry that came along with any possible complications. 

Tonight, you woke up on your own accord. Your heart was beating inside your throat and your stomach felt like it was housing a group of persistent butterflies. 

You glanced over at the clock and saw the time, flashing in red. 

3:07

You took a deep breath trying to steady your heart rate and breathing before peeling away your blanket and kicking your feet over the side of the bed. You grabbed a different pair of pyjamas from your dresser and walked into the washroom, tossing them on the far end of the floor while you stripped down and turned on the water for the shower. 

When you stepped inside you hissed initially at the cold, but forced yourself to become fully submerged under the water, closing the curtain behind you. Your muscles clenched as your body adjusted to the temperature, and when the time finally came you let your thoughts and dreams become washed away by the water coming out of the shower head. 

You were simply standing there, letting the water fall on your face when you heard the click of the door opening. 

“Julian, sweetie,” you sighed, turning around so you could speak. “Maybe you should go to your dad if something’s wrong, I’ll come out in a sec.” 

“No need,” you heard a voice that did not belong to your son. 

“James? I’m in the shower. What are you doing?” you asked incredulously, feeling the need to cover yourself up even though there was a curtain blocking his view. You felt exposed nonetheless. 

“It’s three in the morning, I thought something was wrong, I came to check on you,” he explained. 

“And what were you doing up?” you asked. 

“Got in late. There was an emergency at the hospital after you guys went to sleep, I dealt with it and just came back.”

You stepped under the running water again, washing the water over your face with your hands. 

“So, is everything okay?” 

“Peachy,” you said sarcastically, leaning against the wall of the shower. 

“Nobody ever says peachy when things are okay,” James pushed further and you sighed, moving to sit down on the floor of the shower, still positioned under the water. 

“I just had a dream, that’s all,” you said, watching as the water hit your toes and the ground around you. 

“A bad dream?” he asked. 

“No, it was more like… déjà vu.”

James sighed, and rubbed his hands on his legs. 

“Was it about us?” 

He took your silence as a yes. 

James didn’t really know what to say, his hands were clasped together as he leaned  forward sitting on the bathroom counter. 

“You’re not gonna ask what it’s about?” you hugged your knees close to your chest. 

“Would you tell me?” 

“Maybe…I don’t know,” you mumbled. 

There was another moment of silence before James spoke up again, 

“What was it about?” 

You turned to face the water with your eyes closed again, gathering the courage to speak. 

“It started when I told you I was pregnant,” you said softly. “Like the memory replayed in my head, exactly how it happened.” 

“I remember that day,” you heard the soft smile in his voice as he spoke. “You took the test at work and when it came back positive you came straight to the hospital to tell me.” 

“I was barely two steps inside your office when I blurted it out, you were eating lunch and had that stupid look on your face with a mouth full of sandwich,” you chuckled to yourself.

“I almost choked on that,” James shook his head. “And I just remember running up to you and freaking out.”

“And then when you were done freaking out and everything sunk in you kissed me, and you told me you loved me, and we cried because we made a child. Our love did that.” 

You reached forward and turned the shower off, pushing yourself up on your feet and taking a deep breath before pulling back the curtain. You had told him what you were thinking. You couldn’t get any more exposed than that.

James looked stunned for a moment and it didn’t go unnoticed how his eyes raked up and down your figure. 

“Get me the robe, would you?” you motioned to the back of the door and he jumped down grabbing the robe and holding it out for you so you could place your arms into the sleeves and wrap the towelled fabric around you, trying it off with the belt. 

When you turned your head to look back at James, you could tell at least you’d succeeded in raising his heart rate, much like he was doing for you recently. 

You moved to go sit on the closed toilet while James retook his spot on the counter. 

“Do you remember when Julian was born?” he whispered. 

“I like it was yesterday. I can’t believe it’s been eight years,” you nodded your head. 

He was having trouble holding your gaze and you wondered what he was about to say. 

“I-I screwed up,” his voice was soft, almost hurt, like it pained him to think about what he had done. “When you were resting afterwards the nurse asked me if we were going to do a newborn screening. We hadn’t talked about it, but you were so tired and it was such a hard labour…” he swallowed thickly, his voice wavering slightly, remembering the birth. It wasn’t easy by any means and James had often thought that the hardest thing he’d ever had to watch was you in that much pain. “I told her we weren’t going to do it. I just didn’t want Julian to leave and h-he looked so perfect I never thought anything could have been wrong with him.” 

James took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, “I am a doctor and I didn’t get a newborn screening for my son, what the hell kind of father does that make me?” 

“Oddly enough, I think it makes you a good one,” you admitted. 

“Even though we could have known about this years before? We could have gotten him treatment, medication, therapies, all sooner?” he looked back at you confused. 

“You said it yourself, Jamie. He was perfect for us. Still is.” 

James nodded his head and looked forward at the opposite wall. You stood up and walked over towards him, reaching out a hand to gently hold his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek while he looked at you. 

“I don’t blame you for this,” you whispered. “I don’t blame you and I don’t think you’re a bad father.” 

“I know,” he murmured, “but I do.”

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, not knowing what other comfort you could offer. 

James leaned in a little to your touch, sitting up straighter when it was gone, trying to play it off like he hadn’t been missing it and craving it as much as you. 

You were about to say something when you heard a knock on the washroom door, and this time it had to be Julian. 

“Mom? Dad, are you in here too?” you could hear his small sounding voice, a little strained and worried so you quickly assured him you were both inside and opened the door. 

“Sweetheart, what happened?” you asked, noticing his tear-stained face. 

“I just had a bad dream,” he sniffed and wiped his eyes. 

You kissed away his tears first before assuring him everything would be fine, you and James were there to take care of him. 

“Why don’t you go and lay down on my bed with your Dad?” you suggested. “I’ll get dressed and come join you.” 

Julian nodded and made his way over to your bed while you went to quickly speak to James. 

“It’ll be good for you. Both of you,” you told him. 

“You don’t mind?” 

“Just this once.” 

James thanked you with a kiss to your cheek and left the adjoining washroom, closing the door behind him and giving you a minute to get changed and deal with anything you needed to before going back to bed. 

When you opened the door and came back into your room, you saw James under the covers with Julian pressed close to him, their foreheads resting together while James told him everything was going to be alright and he could go back to sleep. 

You slipped in under the covers, sandwiching Julian between you both, letting his back rest against your chest while you pressed a kiss to his hair. 

One hand was tucked under your pillow and another was draped over Julian, and your fingers carefully placed over top of James’. 

“Will you be here when I wake up?” Julian asked his dad. 

“Right next to you,” he kissed his nose. “Now try to get some sleep, okay?” 

Julian nodded his head and yawned and you whispered a quiet goodnight to bed him and his dad before letting your eyes close, silently smiling when you could feel James’ hand finally hold your own. 

—

“You guys, relax, he’s going to be fine,” Mahlet placed a hand on both yours and James’ shoulders while you spewed out your worries. “It’s one night, I have the whole list of things he needs and I’ve taken care of him before, right? It’s just at my house this time so the boys can have a sleepover and you two can have a bit of a break.” 

“She’s right,” James sighed. “I’m still worried out of my mind, but she’s right.” 

“Mahi, are you sure you don’t want us to come even for a little bit?” you asked. 

“Absolutely, if something happens I’ll call an ambulance and then you, but Julian’s been good for months now, he can survive one night away from home,” she assured you. 

“Thank you, Mahlet. I’m sure Julian and Hennock will have a great time tonight. Just call us when he’s ready to be picked up tomorrow morning,” James said. 

James wrapped his arm around you, giving you a squeeze knowing you were still uneasy about this, but deep down you knew Mahlet was right. The chances of something going wrong at this point were small and you’d had enough time since your last hospital visit to even consider doing something like this. 

“You boys ready?” James called and Julian came rushing out of the room with his bag in hand, Hennock following close behind him. 

“You have fun tonight, okay?” you bent down and gave Julian a kiss. “And if anything happens or you feel sick, or are having trouble breathing, tell Mahlet, okay?” 

“I know, Mom. Dad already told me this like fifteen times,” Julian chuckled. 

You looked up at James and he shrugged. 

“Alright, well you guys better go before I change my mind,” you crossed your arms over your chest and that was all the permission the boys needed to run off, leaving Mahlet to say goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind her. 

You sighed and turned around, looking at James who had his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“You hungry?” he asked. 

“I could eat,” you nodded your head. 

“Why don’t we make something for dinner together?” he suggested. 

You looked at the clock and smiled, “I think we’ve got enough time for pizza, what do you think?” 

“I think that’s a great plan,” James agreed. “I can start on the dough and you get the sauce and toppings?” 

