#...is this how people feel after amicable divorces?

[darcyolsson]

actually isn't that so upsetting. how you know that there's certain pieces of media that you were able to connect with in a very special way just a few years ago but now you've grown and you've changed and you aren't the person anymore who saw themselves so wholly in that book so though the memory of that connection will always be there, you will never be able to love it in quite the same way that you did before

#i love solitaire so much. but im not the girl who felt compelled to read it 4 times in one year anymore #and overall thats a GOOD thing like oh my god. i was a wreck at 15. and my being a wreck is what made me love it #but sometimes........ i miss the feeling i got when opening that book #it's not like i don't love it anymore i do. but it's different now. it's not like looking in a mirror anymore #it's like seeing my past self. which is nice in its own way. but sometimes id like to feel the way i did before #personal #...is this how people feel after amicable divorces?

[blacknedsoul-blog]

Random Thought of the Day (VIII)

So, posh besties are finally canon, yay! Congratulations Annabel, you only had to die, get divorced, survive an assassination attempt and have about 4 or 5 mental breakdowns to make one (1) friend, that is progress! Hopefully the next one will take less effort.

That said, there are two things I want to dwell on here.

I should like to by your friend and Could we be friends?

This is not the first time we've seen Annabel ask or tell someone outright that she wants to be friends. It's the second.

Yes, Lenore is not only Annabel's wife, but -possibly- her first proper friend. And it's really interesting because these scenes show you two really different sides of her, even though it's a similar situation.

When she meets Lenore, Annabel comes across as a very confident person, full of confidence and absolutely charming. She is formal but approachable and straightforward about her intentions: "We can help each other".

On the other hand, at this point, Annabel is keeping the reasons she wants this friendship to herself, she seems nervous -even a little uncomfortable- and behaves much more awkwardly. She hesitates, chokes on words, doesn't quite know if what she's doing is appropriate.

If I had to think of reasons for this contrast, there are two.

First: Annabel when she has time to plan vs. when she has to improvise. She went looking for Lenore, probably had at least an entire night to think about what kind of person this mysterious woman locked in the attic might be and how to approach this conversation. On the other hand, this conversation with Prospero had to be pulled out of her sleeve after a lot of emotionally complicated moments, maybe it didn't occur to her that this conversation could actually happen, and she has no plan B if Prospero rejects the offer.

On top of that, Annabel knows better than anyone the risks of getting attached to someone in Nevermore.

Second, that the scene with Prospero functions in some way as a reflection of Annabel's feelings when she first meets Lenore: there's no reason to believe she was any better equipped to enter into a relationship with anyone at that point in her life than she is now. But in this scene, we -and Lenore- see what Annabel wants to show, the parts of herself that she may find most attractive or pleasing. Here, Prospero gets a glimpse of her awkward and uncomfortable side, and I'd bet that awkwardness was present in that first meeting with Lenore, it's just that she had a chance to think about it, rehearse it, and thus hide those sides of her character as well.

The thing that makes me think of it that way is this:

Annabel's first gesture to Lenore is to shake her hand, which she also mentions here:

She still doesn't remember doing it, but the idea behind it is more or less the same: Annabel associates this kind of formality with friendly or amicable gestures; a mixture of business dealings and affectionate promises.

Again, the same intention, but with a very different performance. One that makes me wonder what exactly her thoughs when she went to see Lenore.

The Introvert Who Adopts and the Extrovert Who Is Adopted

Another thing that got me thinking about this whole thing is that so far we've seen Annabel -a very introverted person- be the one to take the first step in getting into a relationship with someone: she's the one who asks the question.

The funny thing is that even though Lenore is an extrovert, it was the other way around, she never took the initiative to start a relationship with anyone: Annabel came to see her, Morella is her assigned roommate, Duke came to talk to her, Pluto was won in a Pokémon swap (and she didn't choose him, Ada threw him under the bus), and Eulalie and Bernice approached her first.

I can see why this would happen from Annabel's side; she's a person who moves in the shadows, someone who lives by appearances and isn't afraid to manipulate or deceive to get her way. Under this premise, explicitly telling the people she cares about that this is an honest relationship feels like something even necessary for the sake of the relationship and her own mental health.

But in thinking about why this is happening to Lenore, and going back and reading chapter 22 to do this little analysis, I remembered this scene:

And…I don't know about you, but I think I'm going to pin this one. For now.

#nevermore webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #lenore nevermore #white raven #annabel lee whitlock #lenore vandernacht #Prospero Nevermore #posh besties #I like to think that Lenore found the traits Annabel wanted to show attractive #but fell in love with her silly and awkward side #the one Annabel wants to hide

[bird-inacage]

Net x James: An important reminder that BL partnerships consist of two individuals and they are not just a single entity.

So the Netjames news has been a notable bombshell in the fandom of late, and I've been quietly observing this as it unfolded earlier this week, particularly the varying reactions and discourse around it.

In his statement, James explained that his current career goals are moving in a different direction, which has resulted in him pulling out of 'Love Upon a Time', and by extension his acting partnership with Net. He wants to explore his other avenues as an artist, whereas Net is presumably focused on acting for now.

With BL partnerships, we often see the two co-stars tied at the hip. Its part of the gig and it comes with the territory. They don't just work together on their project, but they do a huge amount of activity (both public and private) outside of that. They travel, perform, they do fan meets, press events, and spend a huge amount of time together as a twosome. So we get accustomed to seeing them as a united entity, which means news like this tends to hit harder because it feels akin to a divorce. This is one of the pitfalls of the Thai BL industry. When you create a narrative around two people who exclusively come as a package, it makes it incredibly difficult for both the actors themselves and fans to accept or make peace with any possible deviation from that. I think it's natural for any actor or artist to desire collaboration with different people: to develop their craft, to further their experience, to broaden their versatility. If sticking to only one working partner 'for life' doesn't work for them, I completely empathise with that.

In their recent Instagram lives, Net and James were clearly sad and their feelings still very raw. This led to a lot of speculation regarding any ill-feeling or fall out between the two. But such accusations can be harmful. Even in an amicable or mutual break-up where ending a relationship is in both parties' best interests - the two people involved are still grieving. Being brutally honest and transparent with someone close to you, that things can no longer continue as they are, isn't easy. If fans feel upset, just imagine how difficult this is on them both. When you've been nurtured as a partnership from the get go, your co-star whose always been at your side provides a sense of safety and familiarity. And the prospect of now moving forward without them is a scary new unknown. On top of that, they probably feel an immense amount of pressure and guilt in digesting the potential fallout and response from their fans. There will be trepidation in how well their careers will fare in the immediate aftermath.

Despite this, there are also positives to be taken from this decision. Arguably, Net and James were still in the early stages of their partnership. Bed Friend really put them on the map as a couple. So for James to come forward with this realisation now, before they got too established as a pairing was a responsible thing to do. I'm sure the last thing anyone wants is for their favourite artists to feel stuck or obliged to continue working together, which would undoubtedly lead to feelings of resentment eventually.

So respectfully, these instances are not to be taken personally or to be deemed as a betrayal of your support. After all, what we know of these artists is only a very small piece of their identities as people. It's okay to be devastated, but be respectful of their wishes. You can choose to continue supporting them as individuals, or choose to no longer support them at all - either way, you are perfectly valid and entitled to your choice, just extend the same courtesy back and be mindful of casting unfair judgement on their choice.

For me, it is admittedly a shame because I did see great potential in them both as a pair, and they had fantastic chemistry which could have been nurtured with more time and experience. Regardless, I truly believe they both have immense love for one another, and I wish them both the very best. They've just come to terms with the fact they no longer share the same vision for what they want in their careers. And that's okay.

(I will always be grateful that they gave us THIS iconic moment).

#netjames #james supamongkon #james su #net siraphop #net x james #james x net #thai BL news #love upon a time #bed friend #catch me baby #BL meta

[fumifooms]

I've reached a certain point in the manga now where Sissel heckles Marcille and mentions how "half breeds" are sterile.

And now I can't get out of my head the idea of a Marcille who can't become a mother herself, but ends up being able to experience something of the sort through meeting Chilchuck's daughters (even if they are all grown already.)

And allow me to go further, but also imagine that there is a point where Chilchuck does finally bury the hatchet with his wife, but have come to accept that they just don't work anymore, and decide to divorce formally on amicable terms.

The daughters therefore all slowly get to know Marcille, and even without the intent of being motherly, she dotes on them all anyway (because they're just so cute and so sweet!), and they see how their crabby father's eyes goes soft when they see Marcille interacting with them that by the end of it, they corner their father and tell him they approve.

Yes!!! YES!!!

You seem to not have finished the manga yet so I want to avoid spoilers… But no if I’m going into this topic I’ll absolutely end up spoiling some things lol. So beware, spoilers in the links I put and under the cut! I also talk about this topic/dynamics headcanons a bit here, and here, and specifically about his wife and him reconciling or not here, and my fanfic Grind Me Down Sweetly has bits and headcanons like these, but it’s an aspect of marchil with lots of potential!! Not obligatory reading btw lol, I just like to keep things as tidy as I can with things I cover many times plus there’s more stuff I won’t say here. I’m gonna be talking for a while though!!

I feel she could genuinely get along great with Flertom and Puckpatti, their personalities seem pretty compatible! Meanwhile Meijack’s more reserved, but Marcille would grow on her too. Meijack 100% would be the one who sticks more around her father as Marcille and her sisters chat enthusiastically when she first meets them, and out of nowhere she goes "She suits you." and Chil spits out his beer, but he swallows back the urge to deny it and then agrees.

One of my marchil timelines is that they stay close friends for a long time after post-canon, before maybe or maybe not dating. I like to think that after they meet, Marcille starts exchanging letters with Flertom sometimes because they hit it off and Chilchuck is like "Why are you on first name basis with my daughter!!! WHY ARE YOU ON FIRST NAME BASIS WITH MY DAUGHTER!! WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN, STOP INFILTRATING ALL OF MY LIFEEEE-" <- Man who has her on his mind 24/7 and is kinda going mad over it. Hehe I’ll let you read the fic I linked in the beginning if that sounds fun to you!

I know that in my fic wips where confessions or proposals happen I tend to bring the topic of the daughters up. Here’s my favorite that lowkey guts me

Post-canon spoiler but I like the idea that when the Toudens die from age or one thing or another, if one of them forms a family and has kids (through adoption or anything) then at least over the centuries she’d still overlook the lineage of royals and would find a sort of solace from that, always being surrounded by lots of caring people. I think this is a bit healing for her single child self as well! Her notion of family and childhood are very tainted by loneliness and loss, and though she needs to accept that all hellos end with goodbye and find closure and happiness even through that, something can definitely be done about the loneliness! And as you can see with my fanfic wip, in a perfect marchil world I also think that she would fully become a part of Chilchuck’s family and generations down the line either people at family gatherings call her "great-auntie", or inversely no one really knows and just goes "oh her? Yeah that’s Marcille. She’s in the family -shrug-". The family dinners would be awkward at first since I imagine Chilchuck’s prejudices on elves come from somewhere lol, but it’d be so sweet.

But yes, back to the daughters! Marcille is 100% a mom friend who loves caring for her loved ones (I have a post examining that a bit here), there’s how she likes to bathe Izutsumi and Falin after all (Kui has said it herself that she loves when characters care for others in ways like that, which reflects in Marcille, and with Milsiril & Kabru or Mithrun & his caretakers, etc~), but I don’t think she’d actually want a kid herself if she had to choose, maybe she’d grow to want it one day but I think what kind of bonds she’s looking for currently are more platonic and such than familial in nature, that she wouldn’t want ro raise a child herself quite yet. She likes spoiling people she loves and caring for them in domestic ways, but not the ‘everything else’ part lol. So I actually think this works out great!! She 100% dotes on them as you said, but in many ways I think their dynamic would be a lot like gal pals chatting every once in a while, Flertom and her share in the latest gossip and they talk about fashion amongst other things! With Meijack being more akin to the usual stepmother dynamic where what ties them together is Chilchuck, until they grow to have a bond based on familiarity over time (I feel like due to these she’s the one that would have a mother-daughter relationship with Marcille the most since Flertom and Puckpatti would be more casual with her, but I basically think all the daughters and Marcille see each other as equals). Their common point above everything is caring about Chilchuck, and though of course Marcille would be ready to offer motherly comfort or support for them if they wanted it, the girls are pretty past that age so I don’t see it happening all that much, at least not in the first 5 years or so~ I think once Chil dies (probably not very late with how he drinks a lot of alcohol and was malnourished/"strict dieting" for what’s implied to be a very long time) the reverse is gonna happen, where Marcille is gonna be absolutely gutted and will reach out to the girls a lot to grieve together and spend time recovering together. Talking about him and whatnot. If his wife goes to his funeral and they meet, Marcille and her could potentially also have very interesting interactions.

Girl sure wishes she wasn’t right here :( Unbeknownst to him she’d be giving him lifespan buffs ad infinitum if she could

And! It was so easy for me to miss this detail when I first read The Adventurer’s Bible (the world guidebook) but Marcille’s mom remarried! Marcille has a stepfather herself! It’s interesting that Marcille’s relationship with him or her stance on her mom remarrying is left so open, but she certainly acts enthusiastic about families and kids so doesn’t seem like there’s a complex there. I think this would give her a lot of thoughts about potentially being a stepmother though! I think it might influence her in her casual attitude, where she doesn’t want to push herself as ‘the new mother’ and whatnot, and I think honestly if the girls ever wanted to vent to her about how their family situation made them feel, Marcille and them could have really heartfelt and understanding conversations.

Ah yes ah yes, might as well unload my ‘Chilchuck has a second family of clingy asses’ timeline I adore: Marcille and Izutsumi, + the rest of the gang to a lesser degree~ I already linked a post in which I talk about how Marcille’s somewhat of a motherly presence for her, and Izutsumi’s relationship with Chilchuck is def rather father-like too (post going into that here)! A post-canon Marcille hc I love is that Marcille gets a cat~ A black one to fit with her witch aesthetic, and with how the cat hairs are black like the dresses she now wears all the time so it’s less apparent that she’s covered in them lol. It reminds her of Izutsumi a bit as she goes on her journey, it’s kinda like the chickens she had around her as a kid, she loves having things to care for and spoil AND also it’s the end place of her character arc about appreciating loved ones even if they’re short-lived, and having the courage to want to know and love them anyways… It always comes back to marchil and his stupid only 20 years left to live I swear 😭 I genuinely feel like Marcille tends to keep some emotional distance from others during canon to try and minimize that effects of loss would have on her, but more on that in another upcoming post. But yeah I feel like every time she sees a stray cat while strolling out she starts tearing up a little… She wonders if Izutsumi is okay and eating well and all… But she learns to live with not fully knowing, and optimism & being hopeful are her trademark thing so she puts them to good use! Sometimes her and Chil will hang out of his shop and they’ll see a stray cat. They start leaving some food out for them. Chil is all "Bad idea! They’ll become overly reliant on our food and it’ll be bad for them!" at first but he caves. So then they watch it feed on what they gave it, and she brings up what was both on their mind. "Do you ever wonder where Izutsumi went, if she’s alright…" "You say that as if she didn’t visit three months ago. Aren’t you supposed to be the one for who long periods of time mean little here?" And a silence falls, but then after a bit he finally replies, without snark. "… I do." Marcille’s cat would 100% be a stray she decided to adopt actually. I am seeing how a marchil fic being written centered around this would work~ Before she brings it to the castle and officially adopts it, she sees it standing out in the rain all pitifully in front of Chil’s shop once and she invites it in (to Chilchuck’s despair), and from then on it’s still a stray but it has a home to go back to. And it can showcase Marcille and Chil’s relationship alongside that metaphorically and it’s like… Domesticating love… 😭 I think I hold a Grind Me Down Sweetly sequel here~ Chilchuck is so the ‘doesn’t want a cat dad who ends up being the cat’s favorite’, both with his cat daughter and the actual cat lol, and Marcille’s not a cat but he certainly wasn’t looking for another romance so hey!! Chilchuck expected to live alone forever after his wife didn’t get back together with him, but surprise!!! Ok cat tangent over I promise <3

Meeting the stepmom energy… Plus the dwarven bachelor. And the king. Maybe he didn’t make up with his wife "like how well it goes in stories" like he hoped for, but her wish sure did come true!! She met his family!! :] I’m planning a huge character arc post about this part of their interactions in canon, but optimism and hope did at least half the job <3 Especially since he hadn’t seen his daughters in years too. She’s good for him!!! And he’s good for her!!!

<3

#Dungeon meshi #Marchil #marcille donato #chilchuck tims #flertom #meijack #puckpatti #izutsumi is in here too #headcanons #fic wip #Ask #thank you for the ask!! And sorry for the monster answer. Have a nice first read! Don’t spoil yourself! #dungeon meshi manga spoilers

[writing-house-of-m]

No More Interruptions

Taylor Sloane x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Angst

Warnings: Anxiety/depression, cheating, asshole-ery, swearing

Word Count: 6,943

Summary: You and Taylor are friends. When her husband becomes insecure in their marriage and cheats on her, you help Taylor as much as you can through her divorce while you hide your true feelings for the blonde.

A/N: The request can be found here. I hope you enjoy anon! (I'm sorry it took so long)

You have been in love with Taylor Sloane and there was nothing you could do about it. 

The two of you had become good friends. Great friends even, which is why you couldn’t say anything. You didn't want to ruin what you had. Not to mention the fact that she was married. 

And you had to watch.

Watch the couple’s interactions with a smile on your face. Listen to everyone commenting on 'how cute' they were and how they were the ‘perfect couple’. 

Every word felt like a knife was being twisted in your chest. Over and over again. 

You tried to move past your feelings. Spent some time away from her, admittedly it helped for a little while. You even started dating again and started a relationship with someone but as soon as you were back in Taylor's orbit all your feelings came rushing back. 

Eventually, you and your, now, ex-girlfriend split amicably. You tried to love her but when those words didn't ever come from your mouth after she said them to you, you knew it was unfair to hold on to her. 

On the other hand, Ezra, Taylor’s husband, was jealous of you. He had it in his mind that you would make a move on his wife. Regardless of your feelings towards the blonde, you would never have come between them. 

However, having had enough of living in her shadow on top of being so convinced she would cheat on him, using his own words, - 'I cheated on you, before you could do it to me.' 

Taylor was heartbroken. She loved the man wholeheartedly and felt betrayed. 

She wasn't aware of his jealousy. She hadn't caught on that he would be overly affectionate when you were around. How he would grit his teeth when his wife would talk about you to others. He’d be so caught up in his jealousy that her words about him being 'so talented,' and 'the best husband anyone could have asked for,' fell on deaf ears. 

After Ezra's cheating scandal and their divorce was caught on by internet gossip sites, you tried to be there for Taylor but, with her ex-husband spilling lies about you and her, you found it was better to keep your distance and only met up with her in small groups of people. Never just the two of you alone. 

As the months passed by, you helped with as much as you could while Taylor grieved her relationship with Ezra all the while dealing with her divorce. It got to a point where you had made a schedule so that someone was always with her to ensure she wasn't alone. 

Because it couldn't be you. 

… 

Music was blasting through the house as you stood in the kitchen with your friend, Dan.

“She’s so fine, Y/n!” He was talking about a girl he had been talking to and you were standing there smiling at his antics to bed the, in your words, poor woman. 

He knew about your feelings for Taylor, as well as everything you were doing for her, so he made sure you turned up to this party to give you a chance to relax a little. 

He was successful for the most part, seeing you speak to new people, making new friends. He even helped be your wingman a couple of times. Even so, while you were pretending to listen to these girls you had a different one on your mind the whole time. 

He took a swig of his drink and asked “Anyone caught your eye? I saw you talking to that brunette, are you taking her home tonight?” 

You told him you appreciate what he was doing but you just wanted to see Taylor. It had been over a month since you last saw her. 

He shook his head disapprovingly but sympathised with you. "So, who's with her tonight?" He asked, satiating your need to talk about the woman that wouldn't ever leave your thoughts. 

Finishing the sip you had just taken of your drink, you struggled to keep a straight face when you told him, "Nicky," forcing yourself not to smirk, waiting for his reaction. 

His face scrunched up when he caught on, "Nicky?!" You scoffed at his facial expression. "Nicky? Her brother? The ‘always-wasted’, ‘ready-to-party’, Nicky?" He questioned. 

You chuckled slightly, "Yeah, that's the one." You took a mouthful of your drink, before continuing with a smile on your face, "He's actually stepped up in a big way and been really protective." 

"I don't blame him. This Ezra sounded like a dick. I would have kicked his ass a long time ago," he says and before either of you get to say another word you hear someone shout, "LET'S PARTY MOTHERFUCKERS!" Recognising the voice instantly you move to the main room of the house, with Dan following. 

You see Nicky waving and saying ‘hi’ to several people he probably didn't even know, as you walk up to him. He sees you so addresses you too, "Y/n! It's about time I saw you at one of these again!" The blonde says as he pulls you into a tight hug. 

You return his greeting and when he lets go, with furrowed eyebrows, you can't stop yourself from asking, "Why aren't you with Taylor?" Voice raised so he can hear you over the music. 

He shrugs his shoulders, "She told me she wanted some time alone," he says nonchalantly.  You're about to scold him for leaving her but he stops you because he's been on the receiving end of this before, having had this kind of conversation with him a few times already. 

He puts up his hand to stop you before you start, "Wait, just listen," He pulls you to a different room where the music is a bit quieter, "I told her I would stay with her but she insisted. She said she was just going to sleep anyway." He clarifies and from his expression you can see he's telling the truth. 

He is looking around at the other party goers, giving someone a head nod and another person a wave, while you nod your head, "Ok," you say solemnly and hesitate to continue. "How is she?" 

"Ehh…" He was trying to think of the right words, "She's… better than she was but still has a while to go," then blurts out an afterthought, "She always asks about you, you know?" Someone dancing catches his attention and his face lights up. While you're distracted thinking about what he has just said, the excited man sees this as his opportunity to leave you. "Gotta go bros!" He says to you and your best friend before rushing off. 

Dan starts to speak from behind you so you turn around, "Look, I know you think you're helping by not going over. But it's been long enough since you last saw her." He pats your arm grinning, "Go over and just say 'hi'." 

“Maybe you're right,” You smile at him. 

“I’m always right,” He responds, going in to hug you goodbye. 

"Plus,” you both pull away, “I gotchu bro!" Dan says comically, mimicking Nicky and making you laugh. 

… 

It doesn't take you long to get to Taylor's from the party. You thank the driver and make your way to her door.

You know it will be fine but you feel nervous. It feels like a lifetime has passed since you last saw her. 

After a few knocks and no answer. You think she could be sleeping so you are about to leave but just before you do you figure, since you're already there, you could at least text her to make sure.  

-

Upstairs, Taylor,  already looking at her phone, smiles when sees your message pop up at the top of her screen:

I know you're home. Come and answer your door, lazy 😴

She considers not answering because she's been crying and doesn't want anyone to see her like this. She’s been laying in bed for a few hours reading comments about herself online. 

She hears her phone ping again: 

Don't leave me on read now Sloane 🤨

She laughs tearily at the message and types her reply. Once it is sent she moves to her bathroom to splash some water on her face hoping it will soothe her eyes and irritated skin. 

When it obviously doesn't work she throws on a hoodie bringing the hood over her eyes hoping to keep you from seeing them. 

-

You smile when you hear your notification sound.  

You're not allowed to comment on how I look 

After a few minutes you hear the door unlock. Taylor is standing in front of you, drowning in an oversized hoodie. 

"When you said I couldn't comment on how you looked, I thought I'd at least be able to see your face and crazy hair," you say with a smile. 

"And yet, you still commented on it." She retaliates. 

You laugh at her jest. 

"Hi Taylor," you say, still smiling. 

She whispers a "Hi," and you see a small smile because it's all you can see of her face. 

"Can I come in?" 

She moves to the side as you step in, not going any further. Once she has locked the door and faces you, you open your arms. She falls into you without hesitation. 

With your arms around each other, her head against your chest, you press your cheek on top of her head. 

"I've missed you," She says in a small, sad voice that you can't help but feel a twinge inside you. 

"I've missed you too," you reply. 

"Sorry, it's been so long," you whisper into the dimly lit house. It's so strange to see the bubbly blonde so down, you still haven't gotten used to seeing her like this. 

You place a kiss on the crown of her head and stand there for a little while longer enjoying this moment you've been longing for the past few weeks. 

It’s been quiet for too long, so you decide to break the silence, "You haven't gone to sleep on me, have you Sloane?" You quip. 

The blonde laughs and sniffles as she pulls away. 

"You've been crying," You knew it as soon as you heard her voice when she first opened the door. "Is that why you're not letting me see your face?" 

She finally looks up from the ground to your eyes and when you see hers, your heart breaks with how sad she looks. "Maybe," she whispers with a small smile on her face. But a tear falls and you can't help but pull her in for another hug. 

The two of you stand there for a few more minutes until she apologises; for crying and for ruining your shirt. 

You can't help but laugh at her as you grab her hand, "You have nothing to apologise for." 

She looks at you again with teary eyes. 

You just want to wrap her up so you can keep her with you and make sure she never hurts again. 

Using your other hand you brush away a stray tear and cup her cheek, "Do you want to talk about it?" 

.

You're in her room, sitting across from each other on her bed. 

She has finally taken off her hood and you can see just how broken she looks. 

Messy hair, red and swollen eyes. You don't think you've ever seen Taylor this sad before. You hate that she's feeling like this. 

The influencer opens up about everything going through her mind. All about how she didn't know Ezra was feeling insecure in their marriage. How she lost you because of everything. Her insecurities about finding love again - If she'll ever find 'the one'. 

You talk her through it all, reassure her and call Ezra a variation of names from 'dick' to 'the worst type of scum' gaining a few laughs from the sad girl. 

Overall she looks better. Relief settling in her bones after getting all of this off her shoulders. She couldn't be happier that you showed up. And being honest with yourself, you felt better too. 

"I saw what they were writing about you. Online. What he said about you. I know that's why you stay away." She thinks to not say her next thought but continues anyway, "I would stay away from me too." 

You give her a puzzled look, "Taylor. I didn't stay away because of you, I stayed away because of them," she returns your look. "I stayed away so they wouldn't have the ammo to use against you with these lies, I never want to be away from you. I really have missed you." 

Taylor's eyes fill with tears again, only this time they're happy tears. 

“You’re kind of my favorite person,” you say, pushing her shoulder teasingly, which she laughs at. 

You talk even longer. Hours and hours of talking about everything and nothing. 

You talk about some of the weirdest influencers you've come across, Nicky and Dan arguing over stupid things - in your opinion,  they'd both die first in a zombie apocalypse. "I know! Nicky couldn’t stop going on and on about it when he came here that day!" The blonde adds. 

You're both laughing when you look out of the window and see colors of the sunrise. You hadn't realised how late, or early, it had gotten. 

"Oh wow, I should really go," you say, taking out your phone to look at the time. You see a flurry of notifications you didn't know about because you had put it on silent earlier. While you have it out you quickly read over a few messages as you pull down the status bar on the screen and stand from the bed. 

You don't see the way Taylor's face drops at the prospect of you leaving. 

Her voice stops you from picking up your jacket.  

"Stay." 

The word comes out so soft, that if the room wasn't so quiet you would have missed it. 

You look up from your phone and see green eyes shining at you, begging you to accept her request. 

There's a hopeful look on her face and you knew from early on in your friendship you wouldn’t ever be able to deny her of anything, especially when she's looking at you like that. 

"Okay," You smile at her. 

Who knew one word could make someone so happy? She's beaming as she slides to the other side of the bed pulling her covers over so you can get in. 

You're not sure if you should face her or not as you put your phone down next to the bed and move to lie next to her. But when you see her facing the middle, you do the same. 

Once you’re both comfortable, you look over and see her smiling at you. You can’t help but smile back. 

Goodnight’s are whispered to each other and Taylor is asleep within a few minutes. 

You gaze at her sleeping figure. She looks so peaceful, so soft. You make a mental note to text Dan thanking him for pushing you to see her. 

With your mind going one hundred miles a minute it takes you a while to fall to sleep. 

…

From then on you had both been texting and calling frequently but avoided meeting in person to avoid any complications while her divorce was being settled and rumours were still circulating. 

It only took a few more weeks but once the divorce was done, you were able to be Taylor's close friend again. Physically speaking. 

Even though your feelings were as strong as ever you never overstepped that line of friendship. 

You didn't want to ruin what you had. 

You couldn't. 

… 

Life, from there, carried on for Taylor. She was back on Instagram, made a few videos about her divorce and talked about how she was going to fully embrace this time she had to herself. 

To work on herself. 

She was happier, your friendship was better than before and you both frequented different social events while pushing one another to be better in your respective circles. 

Everything was good for months until she ran into Ezra at a grocery store. 

… 

Nicky was in town and staying with Taylor. 

After the incident, he tried all he could to console her but whatever he was trying didn't help. 

Many failed attempts to comfort her later, he called the one person he knew could help. 

-

You were away for some humanitarian work and were going to be out of service for at least a week. 

When you told Taylor you were going she whined asking you to let her tag along next time. After explaining it wasn’t her scene because there were no five star hotels… or any hotels as a matter of fact - her face wilting was the only answer you needed, making you chuckle. 

"Just hurry up and come back," she whined. 

-

When you got back and saw the amount of missed calls and texts you had from Nicky, you called him as soon as you could. 

Whenever you were away from Taylor, be it in meetings for work or away for whatever reason, witty messages from the blonde were usual - ‘You better be missing me,’ ‘I’m bored,’ ‘Hurry up and finish what you’re doing,’ etc. 

So when her brother explained everything and told you Taylor hadn't been herself for days, you weren’t surprised. You had deduced that much when you saw her messages had stopped around the same date of the confrontation Nicky filled you in about. 

He had been making sure she was eating and taking care of her basic hygiene but overall she wasn't doing well even if she was pretending she was fine. 

When you got to Taylor's house you used your emergency key to get in. 

You raced to her room but entered slowly. 

You spoke cautiously "Taylor?" She was laying in bed, back facing the door. "I know what happened," you say softly as you approach her. 

She looked so small. 

-

Ezra had fast become the biggest lowlife you'd ever come across and that was one of the nicest ways to put it. 

While Taylor went shopping and was in the produce section, he and his new girlfriend surrounded her. Talks of her using her fame to bad mouth him, making him look bad while Taylor was playing the victim. 

She got out of there as fast as she could. It was a good thing Nicky saw her being ganged up against and stopped her ex from saying anything else by sucker punching him in the jaw. 

He drove her home but she didn’t say a word to him the entire drive. 

When he explained to you what had happened you knew she would fall back into that state you found her in months ago. 

She'd come so far since then and all it took was a few words from this literal piece of shit to bring her back down. 

-

"You're so much better than him Tay," she stays quiet. "Remember when I called him the scum of the Earth? I found a better way to describe him - 'dung nugget'," you try, but still nothing. 

As you shrug off your jacket, placing it to the side on her chair and sitting on the bed so you can almost see her face. You change your tone to a light hearted one, "I guess I need to bring out the big guns to make you laugh," you're met with even more silence so you carry on. 

"Did you know the first french fries weren’t cooked in France?" You see her eyebrows furrow, confused as to how you went from trying to cheer her up to something so random. 

She wonders if she should say something even though she doesn't have the energy but you don't give her a chance as you continue, "They were cooked in Greece," you smile, proud of yourself. 

Still nothing so you carry on. 

You make a fake face humming like you're thinking of your next joke even though you have a few ready to go. 

"Why did the scarecrow get an award?" She wants to roll her eyes but she just lays still on her side. 

"Because he was out standing in his field." She bites the inside of her lip to suppress a smile but remains quiet. You see some movement of muscles on her face and try to suppress your grin because you have one more you’re sure will work. 

"What do you call a dinosaur that uses really cheap toilet paper?" She closes her eyes, pursing her lips because she thinks she knows where the joke is going to go: she's wrong. 

You end your ‘pause for dramatic effect’, "Mega-sore-ass," you hear her scoff and you let out a chuckle too, "I knew you'd like that one." 

As your laughter subsides, you hear her speak, "I thought you were going to say something about the ‘dung nugget’," she says quietly. 

You smile, shaking your head, "Damn, that would have been way better. When did you get funny?" 

The blonde reverts back to silence until, "Y/n, I know what you're doing, and it's sweet, but I just want to be miserable." 

You press your lips together and let out a breath through your nose. She thinks you're going to leave but you’re taking off your shoes to then slide in next to her on the bed. 

She automatically moves so she can lean into your side with her arm over your stomach. You get comfortable by placing your arm around her and pull her close to you. 

Once you're both settled, with her head on your clavicle, you hear her release a shaky breath and feel her relax into you. 

You kiss the top of her head and begin to stroke her hair while you lay in silence. 

After a few minutes you break the quiet atmosphere, "I know it doesn't feel like it but you won't feel this way forever. One day, you'll be so happy that nothing will bring you down." 

"How do you know I'll be happy?" She asks with a sniffle. 

With your chin leaning on her head and you smile to yourself, "Because I'll be there to make sure of it." 

Taylor brushes a tear gathering in the corner of her eye with the sleeve of her hoodie wrapped around her thumb and says, "How? With your lame ass jokes?" Finishing with a small chuckle. 

You let out an exaggerated gasp, "How dare you insult me like that Taylor Sloane!" You begin, as you pull away from your cuddled position.

Taylor's disappointment from moving away from your warmth doesn't last long because you continue, "You know what I have to do now, don't you?" 

Looking at you confused, Taylor is about to ask what but before she can say anything you answer your own question with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, "Payback," not giving her any time to react you start to tickle her. 

She screams and starts to giggle from the sensation of your attack on her ribs. Her giggles turn into howling laughter and soon you're both laughing at each other because Taylor doesn't back down from a challenge. Not with you. 

She tries to retaliate but you have the upper hand because you've moved on top of her. 

You grab her flailing arms by her wrists and pin them down to the bed either side of her head. You both breathe hard, as your laughter slows, "I guess I win, Sloane,'' you say with a smirk on your face. 

She tries her luck by pushing her arms up but you push back not giving her a chance, making you both chuckle at her failed attempt. 

When she sees she is trapped she realises something, “So what now, huh? Your hands are too busy to attack,” she says smugly. 

You smile down at her. 

She looks so beautiful. 

Even with her messy hair that's tied up in a bun giving you a full view of her face. 

Her tired,  shining emerald eyes look at you the same way you're looking at her. 

You take in every detail of this moment which feels like an eternity. Both your smile's lost as this boundless moment drags on. 

Her gaze drops quickly to your lips then back to your eyes. 

You look at her lips a second longer she looked at yours, thinking to yourself; Is this really going to happen? 

When both your eyes meet again, you are waiting for her to tell you to stop as your head lowers slowly. 

Just as you're almost at the finish line, the tip of your nose brushing hers, you hear the front door of her house open, "Taylor!" You hear the voice of her brother and the rustling of some bags making you pull away at a record speed. "You better not be moping around! I bought us some food!" He shouts. 

You get off her sitting on the edge of the bed, moving to put on your shoes, your back facing her as she sits up looking at you. 

No words are exchanged as she walks out of the room first. 

Taylor makes it into the kitchen but you hang back a little while longer, mind reeling at your almost kiss. 

Nicky smiles and Taylor gives him a full one back, it's not like one of the half-assed smiles he's been getting from her recently. He sees her eyes are not as dark as they have been the last few days too. 

As you make it to them soon after, you look up to see Nicky sorting through the food, plating it all up. "Y/n, I didn't know you were here," he realises now, why Taylor looks better and offers you a smile that you easily return. "There should be enough food for the three of us." 

‘Maybe it's not meant to be.’ - This is the mantra that always goes through your head when you're with her recently. 

"I should go," you smile and start to turn to leave. Just before you do you whip your head around, "If you need me just call me, okay?" You say to Taylor once she makes eye contact. 

She smiles and nods her head. "Thank you," she rushes out before you turn to leave again. "For today. I feel better." 

You give her a small smile, "I'm glad," you reply. You say your goodbyes to them both and leave the house. 

Taylor stares at the spot you were standing as you leave. She hears the door shut and lock, while her mind replays the moment on her bed. Nicky's voice brings her back to her standing in the kitchen, "Is Y/n alright? They never say no to free food," he jokes as she turns to look at him. 

She smiles at his comment and starts to help him with the plating. 

When he starts talking about one of his 'bros doing a backflip into a pool' her mind goes back to you and his voice turns into white noise. 

If Taylor was being honest with herself; 

She would admit that she had imagined a future with you; 

Your kind and loving nature had only pulled her in more and more; 

That she was in love with you. 

… 

A few weeks pass by and while you and Taylor haven't been avoiding each other your interactions have been… less. 

Nicky has left the city again but not before making sure his sister was going to be okay without him, speaking to you to make sure you were going to be around more than you had in these weeks. 

The two of you have only met a couple of times since the day in her bedroom. Neither of you mention it when she calls you on a random Thursday morning asking if you’re busy. 