You gave him a thumbs up before putting your hand out to high-five him, noticing how your fingers so easily intertwined before you walked apart and let go. 

James rolled up his sleeves and took off his watch, placing it on the small jewelry tray you kept by the sink for when you were washing dishes, while you went to the fridge and began pulling out all the things that could make good pizza toppings. 

Moving to the sink to wash some vegetables, you noticed James’ watch resting there. You didn’t pay much attention when he was wearing it, but now you realized why it looked extra familiar. It was one you had gotten him as an anniversary present after your first year married. 

“You still wear that?” you pointed with your eyes to the watch. 

“It’s my favourite watch, of course I wear it,” he nodded while portioning the flour into a large bowl.

“Even with that engraving?” you raised a questioning brow. 

“Dearest Jamie, Here’s to the first of many happy anniversaries. Love forever, Your Wife,” he recited the engraving back to you. 

“I don’t know why you do that to yourself,” you chuckled a little, looking down into the sink. 

“Yeah, well why do you still go by Mrs. Wilson?” 

“Easier to keep the name than change it again,” you partially lied, it wasn’t the full truth, but it was what you had been telling yourself ever since the divorce was finalized. 

James could sense you were lying, but he knew the only way to get you to open up would be to let himself be open with you. 

“The watch is my favourite because you gave it to me. Functionally it sucks and it's uncomfortable, but you went out of your way to get me something that looked nice and that’s why I love it.” 

You smiled a little to yourself, but kept your head facing the sink and continued to wash the vegetables. 

“You’re not going to say anything?” he inquired. 

“Do I have to?” you asked. 

“That’s normally how a conversation works,” he remarked and you chuckled. 

“What do you want me to say?” you asked. 

“Honestly, the real reason why you kept your married name,” he said plainly. 

You sighed, “It wasn’t a full lie. If I went back to my maiden name Julian and I wouldn’t have the same last name it just makes things complicated and confusing and I didn’t want to deal with it, but,” you added, “I always kind of liked the sound of Mrs. Wilson and even though I was pissed at you all the time I still liked that there was one thing aside from Julian connecting us. I don’t know, maybe I didn’t want to end up like Sam or Bonnie just…detached, like there was barely a trace that you were even there.” 

“It’s a fingerprint,” James said. “Mine.” 

“Yeah, even though it's small for who we were to each other, it's the fingerprint you left on my life.” 

James pressed his lips together and opened his mouth to say something before shutting it and evaluated how he was going to speak, 

“Can I ask you something?” he settled on. 

“Sure,” you nodded, moving over to the cutting board and placing yourself on the opposite side of the kitchen island. 

“Did…Did you ever stop loving me?” 

Your smile faltered and James noticed the change in your demeanor, quickly retracting his question. 

“You know what, forget I asked,” he shook his head and continued to knead the dough. 

There was a moment of silence before you spoke again. 

“I didn’t, but I got tired of not being loved back.” 

James stopped what he was doing and looked up at you with concern. 

“You thought I stopped loving you?” he asked.

“James, I was wife number three. Didn’t take much to connect the dots and see you got tired of me,” you said bluntly. “I wanted to know if I could count on you, and it was starting to feel like maybe I couldn’t. Then the divorce happened and everything after that just made me feel like I was right.” 

James chewed on the inside of his cheek and remained silent. 

“You didn’t fight for me,” you said quietly. “You fought for joint custody, but you didn’t fight for me. You just…accepted it.” 

“I…I didn’t know you wanted me to fight for you.” 

“Are you saying you would have?” you asked, unsure of whether or not you wanted to hear his answer. 

“I’m saying I thought I didn’t even have a chance,” he admitted. 

“So you wouldn’t have,” you clarified for him, beginning to chop the toppings into pieces and separate them into bowls. 

He chuckled humourlessly, “I have dated one person since the divorce. I hated it.” 

“Why do you have to talk in puzzles, James? Why can’t you just come out and say what you really mean?” 

“And then what?” he asked. “We go back to living in the same house. Sleep in separate rooms. Move on now that we know the truth?”

“Say it,” you put the knife down and looked him right in the eyes. 

“What are you going to do about it?” he asked, cleaning the dough off his hand. “I’m going to say it and you’re just going to stand there and I have to live with that?” 

You walked around the counter and came right up in front of him. 

“If you were listening to anything I was saying, you would stop making excuses and say it.” 

“Fine!” he threw his hands up in the air. “I still love you. I never stopped loving you. These past few months, even though stressful, have been the happiest I’ve been in so long because I feel like myself again when I’m with you and Julian. Because I feel like your husband, and I feel like a father and I keep kicking myself wondering how I could have been so stupid to lose that.” 

“Say it one more time,” you whispered, lifting your hands to hold onto his face. “Please.” 

“I love you,” his voice was softer, relieved like after being underwater he could finally breathe again. 

You finally pulled him into you, your lips hesitantly resting on his at first, before you found your rhythm again after so long. It was muscle memory, his hands finding the spot they always rested against on your hips, his lips moving in synch with yours, eventually trailing off and finding their favourite spot against your jaw and behind your ear. 

“James,” you breathed. 

“Jamie,” he mumbled against your skin. “Call me Jamie.” 

“Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” you repeated the nickname until he silenced you with another kiss, muffling your voice. 

“God, I missed you,” he whispered when you pulled apart, breathing heavily due to your fast beating heart. 

You closed your eyes while your forehead rested against his, feeling his nose touch yours, his hands still firmly planted on your hips when your thumbs brushed against his cheeks. 

“Jamie?” 

James snuck another small kiss at the sound of the nickname. 

“Yes, my love.” 

“Can I count on you?” 

You could feel him nod his head and confirm with a verbal ‘yes’. And even if it turned out to be a lie, at that moment you didn’t care. He had proved to you that it was possible, you could work with that. 

“I love you,” you said and kissed his nose and then you said it and kissed him again for good measure. “You told me twice; I tell you twice.” 

James moved his hands up from your hips and brushed the back of his fingers against your cheek, a warm smile coming to his face. 

And there was that look, the one you thought had vanished over time. His eyes fully transfixed on you with nothing but love and admiration. It didn’t take much to convince yourself you could get used to seeing that look for a long, long time. 

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter

#james wilson #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #dr wilson #dr wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #house md #house md fanfiction #house md x reader #hate crimes md #james wilson fanfiction #james wilson fanfic #james wilson fic

[call-sign-shark]

Following the heart-wrenching posts of @red-riding-wood, @kittenonpluto and @aurorag98 I feel like I have to write this. By no means I have experienced traumatizing interactions with @mrkdvidal1989 aka Killian Vidal but this whole situation and what he did to girls here make me enraged.

First of all, I want to reassure all the beloved mutuals who have been reaching out to me or who have been worried about my well-being because they saw me interacting a few times with Killian. I am perfectly fine and I'm not much here this week because I have been working a lot.

As for my relationship with Killian... Well, we were barely talking to each other actually. I know I am bad at replying to my DMs but this is not the reason why I ghosted him -- I purposefully did so because, like many of you, the guy gave me the biggest red flags. We talked a few times, and he called me hot when he saw the gym pics/selfies I posted. He quickly suggested we meet together to go to the gym and watch horror movies during my stay in the UK and to this I replied positively while knowing I would never ever do so. Right from the start I suspected him to be a liar and I felt he had built up everything about his life. Also, I come from a military family with many relatives working in special units of the French Navy, and let me tell you something: I screamed at the thought of a former soldier (from the SAS!! lmao) spending all of his time writing reader-insert fanfic for a female audience and discussing with Cillian fangirls. I don't say it's impossible, but it's VERY unlikely.

To me, Killian was just an attention-seeking catfish I'd never meet and who I found both boring and childish. In my opinion, I thought he just wanted to have a small court around him to strut around, nothing more. I tried to search for info about him to warn people, I mean I even doubted he was a man... However, I found nothing plus he seemed to be IRL friends with a few mutuals here who actually chatted with him via phone so I didn't want to take the risk of spreading hate about someone just because of a gut feeling. Never in a million years, I would have imagined he was toying with girls from the Peaky Blinders community, collecting nudes, gaslighting/harassing them, breaking them into pieces, promising marriage, and going as far as to promise a life-saving medical treatment to a dear friend of mine. I am devastated by what I have read this morning, and "devasted" is not even powerful enough. Learning from Red that he talked about fucking me when we meet while we never talk about sex, never flirted or anything (we just small-talked once in a while lmao) might be a bit creepy but it's nothing compared to what he has done to girls here.