Her house is running out of necessities so she needs to go shopping. While Nicky was there he would do it but now that she has to do it, she doesn't want to go on her own. 

You agreed to go with her but under one condition: you would drive. 

The two of you have a long running joke about how bad of a driver she is. She, on the other hand, doesn't see it. 

Her laughter in response was music to your ears, you had hated being away from her. 

.

Greeting Taylor, albeit a little awkwardly at first, the two of you fall into your rhythm once more after a few jokes and insults like the way you both usually interact. 

When you get to the grocery store Taylor is sitting in your passenger seat, working up the courage to enter. 

You sit there giving her the time she needs to build up the courage to enter the store. "It's always been so easy, to just walk in," Taylor says as she plays with her fingers, replaying the last time she was here in her head. 

You reach over and take her hand in yours, "Take all the time you need Sloane," you smile at her. 

She takes a final deep breath as she reaches for the door handle and leaves the car. You follow her lead by stepping out of the car and moving inside. You make sure the blonde takes her time walking through the aisles. 

You manage to complete the shopping trip without a hitch. There was an almost incident where Taylor thought she saw Ezra after rounding a corner. Before she could freak out though, you wrapped your arm around her, hand resting on the shopping cart handle, "You're ok, it's not him," you said calmly, as you successfully walked past the man. 

Now that all of her shopping bags were bought in from her car and resting on the counters in the kitchen, it had finally caught up to Taylor. 

She was shaking and you did what you always do which was take her in your arms, "You’re safe now, I’m here." 

Once her trembling stops, she takes a step back and looks at you, "I don't know what I'd do without you." 

Smiling you say, "I know you'd be fine because you're Taylor fucking Sloane," making her chuckle. 

When the moment passes, Taylor takes on a more serious expression, "Really, Y/n. You mean so much to me, I can't imagine my life without you," she says, truthfully. 

You look to the floor and then back to her eyes, "You mean a lot to me too, Taylor," your heart begins to race. 

Your mouth is getting drier by the second. The expression on your face is so serious, Taylor is slightly taken aback. 

You play with the keys in your hands and take this opportunity to say the words you've longed to say. 

"Tayl-" 

Both of you look in the direction of the front door when you get interrupted by the doorbell ringing. She mumbles something about going to see who it is so you nod your head acknowledging her. 

You take a deep breath and jump slightly when your phone rings. 

By the time she gets back she hears the end of your speech, "I'll be there soon, bye," she can't help the frown that takes over her face. 

You turn around seeing the look on her face, you ask,  "Everything ok?" She smiles, explaining it was a package for Nicky. 

She can't help but ask, "You have to go?" 

"Yeah, there's an emergency with some photos and I'm the only one that can deal with it I guess," you say and she smiles softly at you. 

"Saving one person at a time," you smile at her comment and want to say you would always drop everything to save her, but you don't. 

You wrap her in another hug after making sure she will be alright. You then say goodbye before leaving. 

Before Taylor gets on with sorting through the shopping she finds herself spaced out once again after another interaction together. 

A major thought being: ‘What were you going to say?’ 

… 

You had been so caught up with everything going on with Taylor and distracting yourself with work you don't know the last time you spoke with Dan. 

The two of you arranged to meet, so right now you were both sitting outside enjoying a day of leisure together. 

Once he had updated you about his life, you started with yours.  

He already knew about the almost kiss in the bedroom but you use this time to catch him up with the latest. 

When you get to the part about you almost telling Taylor how you feel about her in her kitchen he called you- "dumb! You are such an idiot Y/n!" 

"Thanks," you deadpanned. 

"For real Y/n, why can't you just tell her how you feel?" He sounds frustrated and you can’t blame him. He has had to listen to you talk about the same girl for over two years. 

"We keep getting interrupted, I think it's a sign," you exasperate, as you look at a few clouds in the sky leaning back in your chair. 

"Bullshit!" He shouts out and you turn your head, smiling, to look at him, "What about all the times in between when you haven't even tried?!" His expression is serious and you lower your eyes to the bottle in your hand for a second and back to him, "You need to tell this girl how you feel," he lowers his voice, accentuating his serious expression. 

You're not smiling anymore and he knows where your mind is going to go with this "I-" 

"No!" His voice goes back to being raised. 

You try again, "You don-" 

"I do understand, because I know exactly what you're gonna say," damn, he knows you too well. 

You sit there for a few seconds shaking your leg while you chew your lip in thought. 

He leans forward in his chair, elbows resting on his knees as he looks at you, voice lowered and a lot softer than before but still as threatening, "I know what's going on in that head of yours. I can literally hear what you're thinking," 

You pause your ministrations and squint at him, "Bullshit, you don't know what I'm think-" 

Before you can finish your accusation he is already saying what's on your mind, albeit, cynically, "Oh I don't want to ruin our friendship(!) The universe is against me(!) Wah, wah, wah. You big baby," he finishes leaning back in his lounge chair. 

You look down while you stay slouched in yours. "You're an asshole, you know that?" You say, smiling as you look back at him. 

"You know what? I do know that, I know I'm a correct asshole and you need to get your head out of your own ass," he finishes. 

You scoff, "Dick," then go silent as you start thinking and considering he's not letting you speak, now he's not going to let you think either. 

"Y/n, no. No big romantic gestures, no big speeches just tell her how you feel." 

Wow, he really does know what you're thinking, it's kind of scary. 

"Alright! Alright," you sigh, leaning forward. "I'll talk to her, but-" 

"No. Shut up," You laugh again at his abruptness, "You said yes, so you have to do it now. And by now, I mean NOW," he waves his hand as if to shoo you away, "Get the fuck off my property."  

You stand up, you can't believe you're about to do this. But before you leave you you’re about to voice a doubt in your head, "What if-" 

You shouldn't be surprised to get cut off yet again, "Y/n, man. If you don't leave right now. I will get violent," with his threatening voice you scoff and shake your head. 

As you start to walk away you pause before continuing and turn back to him, "Thanks Dan," He stopped himself from heckling you again when he heard what you were saying, "For everything, really. You're a great friend." 

"Bitch, I know. Now get outta here before I hose you down." He says, then takes a sip from his bottle. 

You walk with renewed vigour in your step. 

You were really going to do it. 

You are going to tell her. 

… 

As you get to Taylor's house, instead of letting yourself in, you knock. It wouldn't feel right to just walk in. Not with what you have to say. 

Looking at your shoes you don't have to wait long before she opens the door. Your head flies up and when she sees you, she smiles. You automatically smile back. 

"Hi," you say uneasily, hands balled into fists in your pockets. 

She doesn't understand why you look nervous, so her greeting comes out as a question, "Hi?" She laughs, "Y/n, what's wrong?" She looks a little worried but still has a smile on her face. 

You let out a breath, you didn't realise you were holding, as a shaky laugh, "I actually wanted to talk to you about somethin-" 

"Taylor? Who is it?" You hear a deep voice coming from behind the door making you pause. 

The door swings further as someone pulls it open to see you standing there. It’s a man you don't know. He’s holding two wine glasses, it doesn't take much to piece it together. 

She was on a date.

Your tense muscles collapse just as your facial expression does. 

She smiles at him, introducing you to each other. But you can’t hear anything. Blood is rushing in your ears and your throat feels like it’s about to close in on itself. 

The whole situation is overwhelming, you can feel your eyes filling with tears so you look away. You need to get out of there quickly, before you break down, "Sorry for interrupting, I'll leave," you hope you manage to say. 

"What? What was it you wanted to talk about?" She asks, confused. 

You’re already turning on your heels so you rush your words out, "It's not important, bye," walking away as fast as you can. 

Taylor calling out for you falls on deaf ears because you knew this was a stupid idea, you knew you shouldn’t have even thought about talking to her about your true feelings. 

You’re not sure if it's from the speed you’re walking or because of this whole situation or both but your heart is racing and your breathing picks up quickly. 

Everything is confusing but one thing is for certain - you feel yourself breaking. 

It's only when you're halfway down the street that you realise tears have spilt over. 

You finally take in your surroundings and can hear someone closing in on you. 

It's Taylor. 

"Y/n, what's going on? You're scaring me," she asks, as her brisk walk reaches you. You take a step back when she goes out to reach for you when she sees your tears. 

She's in front of you and you can’t stop thinking about her and how pretty she is. How much you feel for her. 

Your chest is heaving, your breathing heavy, the lump in your throat doesn’t ease off. 

You couldn't have stopped your next words even if you tried. You’re not thinking properly and the words you've been wanting to say for so long finally spill out. 

"I think I'm in love with you," you can't stop blinking. Whether it's to blink away your tears or from your nerves, you don't know. 

Taylor is looking at you, speechless. She always wondered if there was something in your feelings towards her but always brushed it over thinking it was all in her head. 

"No, I-," you scrunch your eyes closed for a second taking in the fact that you're really saying this, "I am in love with you," you finally say your truth, looking her in the eye. 

All the blonde can do is stare, bewildered as you look at her. 

You've gotten this far, why should you stop now, "I've loved you for a while now and I didn't know what to do so I kept it to myself." 

All the times you held back has led to this moment where you can't stop rambling, "I came here to tell you, but now you're on a date with someone and I-" 

You've lost count with how many times you've been interrupted today but this time it was because Taylor's lips were on yours. 

It takes a second for your brain to catch up to what's going on but eventually you kiss her back. 

You pull her in by the waist as her hands cup your cheeks so she can fully kiss you. It feels eternal and you're kissing her like your life depends on it. 

You both need to stop for air, breathing heavy. 

"It isn’t a date, he's a friend of Nicky's," you rest your forehead against hers, scoffing at how ridiculously you acted with your overreaction. 

You pull back again so you can look at her properly. She's smiling. She's smiling so brightly that she could be compared to the sun. 

You take your time looking at one another so you can take in this moment. 

Even with how fast your heart was beating and the loud rush of blood still in your ears, you hear her say the words you could have only dreamed her saying before now loud and clear,

"I love you too." 

A/N: Thanks to Reddit for ‘Dung nugget’ and to @8bitscarlet for the French fry joke lol

#taylor sloane #taylor x reader #taylor sloane x reader #taylor sloane x you #taylor sloane x y/n #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x y/n #self insert fanfiction #no more interruptions tag

[gabessquishytum]

Some sort of au (within canon verse or a human au) in which Hob met Orpheus first and are the best of friends. He’s incredibly curious about Orpheus’ fascinating family, and eventually gets to meet some of them; his wife Eurydice (lovely woman, Hob’s nearly as close to her as he is to Orpheus), his mother Calliope (living her best life now after having gone through a bad patch unrelated to her amicable divorce), his aunt Death (complete chance that Hob got to meet her, during a break in her busy work).

The one he’s most curious about though is Orpheus’ dad Dream; his friend talks about him the most, the guy sounds like an interesting man with an interesting life doing interesting work, and from Orpheus’ stories he seems like he does his best to be involved in his son’s life despite his busy schedule. And yet Hob’s never seen him at any event or party that it would make sense for him to attend.

Finally Orpheus admits that he’s been purposefully keeping them from meeting, because he knows Hob, and unfortunately knows that his dad is exactly Hob’s type, and he just doesn’t feel like dealing with the can of worms that’d be his best friend sleeping with his dad.

Hob laughs at him and says that he may be a bit of a slut, but if the idea bothers him so much then he promises he won’t try to sleep with Orpheus’ dad.

So the next opportunity to meet comes around, and Orpheus graciously permits Hob and Dream to be present at the same time. Hob takes one long look at Dream, leans over and quietly says to Orpheus “I’m really sorry about this mate, but I’m going to have to fuck your dad”, and then walks over to Dream while Orpheus sighs in defeat and thunks his head down on the table while Eurydice laughingly pats his shoulder in comfort.

-🪽anon

Oh Hob. You nasty slut (affectionate).

Dream is older, of course - a proper dilf. Silver threaded through his dark hair, and a gorgeous lean body that Hob just wants. He seems quiet and reserved, but occasionally his lips quirk into the most beautiful smile, and his eyes crinkle up. Hob is smitten. If he ever had a teeny tiny crush on Orpheus, it’s immediately blown out of the water by the sheer magnetism he feels from Dream.

The problem (for Orpheus) is that Dream is just as much of a slut as Hob. He hasn’t let being a father stop him from having various flings over the years and poor Orpheus has witnessed many a walk of shame in the morning. It was great relief for him to move out and ultimately get together with Eurydice - he knows that at least he’ll never have to see his dad’s hook-ups over breakfast ever again.

(His winning streak of “not knowing about Dream’s sex life” is definitely at an end. He even gets a shirtless pic from Hob in the morning which he just knows is taken from his dad’s kitchen where he used to eat his coco pops.)

Orpheus at least figures that it will be a one time thing. Hob can get his rocks off with the old man and they can all move on with their lives. But oh how wrong he is. Because 3 weeks after the party, he gets a call from his dad. Not unusual, it’s nice to catch up. He’s almost forgotten about the whole Hob incident.

“I wanted you to be the first to know.” Dream says gravely. “And of course I will inform your mother imminently. Hob and I have decided to pursue a committed relationship. Of course it is too early to be considering marriage, but—”

Orpheus drops the phone, bless him.

Then again, he can think of worse people to have as a stepparent. And oh he is going enjoy giving a speech at the wedding. He knows all of Hob’s dirty secrets and many of Dream’s too. He’s going to get REVENGE.

#🪽anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #orpheus x eurydice

[storiesofsvu]

Love Comes Quietly Ch 1

Future Alex Blake x reader warnings: language, minor talk of fbi type situations, alcohol consumption.

Alex always felt like it was a breath of incredibly fresh air whenever she got to get out of DC for something that wasn’t FBI case related. Since the divorce she’d almost started to feel a little antsy, like there was something else she should or could be doing to take up her free time now that the house was empty. She and James were still in touch rather frequently, everything had been completely amicable after all, just two people realizing they were going down different paths in life, even if they still cared about each other, they knew their part of the journey together was over. He’d stayed in the house with her while they sorted everything out and got papers signed and figured out who things belonged to and who wanted what before he moved off to Boston to accept the teaching position at Harvard.

Which is exactly how she had found herself on the Harvard campus for a week and a half guest lecturing in a handful of different classes. Despite James being the one to make the original invitation it was Daniela who’d convinced her into staying for the full week. They’d worked together at Georgetown when Alex had first started teaching and were hoping to finally be able to play catch up in between work hours.

Alex had done one lecture already today, using the free time before lunch to poke around the campus a little bit. There were more than enough interesting places, including a handful of bookstores that were home to a lot more than text books and required readings. She wandered the aisles, skipping the non fiction, she had enough of those kicking around the house already. She slowed a bit through the fiction books, though her face grimaced at the mystery and crime novels, there was no need for those, she saw enough of that in her every day life. The last thing she needed was to come home from a case and have that be her bedtime reading. She slowed when she hit the romance section, it was cheesy, she was the first to admit it, but sometimes they just hit the spot, a pleasant over dramatic sappy distraction from real life. Her secret guilty pleasure, if you will.

Her fingers trailed along a couple of books, nose scrunching when nearly all the covers featured a broad chested half naked man. Something, rather a person, caught her eye a bit further down the aisle. It was as if the two of you were both trying to outwait the other before going for the books you actually were interested in. She surveyed you out of the corner of her eye, you were old enough she knew the chances of you being a student were unlikely, especially considering you didn’t have any kind of bag with you. Key ring dangling from your fingers, bulge of your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. You were dressed just on the brink of business casual, but not nice enough that she thought you were a professor.

She watched as your lips moved into a tiny grin, as if a fond memory was waving through your brain and you reached out to the shelf, picking out a book that she recognized the cover of, ‘Love Letters. 2000 Years of Romance’. You flicked through a couple of pages, eyes scanning the text with a little smile on your face before you flipped the entire books worth of pages and she just knew you were inhaling that new book smell. You turned the book over, reading the dedication on the back before slipping it back into its place on the shelf.

“Oh now that’s a good one, it’s not a put it back book.” The words left her lips before she even really realized she was saying them. You practically jumped, despite being more than well aware there was someone else in the aisle with you, looking up to her as you laughed softly.

“Oh! I know, I’ve read it, one of my faves. My copy’s just getting a little worse for wear.”

“A little wear and tear means a book’s well loved.” She smiled softly, “my copy usually lives on the bedside table.”

“Perfect bedtime reading.” You smiled and for a moment you thought she was going to turn back to the shelves but she looked you over briefly.

“You’re… not a student here are you?”

“What gave it away.” You laughed, “and no, just..” you checked your watch, “waiting for a friend to finish a lecture. Need an expert opinion on something.”

“Anything I could help with?” She asked and it was your turn to survey her, the blazer, shoulder bag no doubt with at least a laptop and lecture notes in it, the smudge of white board marker on her right hand.

“Dunno, what’d’you teach?”

“Well, technically just guest lecturing this week, but linguistics.”

“Ah…” Before you could comment that you were waiting on a friend who taught forensic science a man popped into the end of the aisle, a small grin on his face as he wandered down to her side.

“Now why am I not surprised to find you in the romance novel section?” He greeted with a tease and her cheeks tinged pink as she turned to him, “ready?”

“Yes.” She nodded in your direction and you gave her a little salute once his back was turned before you turned back to the shelf of books in front of you with a soft sigh, checking your watch once more. You didn’t have long before you had to be back at the office, you were hoping Daniela would hurry the hell up. Letting out a little groan you rolled your eyes, maybe if you met her at her classroom this wouldn’t take as long.

**

Considering it was Friday, Alex shouldn’t have been surprised when she was roped into after work drinks and snacks with Daniela and a few other friends. She was at least thankful that they’d ended up off campus, not wanting to be plagued with students or follow up questions from lectures during the week. City Bar Back Bay was the perfect place for them, a trendy lounge tucked away in the corner of a hotel on Exeter Street. There were cocktails, a few glasses of wine, a jug of sangria and plates of chips, cheese, soft pretzel bites and more spread across the table for everyone to share. Everyone’s spirits were lifted at the knowledge it was the end of the week, laughter and conversation flowing easily throughout the small group.

“So?” Daniela questioned, nudging at Alex’s arm, “how’re you liking Boston?”

“You ask that like I haven’t been here before.” She replied with a laugh.

“But now you’re teaching here… and at Harvard, nonetheless. That’s gotta be at least some kind of bonus points.”

“Daniela…” Alex eyed her with a chuckle, “I didn’t move here when my husband suggested it, I’m not going to uproot my life just because you hate having to do certain parts of your lesson plans.”

“Yeah.” Caitlin cut in from her other side, “I keep telling you to just hire a TA.”

“Maybe I just prefer having a friend come to town a couple of times a year.”

“You’re lazy.” Caitlin replied, stealing a chip off her plate, “where’s Murphy? She mention bailing or anything at lunch?”

“No, she said she’d definitely be here. She’s probably caught up at work.” Daniela turned back to Alex with a near whine, “c’mon… what about splitting the year? Half in DC, half here?” Alex laughed, affectionately rolling her eyes.

“Two weeks at a time is my absolute max. I love my job, and as much as I enjoy teaching, it doesn’t jump higher, I’ve spent way too long working to get where I am.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Daniela waved her off with a playful groan, she was about to say something else when a voice rung in from behind her.

“I am so sorry I’m late!” You swept in quickly, hand on her shoulder as you leant around her from behind to kiss her cheek before dropping into the open chair at the head of the small table.

“Yeah, where the hell have you been?” Daniela asked.

“Ugh.” You rolled your eyes, “turns out when you kill someone there’s an extra forty five minutes of paperwork.”

“Should I be concerned?” Alex’s ears had picked up the words, turning back your direction with a tease in her voice and a laugh on her cheeks, pulling a loud laugh from Daniela.

“No, Murphy’s FBI.” She explained.

Alex’s eyes met yours from across the table and a tiny grin split your lips as both of your heads tilted in recognition from the bookstore that afternoon. You’d changed half your outfit from then, no doubt wanting to get out of work clothes, button up swapped for a cotton tank while the blazer was replaced with a plaid flannel, your hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, soft curls swaying as you turned your head to glance back to Daniela.

“Y/N, meet Alex Blake.” She gestured between the two of you and you extended out a hand that Alex was quick to shake.

“Oh!” Your eyes widened, “Professor Blake. I’ve heard wonderful things.”

“All lies I’m sure.” Alex chuckled with a smirk.

“There’s an Agent in there somewhere too.” Daniela teased, pouring out a glass of sangria to slide over to you.

“Don’t forget Doctor.” Caitlin cut in, snagging another treat from Daniela’s plate.

“Three titles,” you mused, “now that’s impressive.”

“Gives me a nice rotation depending on who I’m talking to.” Alex joked with a shrug and you chuckled.

“So linguist in one column.” You ticked it off on your finger, “gonna take a stab in the dark and say PhD in the next.” She nodded, “but what department for the last?”

“Behaviour Analysis Unit.”

“No fucking way.” Your arm dropped to the table, a little harder than you’d intended.

“What?” Alex asked with a small laugh, taking a sip of her drink.

“I just put in papers for an application to fill the open spot on that team.” You laughed, “I’ve got an interview with an Agent… Prentiss? Next week.”

“Oh thank god.” She let out a huff of a sigh, “we’ve been too shorthanded for too long. I was barely able to get away for this week.”

“Okay, I’m grabbing another pitcher.” Daniela grabbed the empty jug of sangria from the table top, hopping off her chair and Alex was able to slide into it to continue the conversation with you.

“So you’d say there’s a decent chance then?” You raised a brow over the rim of your glass.

“As long as Prentiss thinks so.”

“Is she a hard ass?”

“No.” Alex laughed, chewing on her lip for a moment, “she’s…. driven, loyal, passionate, has high expectations but also incredibly understanding. If you look good on paper things will probably look good, but honestly to her it probably matters more what you manage in person.”

“How so?” Your head tilted, “obviously it takes a particular type of person to be a profiler, but you’re hinting at more than that.”

“Nicely done.” She nearly smirked in your direction, “our team is a family. I know most places when you hear that term it’s a red flag you should run for the hills, but that’s not true here. We spend more time together than with anyone else, our secrets and pasts come out when we’re getting into the minds of unsubs or trying to talk them down. There are things my team knows that some of my closest friends of family have never been told, and that makes us stronger, makes us work together even better.”

“Hmm.” You nodded, sucking back more of your drink, “good to know.”

“You said your interview’s next week?” She asked and you nodded again, “I get back on Tuesday, I’ll be sure to bring your name up to Emily.”

“That’d be amazing!” You beamed, eyes widening with excitement and Alex smiled softly back at you.

She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but even from the very brief moment in the bookstore earlier she already knew that she liked you. Something was simply drawing her to you, like the universe wanted you to know each other, that you were meant to cross paths. After all, you’d already done so twice in one day without even knowing the other existed when you woke up that morning. Now that you were actually getting to spend some time together the two of you clicked instantly, falling into conversation like you were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. There was no awkwardness or weird small talk, just laughter and little jabs as if you knew exactly how to tease the other person without offending them. She knew deep within her that she had met someone that day that would be an integral part of her life, no matter how the interview ended up going.

Alex was about to elaborate to you when Daniela came back to the table with a tray in her hand and a wicked grin on her cheeks.

“It is time for shots!” She shrieked and Alex rolled her eyes.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Alex, c’mon.”

“Yeah!” Caitlin joined in, passing shots from the tray to the table, “I mean we do have a reason to celebrate after all!”

“Exactly!” Daniela high fived her, winking in her direction before raising a shot glass in Alex’s direction, “we didn’t get to celebrate your divorce when it happened, so now is as good a time as any.”

“Daniela!” Alex half scolded half laughed and the other woman simply shook her head, pointing to the shot until Alex huffed, picking up the glass and you followed suit. Glasses clinked together before liquor was sunk back, little winces echoing through the group.

“Okay!” Daniela shook it off, “that’s the liquid courage I needed.” Her eyes searched around the bar, “try to find myself a man.”

“On it.” Caitlin scooped up their drinks, handing Daniela hers before the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

“You know you’re more than welcome to join them.” Alex prompted, her hand squeezing at your arm on the table top and you laughed.

“That would require me being interested in men in the first place.”

“I’m sure there’s a few nice girls out there too.”

“Meh.” You replied, sucking back at your drink, “not into it. Besides, they invite you out and then bail? Rude. I mean…” you glanced across at her, “unless you’d rather bail too, hit up the guy from your lunch date?”

Alex couldn’t help but bark out a laugh at that, her smile reaching her eyes as she looked back to you.

“That was my ex husband.” She laughed, “we’re still good friends, just, no longer in love.”

“I’m sorry.” You frowned slightly.

“Don’t be.” She shrugged with a smile, “it wasn’t anything hurtful or sad. We got married young, we’re both incredibly passionate about our careers and we spent a lot more time working than together. Things simply… fizzled out.”

“I’m glad you’re still friends.”

“Me too.” She smiled warmly back at you and the two of you slipped into an easy conversation.

Two rounds of drinks later and Caitlin had disappeared from the bar with her conquest while you and Alex were still trapped in an endless conversation that neither of you wanted to halt. Even when Daniela would swing by every so often to check in she could tell that the two of you were clearly fast friends and there was no worry about her leaving the two of you alone any longer. So she took full advantage after another tequila shot to bite the bullet and see if the man she’d been flirting with wanted to go someplace else.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, having not connected with someone like this in what felt like years and Alex would tell you she felt the same. She had just finished a story when your phone buzzed on the table top and your face fell when you glanced toward it.

“Got a case?” She asked, knowing the feeling all to well.

“Not now.” You sighed, sucking back the rest of your drink, “but my weekend is officially no longer a weekend. Gotta report to the office at nine tomorrow.”

“Ugh.” She grimaced.

“Yeah.” You huffed, sliding off the stool, thankful at least that Daniela had taken care of the tab already. “It was really nice to meet you Alex.”

“Right back at you.” She smiled softly.

“Night.” You smiled, giving her a little salute.

“Hey!” Her hand wrapped around your wrist when you were a mere foot away, tugging you back and you raised a brow in her direction, “can’t just leave without my info.”

“Oh?”

“I want to know how that interview goes.” She dug into her pocket, pulling out a business card to hand off to you, “I was serious about thinking you’d make a good fit to the team. I’ll send a text to Emily in the morning, put in a good word.”

“Thank you. Really.” With a smile, you pocketed the card, “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”

“I’m sure it’ll be good news.” She assured with a grin, watching the joy spread through you as you finally did turn from the table, waving goodnight to her once more before you vanished through the bar door.

____________

@svulife-rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @leelizzzle @mysticfalls01 @evilregal2002 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @prentiss-theorem @happenstnces @whiteberryx @heidss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss l @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @theclassicgaycousin @kalixxa @leftoverenvy @bigolgay @rustyzebra @aliensaurusrex

#alex blake #alex blake x reader #criminal minds #alex blake criminal minds #love comes quietly #criminal minds fanfic #alex blake fanfic #alex blake series

[boliv-jenta]

Follow on from Summer Schooled

No outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

WC:2.2k

Summary: After ten years, Joel decides it's time the two of you caught up.

Warnings: protected P in V sex. Oral f!receiving. A little angst. A brief mention of cancer.

Adult Education

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Masterlist

Every time the door opened your heart pounded. Joel was always running just a little late for everything. It was going on ten minutes past your arranged meeting time. He had to be there soon, unless he'd rethought it. Was it crazy to be meeting up after ten years?

It was never your intention to leave it this long. The month after you left for college your mom had some bad news. Cancer. Fully treatable. The best outcome anyone in that position could ask for, but it wasn't quite covered by her health insurance and with you at college it made sense to downsize. The news shook her so much that she decided to get back in touch with your aunt and mend a log standing rift. With the house sold she bought a small apartment near your aunt, a couple of hours away from you. Which was a blessing, you were able to stay in school and still be there for her. 

Joel kept in touch to offer support. He was a rock for you when you needed it. A stress reliever at other times. Your fingers buried in your cunt took the place of his cock as he guided your pleasure. Then life got in the way. Calls and texts became less frequent. Joel's business took off. His brother, Tommy, moved home and helped him take the business further. You landed your dream job straight out of college. It led you to your husband. Things were great until a few years in when you realised that you were two very different people. The divorce was pretty amicable. Being divorced at twenty-eight drove you down memory lane to see if you could spot where you went wrong. 

That's how you stumbled upon Sarah. All grown up and doing well. Travelling Europe and living her best life. A deeper dive showed her at a BBQ. Joel's face looked back at you. He hadn't aged much. A few greys and laughter lines made him look even more handsome. From the looks of it, you weren't the only one that thought so. The woman he had his arm wrapped around looked at him like he hung the moon. A little digging and you saw a post about their wedding anniversary. It shouldn't have made your stomach churn like it did. 

Life moved on. You moved on. Joel moved on. Even Dave finally divorced Carol. That had come as a shock not as much as when he swung by once just after you left and caused a stir at a party. A bunch of sorority girls had a bet on who could fuck the hot older man first. They all spat feathers when Dave left with you. He also got you in trouble with your new housemates by waking them all up with the noise of your bed shifting across the floor.

Still feeling nostalgic you messaged Sarah and told her how happy you were to see her living a good life. A friend request from her followed and the two of you caught up over messages. 

One morning there was a message you weren't expecting. A message from Joel.

Sarah tells me you're doing great. I'm glad. I'm glad to hear your mom is still well, too.x

It sat there for most of the day as you tried to sort through your feelings. Over the years you'd thought about the brief relationship you had with Joel so many times. Eventually, with the help of your therapist, you concluded that Joel had been your first love. There'd been no actual relationship or a break up so you had never really moved on. It took a while but you worked through it. You put that summer and all the unanswered 'what ifs' in a locked box at the back of your mind. Then a single message from Joel smashed the whole thing open sending shrapnel through your body, it opened up old wounds as it went. Deciding to truly put everything behind you, you typed out a polite reply.

Thank you. She said you're well and the business is doing great. I'm happy for you.x

Thanks. We're doing pretty good. We've actually just landed a contract in your neck of the woods. About an hour out. Maybe I could swing by and see you.

That would be the stupidest thing for you to do. God knows why you typed I'd like that.

With an exchange of phone numbers you set a meeting around the corner from your place.

The door opened again. After all the disappointments you weren't expecting him. In he walked, looking somehow even better than before. His hair was peppered with greys. A dress shirt stretched over those still impossibly broad shoulders. Dress slacks covered his thighs that looked even thicker. It literally took your breath for a moment. You had to pick up your jaw to return the smile he gave you upon spotting you.

"Hi." He leaned in to give you a small half hug.

"Hi." Your hand rested on his back for the briefest of moments before you pulled back. He smelled of expensive college. A woman's touch was doing him good. He was a far cry from the jean clad, body spray wearing single dad you knew.

"Sorry, I'm late. I had a meeting run over."

He gestured for you to sit before sitting across from you. "That's the reason for the get up too." He undid his top button before rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. You had to remind yourself that he was married. "That's better. You want another?" He nodded to your almost empty cup.

The fresh cup that Joel returned with provided a handy barrier to hide some of your awkwardness behind.

"I'm glad we could catch up." You plastered on a smile.

"Me too."

"How have you been?"

"Good. You?"

"Good."

Silence.

"Fuck, this is awkward." Joel laughed out.

"Yeah."

"Was this a stupid idea? I just…I don't know, I had the opportunity to see you again…"

"No, I wanted to see you. It's bound to be a little awkward. The last time we met we…" had toe curlingly good sex that I've never been able to beat "...and now it's ten years later and we're having coffee like old friends."

"We are old friends aren't we?" It was a light, teasing comment but it broke you. You were never friends, he was always so much more.

"I'm sorry. I can do this." Grabbing your things, you made a break for the door.

As if you'd stepped into a movie, the light rain came down in sheets. It washed over you like your emotions. Being there with Joel you were suddenly eighteen again. All the knocks you had taken for the last ten years were healed. You were hopeful, open to all the possibilities that life had to offer. Possibilities that included Joel. Happily married Joel. Who would never be yours.

Joel was jogging behind you to catch up. "Hey, at least let me give you a ride."

"I'm two blocks away. I'm good. Just go home, Joel. This was a stupid idea."

"I'm not going to leave you upset on the street. Let me walk you home."

Since you couldn't exactly stop him, you let him walk alongside you in silence. The rain pummelling you both until you were both soaked through. Joel kept up with your hurried pace even as you climbed the steps to your town house. "This is me."

"You know you can talk to me right? What's got you like this?"

"Joel, I can't. Not with you. I worked so hard to forget."

"Forget what?"

"How I felt about you."

You were wrapped in his arms and kissing him back before you realised what was happening. Your lips moulded to his like he was your only source of oxygen. 

"Joel. Stop. We can't."

"I'm sorry." He pulled away dragging his hand over his face. "I just missed you so damn much. I know it stupid to be hung up on some brief fling. Fuck. I have two ex-wives that I miss less than you." He paced the small alcove outside your front door.

"Two?" 

"Yeah. I got divorced a little over a year ago."

With no-one else standing to get hurt, you threw yourself back into his arms. The next ten minutes passed in a haze of grabbing hands, wet skin slapping on skin and ragged breaths. Everything was done on muscle memory as you made it through your front door. The two of you ended up on the floor. You barely had the presence of mind to grab a condom from your purse before Joel was inside you chasing a high for both of you, his fingers working over your clit. It was all over as quickly as it began.

Laying there breathless on the floor, reality finally caught up with you both. The two of you instantly burst out laughing. 

"Well. I wasn't expecting that today."

"Me neither."

"No regrets?"

"None. Well, maybe the floor. I'm getting old." Joel shot you an incredulous look. "Old-er." You corrected with a smile.

Tucking himself away he held up the condom. 

"Kitchen." You waved your hand towards it.

"This is a nice place." Joel came back to peel you up off the floor.

"Thanks. It was a fixer upper but I had a great contractor."

Joel grabbed his chest in mock horror. "You've been seeing other contractors?"

"If it makes you feel any better I never let them fuck me on the floor."

"It does."

"Yeah, we always used the bed."

"Smartass." He brushed his nose over yours before kissing you. When he pulled away you were looking into his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing. You want to take a shower? I can dry your clothes off." You moved to walk away.

"Hey." He caught you by the waist bringing your back to his chest. "This wasn't just a fuck for me. I mean it when I said I've missed you. For years I tortured myself with what could have been. I understand if you don't want to see where this can go but I think you do."

Leaning back, you let him hold you. "I do. I just don't think I could take you breaking my heart. Not you."

"That's the last thing I want to do, Darlin'." He kissed your neck and pulled you even tighter to him. "I can't wait to get to know the person you have become."

"I'm pretty much the same. Type A need for organisation. A bit of a dreamer. Life's just beat me down a little. I'm a lot more cautious."

"A little caution is good. I'm just glad you had none when it came to me and Dave."

"Dave! What's he doing?" You span in his arms to face him.

"Let's get you into something dry and I'll fill you in."

"I'm gonna order some take out. You hungry?"

"Oh yeah." He growled nipping at your ear. "Food sounds good, too."

By some miracle you managed to be dressed when the food came. Joel had dropped to knees in the shower and had himself a feast. When your legs couldn't hold you anymore he reluctantly agreed to get dressed.

"I swear that guy always lands on his feet." Joel finished up telling you about Dave divorce. It was Carol that filed once the girls were old enough. They still came together for the holidays. Dave was still a hands on dad. Dave kept himself busy with a string of woman half his age. The only shocking revelation was about Dave's job. "The CIA? That was Dave's 'government job'? Wow."

Joel went on to drop another bomb on you. "This will be our fourth job together. He might be an ass sometimes but I can't fault his work." Dave had gone into private security. If Joel's clients needed a secure system he called Dave.

"I remember the two of you worked very well together." A grin spread against your wine glass.

"Oh you do, do you? Dave was your first after all."

"Don't remind me. I can't believe I did all that!" You visibly cringed.

"I'm glad you did." He held up his glass in a toast.

"Me too." Your glass clicked against his.

When both your glasses were empty, you offered Joel another. "I can't. I have to drive back down in a little while. I have a few early deliveries to take in the morning." He saw your bright face drop. "I can be back tomorrow afternoon. If you'll have me, I can stay the weekend? I'll take you out on a proper date."

"Sounds perfect." Rounding that table, you sat in his lap, lazily making out until he had to leave.

Laying in bed that night, you just couldn't switch off. Your brain buzzed with so many questions and possibilities. Your body still hummed from Joel's attention. The renewed memory of his touch ghosted over your skin. When your phone buzzed your heart leapt at the fact that it could be Joel once again after all these years.

The text came from an unknown number.

Miss me? I'll catch up with you soon.