I am deeply sorry to all the people who have been hurt by his horrible actions and are now facing long-term consequences because of him, some of them being my close mutuals. I send positive vibes, love, and healing to every one of you who had to deal with this psycho. I know a lot of people have already said that but my DMs are opened if you need a safe place. The Peaky Blinders / Cillian Murphy community is a nice place, maybe the most welcoming place I've ever seen on the Internet but we should all keep in mind that it is not safe from ill-intentioned users and predators. Please stay safe and, for the victims, don't blame yourself. You haven't been naive nor stupid or anything. The only one to blame is the person behind Killian Vidal's persona, and for the evil you've done, I hope you'll get fucked with a chainsaw. Or just fucking rot in hell.

Shark.

#PSA #predator warning #Cillian Murphy #Peaky Blinders #Mrkvidal1989

[bright-and-burning]

No bc I love women and football tell me all the gossip with mccabe and foord and the ex (who is she) ☕️

alright this is going to be long im sorry but get me started on woso and i just blabber. uhh most of my sources cited but this is mostly me going back thru texts from during the world cup and grabbing facts/pictures from then so a few of these claims are a little

BUT i promise i didnt make this up LOL i was Deep in google for the entirety of the world cup so i Know i got my info from somewhere

everything else under the cut bc this got SO long im actually so sorry

there's three primary people involved here:

katie mccabe: left back (but honestly left everything wonder woman). captains the irish national team. plays for WSL's arsenal, has been since 2015 (minus a lil bit loaned to glasgow in 2017). those are the two important facts here really but the below is ~flavor~.

she's 28 and 5'5 and she's a DREAM. scored an olimpico at the world cup (FIRST IN WOMENS WORLD CUP HISTORY!!!!) (THATS WHERE YOU SCORE A GOAL DIRECTLY FROM A CORNER. FIRST ONE SINCE THE 60S IN A WORLD CUP IN GENERAL!! LITERALLY INSANITY!!!)

also for context this world cup was ireland's wnt's first ever major tournament appearance. she's the first ever irish goal-scorer (of men and women!). she's amazing. here's her for arsenal:

ruesha littlejohn: striker/midfielder. scottish-irish, but represents ireland at the senior level. 33 years old. has played for a lot of teams club-wise. currently plays for london city lionesses, a second tier team, but that wasnt announced til after the world cup. her most recent wsl team was aston villa (but i mean it, she's played like everywhere lol). 5'6 if you're curious.

here's her in ireland's kit:

caitlin foord: forward! plays for australia internationally, and arsenal (so teammates with katie. this is important.) she's played for arsenal since 2020! used to play for the thorns in the nwsl once upon a time. 5'7, if, again, you're curious. she used to date a swiss footballer (lia walti, who's played for arsenal since 2018) but they broke up like six months before the world cup. walti unfollows the australian team on instragram right after they post a video of foord, it's all very dramatic (THEYRE STILL TEAMMATES AT ARSENAL THIS WHOLE TIME BTW). arsenal man, always at the scene of the crime.

ok so now you've met our main players!!

world cup happened this past summer (2023), btw. to give you an idea of timing.

katie mccabe and ruesha littlejohn dated for 6-7 years (some articles say 6, some say 7). they came out in june 2019 and said they'd been dating for three years already. their breakup was confirmed right before the world cup (like THE SAME WEEK??), in an article where mccabe was like "yeah, ruesha, my partner at the time..." very casual.

and then. in JUNE. (world cup starts july 20th!!)

foord and mccabe go to ibiza w an ex-arsenal player (jordan nobbs). who (in june 2023, not anymore) played at aston villa with. you guessed it. littlejohn. so yeah your ex gf goes on a trip to ibiza w a new girl and your current teammate, you might be a lil pissed off. maybe.

the sun's (i know, BOOOO but this made me laugh so hard) caption on a pic from the trip had me cackling:

(the title of the article was "inside the glam lifestyle of pals caitlin foord and katie mccabe after ireland’s star’s ex snubs world cup handshake." borderline galpals commentary like have writers there never heard of regular synonyms for friends?? there was also a line that just screamed please don't sue us: "However, The Sun does not suggest the Aussie forward had anything to do with McCabe and Littlejohn's break-up.")

so now we've got two exes on the irish national team going into their first world cup appearance, the captain of the swiss national team and an australian player having broken up like six months ago, and much more, but that isn't directly related to This Specifically.

while you, anon, presumably know how the world cup works, ill give a mini explainer for anyone lost: there's the group stage, where the teams get divided into groups (in this case, of four), and your team plays every other team in the group. you get three points for winning a game, one for a draw, and none for a loss. those points add up and top two teams move on. and then you go into the knockout stage, where you have to win to advance, and if you keep winning you make it to the final yay!!

but for this we only care about the group stage. and more specifically, about group B.

group B is made up of nigeria, canada, australia, and (drumroll please) ireland!!! it is the stuff reality tv shows WISH they could make happen.

ireland and australia play. it is (almost*) the very first game of the tournament (but it's still on july 20th). it is at 5am my time. you would not believe the timezone fuckery i went through that month.

(*ok new zealand played norway starting a bit earlier on the same day but that's not as dramatic sounding)

and you know how they shake hands with the other team before a game? yeah well here's littlejohn apparently refusing to shake foord's hand:

here's a lovely photo of a Look from littlejohn to mccabe:

here's a diff irish player (sullivan) separating littlejohn and foord after the game (australia wins 1-0, btw.):

and i already shared this on @powerful-owl's post BUT. here's mccabe's little sister, supporting mccabe. please note the date (july 20th) and the comment from foord (from after the game, im like 99.99% sure) asking if she wants her jersey now. me personally if i just beat my totally platonic friend/teammate on the world's stage i wouldnt be pulling up in their sister's comments asking if she wants a jersey now (also implication of the word now as in previously discussed, etc etc. this was the thing that pushed me over the edge into insanity at like 9am after no sleep)

i admittedly have not kept up to date on anything that's gone down since the world cup so it's entirely possible more has happened! in fact i would say that it is downright likely lol. i love soccer lesbians n the insane charts necessary to keep track of their relationships <3

#me? insane? #um. im so sorry guys daksjfdk i dont know what came over me #this took longer than i expected to track down all the stuff i wanted to include. here's the tea anon! #and also i may very well be wrong abt things. tbf this is from memory and i also dont follow WSL very closely #much less the TEA. but this was fascinating to watch play out live lol #anon ask #eve talks soccer

[goblinbugthing]

Bugthing’s brand-new Pinned Intro Post!!!!!!

Hi! I’m Bug, I’m a mentally ill emo artist and fic author. This is where I put my nonsense for you internet ppl to look at.

I’m transmasc, currently identifying as xenogender, and I use he/xey/it/they pronouns. I’m omniromantic, uranic, fictoromantic, and fictosexual. Please respect that!!

Currently, I’m into Hollow Knight, the Kirby series, A Hat in Time, Bug Fables, Cult of the Lamb, Rain World, and Fate/Zero. Do be warned, though, I can fall out of these fandoms at any time — my interests are almost always fluctuating.

This blog is safe for minorities! (e.g. disabled ppl, LGBTQ+ ppl, BIPOC, Palestinians, etc.)

I am a minor. Don’t be weird.

Other stuff under the cut!

(divider gif via @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

My asks are open! Feel free to ask me stuff about my hyperfixations, or whatever you wanna know about me, as long as it’s not too personal.

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@hollowknightinsanity — My HK sideblog.

@kokothedrag0n — My RP blog, where I act as my sona.

Current works:

Kirby: Soul Journey — My Kirby AU fanfiction, taking place after Kirby and the Forgotten Land. (Read on Tumblr / Read on Wattpad / Read on AO3) (To be rewritten)

Kirby: Soul Journey oneshots collection — A set of oneshots created for K:SJ. (Read on Tumblr / Read on Wattpad / Read on AO3) (To be rewritten)

Hollow Knight: Empty Promises — A set of fics created for my base Hollow Knight AU, Empty Promises. (Read on AO3 / Wattpad link to be added)

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I tag triggers with #cw (trigger).

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If I make any new tags (or remember any ones I forgot), this section will be updated!

Also, please keep in mind that tumblr is a bit fucky and sometimes doesn’t show posts under tags for some reason! Some posts might have my old tags on them.

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If any of these fit you, do not interact with my blog.

Pro//shippers

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TERFs

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D//anganronpa-specific blogs (Very sorry — this is just a big trigger for me.)

People who support Israel’s genocide of Palestinians (Stay FAR away from me.)

People who ship The Knight/Ghost and the Grimmchild (I mean, you do you, but I don’t wanna. See that. Feels weird.)

A//I “art” supporters (this includes A//I generated anything. Text, music, images, ANYTHING. Go away.)