Series tag: @popcornforone @myrealmofchaos @casa-boiardi

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #no outbreak!joel miller #joel miler x f!reader

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

slight au where team russia worked a little faster and eddie and max make it out scathed but alive, unlike vecna who finally got his comeuppance

eddie and steve have an unnamed thing in the months after eddie gets out of the hospital but without an earthquake wrecking hawkins, eyes are everywhere and rumours are hard to kill in a small town and eddie's sick of the way they're all being treated. he thinks it's all because of him, thinks it'll fix everything if he's not around, thinks steve deserves to find his wife and have his nuggets.

so eddie runs away in the middle of the night, just leaves a note for wayne with a promise to call and hitchhikes to cali with his guitar and not much more than the clothes on his back. he works hard and makes it big with his band, they win awards, sell out arenas, front magazine covers but eddie just takes it day by day. time passes without him really recognising its passing, just going from one gig to the next. another town, another state, another country. they've travelled the whole world by now and although his bandmates make a big deal out of birthday's, another trip around the sun eddie! whenever he thinks of home, everything and everyone are just as he left them.

it's the late nineties, eddie and wayne sitting on opposite ends of a phone line having their monthly catch-up when wayne casually mentions that he's going to a divorce party on the weekend. eddie laughs cos parties aren't exactly wayne's scene to start with, but eddie misses small town drama so he asks who at the plant got divorced? and wtf is a divorce party anyway?

and wayne knows he's fumbled the ball in a big way but all he can do at this point is just explain and eddie's sorry but... what?!

steve's getting a divorce! eddie's steve? eddie didn't even know he'd got married! he knows The Party are still close and that when eddie had been dragged into their weird little group, wayne had too. he knows that they keep a good eye on wayne, that he's still one of them.

and wayne was true to his word with not updating eddie on their lives because he knows if he'd heard any of it he'd've come running home immediately but wayne's getting on in years and this little bit of info just sort've slipped out.

so now, guess what? eddie's booking himself a flight because how can he miss this now that he knows it's happening?

so steve's getting drunk surrounded by all the people who love him. he and tina ended things amicably enough, she fell in love with robin and what was steve supposed to do? he could hardly blame her! tina and robin despised each other, had from the moment steve introduced them but robin was going through some work stuff and she'd needed a break. so steve had twisted her arm and she'd come to stay for a month and well, shit happens! they hadn't crossed any boundaries, robin wouldn't ever do that to him but the mother of your kids being in love with your best friend kinda puts the kibosh on your marriage.

it was dustin's idea, the party, he thinks steve needs cheering up, which he probably does because he'd had everything he'd always dreamed of and now his life's in a shambles for the second time even though he's only in his early thirties. except eddie, blast from the past, love of steve's life, took steve two solid years to get over him, steve's eddie, showing up unannounced (because gatecrashing is just eddie's way of not having to deal with all the nerves he's been feeling since he stepped into lax) kills the party.

everyone's furious! steve's drunk, thinks eddie's an hallucination but dustin takes a swing at eddie, which is sobering to say the least. hop's yelling, wants to drag eddie outside "i just wanna talk, i swear!" luckily for eddie, joyce and murray know him better than that. max is ripping him to shreds, erica's hyping her up and no-one is brave or stupid enough to get in their way.

and eddie's only just now registering that it might've been a terrible idea to just drop in on people you trauma bonded with and then abandoned over a decade ago and wayne's trying to gauge whether he needs to get his nephew the hell outta there or whether it's best to just let it play out and steve might be hammered and in a state of shock and eddie might deserve everything max is saying but he just can't stand there and let it happen.

so steve grabs eddie by the wrist and drags him outside and no-one follows because they all think it's fair that steve gets first crack at him. except steve isn't all that angry, he might be tomorrow, but right now he just tugs eddie into his chest and wraps himself tightly around him.

there's a thousand questions they both want to ask, things they definitely should be talking about but eddie just melts in the circle of steve's arms. he's forgotten why he ever left this space, where he can feel steve's heartbeat and smell the cologne that he still wears and that underlying something that's just steve. then steve squeezes him tighter and sighs so heavily it seems the whole world is on his shoulders and all eddie wants to do is drop everything and help him carry it.

"wayne let slip, huh?" steve says instead of something normal like hello.

"he didn't mean to," eddie defends even though he knows he doesn't need to. he'd seen the hug they’d shared before he'd waltzed in, even though they're all older than eddie thought possible, nothing about The Party has changed.

"sorry about your party," eddie mutters. he does feel bad for ruining their good time, he doesn't know now why he thought he could just pick up where he left off. steve just shrugs, huffs a laugh into eddie's hair

"you're a much better surprise than the strippers they’d booked for me anyway," steve admits. and eddie can't help himself he starts to laugh, it starts off with jiggling shoulders and escalates until there's tears running freely down his face. it wasn't even that funny, the absurdity of this situation isn't even that funny, it's all just... it's a lot.

"jesus h christ! i've missed you," eddie says when he's calmed down enough to speak.

"i missed you, too," steve confesses with such a raw honesty it gives eddie pause, makes him pull his head away from steve just enough to see his face.

"really?" eddie's a little awestruck but he tries to keep his voice level, he fails miserably.

"yes, really! what you thought you'd disappear and we'd all just, what? forget about you?" steve scoffs, looks into eddie's eyes, really looks and then rolls his own "oh my god! you did, didn't you? you're unbelievable, eddie munson! why'd you think the kids are so mad with you?" steve asks remarkably calm. must be a dad thing, eddie thinks because the lump in his throat prevents him from speaking, he can only shrug, "because they love you, you idiot! and you abandoned them but they still love you. dustin waited for two hours outside your indy concert before realising he was waiting outside the wrong door and that you'd already gone. poor kid was a mess for a week!" steve sighs heavily, cups eddie's face, wipes away the fresh tears falling down eddie's cheeks with his thumbs.

"you're not mad," eddie croaks almost accusatory, misery filling him because the one person he wants to love him, the one person he's never stopped loving, is holding him, yes, but thinking about it eddie would've been happier with the fury dustin had shown him because dustin's mad because he loves eddie but steve isn't mad at all.

steve smiles, tired and a little soppy, kisses eddie on the forehead and pulls him back against his chest.

"not yet, but i've no doubt in the morning i'm gonna be livid. you better still be here to see it!" and it's the first time there's been anything warning in steve's tone, it makes eddie hold him tighter.

"i'll be here," he promises. eddie's tucked so closely into steve's chest he doesn't hear his uncle approach, doesn't see the smile he and steve share over eddie's head. wayne knew eddie was safe out here with steve but The Party's getting antsy.

"time to face the music, boy," wayne can't fight his grin when eddie turns in steve's hold, like he used to when they were young and eager to head to bed and wayne would say "those dishes won't wash themselves" and eddie would huff and fuss from the confines of steve's embrace, being dramatic for the sake of it. other than a change in hairstyle and a few new lines on their faces, wayne doesn't see any difference.

eddie grins when he realises that steve is equally reluctant to let go, propping his head on eddie's shoulder and holding him close, they both make puppy dog eyes at wayne, except wayne isn't about to cave like he would with the dishes. his friends are furious but they love him and they're worried that steve's murdered eddie already.

except wayne knows there's no safer place for his boy to be. steve's spent many a night in wayne's trailer, reading through articles, watching award ceremonies, listening to the albums eddie sent to wayne. sleeping in eddie's old bed, both when eddie first left and even more so recently, not that either of them have mentioned that to the others. it's a secret exclusively for the two people in the world who love eddie munson the most.

wayne gives eddie a pointed look and eddie sighs, nods to himself, he can do this. these people love him deep down, even if they don't like him very much right now.

"ready, big boy," eddie teases waggling his eyebrows at steve, who laughs and calls him an idiot affectionately. eddie classes it as a win. steve gives him one last squeeze, reluctantly letting go as the three of them head back inside but steve's hand never quite leaving the small of eddie's back (even when dustin tearfully tackles eddie into a bearhug) might be the best thing he ever could've hoped for.

and eddie thinks that maybe, just this once, his inability to fight his impulse control might've finally worked in his favour.

#i don't know what this is #adele was on starstruck last night #someone like you inspired #this was supposed to be a funny little something something and just kinda morphed into this #i think it wrote itself #steve's divorce party #eddie's in a band #idk if it's corroded coffin #i'll leave that up to you #dustin and max are mad as hell on their big brother's behalf #dustin's also hurt that eddie left without saying goodbye doesn’t mean he doesn't love eddie to death #wayne and steve are eddie's biggest fans #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #the party #st au s4 fixit ig #aj writes

[morthyew]

shadowgast headcanons

in the many years caleb and essek travel together through aeor, the extradimensional tower no doubt truly becomes a home to them, a melding of their lives, no matter how gracious, courteous, and personally reserved as they may be with how they share the space.

a guest for even six months is no longer truly a guest. i imagine the vast majority of their tome is spent together in study, but the amount of casual magic in that home, especially as they got comfortable with each other, would truly be astounding.

nested extradimensional pockets to organize spell components, dabbling in metamagic simply for fun, creating increasingly intricate and elaborate expressions of cantrips, switching magical aesthetics for a day just to surprise one another, the possibilities are endless.

essek’s purple clothes are covered in cat hair, and even if frumpkin starts the night curled up with caleb, he’s curled up in essek’s lap once he eventually settles down to meditate. he doesn’t mind the levitation, and essek doesn’t notice it’s happening until it’s far too late to dissuade him.

caleb reverse engineers the levitating glide behind essek’s back and springs it on him one morning to show off. it starts an arms race of mastering each other’s specialities, and with the notable arcane advantage in the levels essek has on caleb, caleb acknowledges, laughing, after a while that he may have poked the bear a bit soon for him to impress essek. essek replies that he’s always impressed by caleb and no doubt they smile at each other in silence for an unconscionaby long period of time.

they absolutely develop an entire nonverbal style of communication, only speaking because they want to, to pass the time, or to talk about magic. their shared workspace (they no doubt each have at least four: one separate each, one shared, and one for volatile experimentation by either) is neat and covered in papers and organized and chaotic and incomprehensible to anyone and perfectly legible to them.

if you know any couple who have higher ed degrees in the same field, it’s very similar. they try not to but they rapidly completely forget what the baseline level of arcane knowledge for any normal person is. they encounter a sixth-level abjurer and accidentally talk theory ten levels above them like it’s cantrips. they have strong opinions about the places where their theoretical approaches differ, and any arguments may suddenly veer wildly into arguments on theory.

i feel like they do have such deep respect and affection for one another that they rapidly become so aware of one another’s boundaries that lines simply aren’t crossed anymore. they need to undress in the same room for some reason and caleb simply turns away while essek removes his clothes down to his undertunic, and it’s a non-issue.

they also have long, in-depth conversations about morality whenever one of them has a trauma nightmare or reminder. neither of them have many answers or even many words at some times, but they talk and talk and talk about what is right and how someone can know what is right, how shame warps people, how regret is impossible to let go of. it’s always very late at night over food or a drink, and they never dwell on it long after that conversation.

they’re happy, for the time they have, even though they always know it won’t last. they also have the slowest jane austen slow burn while also seeming always on the verge of a first kiss while also like they’re recently amicably divorced but still in love with each other.

#cr #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek theyless

[jigenstits]

Apology now for this being long and kind of Sappy.

I was thinking about Zenigata’s alleged divorce and alleged daughter we never see, and like. On the one hand I understand why the fics I’ve seen take that for angst and run with it but. But. I had the thought of how Lupin the 3rd has a lot of themes about how to handle having a legacy to follow and all that. With Zenigata having a famous ancestor too I was just thinking about how he was probably pressured to marry and have a kid.

So he follows the advice he’s given by people around him and marries his best friend. They’re both in this awkward position with family expectations and try to make things work. But after his daughter is born Zenigata realizes pretty quickly he loves his wife/bestie but isn’t in love with her. He feels bad, and tells her as much, she admits she feels pretty much the same way.

Amicable divorce, and Zenigata is actually a more present father than people would think. He sends care packages and post cards and while he won’t take off his own birthday he takes her birthday off every year. (Lupin does not do heists the week of her birthday when he figures that out. Not that he’s telling Zenigata that.)

Not saying he’s the most present father. Just saying in my mind, if he’s got a kid he’s around more than people would assume.

Gets along great with his Ex-wife/bestie and her new spouse.

And that all leads into my Aromantic Zenigata Hc.

This man is filled with so much Platonic love for humanity and the world around him. Just so much love in his heart to give, but like everyone trying to convince him it had to be given out a specific way and him learning pretty late in life that no that’s not the greatest form of love it’s just a form of love. Love is good and great in all forms!

Sorry again about long ask, I just had the thought and had to share 💛

oOOO yesyesyesyes

#personally i dont hc him as aro but hell yeah anon #loving the idea of him being a somewhat present father #like he tries his best n thats what counts #hed be a good dad i think #//txt #//hcs #//inbx #zenigata

[lordkingsmith]

Billy Cranston canon and au children, adopted and otherwise.

WOW they tried hard to get this character paired up with a girl. There are so many potential girls. If I miss one please let me know. I’m adding adoption because we know while Minh is his co-ward by way of Zack…they basically adopted her. She’s basically their adopted kid.

Canon children of Billy Cranston:

Minh Kwan. Aged about late teens, probably seventeen at most. She still is legally taken care of by Billy and Zack after all. Minh is the orphaned daughter of Trini that Billy and Zack co-parent. He and her definitely seem to have a lot healthier relationship after the movie. She’s a yellow ranger, like her mother. Technically I should put her name Kwan then middle name then Minh but I don’t think her middle name’s been revealed? And when I find out Trini’s I’ll fix that as well

Alternate reality children of Billy Cranston:

Marge (last name unknown);

Marge and Billy were the two smartest people in their school, and Marge asked him out to one of the school dances. They were both sent to the dark dimension when a monster, Madame Woe, mistook Marge as a power ranger. After, Billy continued seeing her because he felt bad. They ended up with a son, Jordan Cranston. Seventeen. His parents are separated and he doesn’t see Billy. Terrified to tell his mom he’s gay. His entire life is plotted for him, and while he’s brilliant he’s feeling a little bit….stifled. He’s been spending time with the punks of his high school and might be falling hard for a red ranger. Which is illogical because he’s never even seen his face. Jordan sells answers and helps people cheat. Not because he needs to, but it’s the only way he knows how to rock his life off the carefully plotted course it’s on. Easier said than done.

Violet Arias;

Violet was Billy’s high school art class partner. She was another one of the smartest kids in their school, and was very kind. Although they fell out of contact for a few years, they interned at the same company, and reconnected. One thing led to another, and they have two kids, a house, and a very friendly relationship. They decided not to get divorced until both of their daughters, Indigo and Lavender, were eighteen. They’re still good friends so it’s not like it’s a super big deal, after they talked it out.

Lavender, aged 16, has brought her girlfriend over on more than one occasion. The only big problem was the fact the girlfriend is a vampire. Billy and Violet had to, on top of comprehensive sex education, subject the two to comprehensive blood sharing education. Lavender is a vegan and very artistic. She’s fascinated by Rita and her putties, to the panic of her parents. Lavender is honor roll, A+ type student. She’s preppier by far than her younger sister. Constantly doing things on purpose to make Indigo leave her room. Such as turning off the electricity when she knows Indigo needs to get out and has saved her stuff. Aka big sister notices little sister js doomscrolling and does something about it. Lavender is not associated with a color.

Indigo is fourteen. She’s figuring herself out. She’s too smart for her own good, and is very hacker punk. More rebellious than her sister, and likes thinking she’s smarter than her dad. Billy is constantly left a bit flabbergasted at the audacity of his tiny child. Everyone who knows them considers this hilarious. She’s just like him, down to the glasses. Indigo wants to hack into the morphing grid however, and that’s a bit concerning. Indigo when she gets older will be a yellow ranger. A very very snarky yellow ranger.

Laura (last name unknown);

Laura and Kimberly were both scoutmasters for their Angelette troop (power rangers version of girl scouts). Billy was hoping to get data on a rare solar storm, and he and Laura began flirting. Billy and Laura got together, and then shortly after a kid, got divorced amicably. Turns out, Laura and Kim were a better fit in this reality, as well. Laura and Billy's single kid is William Cranston, aged 24. He wants to be a weather man and is going to school for it. Being a meteorologist has been his dream since forever. He's a green zeo ranger. He gets on fine with Billy, who never remarried, and his step mom of Kim, who adores him. Mild mannered, but he's not the kind of person to forgive easily. once he's been wronged in a way that would completely break his trust, that's it. He's done. It makes it difficult given an ex is also a teammate. Billy's a great source of advice for William, and very helpful in William's career. He's always offering ways to balance his civilian life and his work life, and gadgets to make his work life easier. Doesn't always work, but it's appreciated. Kim is also helpful in William's life, and he enjoys going on hikes and things with her. He appreciates his mom and Kim sat him down and asked permission once they were ready to properly date. It meant a lot. Of course the answer was yes, and he considers his step mom as a good friend. William's considering he might maybe be a little bit bi. for a villain. which...well. weirder things have happened to him.

Cestria;

Solaro Cranston is 25, and a very unusual hybrid. the Aquitarans were unsure if this could even be a thing, but Cestria (later realizing he was more of a Cestrio) and Billy decided to see anyway. Surprisingly, human and Aquitaran genetics are compatible. Solaro has some Aquiraran features, such as the face spotting, and needs to stay hydrated, but he's more human than Aquitaran. He spends his summers on earth however, with Billy, who is an interplanetary dilplomat with his now fully transitioned husband. Solaro is not associated with a color, but he is good friends with the legacy rangers. He's never been chosen by a color, but doesn't feel left out. Almost as smart as his parents, but like Cestrio he wants to be a healer in some form. Is working on getting into medical school. Billy is super proud of him. He and Cestrio are also considering a second child, but via other means, and Solaro is slightly weirded out by this but is overall supportive of his parents. Often gossips with Minh when he sees her. He quickly adopted her as adorable little sister.

Trini Kwan;

Minh, in this reality, Billy is the unnamed father. Minh and a younger brother, aged 10. Hao and Minh go to live with Zack after Billy inadvertently gets their mother-his wife-killed. as of course, he tells them the truth. Even after, they don't forgive him, but Minh does somewhat reconcile. Hao, however, needs time. Nobody blames the kids for not being able to forgive, least of all Billy.

Kimberly Hart;

Kimberly and Billy made a pact in early highschool if both of them were single by the time they were thirty, they'd get together. Incredibly, this happened. They have one son, Waylon Cranston. Aged 18. Waylon is a blue ranger and a gymnast. Not interested in romance or a lot of friendships, he's more goal oriented, and that means he's got a forty four step plan on becoming a gold medalist and the youngest geneticist in the world. For his own good, Billy actually suggested he see if Mighty Morphin Blue or Pink or...any color...work. Blue likes him. Waylon hates this but it's getting him out of his head and forcing him to learn how to be a team player. Still not interested in romance, but hey, nothing wrong with that. All Billy and Kim are happy over is that he's talking to people.