H//azbin fans (😐)

And I believe that’s it! Enjoy your time here :)

#text #intro post #pinned post #buggie’s rambles #FINALLY. FUCKING FINALLY I REMAKE MY OLD ASS PINNED. FUCK #i spent like an hour making this hhhhgggggggghghghggghhgghghghhgghg

[liz-allyn]

📸📸📸

CELEBRATE WITH ME!

Thank you so much, @utterly-in-like! I can’t wait to dive into your fics soon— I’m on my tasm!peter kick but I saw that you write Tony Stark, and Psych (your xover with white collar)??? Man it’s been a hot minute since I read any Psychfic.

Fun fact that’s one of the fandoms I used to write the most for back in the day. The fic I’m most proud of from that era was an insane Final Destination-themed crossover fic feat Shawn Spencer, Johnny Smith from The Dead Zone, Adrian Monk from Monk, and Xander Harris from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Yeah, it was a whole thing.

BUT enough about that - you ordered a pic of Andrew Garfield and I present to you, a GIF

This one is special. See, this one is yoga instructor!Peter Parker.

tw health/body issues, post COVID illness, sexy innuendo under the cut

You really hate your sister for this, despite her good intentions.

Instead of being a sympathetic ear to your complaints about your ping-ponging energy and your slow cardio recovery post-COVID, she went and actually tried to help you. Goddamn it—all she had to do was sit there and listen to you be miserable, with the occasional wheeze and cough as you try to do something physically taxing. Like taking out the trash. Or standing up too fast.

But no. Instead, she bought you one of those gift certificates for a package of weekly yoga classes. 12 weeks seems extravagant, and you told her so with a sour, sarcastic, “Oh. You shouldn’t have.” But then you realized it was a biweekly vinyasa in the middle of Central Park at the magic hour of 5:00am.

What a bitch.

“We can go together!” she said. “We’ll make it a thing!”

The “thing” was you showing up in the middle of a dewy field at the ass crack of dawn to greet 6 other strangers—your sister nowhere to be found—as she cancelled her membership the night before and neglected to tell you.

What a bitch.

You hate running. You have no time to go to a gym. And you haven’t ridden a bike since you were 9. But here you are, rolling out the cheapest mat you can find and an old bath towel, next to an array of all walks of life and all number of age.

Great. You’re going to wheeze with your jiggly ass in the air next to a 67-year-old Herculean, bald guy who brought nothing but too-short shorts, a beat up Neoprene bottle, and his own sweat to his practice.

You rolled your eyes, and that’s when you saw him.

The Adonis. The face of an angel. The sculpted build of a Michelangelo. This was way worse. It’s one thing to embarrass yourself in front of random strangers, but another thing to embarrass yourself in front of the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

He wore a tight black tank and board shorts (fuck, was he also a surfer?) as he greeted the class, biceps bulging from the mat tucked underneath his arm.

“Morning! How’s everyone doing?” he smiled brightly.

With devastatingly dark eyes and a saccharine sweetness to his expression, his gaze landed on you and you felt your face heat up. It’s mid-50s temperature in New York this morning, and you didn’t dress warm enough, but suddenly you’re on fire and have the urge to take off more clothes.

The slightest twinkle sparked in his eyes as they landed on you. He bit his lip, taking you in. (Fuck, did he really just do that? Is there something on my face? Do I have a tit showing?)

“Are you my new student?” he grinned, something seductive and—excited?—trapped in his throat.

Your mouth was dry, nodding in a fugue state.

Student? Like he’s the teacher? You’re going to need to bring an apple to him next time. Why is your crotch already sweating?

“My name’s Peter, it’s good to have you join us,” he says, his deep voice pouring over you like honey.

Why is he staring at you like that?

“Today’s a great day to start, we’re going to take each position very slow,” he added.

Is he serious right now?

“Just try to relax,” he says with a smirk. “I’ll take good care of you.”

You’re breathing heavy again, you notice.

And Peter keeps his promise, guiding the class through gentle stretches and poses. You keep your eyes glued to his form. For science.

Muscles flexing and a light sheen sweat forming on his face.

His eyes find you more than anyone else in the group. He starts traveling through the group when he’s convinced they’ve got the sequence down. He’s a great teacher.

At some point, midway through your 3rd downward dog, you notice that he’s glided to your side. You hadn’t even seen him coming, your eyes fixed on the blades of grass in front of your face, when you feel two large hands gently press around your pelvic crest.

Your heart stutters the second he touches you, and the butterflies in your stomach carry the wind from your lungs.

“Just like this,” Peter whispers, only loud enough for you to hear, as he guides your hips back into a more pointed position. “You’re doing so well.” You notice him line up your hips with his, and you swear he could lift you up by your pelvis with just the strength of his fingers.

You love downward dog. You love anything with dogs. Doggy style, all the way. Every time.

And with his help, goddamn it, the stretch is satisfying. You feel your spine start to decompress. Air fills your lungs in short measured breaths. His hands remain on you, encompassing your hips and the small of your back, pulling you into a delicious pose.

“Right there. Does that feel good?” he coos.

This mother Hubbard.

You moan. And then clear your throat. “Yeah,” you cough, trying to recover.

You can’t see his face but you can feel the body heat reverberating from him. And you can hear that cocky grin in his voice as he whispers back. “Good girl.”

Somehow, you survived. It was at the end of the class, when everyone else bolted and you were struggling to roll up your mat and ignore just how SWEATY your crotch was, when Peter kneeled down in front of you to help you. You gaped at his long fingers, curling the rubber into a neat cylinder.

“So how was it? I hope we didn’t go too hard on you.” His voice was like warm syrup. His eyes were dark chocolate pools. His lips looked like sugar-coated cherries.

He was bad for your health, without a doubt.

“No, um, it-it was g-good,” you shyly replied. “I’m just a little rusty.”

“Well, we can work on that,” he gazed at you with a lazy half smile. It was clear he found your timidness amusing. Appetizing, even. “See you next week?”

“Yes,” you blurted out, without hesitation. “Thank you. Thank you, Master.”

Your eyes went wide, locked on his. The word drifted into the atmosphere, a balloon swept away, never to return. He quirked a brow upward.

Your face turned crimson. “Teacher,” you stuttered “Teach— Guru? I… I don’t know why I said that.”

He licked his lips as he stared at yours, unabashed and unafraid.

“We can work on that, too.”

CELEBRATE WITH ME!

Thank you for supporting fandom writers with a reblog and/or comment!

#lizzy’s 600. #Lizzy’s 600 celebration. #Lizzy writes! #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker imagines #Peter Parker blurb #Peter Parker Drabble #Peter Parker #tasm peter Parker #tasm!peter au #the amazing spiderman x reader #the amazing Spider-Man #the amazing spiderman #the amazing spiderman fluff #tasm imagine #tasm spiderman #andrew garfield spiderman #Andrew Garfield #andrew garfield x reader #Andrew Garfield x you #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker x you

[justasub01]

okay... after my last post since a certain someone challenged me to tell more about the "wet dream" I had... (which I'm a lil embarrassed to say 😅) so um ill type it out as much as I remember...

i remember in that "wet dream" i was in some kinda shopping mall or something and i remember being... excessively excited for some reason. The idea of getting caught in public excited so much I snuck into a male washroom and quickly locked myself in one of those stall thingys. I sat down unzipped myself, I was going commando (like I am usually) and FOR SOME STUPID REASON... the Idea of getting caught got me so excited, I left the stall door unlocked.

I started rubbing... leaned backand legs spread open... moaning a lil loudly maybe (like I usually do)... only to be startled by some camera flash of someone taking a pic of me like that.

It was someone (Idk a guy or a girl... possibly a guy since the male washroom... duh) who managed to open the door since I lost the track of time and threatens me with the pic and video and going to the the security... I get so nervous I beg to not do this and promise I'll do whatever wanted even money...

In return they ask me to follow them if I dont want trouble... mm which I do and end up in the back of their van. The door closes, my hands get tied behind my back with my mouth gagged. My eyes are left open since they want me to see they are doing to me. I get pushed on the floor of the van, where they tore my pants off completely, calling me things like "a slut" or "a whore" and they start their... torture

mmm my butt cheeks get spread open by their rough hands while i could do is whine... then they put this weird thingy inside me that stretches my butt hole open and they spit on it (im getting excited from this 😭)

they stretch my hole open, more than ever before... and put things inside me... mm maybe a cock or a strap on or maybe a couple of markers tied together, twist them left and right once they are in me... mmm almost exploring my insides... all while my cock's raging hard and my face down on the floor

then they left me plugged, while moving towards my cock... starting to stroke ever so slowly, pulling my foreskin back... exposing my tip... god im actually VERY sensitive in real life i remember them rubbing my tip almost roughly... the pleasure gets too much and it becomes almost painful.

then when im right about to cum from this 'violatíon' of my body... they stop... and reach out for something for the tip of my cock...

its something to insert inside my urethra... something im REALLY scared of in real life. They grab my cock... pulling back my foreskin exposing my tip and putting some outrageous amount of lube on it and slowly but surely start pushing a sounding rod down my urethra... inside my cock.

I look up in absolute horror, watching a thick metal sounding rod slowly going down... inside my cock and i try scream and moan in pain and pleasure and THIS... is the story and I woke up

That made me wake up in the middle of the night... me finding my shorts wet with my precum... mmm and I ended up riding my pillow and cumming inside my shorts.

happy? 😭

#confession #bd/sm kink #bd/sm pet #me #edging and denial

[dogwittaablog]

I don't envy Nolan. Man's been through it since the start.

Like being born in Winnipeg, middle child and only son in a hockey family. Like so many other sons he was pretty much groomed from the beginning to be the perfect hockey player, promised he would be something great.

Finally breaking out only for injuries to hit. Finding out a surgery he had wasn't necessary and may have been detrimental would have been a massive blow.

Being a naturally withdrawn person close to only friends then being thrust into the spotlight as second overall pick. Immediately having that much pressure on him when he was still barely an adult knowing that if he doesn't immediately prove that he deserves to be in the NHL he will be torn apart.

Hoping maybe that since many players can still maintain a semi private life he can too. But the fangirls get their hands on him. Suddenly every move he makes is monitored. Everything he's posted, commented or liked is on blast. His friends have to delete pics of him or go private for their own safety.

More and more injuries stack up and the media isn't giving him a break. Everytime he comes back it's constant questions about his illness and pain. The internet isn't much better with every hockey bro and their friend attacking him from every angle they can get.

People spread rumors about him incredibly, disgusting and sexual ones and contact his family asking about if they're true or not.

Having to sit a year out knowing he has a chronic condition that will never get better.

Finally coming back for the pandemic to hit then he gets traded. Maybe a new start away from the bs, but it still follows.

Having to hear constantly that he was a bust and that the flyers fucked up by picking him. Even people he worked with on the team saying they regret ever taking him. He put on a brave face, but after awhile that feels like death by a thousand cuts.

Finally being able to get back on the ice again only for a dirty hit to end it all again.

Having to sit out while his team wins the cup. Watching all his friends and teammates live successful lives on and off the ice, while he stays at home wondering what could have been.

Finally thinking after a year of being gone people forgot and maybe he can start anew again. Only for one word on a post to thrust him back into the spotlight with reporters and fan practically beating down him and his family's doors.

I don't know if I believe in a god, or if that god has favourites, but I know Nolan isn't one of them.

OH-

#THIS HURT #ESPECIALLY THAT LAST LINE #OH #OOOPPPPP #I DONT EVEN THINK NO ONE CAN DISAGREE #ONE BIT HERE #NOLPAT #NOLAN PATRICK #RIP KING #AHHHH #THE DOOMED NARRATIVE #ASK #dec '23 subs

[armpirate]

UNDER HIS SKIN || JJK || Ch. 20

Pairings: tattoist!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, friends to lovers, tattoo au, virgin reader.

Summary: They say there are two versions for every story, and it's important to hear both of them. Everybody is hearing your side of the story, but it's just fair to get to know his.

After breaking up with his girlfriend, the only thing he wanted was to have fun with no attachment. You wanted to get rid of your virginity, and he wanted to tick you off his list. What he didn't expect was getting so emotionally attached to you that he would regret the deal.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Me: are u home?

Me: if ur mad for today... i promise ill make it up.

I tried to get in contact with Y/n ever since I crossed the door to the street. I've been waiting for a reply from her for almost an hour, making my way back to the tattoo studio just so I can pick my motorbike and get it back.

And once I get there, I don't leave to go back home. I just close myself inside my studio, still waiting for a text from her. And considering she was off today, I end up guessing she's probably outside.

Me: Are you out with the girls?

For one second, I wonder if she's mad because I canceled our plans at the last minute, something that leads me to check my sister's stories to find Y/n sneaking out of the picture on every single pic or video Soo has decided to post.

Few minutes later, I see Y/n has read my text, but minutes keep going by and she doesn't reply back.

Yeah, she's mad.

And that's something that leads me to send a text to Soo, just to find out she's already sent me three texts throughout the evening, and tried to call me once. Although it's weird, I don't really pay much attention to it.

—Leslie? —I hear her voice from the other side— Really?

I'll kill Mark tomorrow.

—That's what all those texts were about? —I roll my eyes.

—I thought you moved on —I hear her sighing—. What about this new girl? You can't be so fucking stupid, Jungkook.

Now it's when I regret ever mentioning I was seeing someone new, although she was the one that kept insisting when she caught me smiling at my phone at one of our family lunches. She doesn't waste the chance to bring this new girl back, but tonight is different. Soo usually just teases me, and tries to play with me ever since I told her. "Oh, Mrs. Jeon wants your attention" "When will we meet her?". But tonight... Tonight I can tell she's annoyed at the possibility of me ruining whatever I possibly have with Y/n for my ex.

As she speaks, I can hear different voices and laughs, and the unknown rhythm of a song playing in the background.

—Where are you? I can barely hear you.

—The bar where Tam and Y/n work, we all came here to keep Tam some company —she sighs—. Don't switch the topic, Jeon. I swear to god if you do the same mist...

But I'm not able to hear anything else from her before I hang up the call. I know I'm going to regret that the moment I see her again, but for now I want to focus on something else, which is another awful idea.

When I park the motorbike outside the bar, all I can think about is seeing Y/n and making sure everything is alright. But before I cross the door, I wonder if it'd be too obvious why I'm here for the second I set a foot inside. There's also the possibility of them thinking I came to talk to Soo in person even if that isn't the case.

The inner battle stops the second I spot Y/n talking with someone at one extreme of the counter. Her body is lazily supported on the wooden surface, while her hips are slightly swayed and her head cockily tilted. The man is tall enough for me to be able to see his face over her shoulder. A cocky smile is drawn on his face, while his eyes travel all over her body, having her face as the last stop.

Something turns on in my body, because I'm walking inside the bar and towards Y/n as if I weren't debating seconds ago whether to stay outside or not.

Suddenly I don't care whether her friends and my sister are here or not. I just want to keep her away.

—Well, I saw you here by yourself, and thought of keeping you company. That's it —I see him shrugging—. But if you want to give me your phone number...

—Alr... —she's about to agree, but I stop before she's able to.

—I could give you mine, too —I rush to say, looking at the stranger with squinted eyes. —. Note it down: six, seven, three... What? Not interested?

I realize how much I fucked it up just now when she turns to me with wide eyes, surprise by my attitude. Or maybe just surprised to see me here.

—I'm sorry —the man apologizes, uncomfortable—. I didn't know she had a boyfriend.

—I don't —I hear her saying.

How fast she denies me annoys me more than it should, which is zero -considering the kind of relationship we both have supposedly.

—What the fuck are you doing? —she turns to me.

I never look back at her, because I will be aware of everything I'm doing and how I'm not the one in the right in this situation. Instead, I keep my eyes on the man who nervously smiles, saying goodbye to Y/n before he finally leaves.

—What's your problem?

—He was drooling over you.

And now I'm confused on whether I was mad because of the way he was looking at her, or how she was unbothered -and even liked- the way he was looking at her.

—I thought that was the fucking point —she stands in front of me, her whole body facing me as she speaks—. I don't think I went where you were, threw a tantrum and scared your e...

I look at her, confused at that. Does that mean she knows? And although it'd make a lot of sense, I doubt my sister would be airing my business like that. It's Soo either way, so it wouldn't shock me big time either.

—Jungkook?

Tammy's voice snaps me back to reality and what I'm doing. I shouldn't even be here in the first place.

—Soo wanted to see you —she comments when I turn to her.

—I know —I nod—. I thought she was still here —a big fat lie falls from my lips.

Basically, because my sister was the last person I thought of as I drove here.

—No, I think she went to your place —Tammy lets her head fall to her side as she thinks—. That's what she said, right? —she asks Y/n, looking for confirmation.

—Yeah —she sighs—. And since you're back, I'll get going now.

—Thanks for staying —they both hug tight.

A flicker of desperation goes over my body when I see her figure walking past me. Not only I have to explain myself with the whole Leslie situation, now I also have to make up for what happened with the man she was flirting with.

—I'll drive you home —I suggest, making her stop her tracks towards the door.

—No need to.

I'm about to insist, but Tammy does that work for me.

—Don't act pig headed —she intervenes—. I'll feel better if you leave with him.

With a heavy sigh, and her head falling back, she let us know she was giving in to what we both were asking. Tammy thanks me for driving Y/n home... If she only knew I'm the one who should be thankful to her right now.