Zack Taylor;

They adopted Minh together basically. But in an alternate reality they got married and have two adopted kids, Harlow, aged 19, Selena, aged 17, and one kid by surrogate, Dylan, aged 9.

Harlow was adopted by Zack and Billy when he was seven, and is the first kid they adopted. He and the senator bonded over a shared love of music, and breakdancing. He bonded with Billy a little bit later over Billy mentioning that like Harlow, he used to have a fear of fish and water, and it was fine feeling irrational fear. Harlow tries really hard to make both his dads proud. He's got a lot of pressure he puts on himself. He's a perfectionist. Everything has to be perfect all the time. Billy's the first to try to get him to see the beauty in sometimes things just...not...being...perfect, and it's okay if he's not immediately good at things. Tommy Oliver is his favorite honorary uncle, and is a huge help with how he feels and living in a family. Is the blue ranger, alongside Selena, who is the orange ranger (there is no pink on their team).

Dylan was born a couple years before Selena was adopted. rambunctious kid. Gives his dads a heart attack all the time. His mom was Aisha, and his dad was Billy. There were long talks about it, but it was actually decided by a coin flip because Aisha could see they were psyching themselves out, and were going to talk themselves out of a choice they very much wanted. So she took charge for them. They love Dylan, and Dylan loves his dads, and his brother, and his sister. He likes music and playing pirates. He's one of the smartest kids in his grade school class, but Billy and Zack want him to make friends, so he's not allowed to jump a year. He does get supplemental lessons by both of them, though, so he doesn't stop being curious. Not associated with a color.

Selena has a lot of self doubt about being in this family, and doesn't get why Billy and Zack keep going to bat for her. They go to bat for her because they see in her a lot of themselves, and a lot of Tommy. She's a cheerleader at their school, and does baby sitting as a side job. She struggles to feel worthy of being the orange ranger, but she likes her new brothers, and she likes her dads, and she likes being able to show some of how grateful she feels back to them.

In a small variation, Minh would come live with all three of them as their sister and yellow ranger.

Jason Lee Scott;

Jason and Billy weren't actually expecting to get together; this kind of just. Happened. Jason's dad disinherited him, and Billy's parents welcomed Jason in with open arms. They've been together since Jason came back and became a scuba instructor. Billy became a science professor, Jason is still a scuba instructor. They have two kids, one adopted and one was a magic spell turned oopsie baby. Jackson is adopted, but not human. He's a Xybrian who ended up on earth after a freak accident with his parent's ship. He's purple haired, and Billy and Jason offered to take him in until a good Xybrian option could be found. No better options were found. He's 27 but still going to school as lifespans of Xybrians are far far longer than humans. He halves his time. school year is on Xybria, breaks are on earth. Extremely protective of little brother Zachary, who is seventeen. He does find it a bit of a whiplash, going from non psychic society to planet full of them, but he's adaptable. Is interested in becoming a cartographer. while associated with purple, he's not interested in being a ranger as of right now.

Zachary was intended to be something entirely different than what he is. Vile created the perfect copies of Billy and Jason's strengths and combined them. Unfortunately, this was what they themselves considered their strengths. Billy's intelligence of course, but his sense of fashion as well. Jason's fighing skills yes, but also his adaptability, and his sense of humor. Vile deemed this a failure, but instead of a spell destroying the young man, he got turned into a baby due to quick thinking from Zack and Rocky. Billy and Jason figured since he existed, they'd just raise him. He's fairly well adjusted, excitable, and really passionate. A little bit of a himbo, a little bit too smart for his own good too. not associated with any color. He was named Zachary Rocky Scott in honor of the two who managed to keep him alive.

Tommy Oliver;

After surviving the world of the coinless together, the two got very close. Tommy was the first person Billy came out to, Billy was the first guy Tommy went all the way with. They have one daughter. Her name is Amanda Oliver. Aged 19. Amanda is adopted, and completely spoiled by her dads. She wants for nothing, and she loves them back deeply. She's a karate instructor, and a power ranger mentor. She's got a really open relationship with her parents, and trusts them to trust her, and they do. A little bit of a heartbreaker, finds it difficult to lie, loves science and kids.

Eugene Skullovitch;

After being best friends as kids, then not, then sort of friends, then maybe more...they have two kids. Charlie Cranston, aged twenty two, and Oscar "Skid" Cranston, aged twenty. Charlie and Oscar are both via a science experiment, where Billy combined his and Eugene's genetic codes in a randomizer, to see if anything would happen that was viable as a sperm and egg equivalent. Yes, he got permission for this from Eugene. He sold the patent, and lives happily with his and Eugene's kids. Charlie is a blue solar ranger. She has been since she was seventeen. Billy didn't know at first and when he found out....he grounded her for not telling him. Then came back thirty minutes later, apologized, ungrounded her, and told her to be careful. Eugene doesn't get it as much but he's trying, he really is. He worries more than Billy, though Billy does often find himself staring up at the stars on late nights with tea in his hand, knots in his stomach and hoping he sees his daughter for Christmas. It's different, somehow, when they're in space and not in town.

Oscar is friends with a Bulkmeier, of course. He's the family "problem child", in a general sense. The prankster, and he's super smart. He is mild enough nobody really thinks he's as smartass and clever as he is. His entire motivation is cause as much chaos as possible. He used to prank his sister once a month until she left, and he's the one who let slip she's a power ranger because she was thrown through a building in front of him. She didn't know he knew, and he's been apologizing since via no more pranks, and gifts. so many gifts. Her favorite foods, updates on her favorite bands, jewelry she'd like. He doesn't have to but he feels bad. This was the closest they ever got to the family splintering. Trini, Zack, and Jason do their best to help the three deal with Charlie in space. Oscar works as a janitor, isn't really interested in dealing with school or anything. He likes doing his hobbies while having a stable job.

variation; they get together when he helps Skull with his newborn son. Spike takes care of his little siblings, and helped Oscar get his nickname and his current job. Billy is eternally caring to his adopted kid, and does the best he can by Spike.

variation 2; Charlie becomes Charlie from A Team. This time, Billy DOES ground her. she never hears the end of it

Matthew Cook;

When Billy loses his ranger status and goes to work for Grace, Matt is also there as the green ranger. Billy keeps his distance for a while; the guy is more or less a massive dick. Especially over something that wasn’t Billy’s fault. Billy’s also not taking pot shots at his friends or Zordon over it with Matt. They start dating after the War, and Matt’s final betrayal. More because he finally wore Billy down, but Billy had a good time hanging out with him again. And then both of them had the rude realization at the same time of “I am attracted to this man-fuck he noticed-oh he’s into it” which snowballed. They adopted one kid, and had another via help from alien technology mixed with a little magic. Nora, aged 26, is a professional hockey player. Matt decided he was going to support her sport even if it wasn’t his sport. Billy quickly developed a love of baseball at one of her events when she was little. Mostly because this game is ridiculous. Though he does worry about her on the ice. A lot. They adopted her when she was five, and she’s loud and enthusiastic and very rarely is she ever sad or genuinely upset. Her opinion on things is mostly “be friendly at it or challenge it to a fight” and generally speaking the options work enough she’s never needed to figure out other plans of action. She met her wife during a game. She’s from an opposing team. Nora gave her a concussion; she knocked Nora’s front teeth out. This was par for the course and they bonded in hospital. Billy’s still trying to figure out HOW. Matt thinks it’s hilarious. Is the green dragon ranger. She is legitimately feared by most and can solve most problems without suiting up. The threat is enough.

Their other child is Abner. He’s socially transitioning, he’s 18. He wants to be a writer. He and his sister have a very loving if slightly antagonistic relationship. When Abner came out to her, Nora’s response was “well now you don’t need to steal my clothes. Give them back” which lead to an argument but not the one Abner was expecting. They negotiated the clothing situation. Abner’s not giving back a pair of boots; they look way too good on him. Matt and Billy both support him. Matt sometimes slips up with name, however he’s quick to correct himself. Billy helped Abner choose his name, and was the first person he came out to. Abner is a little self conscious about his looks, and about his public image. More in regards to if he’s going to make his family look bad. Like Matt he tends to brood and focus on negative details way too much. Like Billy he tends to strive for perfection and his vocabulary makes it hard for people to understand him.

-

if I missed any of the many many love interests/head cannoned/forced romantic possibles, please let me know! I will add them as I see them

#I feel in my gut there’s twice as many women he’s been forced with #I can’t remember them and I don’t want to trawl through every single episode #but I will add them as needed #also I feel like Billy would have at least two with the girls because he’s….stubborn #he feels nothing once okay he’s going to try again #oh shit maybe this isn’t for him #but yes there’s a couple only children #purely based on how much I like the character #I’m so sorry #vibes are deciding this

[hchollym]

Would Bill and Fleur's divorce be ugly or amicable? And how would the Weasleys react to it? I just know Molly would blame everything on Fleur, even if it was a mutually agreed divorce.

In response to this post.

Good question! 😄

I think it could go a lot of different ways, but my gut tells me that it would involve an affair, and that would definitely not be amicable!

I personally tend to think that Bill would be the one to have the affair. Bill started dating Fleur when she was just out of high school, and throughout their relationship (that we see in canon), Fleur acted very much like a lovesick teenager:

Fleur walked over to stand beside him [Bill], giving him a soppy, slavish look...

&

“’E is always so thoughtful,” purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill’s nose.

Bill likes that attention. So what happens when they've been married for a while and that stops? Fleur would still love him, but at some point, she's no longer going to look at him like he's a god.

Then, I imagine Bill goes looking for an ego boost in a younger woman who will look at him like that (in the same way that many men have affairs with women who aren't necessarily better looking; they just make the man feel better about himself).

I can also imagine Bill getting bored with family life - he loves his wife and kids, but he's missing the excitement that he grew accustomed to, so he goes looking for it elsewhere.

It's certainly possible that Fleur could be the one to have the affair, because Bill isn't meeting her emotional needs (which I definitely see happening, given how passive he is and the way he doesn't defend her to his family). She could try to find that fulfillment in another person, but I just tend to doubt it.

Regardless, if one of them has an affair, it's not going to be pretty. They are both incredibly proud people, which is just going to exacerbate the betrayal and heartbreak.

If Fleur is the one that cheated, she's not getting any support from the Weasleys (who never particularly liked her anyway). 😢 Some of them (like Percy) may feel some sympathy for her situation, but they'd never say it out loud for fear of being ostracized from the family.

If Bill is the one that cheated... well, Fleur's still not getting a lot of support. She'd get a little more (from people like Percy and Hermione, who - despite her dislike of Fleur - is disgusted by Bill's actions), but I think most of them (like Fred, George, Ron) would simply stay out of it, while others (like Ginny and Charlie) would probably even defend Bill and try to justify his actions.

Molly would definitely defend Bill, and she would blame Fleur for not being a good enough wife to her precious baby boy. After all, Molly's husband never cheated on her, so clearly Fleur was the one doing something wrong. 🙄

If an affair doesn't happen, then I think the divorce would mostly be amicable (albeit very awkward), and most of the Weasleys would stay out of it and not take sides, but Molly would always blame Fleur, no matter what. 🤦‍♀️

Thanks for the ask! 😊

#ask me #anon ask #anti bill x fleur #anti molly weasley #weasley family critical #hp #post canon #my thoughts #my headcanons #my opinions

[2dayihaveaheadache]

I glow pink in the night in my room

It's Obikin time again. I know, I wrote another AU yesterday but this draft was just irresistible, I found it in a pile of other drafts and cleaned it, cut the edges, clearing the hidden gem it is. So, enjoy!

A Break in Their Day - David Hettinger American, b. 1946 (insipired a scene in this story)

AU prompt: Obi-Wan is getting divorced, ex-wife Satine (maybe? choose whatever char you think would fit, 'not the most amicalable divorce'-ish), he looses himself in the process, make him miserable, (down bad coping habits, smoking, a night out with Vos, something in that line, nothing too bad, treat him tenderly). So, he drives back home, Xmas-rom con style, (Hallmark-ish but not too cheesy), great reunion with the fam (please single parent Qui-Gon!) and then meets his great love Anakin. Give them some sort of happy end!

(thank my roommate for that prompt, and yes, that is word by word how she sent it to me. She loves her Hallmark romcoms.)

I glow pink in the night in my room.

Obi-Wan lives through the divorce but he loses three things: his condo in Fort Greene, his social circle of the last decade, and their cat – his beautiful, beloved Arfour. He is not thrown out like some stray; Satine isn’t that kind of person and she isn’t heartless, no enfant terrible. He can stay, she offers with a friendly expression, that does not reach her eyes, one hand gripping the other tightly – until he finds himself his own apartment he can stay. She even offers to give him a hand financially. 

It is NYC, he adds mentally. It will take ages. Momentarily they can continue in their living situation, spending their evenings together like they used to, like friends before they became a couple – she stresses. 

On Wednesday takeout from their favorite Thai around, when both of them run home late, Mango sticky rice, Panang curry, and fake, greasy Wan Tan wrapped in tin foil, which Satine loves with all her heart. Every time Obi-Wan runs over the street to the tiny shop, half past ten, they already know the order, just handing him two steaming plastic bags. 

Bucatini Pasta on Friday. The Trattoria da Paolo is a lot more elitist and pretends to be the perfection of every cubist’s dreams. The inside is a cuboid made of white-washed concrete walls and a lot of glass, the former construction metal peeking through the concrete in a sense of beautified industrial style for people like them, that have never seen a factory from the inside but still idealize it from an aesthetic perspective because goddamn, a manufacture-like building can be pleasing to look at if it is designed by a multimillion-dollar architect. 

And on Sundays Brunch with Mace and Depa, a befriended married couple, they meet every second week. A social obligation. Nothing quite pleasant. 

They will continue as they used to, she says. Dining in the same room as the last fifteen years, drinking Chablis from the same crystal glasses, that were gifted to them over a decade ago, and setting the table with the same china, that Obi-Wan bought when he first moved out as a student, an Ikea snap.  

Everything is static. Nothing needs to change; she explains with a soft undertone – just because they have gotten a fucking divorce. 

Somehow their friends have taken her side. At least to him, it feels like they have, he thinks bitterly to himself after his second glass of Chablis. They smile at him with their paperwhite teeth like he is the casting director of some toothpaste commercial and then tell him how perfectly he and Satine have fitted together for the last couple of years, a dream team, their Emily Blunt and John Krasinski. Two stars in each other’s orbit, competing who can shine brighter. 

Then they wait for Obi-Wan to grin to assure them that everything is all right like it’s his job to do, not the other way around. So, he does, he rubs their backs, puts on his most magnificent grin, and then talks about their amicable parting. No matter what has happened to their wedding band, they are still perfect for each other.

They have always been Satine’s friends, colleagues, or acquaintances, he thinks, whom she collects like pearls on a necklace to complete her image of perfection. 

Although she is already perfect, a Wycombe Abbey graduate and human rights advocate for the International Committee of the Red Cross, considered to be one of the people to hold a speech for the UNO this year. The public adores her, what else is left for her to achieve?

And he had been – well, just Obi-Wan, a graduate of a community college, born in the middle of nowhere in Oregon, no prestige legacy awaits him. 

She needs space and time to experiment – that is her reasoning when she sends her parent’s lawyers, all armed with Mont Blanc fountain pens. They have gotten married too early, foolishly young – but she will always love him some way, she states with her red lips curved into a soft smile. 

The same expression the young girl wore, he once met fifteen years ago. Back then she had leaned over a bar counter in West Harlem, some bar with cheap lush, a glass of whiskey balancing in her hand. Her hair had been chopped off as if she had cut it herself, the bangs seventies styled, which reminded him of Stevie from Fleetwood Mac, and her jeans were decorated with feministic patches, idolizing Simone de Beauvoir, and Margaret Atwood. Absolutely charming.

She had asked him out first, a witty remark on her curved, red lips about his grandpa-like sweater, some snap from a Pittsburgh Vintage store. Then she had drowned her drink and kissed him, open-mouthed like he had been never kissed before. It had felt like he was destined to fall for her. 

After the next rendezvous, he found out two more things about her. Firstly, she was always on the run for the next riot on the street, demonstrations for women’s rights, world peace, against capitalism, the elite her parents belonged to, et cetera. Secondly, she never truly lived in present; her mind was already away on the next barricade of some street fight for justice. 

Fifteen years, two apartments and one adopted stray cat later, her hair is now cut by a professional once a month, she books online, and the pair of jeans, she usually wore, has been exchanged for a suit, unpayable for a normal wallet, tailored specifically for her, the rebellious phase overcome. 

At heart she is still the same young girl, that wanted to see the world burn, fighting against policemen on street riots – that’s what he tells himself when he returns home late and finds her asleep on the kitchen table over some court case, fighting for justice – she has just adapted, matured, become more like her parents, something he would have never guessed back then. But that’s the way of time, isn’t it? He swallows. 

Their marriage does only chain them, both of them, she stresses and tries to reach for his hand, almost tenderly, he jerks back. She wants to feel young again, going to modern art exhibitions, buying cheap tickets for movies in arthouse cinemas, illegal star gazing on some rooftop they broke into, dancing through the night to techno music – fucking feeling in love again. 

She has fallen out of love with him although she is clever enough to leave that part out, he is sensitive enough to hear it. 

So, he signs the papers, takes the Mont Blanc pen from her parent’s lawyers, and sets his name under the document, which seals the fate of his broken heart, biting his lips. 

That night he finds a pack of smokes, bought ages ago, probably back in his twenties when he was still a student, half buried under a vintage copy of Stephen King’s The Last Stand, a book Satine hated for its apocalyptic content. He lights himself a smoke and hunches over the railing of the balcony. It had been her fucking idea, the condo in Fort Greene, the balcony, the cat, the entire status quo – and now it will be hers again. 

Then why does it hurt so much? 

He stares up at the dazzling night sky. The scene could be romantic if it would be shared, perfect for a Hallmark rom-com, he thinks to himself bittersweet. Or it could be painted by some artist of romanticism. Casper David Friedrich. The wanderer over the sea of fog. He nips his cigarette between his lips and breathes in the tobacco. For the next minutes, he only coughs, throat burning, suppressed tears of months streaming down his face. 

Nothing so romantic about that.

=

The next months come, the snow melts on the streets and the first green decorates the trees of Fort Greene. Half a year passes and Satine stays to be right like she always does. No changes happen. It is like Fortuna is Satine’s goddess, her word is law, and luck blossoms along her way – at least to him Satine seems to be happy. 

They smile at each other at the evening’s dinner table with stifling Smalltalk about their work. “How was your day?” “Good.” “Nothing stressful?” “Just the usual.” 

They smile at their cat when they pet it as if they have not talked about split custody before. They smile at Mace and Depa at their usual Sunday Brunch while eating brioche and French butter from Ladurée Soho. They smile at his parents-in-law at their monthly visit, drinking Tea in a painfully expensive café and talking about how wonderful it is to live in NYC, pretending to be happy even though it hurts deep inside. 

They smile at Satine’s charity events; he puts his arm around her shoulder and she gives him her hand. The paparazzi take photos of how perfect they look together. The next morning it is all over the press. The NYC dream team strikes again. The only thing missing is their wedding band, but nobody seems to notice. They see what they want to see.  

Satine and him, they do everything the way they normally would, following their strict schedules, Satine fighting in court and him teaching at university. Happy and successful together, a true power couple, everyone is inspired by their achievements. 

They attend his annual faculty party and Satine does it perfectly, dressing up in a red slip gown, laughing at his colleagues’ jokes, presenting her public persona of charming Satine, whom everybody adores and makes them tell him how beautiful his wife is – even though she is not his wife anymore. The word slips so carelessly over their tongue, marked by years of practice. Then his colleagues apologize, pad him on the shoulder and say that they still seem happy together.  

They are in modern times, you still can be together as a divorced couple, right? Obi-Wan nods and smiles painfully. 

They attend his parents in law golden wedding and this time it is his turn to behave perfectly. He wears the tailored suit, Satine picked out for him, and the watch, a Christmas presents he hates for everything it stands for a tedious status symbol but it does its job, making her parents happy. He jokes around with the guests, old-fashioned, sexist jokes, that taste bitter on his tongue. He talks publicly about his research and brags about his Ph.D. from Oxford – just as Satine wishes him to do, flaunting their happy and successful lifestyle into everybody’s faces. 

The next morning, he struggles to come out of the bedroom. She sees it, she ignores it. They do not talk about it. 

So, all they do is smile, talk, and pretend. They even smile in court like it is a contest, who can smile longer and brighter? Who can persuade more people with their smiles? Who can convince the public better, that they have been fine after the divorce? – it had been a mutual decision after all, hasn’t it?

Each day he applies a new layer to his masquerade of being perfectly fine until he feels like there is nothing else left of him inside the shell – but that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? He feels like wax from a candle, something she has molded more than ever into the perfect husband. As if now that he lost it, he tries more than ever to be him. 

His smoking habit becomes worse. He can recognize it on her face, the slightly scrunched nose, and she can smell it on his clothes. He waits for her to ask him to stop. She never does. 

So, he smokes on the balcony, a pack a week. He pets his cat, the same kitty she wanted to get. He kisses Arfour on the head, sleeping in the living room with her curled in his lap, afraid of what demons will await him in his bedroom, the empty bed staring at him daunting. Light still lingers under her threshold, he wants to know what she is doing, tell her how he is feeling, and tell her that he is a mess inside. But he does no such thing. 

Another half a year later, he resigned from his job, cleans his office at Columbia, bides his colleague goodbye, and packs the cardboard boxes into his Bentley, leaving everything else in the fucking condo in Fort Greene – after all it’s not his anymore, it hasn’t been his for a long time. He toys with the thought of driving back, thumbing the key angrily on the kitchen counter, causing her the same pain, she had done to him. He shakes his head. 

A fresh spring wind hauls through NYC when he decides that it is time to drive East. 

=

Driving East means coming home. Oregon. The tiny town of fucking Tatooine.

He does not call Qui-Gon because he can’t stand the tears that will run down his face if he does. He is an emotional wreck and all that is holding him together is clenching the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white, feeling the wind on his face from his window as he passes the streets. 

Homecoming. He tries the words on his tongue. Homecoming. He has not been home since his last year of high school.

Two days and one night in a cheap motel later, he pulls the Bentley over. His neck is aching from the long drive when he drives past the town sign of Tatooine. He pushes down the brake pedal to look around, noticing the differences between his childhood memories and the present.

Everything is like it used to be: there is still the gas station right behind the town sign decorated with spray paint, where he bought gas for his first junk car, which he had owned with barely over eighteen. Qui-Gon had helped him scrap it together, it was his father’s present for Obi-Wan’s graduation. Just a few meters down Mainstreet there is still the old barn, where he and his friends would meet up, drink their stolen lush, smoke their cigarettes, or kiss and make up for the first time – he can still feel their hopes and dreams clinging to that place. 

They had felt on top of the world back then, invincible like only teenagers could, that had not been hurt by the world yet. 

And somehow the town has changed too: The old VHS store, always lit by 80s-looking neon lights, is nowhere to be found. Instead, a new convenience store has taken its place, a glass cuboid with a green logo. So, there will be no more borrowing Child’s Play and getting scared to sleep alone at night, Obi-Wan chuckles. No more sneaking into Qui-Gon’s bed and no more midnight peanut butter jelly sandwiches to cheer up his mood. No more sneaking into the adult section as a dare. No more flirting with the cute girl behind the counter and totally embarrassing yourself. 

He pushes down the accelerator pedal, ignoring his burning eyes. Old and new puzzled together as he passed the streets and new buildings, a patchwork of memories and slate-grey asphalt. Only a few remnants have been left of his childhood, but what did he expect? Just two blocks until he will reach Qui-Gon’s house. He bit his lip and clenches his hands around the steering wheel. 

The town hall has been renovated too, the 70s-style building has become modernized, glass and concrete greeting him as he drives by. The High School is still the same grey cuboid that reeks of purgatory. From the car, he can make out the hockey field and bleachers. At seventeen he spent a good chunk of time there, writing or sketching in his notebook – or secretly watching the team train on the ground, sweaty jerseys clinging to toned upper bodies in summer. His first boy crush had been awkward, unreachable, tinted by anxiety and internalized homophobia, and the end had been misery, crying his eyes out in bed for a week straight. Qui-Gon had been helpless. 

He turns his head away and concentrates on the street again. Just a few blocks then he will see Qui-Gon again. Nausea creeps up his gullet. He stops the Bentley in front of his childhood home and lets the engine rev one last time. 

The grass lane needs to be mown; he thinks as he watches the house from afar. There is still the apple tree in the garden, where once a swing hung. Qui-Gon had installed it so young Obi-Wan could play outside while he harvested his vegetables in the garden. There are still some of them left, salade, carrots, and Qui-Gon’s favorite herbs. From the street Obi-Wan could recognize a couple of wooden boxes of beehive huts hidden behind the lush green grass, seems like Qui-Gon had started a new hobby, that would fit him. 

The white picket fence desperately needs to be colored again but Qui-Gon never really cared or better said, detested the image of a perfect suburb family connected to it, so the crumbling paint fits him better. He had always loved the mood of vintage, the nostalgia clinging to it. The kitchen window is open and some 60s pop is played somewhere in the house, probably a record player. The Zombies, Obi-Wan realizes and smiles softly, a vinyl he gifted his dad. 

Obi-Wan steps out of the Bentley and walks the last step towards the door. He rings the bell. 

The Qui-Gon, that opens, is different. His long grey hair is tucked away into a low ponytail, held together by a leather band. A few white strands have appeared at his temples and he wears machine-oil-stained jean overalls, that smell as if he has just tinkered in the garage behind the house – but most importantly, he looks at Obi-Wan like only a stranger could, confusion is painted on his face. 

The other man clears his throat, hesitantly raising his hands to Obi-Wan’s face as if he wants to touch it, feel the difference, and then jerks back as if he has burned himself, turning away from his son. 

“Obi-Wan… God, it must have been ages.” The voice sounds old, strange, and pained like it hasn't been used for ages. Obi-Wan averts his gaze and looks down at his wingtips. The leather is worn out and the stitching needs to be repaired. “Hello, Dad…” 

=

Qui-Gon offers Obi-Wan a cup of tea as they stand silently in the kitchen. 

The kettle boils on the gas ring and the older man thumps down two mugs on the kitchen counter, both handmade. The green one is taller than the other and the clay is uneven, shaped by a kid’s hands. Obi-Wan crafted it in kindergarten and Qui-Gon has ever since proudly used it as his go-to tea cup. An old Father’s Day gift. A bright, yellow sun is painted on top of it, stating “Tomorrow the sun will shine” in the cranky handwriting of a preschooler. 

Now Qui-Gon hesitates for a moment as he realizes what cup he has pulled out of the shelf. He looks over his shoulder to Obi-Wan, offers a weak smile – almost shy like you would smile at a stranger, not your long-lost son – and then drops the tea bags into the mugs before pouring the hot water over them. 

The tea tastes stale, green tea from the convenience store nearby. Nothing compared to the morning brew Obi-Wan buys for himself in NYC Chinatown when he runs the errands. Qui-Gon is not prepared for visitors, he realizes. 

The simple green tea, the brown bottles of milk from the farmers around, and the handmade cups. That is how Qui-Gon lives all by himself, austere, like an old man living by himself. He cooks his vegetables from the garden, receives pickles and silver skin onion jars from the neighbors for the winter months, and buys only the necessities from the supermarket around.

“How have you been?”, tries the older man weakly as the silence becomes palpable. He is hunched over the counter and has offered Obi-Wan the only chair in the cramped kitchen. The other one, which used to be there, has disappeared, probably somewhere in the attic or sold. Without Obi-Wan, there had been no use for it. Obi-Wan cringes when he is spoken to. 

The older man’s face is turned away, his gaze directed somewhere outside of the kitchen window, the garden, his vegetables, or the apple tree, lovelier things to look at than the stranger, that his son has become. He behaves strangely, not like the Qui-Gon Obi-Wan is used to. He behaves like a man, that has not spoken to a lot of people in the last few years. 

“Good.,” Obi-Wan speaks softly, unsure, trying the words on his tongue. No one has asked him how he was feeling since his divorce, they always avoided the topic and pretended as if nothing happened, complimenting his new publication on astrophysics, or going on about how awful New York’s traffic is. Or they offered him their toothpaste commercial smile and rubbed their hands over his back as if he is a little child that you can console with a pad on the head. 

As he takes another sip from the mug, he feels Qui-Gon’s eyes on him, calculating his reaction. 

“You drive a new car.,” says the other man, averting his eyes again. A quite expensive one is left unspoken. Not the scrap car we built for your graduation. That one is gone too, isn’t it? 

“A Bentley.,” Obi-Wan explains, nodding softly. “A wedding gift from my parents-in-law.”  

Qui-Gon looks at him for a second, one lip between his teeth. Hurt flashes his expression before his face becomes stoic again, pain hidden in his grey eyes. Then they continue to drink their tea, too many broken promises hauling in the silence between them and no one dares to speak a word. 

=

When the sun is about to set, they step out of the house to load the boxes out of Obi-Wan’s car and store them in the attic. “You can sleep in the garage.”, Qui-Gon explains as he opens the trunk and balances a box filled with books in his shaky arms. 

The cardboard rips open and for a second all the books seem to hover in the air before they fall down on the asphalt of the street. All the book spines are exposed. Hemingway, Atwood, Steinbeck, etc. Old Secondhand shop copies from all over the place, Portland, Philly, Seattle, New York – and Tatooine. They are used, dog-eared, and pages filled with notes and drabbles.  

“I…”, Qui-Gon stutters and kneels down to pick up a copy of John Steinbeck’s East of Eden. 

The soft cover is broken, and one corner is ripped out but the young James Dean in the 1976’s version is still easily identified, staring dreamingly into the landscape. “You still do love John Steinbeck.” 

Obi-Wan only nods and takes the book from Qui-Gon’s hand, cautious to avoid skin-to-skin contact. 

He throws it into his cardboard and picks up the other books from the street, averting Qui-Gon’s eyes. John Steinbeck was or still is Qui-Gon’s favorite author.

He stacks the hardcover of Wuthering Heights on top of the Penguin classics from Jane Austen and lines up Nancy Fraser with Margaret Atwood’s The Edible Woman, keeping his hands busy, just to avoid Qui-Gon’s eyes on him. 

“You haven’t changed that much.”, exhales Qui-Gon as if he is gasping for air, grabbing blades of grass and ripping them out with his left hand. “You’ve grown a beard to hide your dimples but they are still there.” He clenches his hands into fists, crushing the grass blades. “Sometimes things aren’t as easily erased as we wish them to be.” 

Obi-Wan just stares down at the box on his arm

It is filled with remnants of his old life, which he had tried to bury in his office, far away from Satine. Notes, Books, Polaroids, etc, little gifts Qui-Gon had bought for him. 

“Still, you are not …”, tries Qui-Gon with a hoarse voice before it breaks off and a sob escapes his lips. He is hunched over the last book in the grass, fidgeting with its pages.

You are not the same as you used to be, Obi-Wan. You are 41, have greying temples, and suddenly wear tweed jackets with elbow patches, a cliché you mocked when you were 16. You have married a woman, I have never even seen and divorced her before I could ever do it. You are a professor at Columbia and not an awkward high school student anymore, who I drove to school with every morning and who stole my wine from the shelf for a night out with friends. You are not 12 anymore and get scared of Child’s Play, so you sneak into my bed at night. You are not 9 anymore and beg me to go to a real hair salon because you are embarrassed about your bowl cut. You are not 7 anymore and hate your tooth gap. 

You are not 5 anymore and love playing with your swing at the apple tree – you are not my Obi-Wan anymore. 

It pains Obi-Wan’s heart to see the old man so desperately trying to find the right words to express his agony. He kneels too and takes the last book out of Qui-Gon’s hand, carefully, only shortly brushing skin against skin. It is Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol, the book Qui-Gon used to read to him when he was a toddler and now the older man is clinging to it as if his life depends on it. Diamond tears running down his wrinkling cheeks, fighting his voice. 

“It is fine. Everything is all right. I’ll just take my old room.”, Obi-Wan assures, hesitantly grabbing the older man by his shoulders, and pushing him to his chest, unsure, an embrace of strangers. “I’m here.” 

“You will not fit anymore. The bed is too small.”, cries Qui-Gon into the shoulder of his son, all the hardness of the years breaking down. All Obi-Wan can do is murmur a soft “Sorry” into his father’s hair, caressing him gently. 

=

Convenience store sandwiches. Obi-Wan stares down at the plastic-wrapped packages and sighs. Two Rows of tasteless bread, glued together by mayonnaise, that has already diluted into egg and grease again, and sometimes a pitiful lettuce peeking out – if you are lucky.

Still, he is indecisive, letting his hand hover over one of the sandwiches. For some reason, he keeps buying them as if they will taste any different this time. They were his normal midnight snack when everything was closed except for the 24/7 discounter a walk down his street in New York. 

In Tatooine, it is not any different. Qui-Gon has fallen asleep in front of the TV, a model from the 90s while watching some Game Show about parents guessing their kid’s lover, a ridiculous concept and yet so close to the truth. 

After Qui-Gon’s heavy breathing turned into snores, Obi-Wan picked up a quilt blanket from one of the neatly folded stacks in the living room and put it over Qui-Gon, softly as if Qui-Gon was a child. He lifted his dad’s head, pushed a crocheted pillow underneath it, and kissed his forehead. Then he went to the kitchen to scan the fridge for a possible dinner solution. Except for two jars of pickles and a piece of margarine, it was empty, after a quick search a loaf of bread was found in the kitchen cabinet. He sighed. So, he figured, he could just drive to the new convenience store and buy some dinner while his dad got some well-deserved rest.

An electric bell pings as he crosses the opened door and one look over his shoulder informs him, that he has 20 minutes left to search for groceries before the store will close, fucking Tatooine. He strolls down the aisles, scanning the rows for necessities, a shopping basket dangling from his arm. For a supermarket, that barely measures two rooms, they have an astonishing variety in their alcohol collection. A Limoncello opens it on the top shelf and two steps away a Johnny Walker Black Label is just waiting for someone to take it.

“Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan grabs a beer, pushing it into his shopping basket, before turning around. Smiling through the pain, he thinks, and the next moment shame heats his cheeks. 

It takes him only a second to recognize the man behind his back. Towering a few inches over him, still wearing his biker gang leather jacket just like in high school, grinning, is Anakin Skywalker. He still styles his hair in long loose curls, that make him look like a Movie Star from the 80s, though the roots have started to grow grey over the years, his eyes still gleaming with a friendly spirit. 

“Kenobi?”, the man asks again, this time with a crooked grin, finger grabbing a beer next to Obi-Wan.  

“The one and only.”, Obi-Wan answers. His voice sounds hoarse, embarrassed to be found in the liquor section, and the opposite of content to see an old friend again, so he pushes the basket behind his back. 

“How long has it been? Nineteen years? Too many, anyway.”, Anakin grins, grabbing himself a bottle from the shelf, no shame in his action. His eyes roam over the label, before taking another one. “I thought you moved to New York, married a nice chick, and live your best life as a rich man there.” 

“How would you know?” 

“The press wrote about it, was hard to miss.”, Anakin grins again and raises his hand defeated. Obi-Wan sighs, as if Anakin self-centered Skywalker has read articles about him. At seventeen the man had barely thought about anything else than how to get into other peoples’ pants and his motorbike, why should that suddenly change? They have never been great friends anyway, barely greeting each other when they had met in the hallways. Anakin was two years his junior. Fate had diced them up once at a tedious party, letting them share one deep conversation, nothing more. 

“Obi-fucking-Wan Kenobi, ex-president of the science club of Tatooine High, now suddenly an accomplished Physics Prof at Columbia.” Anakin lets his head fall back as laughter shakes his body, curls tangling around his sharp jaw. “We all thought you’re gonna win the Nobel prize one day, turns out we weren’t so far from the truth back then.” 

Then he turns to Obi-Wan and his smile broadens. “I’ve got an idea. This lush is shit in here, convenience store shit. Often tried it and it won’t get any better this time, wanna go out for real? For the sake of the good old times.” 

What go old times, thinks Obi-Wan. They have been acquaintances, not friends, but he lets himself be dragged out of the supermarket. 

Half an hour later they sit in an Irish Pub, Yoda’s, a five-minute walk down Jefferson’s Alley. The area around Jefferson's Alley is a seedy neighborhood with tiny houses, crammed around square shaped backyards, like tenements, and no green can be found. The houses look grey and desolate in the light of the street lamps. It’s where Anakin has grown up, isn’t it? 

As a teenager, Obi-Wan often hung around here, cycled around, played baseball in the yards with some other boys, and threw stones at Quinlan's window, a friend of his who had lived around. Now, Quinlan Vos was gone, married, a tattoo artist somewhere in Philly. He should visit him some days, thinks Obi-Wan, and focuses his eyes on his surrounding again. 