When we get to my motorbike, I see her waiting at one side. She joins me in the back as soon as I hop on it, with the difference that she's sat further than she usually is. And when my eyes fly over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of her, I see her arms placed back on both sides of her body, holding tight to the bars.

Things seem to get even more tense when I stop in front of her place, and for some reason I have the slightest hope that we could make it up.

—I think we should talk —I mention when I stop the engine, turning my head at her.

—Is this because you don't want to confront Soo?

I didn't even remember Soo is probably at my place until she mentioned it again. That just adds another reason why I should stay here tonight.

—Just... Let's talk.

She puckers her lips, slightly tilting her head until she finally gives in with a small nod of her head.

Our way to her apartment is the quietest we've ever been since we started growing closer. It's uncomfortable, but especially concerning because it just proves that there's something wrong going on right now.

Unable to act the way I usually do -because it's not the time-, I just stick my hands inside of my pockets. My eyes fly to every corner in the room, to every small detail I've seen a thousand times before, combined with other new ones that kind of let me know

Jungkook seems to be thinking a million things right now, but doesn't say a word. He's usually carefree, and walks around as if he has been here even more times than me. But this time he's staying still, both hands in the pockets of his usual baggy jeans, while looking absolutely everywhere but in my direction.

—You said you wanted to talk —I break the silence—. Then talk.

Her tone is rough and dry. She wants to be done with this conversation just as much as I do. She crosses her arms over her chest, while her lower back rests on the backrest of her beige couch.

I don't know if she's mad for what happened back in the bar or if she's mad because Soo told them I met with Leslie... This isn't a good start.

—Why were you so annoyed before?

—You can't be serious... —she replies under her breath—So how you scared that guy away isn't enough for you?

So I guess she's mad for the way I treated the guy... Okay, reasonable. I was a little too rude with him, when his reaction was the exact same one I had the first time I saw her. It's completely understandable.

—Was I supposed to only hang out with the girls and wait for you to be done? —she tilts her head again— He was nice and I wanted to have fun. And it was all going great until you showed up with the jealous boyfriend act. Is that enough? Am I allowed to be annoyed?

And that glitches my brain, and pulls back whatever I thought was the main issue. So she's mad because I showed up and ruined her flirty moment?

—Just talk to me —a sudden push moves my body, forcing my eyes back on her.

—Do you want me to apologize? —I arch my eyebrows— I only did you a favor.

—No, you didn't —she doesn't let me continue—. I wasn't uncomfortable, I wasn't struggling... For the first time in my life I was comfortable with someone that's...

I wait for her to continue that sentence, and she doesn't know the amount of fuel she's just added.

—That's not an asshole.

I move my eyes away from her, annoyed at the situation, but especially annoyed at myself. All the time I was with Leslie, I kept thinking of rushing it and cutting it off so I could be with her -even if it was later than our main plan. While all she was mad for was me ruining her possible future date.

—Wow, thank you —I say ironically.

—Don't have the balls to play the victim —Y/n points her finger at me, each word tinted with more anger than the previous one—. Don't dare. You stood me up. Yet you think you have the right to come and interrupt me when I try to meet someone new? Which is also the point of us being in... whatever we have going on?

—I didn't like the way he was looking at you —I look back at her—. I know what was going through his head, and I didn't like it.

More like I didn't like what was possibly going through her head as well... But it's better not to say that.

—You know what I don't like? Learning through your sister you were meeting up with your ex, instead of you telling me directly when you canceled our plans.

In any other circumstance, or maybe five minutes ago, I'd have dropped a cocky smile and would have played it off so we could make it up. But that comment, in this exact moment, only annoys me. Why would she fucking care about who I'm meeting?

—Were you annoyed because I met Leslie or because I didn't tell you? —the question leaves my smiling adorned lips with a tone that comes up as funny, when I only wanted to make it sound cocky to piss her off.

—What annoys me is how you think you can do whatever the fuck you want, yet I can't do the same just "because you didn't like the way he was looking at me" —she mocks me—. I think it's simple to understand.

Aware that this conversation will take us nowhere, I try to put a stop to it. One of us has to bend and apologize, and seems like this time it'll be my turn. Not telling her about Leslie was a mistake on my side, but it wasn't like she needed to know either. We aren't dating and, as long as I don't hook up with any of the girls I could possibly meet, she has no reason to get mad.

—You're right. I'm sorry —I nod—. l don't know —I scratch the back of my head nervously—. I didn't think before acting. I couldn't control myself.

And while I thought she'd be softer, and would play along to my apology, she goes on with the argument.

—You couldn't control yourself? You were the one who came up with the no jealousy rule, yet you excuse yourself with it?

A little ironic she's annoyed about the jealousy rule, when she was pissed off about me meeting Leslie.

—Don't act like you weren't jealous either —I bark back—. Why do you care so much whether I saw Leslie or not? Feel threatened?

I facepalm myself when the heat of the discussion gets over my body, and rolls my tongue more than it should. That last question is the dumbest thing I've ever said.

—Sure, threatened —although she's ready to throw a lot of things, she still tries to hold back as much as possible—. All I know is this deal has been useless, and you've been nothing but a pain in the ass. "I'll help you out" "You'll know how to deal with guys" —her voice deepens, trying to mimic mine—. Yet the only thing you've told me to do is watching people and doing research work.

—It seemed like the little help was of use for you tonight though.

Quite funny how she's now saying she regrets the deal, or how it's being useless, when not even a few weeks ago she was able to flirt with someone openly. Now that she's able to, she isn't able to credit me for what I've helped in?

—Might be the only thing that has been of use —she replies back—, but what's the point when I can't put it into practice because your ego gets hurt? —she shakes her head— This was a bad idea.

I feel hurt by her words. It's such a dumb and simple sentence, yet the feeling that gets over me when she says all of it was a bad idea... it's as if all the time we've spent together had meant nothing to her. She's the one that's getting the biggest piece of cake, yet she's the one who dares to say she regrets what's happened. Is it a bad idea now that she's realized she could have anyone else she wants to?

—It wasn't a bad idea when you were cumming on my leg to seal the deal, because I was the only one you had a chance with.

There isn't any anger in her expression anymore. Her lips seal slowly, forming a straight line, while the frown totally disappears when she moves her eyes away from me to look down at her feet.

She bites her lower lip tight, while her hands, hanging on both sides of her body, hold tight the fabric of her jeans.

And that's when I know how big I fucked it up right now.

Thinking this was just a heated discussion, I try to hold her arm to pull her into a hug, but she rejects it. Her hands push me away suddenly, still not looking up at me when she does.

I try to look for the right words to make it up, to let her know I didn't genuinely mean what I said, but that roller coaster of emotions has left me exhausted, and unable to process any information that isn't what I have in front of me right now.

—You can stay here the night —she talks first—, you probably don't want to deal with Soo. But I don't want to see you here when I wake up tomorrow.

She doesn't say anything else. After dropping that, she turns on her tracks and walks to her room, closing the door behind her.

After that, I have no reason to stay here. I know I have no reason to say here tonight.

And if I thought I'd find peace when I got back home, I was so mistaken...

Soo is waiting for me in front of my door, totally ready to drag me for everything that happened today, but I cut her off before she's able to speak.

—Not today —I cut her off, making my way inside my apartment.

—Not today? —she scoffs— Do I wait until she messes you up again, huh? What the hell were you even thinking about?

—She needed to see that everything was officially over between us —I let my body fall on the couch—. I just wanted to end things well.

—So... —she sits next to me— She didn't want to get back with you?

—Oh, she does —I nod, with my eyes still fixed on one of the dark wooden beams on the ceiling—. But I'm not interested. And I let her know.

Soo seems surprised at my comment, and so she shows it when she snaps my shoulder to get me to look at her.

—You seriously told her that?

—Yeah —I sigh.

—I'm proud of you —her arm surrounds my neck—. You deserve better than to be treated that way —her fingers tangle on some of my locks playfully—. Hopefully this new girl does.

But I don't tell her anything. It's not something she needs to know anyway. I rather let her think everything's fine. Basically, because I don't want to go too deep on whatever went down tonight, I don't want to go through everything we've both said again and again. It was enough just once.

We keep talking for a few more minutes, getting into more detail on what the conversation was about. And when I realize, she's almost falling asleep as I speak. With a chuckle, I take her to my bed and allow her to sleep there.

Another morning to wake up with a messy back. 

#fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #tattoistjk #tattooau #jungkook pov #Under His Skin #armpirate

[misslisamiray]

Time for the other thing I promised (and sorry it's a day late): An update on the Rick and Morty fanfic I'm writing! With bonus pic of the pretty space-themed binder it resides in. Also, from this post on, said fic will be referred to by its actual title.