Anakin and his friend had been rather infamous around here. For hours they would be lying in wait on the lawn in front of houses, spyglasses in their hands, just to catch a glimpse of the white plaid skirts, or rather a glimpse under the skirt of the neighbor’s girls. 

The entrance to Yoda's is a staircase to the basement. Well-trod wooden steps and a time-worn railing lead the two down. The interior is filled with a cozy atmosphere, a jukebox plays in the corner, to the right a pool table, and on the left outside the bar counter, behind which stands a grim old man, a pipe in the corner of his mouth. With the deep wrinkles on his face, the man looks like he is over 80, with one carved crutch in his hand, and the other one on his pipe.

“Should I order something for you, my old friend? A Guinness?”, Anakin asks looking at Obi-Wan. He sits down straight at the counter and peels himself out of his leather jacket. It is thrown without caution over some chair nearby. The jacket used to be Skywalker’s treasure, the statement piece that dominated every outfit, his holy grail to impress every girl – or boy.

Obi-Wan only nods, testing the waters, and sits down on one of the barstools. After the grim old man taps two glasses of beer and pushes them over the counter, Quinlan turns to Obi-Wan, grinning, He grabs himself a pint, toasts it to his friend, and drinks off the foam with a deep swig. “So”, he says, wiping the foam from the corner of his mouth with one hand, “How have you been?” 

“Comme ci, comme ca.,” Obi-Wan only offers with a small grin, tasting his Guinness, not wanting to dive deeper into the topic. 

“Life is a bitch sometimes.”, answers Anakin, “I stayed here, and started taking shifts at Watto’s workshop after my graduation. I am now officially co-owner even though the old man rarely gets his hands dirty nowadays. But what did I expect.” Obi-Wan pads Anakin on the shoulder with the same pads he hates, but what else should he do to console him? He cringes inside at his inability. The other man turns his head to him and states, „You know what, I was jealous of you, all these years. You got to leave this shit hole.” 

“There is nothing to be jealous about.”, starts Obi-Wan, “I resigned last week, no longer Prof at Columbia, I’m jobless for the first time since my Ph.D. I said ‘fuck you’ to my friends, moved out of my condo and now sleep in my childhood bedroom. After living in New York for fifteen years, or any other place, you realize that all cities are the same, all the same, shit holes.” 

Anakin has laid down his head on the counter, staring at Obi-Wan from the side, one of his curls falling into his forehead, the others framing his sharp countenance. He still has the 80s movie star vibe to him, even nineteen years later with the first few grey strands and wrinkles next to his eyes. “I thought you married a nice, rich chic, living your best life there.” 

Obi-Wan shakes his head. “Divorced?” It feels weird to nod now, admitting it for the first time in over a year even though it had happened so long ago. He takes another sip from Guinness. Anakin raises his head again, suddenly stating out of the blue, “Me, too.”

Obi-Wan raises a brow, the heartbreaker fucking Prince Charming is divorced? It does not fit into his view of the world. Back in High School Anakin could have had anybody with one snap of his fingers, how does it come that he is not a happy family man now? “I mean, I married.”, tries the other man, “Everybody else did it when the time came, so I did it, too. Saw Padme again, started a relationship, and proposed when it was reasonable. 9 nine years, that was how long our happiness lasted. I am a father now.” He sighs and taps on the counter to order himself another pint.  

“Padme Naberrie?” 

“Yes. You graduated together, didn’t you? She was on the top, perfect GPA, and had endless opportunities but she stayed here and went to the Community College. Later, working here at the local hospital. A nice girl with a golden heart, my mom loved her and that is the most important thing to me. Now she is the mother of my twins.” Anakin looks sad when he adds. “Nothing more I could wish for.” 

“What happened?”

“I lied to myself and at some point, I could no longer pretend.”, states Anakin vaguely and drowns down his pint. “But what about you? Are you a father?” 

“Yes.”, he answers fast without thinking about it. “A daughter – I mean, ehm, my cat.” 

He expects Anakin to behave strangely now, be angry or disappointed, to tell him how dare he compare having a cat to having a kid as if it’s the same, but he does no such thing. Instead, Anakin asks softly. “What is her name?” Anakin uses the present form, not the past, not like Obi-Wan has lost her. Somehow Obi-Wan wants to hug him for that.  

“Arfour.” 

Laughter burst out of Anakin, which shakes his whole body. “You still love that Sci-fi series, don’t you? How was it called again? Star Destroyer? Something with Star.” 

“How do you know- ehm, how do you remember?”

“Seriously?” Anakin looks jokingly offended. “Your whole locker was plastered with stickers from it and –“Anakin grins evilly. “I remember you having a crush on the main character. You would doodle pictures of him in your notebook when you would think nobody notice.”

“But you did?”

Suddenly Anakin’s expression shifts back to sad, his lips are pinched, and his eye bags are visible like he has trouble sleeping. “As I said, I was a liar for great parts of my life. The best probably and now it is most often too late to break free with the truth. All it does is getting people hurt who have been comfortable for years, who have settled down and fought for their luck. Who am I to suddenly destroy that because I have decided to speak the truth now?” 

“Is that why Padme left you?” 

Anakin buries his face in his hands before continuing more silently. “I, ehm, I slept with men during our marriage. Most often I would meet them through my work, I repaired their cars and they flirted with me. Later I would come to visit them in their hotel rooms and they would fucked me like a common whore on the cheap bed or against the shower while Padme set at home caring for the twins. That was what I wanted, no love, just the nagging in my heart to stop, the feeling that I was missing something.”

“She found out?”

Anakin nods. “I’m sorry, I feel ashamed for it. She found out one night, found the texts on my phone, screamed at me, packed the twins, and drove to my mother. I spent that night alone in the living room, asking myself why I was so fucked up as a person, why I could not be like all the others, happily married, a content father, why I always felt like there was missing something, why I was such a liar.”

He pauses, then he continues. “You know what is the worst? She came back the next day, told me she forgave, hugged me, and let me, the bastard, cry on her shoulder. She told me that she understood me, understood why I married her, understood why I always felt absent, understood that I loved her just not like that, and that I had tried my best. She felt sad for me, not for her and her wounds, for me, that I’ve been lying to myself my whole life.” 

Anakin orders another pint. “Another one for you too?” Obi-Wan only nods. 

Then he leans close, cups Anakin’s cheeks and kisses him like Satine has kissed him all those years ago, open-mouthed with tongue and everything, pouring all the suppressed sadness of the last months into the contact. Anakin responds in the same manner. It is not tender, it is harsh, and demanding, everybody grabbing what they want from the other, Obi-Wan’s hands in Anakin’s locks, and Anakin’s fingers sneaking under Obi-Wan’s grandpa sweater. 

It grows messy quickly, threads of salvia connecting their lips, them rutting against each other like teenagers, that found out what their crotch is used for the first time, fabric rubbing against fabric. It is not about Anakin’s coming out, it is not about Obi-Wan’s divorce, and most definitely it is not about finding love in each other. It is about forgetting the pain, the suffering, the agony, freeing the emotions, that were locked inside. It is a happy, sad, angry kiss, with biting, tongue, and sometimes a moment of tenderness, when one of them needs it. 

“Your house?”, Obi-Wan asks breathlessly before leaning in again. Anakin nods and grabs Obi-Wan by the hair, forcing their mouths together.

Later, laying in a bed together, Anakin’s arm possessively around Obi-Wan’s waist, they stare at each other in silence, a silent smile on their lips, that Anakin wishes to kiss. It was Obi-Wan’s first time with a man, Anakin noticed it, Obi-Wan sees it in his face, and they choose not to talk about it. Rather, enjoying what they have as long as it last. 

=

As the sun raises, Obi-Wan finds himself in his kitchen again. “How did you sleep?”, asks Qui-Gon, taking a seat on the only chair in the kitchen, his voice high-pitched and still unsure. The old man has wrapped himself in a cardigan, blue and crocheted, the long gray hair is muddled together into a low-bun, yesterday's green cup in his trembling hand. 

"Good," says Obi-Wan, turning away from the sink to his father. 

Crockery is piled up in front of him, cheap porcelain with kitschy floral patterns. Primroses, which entwine around a single daffodil. Obi-Wan never liked the painted plates, but they have been cheap, a bargain in a Goodwill in Philly and they have been doing their job ever since. Qui-Gon liked the nostalgia he associated with them. Christmas dinner with some stubborn British great-aunt, he had, a Dolores Umbridge-like person from the outside but with a warm heart. So, Obi-Wan tries his best, puts on a crocked grin, one lifted corner, hums, and does the washing-up.

"And the bed still fits? No problems with the mattress?" asks Qui-Gon again. He has lowered his eyes, fiddling with a sleeve of his cardigan, where a hole still needs to be filled. He twirls the yarn thoughtfully between his fingers, furrowed eyebrows, too shy and unsure to look up into his son’s face. 

"No problems," says Obi-Wan, leaning against the stove, trying not to think about last night in Anakin’s bed. He turns slightly to his father; his head tilted to the side and tries to smile. It feels convulsive and unnatural, yet he assures in a calm voice, "All right."

"I woke up in the middle of the night," says Qui-Gon, continuing to stare at his hands, which are busy with the cardigan. “You were not there anymore. I thought you might have left again.” 

Obi-Wan stops moving, the dishwashing sponge hovering in the air, and the hot water continues to drop down on his skin. He clears his throat, tries to get rid of the bitter taste on his tongue, and lowers the sponge. "I was shopping," he explains and points to the fridge, "I just refilled what you were missing."

"Thank you," Qui-Gon says quietly, almost hoarsely. Again, he lowers his gaze to his hands, which play with a thread. Soon there will not be much left of the cardigan. "You didn't have to do that. I'll get along all by myself. "

"I know, Dad." Obi-Wan shifts back to the sink, his back turned to his father, absently biting his lower lip. “I know you are capable.” His voice is hoarse when he tries to speak again. “I met someone.”

“While you were shopping?”

Obi-Wan nods weakly, trying to hide his face from his dad, unsure of his reaction. “I felt like a liar for a long time in my life, stifling, chained in a corset. That person showed me the way out. I know at my age, finding true love is unlikely and it is not about that, it’s about trying, finally speaking the truth even though it might hurt yourself.” He pauses. “That Person is a man, ehm, his name is Anakin and I would like to introduce you two.” 

“I would be honored.” 

When he turns around, he can see Qui-Gon smiling, he is still shy, but it has gotten better. They are on the way; they just have to keep trying and fighting. One day, they might be able to smile like they used tp, happy, but it feels daring to say that. 

(To be honest, I have soft spot for this Obi-Wan, maybe I come back later and write more for him, grant him some more happiness. It's a draft, will be rewritten someday, maybe more cleaned, made more suitable for Ao3, let's see. Untill then enjoy!)

#obikin #sw au #sw thoughts #star wars fic #sw fic #obikin fic #obikin au #sw the clone wars #satine kryze #sorry I did not mean for you to become some sort of villian #sw fanfic #star wars inspired #obi wan x anakin #felix's weird thoughts and drabbles #obi wan needs a hug #anakin needs therapy #honestly he does even here #why did you cheat on Padme again? #don't expect a redemption arc for that from the author #in a part two you will have to say sorry #star wars au #Obi-wan deserves a happy ending #Qui-Gon is Obi-Wan's dad #this is no parenting 101 #author has no idea of parenting #obi wan kenobi #idk what to tag help #ok enjoy

[ohii-san]

yes tell us about eihiyo!!!!!

folds hands okay so . to me it's very fundamental that you keep in mind eichi and hiyori were childhood friends and they've known each other likely longer than keito has known eichi and i DON'T KNOW WHY THEY KEEP FUCKING DISREGARDING IT I HATE AKIRA anyway . i'll put it under the cut i know i am very rambly

edit; i hit the image limit i am not normal

so starting with checkmate which is translated by dreamwidth user shivalries but i have a screenshot of the wiki here no i don't how the fuck am i supposed to find it it's so far back in my gallery oh my god OH I GOT IT

it's like never stated when eihiyo meets but it's Obviously fairly young because of the way they refer to each other . i have insane bias so i put them as like toddler friends but realistically they may have met shortly before nagisa came into the tomoe family, since it's stated that the foundation is falling as of ! era meaning they were far more likely to have met years prior in its peak .

SO . let's look at what eichi says here . he says he's similar to hiyori by admitting it would be like looking at himself, and this is a sentiment they both repeat in other stories; i haven't read altered but i am so sure it probably echoes this . he also knows hiyori well enough to understand that they're not particularly amicable, nor is hiyori someone who's easy to deal with when he doesn't fancy it . additionally, in pretty mission, we get these interactions;

it's very likely the two of them attended social gatherings for high society families, which would also perhaps be where hiyori could vaguely know the himemiya family from aside from word of mouth ( it's established in a hiyori side story from ! that he has met tori before, but i believe tori says it was during his time with exfine ? )

we also get to see, in altered, that eichi is more than capable of courtesy and awareness of hiyori's false behaviors . he also says here that they've known each other a long time 🧐 fascinating . okay then . so they mutually understand one another and can't lie to each other ? sounds like something people in a FORMER RELATIONSHIP WOULD SAY !!!!!!! congrats to eichi for being the most divorced nineteen year old in the world

moving on . sorry for the poor image quality i combined two screenshots so i could add the altered one since i NEED people to see it

moving onto summer live which ummm was done by kotofucius ( a long inactive tl :( hope they're okay ) right here, but i have screenshots from the wiki saved so it's what you get lol ❤️ anyway hiyori states it's been a long time since he's seen eichi, and we know this is after the war so we can assume hiyori and eichi more or less fell out after hiyori transferred to reimei . tsumugi states ( in a story i can't recall ? may be ss ) that he keeps in contact with hiyori and nagisa, and that ibara ( <- i believe he says "that kid" or something though, referring to nagisa's roommate and partner, who is ibara ) has helped nagisa grow as a person etc etc so Why did hiyori ghost eichi 🧐 but it's easy enough to understand .

i accidentally grabbed so many screenshots but wonder game gives us a decent glimpse into their dynamic too .

i put them all side by side on mobile to save space a little but the gist of this is that eichi is . very .. aware ? of hiyori's personality and mannerisms, and feels comfortable calling them out . hiyori is someone who canonically wears a facade so imo it's very interesting that eichi calls his bluffs, points out his flaws, etc without much thought at all . they're obviously close and well acquainted no matter how much they appear to hate one another .

we see it later in summer live too, he advises hokuto almost nonstop for the trickstar/eve meeting because he understands hiyori and grasps quite well that he's difficult when he wants to be, which is exactly how he ends up acting with hokuto; really the only reason they get through that meeting is eichi's guidance and hokuto getting pissed off enough to get hiyori to respect him . a tiny bit .

also, in wonder game again, we get to see the fact that hiyori is eventually dedicated to eichi's cause despite hating him . in my opinion this is hiyori deflecting; i believe they're actually much closer than either of them admit in ! era stories ( which is Basically all i've referenced so far ), and their !! banter is definitely meant to be read as far more playful

hiyori acknowledges eichi's dedication and seems to admire it, and also shut up look at what hiyori says in summer live you will not believe this shit

?!?!?!?!?! BUT YOU PERFORM WITH EICHI AND WORK ALONGSIDE HIM . YOU DON'T HATE HIM YOU BIG BITCH BABY JESUS CHRIST !!!! ohhh my god they're so insufferable okay . i'm running out of intelligent thought but i hope you now understand that eichi and hiyori do definitely respect one another, they work well together, i believe hiyori had a crush on eichi as a child and they ( like reichi ) have insane divorced energy . their fights in !! are much more tame compared to them outright saying "i hate you" HAHAH . going back to that second pretty mission screenshot ( as i said at the top, i hit the image limit ), you can definitely read it in a way more amicable teasing kind of way . i would also like to give a shoutout to this white brim moment where hiyori smacks eichi for pretending to die and traumatizing tori . real exes behavior idk personally i wouldn't assault people i wasn't close with HAHAH i also want to mention *this* white brim moment where eichi says that hiyori has been a maid, presumably worn a maid dress also ( for him ?!?!? ) before . it's probably a reference to them playing as children but i am losing my goddamn mind at the idea of like 15/16 year olds eihiyo fucking around and making a bet which ends with hiyori serving eichi .

okay i need to shut up this has been so much please read white brim ( i haven't even read it in full ) and wonder game THANK YOU FOR LISTENING PLEASE SEE MY VISION I SPENT AN HOUR TYPING ALL OF THIS AND GATHERING SCREENSHOTS

#fan letters #glitter-penned journal #enstars #ensemble stars #hiyori tomoe #eichi tenshouin #eihiyo

[leadouttrain]

Well I've been thinking about it since you posted it so any directors cut thoughts on "one lonely star" ?? backstory / what happened next / anything...??

(okay i wrote like half of this and then it languished in my drafts forever i am so sorry)

Okay so! ols was sort of meant to be super ambiguous but i actually had a pretty good idea of who mathieeu was/what choices he had made. First, he had either gotten married or had kids right towards the end of his career. And then as he was going through the process of either retiring due to injury or rehabiliting from an injury but then deciding to retire right after his comeback Things Fell Apart. I've left it sort of vague how public it was exactly but it very much affected how Mathieu treated his family post-divorce. It also meant that he didn't really seek out media and commentating or anything like that after he retired. Mathieu still owns a stake in the team that is currently alpecin but is likely named something else, but he's by the time of the fic incredibly hands off. He's moved on from cycling, or at least the cycling currently going on! I had a vague idea he's involved in the more corporate side of cycling previously, but its also possible he just held a nothingburger position at canyon and collected the salary. Either way, he's been doing relatively little directly relating to cycling for at least a decade.

I purposely left it ambiguous what was going on with wout himself- initally I had him still be married, but then i thought there was something to wout maybe Also being divorced or seperated, but in a way that was so amicable likely most of the peleton or his compatriots didn't notice. So it's sort of left Unspoken!

In terms of what happened next, I do think Mathieu would say Something. I'm unsure if he'd say it to Wout! Wout very much put his coming out somewhere where Mathieu wouldn't find it: in a book, full of cycling images under a title that likely wouldn't interest him. And people avoided the topic around Mathieu for at least a week or two before he got confronted. But what would happen neext would likely be Mathieu rengaging with cycling as he sort of sorts out the feelings he never really named for Wout and why he associated them with the sport and all that jazz- a pretty introspective fic although there would likely be a fair amount of mathieu as a commentator putting his foot in his mouth about Something.

Thanks for the ask (and sorry it took so long to reply!)

#ask meme #inky writes #please feel free to bug me about my fics I love to ramble about them!! #and a lot of them have vague sequels/prequels that if I am bugged enough I may write