Current page count: 80!!! (Which is so much longer than I expected this fic to get, but I am not complaining.) Status: Not done yet, but I'm entering the final stretch. I've given up on setting a goal date for when it's going to be finished, but I feel like I can now safely say SOON. Also, until the full fic is up on Ao3 & ff, you'll now be getting excerpts every Thursday!

Summary: Rick has a nasty cold... which he initially tries to pass off as an alien virus that can mimic any illness. Morty does his best to take care of him, and Rick (of course) makes things so, so much more difficult for both of them than they need to be. No one is surprised.

Meanwhile, Beth and Summer are out of the house, and Jerry is searching in the attic for the 90's anime VHS he's sure will help him figure out EXACTLY what to do (keep in mind he's the only one who still believes Rick's alien virus story). 😅

And now, without further ado, excerpt & dumbass title reveal below the cut!

Excerpt from Down With the Rickness by MissLisaMiray

"That's more like it. Okay, Rick. Here you go." Morty sighed. He carefully filled the medicine's accompanying measuring cup to the top line and tried to hand it to Rick.

"I don't want it." Rick grumbled, waving it away.

"Seriously?! Why not?" Morty asked, exasperated.

"It looks gross. I'm too stuffed up to tell, but it probably smells gross, too. And I know it's gonna taste like shit. So no, I don't want it." Rick explained, stubbornly turning his head. Morty barely held back a scream.

"Are you kidding me?! I thought it was gonna be something about this stuff being inferior to anything you'd make, so you were like, insulted by it. But it's just that? Of course it's gonna taste bad. Doesn't all medicine? Just swallow it quick and get it over with." He held the cup in front of Rick, who shook his head and continued refusing to take it.

"Of course this would be the one thing in the whole damn universe you won't drink. Rick, come on! It's for your own good. Stop acting like a 4 year old and take it!" Morty argued, climbing onto the bed and shoving the small cup in front of Rick's face. Rick opened his mouth to argue further, which Morty took advantage of by quickly pouring the medicine in before the old man could react.

Furious, the second he'd swallowed it down, Rick began sputtering, "Ugh, that's even worse than I thought it would be! Cough! Cough! What the hell, Morty?! Not cool! You can't force strange liquids down people's throats like that!"

"You think I enjoyed any part of that?! And don't be so dramatic - alI I did was make you take some cold medicine. Also, there's no way that's the most disgusting thing you've ever swallowed." Morty pointed out.

"Well, if nothing else, I can't argue that part. Still, that shit is foul. Yuck." Rick complained, still looking disgusted. He grabbed his flask and took a swig to wash away the taste. Morty considered saying something about that not being a great idea, but quickly decided it was a losing battle he wasn't interested in.

#fanfiction #rick and morty fanfiction #handwritten fanfiction in the year 2024 #actually almost ready to start typing this thing out #sickfic #please let me know if you like this #today's excerpt is one of my favorite parts #rick and morty fanfic #also this is NOT r!ckorty and i want to make that abundantly clear #my first fic in this fandom! #yes i'm going with “Down With the Rickness” as the title #no the knowledge that some actual RaM episode titles are much dumber does not make me feel better about that #rick sanchez #morty smith #my fanfic #my writing

[the-bjd-community-confess]

TW: Illness, grief

So I had promised some people in a group I'd post some doll pics of an old grail doll I'd found and bought. I sent the msg that I'd finally gotten it, because I was so fucking excited. I guess all good things come to an end, because a close friend was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and it just sucked all the joy and energy from that project and I left the doll boxed. I went radio silent for a month, and then basically came crawling back, with a small apology and a vague comment like -A close friend of mine is having a health crisis and we're all worried about her. I'll do the doll unboxing in a week or two. Because I wanted to have a slight distraction.

Someone made a comment which made me want to take the doll and smash it against concrete and posts the pics before tearing apart that person. The comment was one of the most cruel tone deaf comments I've ever read. Not word for word, but this person was oh so sorry for my situation, but that I'm lucky because at least we have free healthcare in my country which is not something everyone has. Blah fucking blah. That they were waiting for me to do the doll unboxing, and soon because they're so excited to see it.

My friend is going to die, her niblings will probably forget her because they're still so small. All her friends are fucking crushed and distraught because one of our best friends is going to die, I don't even know how her family is doing. And here I get to read someone telling me we're lucky to have free healthcare. Fucking great, I'll make sure to tell the person who's going to hold the eulogy at her wake to mention we were so lucky that at least the healthcare was free. If that asshole reads this blog, fuck you fuck you fuck you. I hope you never have a happy day in your life ever again, because you don't fucking deserve it.

~Anonymous

Mod: I’m so sorry Anon. Sending lots of love to you all ❤️

#BJD #ABJD #BJD Confessions #Community Confessions

[twinnedpeaks]

I am 100% sure that you are not hideous and I know that if you ever do feel like posting pics of yourself, you'll get nothing but love because you deserve it and I already know you're pretty and have such a cool style and your makeup is amazing. 🖤

i promise ill think about it🖤🖤 ur way too sweet thank u. sorry im an insecure fuck

[askfoxythejokerfox]

hey foxy if i may ask and i know this is personal to you in real life and not as your oc but if i may ask what happened between you and your ex? sorry if this really personal but i just was curious to what happened between you two and to why you hate him so much.

i don't mean to be rude hun but please don't send me these asks anymore as it is painful for me...but ill answer this as i did found a better guy...one that truly loves me and has been there for me irl...but the reason why i hate my ex so much it's because he broke my heart for another guy even after he promised me he truly loved me...my ex boyfriend Remmy Ansel which used to be a user on here back before the nsfw ban was my 1st boyfriend i ever had but i found out he fell for another guy and broke my heart...and then what makes things worse is that he went on twitter posting pics of him and his forever boyfriend holding hands and um doing sexual acts....*sighs* he truly broke my heart sending me into one of the deepest depressions iv ever been in one were i nearly almost took my own life that was until i met Tom on Twitter and w-well now were a happier couple now both in person and on the internet ^^ so at least i got my happy ending so to speak heh...but it still hurts me to what he did to me...but again please don't send me these types of asks anymore as it's painful for me to live in the past...

[lunaemain]

poetic vent post? poetic vent post just me making my suffering look pretty on writeblr

warnings: literally i vent. literally. mentions of fake deaths that felt too real, mentions of diverse illnesses that i still don't know if are true, mentions of suicide, of invasive thoughts. i feel like i'm victimizing but i'm trying to spread a positive message at the end and tell what happened somewhere cause it is eating me from inside.

maybe i was fooled at first. but you didn't see the way he promised so many things to me, although i knew i needed acts because words are easy to forget or manipulate. though, i felt loved, like a lot. it's not that i haven't feel loved in my life, all way around. i feel loved at home and i have some friends that make me feel that way, that i do mean something for them. but sadly, and for some reason, our brain finds easily those ones that break us that the ones that help us. and it happens to me as well, so, i'm gonna divide this into stages. the first one was when i was happy because of my relationship. wasn't easy, of course (covid, distance) but we made through the first month. he had an easy way to talk all the problems of the week on sundays, and he never let me sleep angry to him (what didn't happen really often cause we rarely fought). then, we have friend A.

Friend A and me were friends for almost a decade, and she really encouraged me to date him and to get to know him. he was tall, i'm not, but she was tall as well. whenever i updated a pic with her on my instagram, she asked me what he said about her. that kinda triggered me, but i felt i was just being paranoid, it was my first serious relationship ever, and my friend had no intentions to harm me at all. but it started to get worse: that i should leave the talls for the talls, that she would love to get the same wallpaper as me - that was a picture of him - and that the only thing that stopped her from flirting was that he was asexual, not even me, just his orientation. As a couple, he tried to commit sui a couple times being with me, so i felt extremely anxious whenever he was having a really sad day, and no matter what i tried to do or how i wanted to help, because he would just leave. that broke me more than once, and i was with Friend A when i had this hard episode of not knowing how he was after knowing he tried to with pills. So, i needed to vent that in some way, and the answer I got was "If he wants, I wouldn't stop him.". That made me question myself and him for a day straight, that is a lot of time i lost with philosophy that didn't enter on my head. if he wanted to, why would i push him instead of trying to let him see that he was not alone? I cut laces with this girl as soon as she seemed less interested on him and she cared less about me.

We were almost on five months of relationship when Friend B and Friend C came to our city to celebrate Christmas. We started to have little talk and the relationship thing came out, so I showed them a picture. I remember every single word they pronounced and how and where we were sitting when they said that. Friend C said that "he looked too handsome to be interested in me" (thing she repeated, but that's for another time) and Friend B said that "he looked like made of CGI so it was impossible". I've known Friend B since we were three, and Friend C since 15. I didn't expect that they would talk about my physical appareance as if it was the only thing on why he would get with me, and still, doubting that he was really jut with me because he was handsome. i didn't participate in our chat group that much, and barely answered them. Got a really bad episode of anxiety, asked him to leave me and search someone easier to keep and more pretty. still, he kept being by my side.

I don't know what he won staying with me until late or getting up early to speak to me, or listening to the songs i recommended him. but that's, again, for later.

Just a really little part of my inner circle seemed to be happy for me, and none of his seemed to be happy with it. So, here enters his Friend 1

Friend 1 was a girl that, as his words, was madly in love with him, to the point that she didn't spoke to him for moths when she discovered he was with me and then she went back. The thing is that she started to appear on his instagram stories when we made 6 months. At first, it was okie, i don't like to be jealous because everyone needs space, everyone needs friends and everyone needs to keep their life. but it started to get really weird soon. At first, he asked me if he could sleep at her home, and why would I say no? they're friends since preescholar. There's nothing wrong on it. He posted cute pics that showed the nice friendship they had. But, one afternoon, he told me he was gonna eat and come back to tell me something, and losing time on instagram i entered on his new story, which was him, half naked, sleeping on top of her as she recorded them. I couldn't be jealous, because maybe that was just their intimacy, but then it got worse. Pics on her bed, pics literally taken from the couple goals pinterest... I maybe freaked out a little. He said he would warn her if it bothered me, but still said it was fine. I really wanted to respect their friendship, even when none of mine was left. He started to be more and more on her home, eating with her, sleeping with her. but what could I do? It was physically impossible for us to do that. So i kept smiling and kept going.

Then, he started to be better on mental terms, he felt less depressed, but his "health" got worse. He went through two surgeries due to his lungs (supposedly, i insist). He started to say he was going on trips and left for whole weeks without telling me anything, and he said he was at the hospital all those times. The 3rd of February, I fell asleep before being able to speak to him.

It was February 4th when he entered the surgery that was a risk on him. He entered at 10:00, supposedly finished by midday. Never got an answer. I didn't felt bad because some people take days to recover from anestesia or from the surgery itself, he didn't had data on the hospital so i was used to pass weeks without knowing anything about him.

My anxiety rised when a full week passed, February 8th. I spoke to this Friend 1, she never answered. On the midnight of February 9th, his friend posted a story about how he will be missed. That's how i knew about the loss of the person i loved in that moment. I knew that friend and he spoke to me a couple times, and yet, i knew by a fucking Instagram story. I cried. I remember being on the living room, with my mom, watching YouTube to try to keep our minds away because the last days were unbearable. I cried every single class i attended. I didn't want to see anyone.

But I caught him.

It wasn't my intention, but once I visited ny therapist and talked about it, my mind started to feel peaceful, and, with it, to find connections that seemed wrong. a lot of them. I was probably too lost on lovely words and things no one ever said to me in the romantic aspect. So, talking with his friend (who said that the fault was mine for believing everything he said and not his for literally lie) i discovered he was alive. and, of course, dating Friend 1.

For me, it hurt way more than the day i discovered i would never get to talk to him again (specially, feeling that culprit for falling asleep before his surgery and not being able even to say bye to him) i felt so bad, so bad, so miserable. but then i got the critical hit.

am i that hard to love? why would someone fake his death before telling me he doesn't want to be with me anymore? why would he make me close myself and mourn a loss that wasn't true? why would he, that told me so many times how much he loved me, act like that to purposely hurt me?

i stopped to eat well, i stopped to sleep well, and i couldn't shave with a razor or use a scissor for months because i was scared of myself and of what i could do.

when i thought that i lost him, my only fear was to forget him or to be unable to make my life up again.

but when i knew he lied, i got a thousand fears more. what if no one ever likes me? what if i am the problem? maybe none of my friends do really enjoy being with me? maybe they all still think i'm not pretty enough or nice enough to be by my side? what did i do for him to do that?

my grades went down, my friendships went down, i have a hundred insecurities i'm ashamed of. i get anxious easily, i feel a burden, i don't feel enough for no one, i feel i'm just loved if i have an use, and once it's done, they are done with me. I feel like i don't exist for no one and i feel like i'm interrupting things whenever i talk first just to let them know i'm alright and to know how they are. i feel like no one has me as a first option and i'm always the plan B for every single person around me. i think that, if a hole just swallowed me, no one would notice. i cry too easy, i get excited too easy, i like to trust on people because i think that no one is gonna hurt me again, not everyone has to be like him, i talk too much and i - most of the times - talk nosenses just because i like talking, i like to learn about the other person, i like words, i like acts. i've lost contact with a lot of friends that never answered back in the last year, as well as i gained friends that i'm really really grateful for.

still, i'm trying my best to be stronger that what happened and i don't want to fall on bad habits that are derived from what happened. i want to be myself again and i don't want to cry more for that things, i don't want to be sitting on a bar with my friends and feel like i don't belong there and that everyone is just kind to me because i have something they need, i want to be someone people likes to talk to and trust into and i want to be someone lovable for once.

so, with this i want to say, that if someone hurt you, it doesn't matter if you feel like it is nothing, because you're hurt and that's the important thing. take time to heal, take care of yourself, don't lose contact with the true friends that want to be by your side, and if still you see no one and i'll might be a stranger, i'll be here for anyone. please, keep healing, keep loving yourselves.

#tw death #tw illness #tw sui attempt #tw depressive #tw anxiety

[builder051]

Happy Starbucks Sunday!

The day itself is happy (sooo sunny and pretty out, compared to yesterday's reenactment of the 'inevitable gale that seems to pop out of nowhere when they're, like, halfway to Hogwarts.') We are very thoroughly meh.

I haven't been feeling well; I think I might have an ear infection (or some kind of allergy sore throat feeling, but deep inside my ear canal? if that makes sense?) I'm currently eating the pectin gel that forms around the fruit in canned pie filling, 'cause tubie is hungry.

The roomies are off in another town doing some (actually really important) errands. The two little children are behaving just fine and enjoying naptime. Big kid, though... without being complainy or disrespecting his right to privacy, I'll tell you this much: He's going through a phase, possibly the prepubescent one, where any and all rules (parent-made "how we do it in our house" guidelines he's known since babyhood; general human kindness, like refraining from throwing toys at people, or flushing the toilet after using; traffic law, like putting on shoes and watching for neighbors' cars before bolting out the door with, like, 16 of our--actually only 7--pets in tow, to go color with sidewalk chalk in the middle of the cul-de-sac...etc.) just kind of go out of the window, and any adult attempting to correct him, even to keep him safe, is annoying him/lying to him/unduly punishing him.

You know my Mental illness Dx's and mental health history, so, in effect, you (accidentally) know his as well, as we're a near perfect match. All of those symptoms are hugely magnified, and, even with all four adults at home, it's a struggle to keep everything... calmer than an 11 on the scale of 1 to 10? So again, if I have to vanish suddenly in event of evacuation, use of a fire extinguisher, extension of the swiffer pole to extricate...something...from the ceiling (I'm the tallest in the house), you'll sort of understand what's going on. I'll try my best to keep you posted.

Now, THE PLAN!!

-I'm playing classic and taking your prompts. I'm trying to do shorter drabbles of higher quality (even though I'm not especially well physically, I'm quite mentally acute at the moment). I'll get to what I can, though no promises, but I am actively trying to be more "with it.

-Ask game! We're doing handwritten asks this week. I thought that would be fun. Especially since I deep-cleaned all the pens/pencils on my office (the little drawer set/shelf of self-help books, personal files, a huge 2x2 writing instrument organizer, and, of all things, professional watercolor supplies) that lives in the kitchen/dining area). So, I have a pencil and notebook all prepared; send me the emoji and/or # and/or phrase, and I'll write an answer, then post a pic.

That has to be about it... Oh, I'm going to try to get my random East R. Bunny story onto Kindle Vella, since it's gen-friendly nonsense. So, if you ever dig around over there, it will eventually post to my collection. All my Vella works are free. My novel is available on Amazon for Kindle and paperback for (I don't remember, but I think it's under $15).

#starbucks sunday

[muddlemore]

[sitting through snl pantyhose bit in agonizing silence]

dad: i had to wear pantyhose once it was awful

me: . what. like. as part of a uniform or

dad: the frat was having a pimps and hoes party

me: 

dad: i went as a hoe

me:

#i need to give my dad a tag #hes somethin else #i sincerely doubt theres any pics of his costume but like. how am i supposed to ask AIUDGHSFIHGSIFHGISHGIFHGIDHGHDFG #if there ever is a pic i promise ill post it #but holy shit dad wtf lmao