#like I’m not gonna try to change where the mail goes

[jess-abides]

This evening’s task was reclaiming the nightmare corner of the kitchen counter. It’s our catch-all - the first flat surface we encounter coming in from the garage, and I push everything down there when I need more space to cook. Not anymore! Now it’s one of my favorite spaces in the kitchen, so I’ll definitely be motivated to keep it picked up (and I’ve made it easier with the basket and mail pouch!)

#house things #kitchen lamp #this is one of my best tricks for problem areas: #make them into favorite spots instead #but you gotta make sure they stay functional for the way you move through your life #like I’m not gonna try to change where the mail goes #I’m just gonna get it off the counter

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter iv

shit goes DOWN. as y'all have probably gathered. bc. yknow. the plot of the movie. but first there's a song yayyyyyyyyy

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~2.5k

god, i love musicals.

(edit: realized after posting that i was looking at the wrong page of the screenplay while writing this and therefore royally screwed up the song structure of a world of your own but it’s fiiiiiiine)

once again, thank you mat for that interview taking a typical one-dimensional dahl villain and letting him be a more complex character. also i should probably throw a content warning on this one for depiction of a slightly abusive relationship

but i promise everything's gonna be okay soon-happy new year everyone!!

part three fic masterlist part five

While going through a time of personal growth involving trying to unravel one’s identity from that of one’s rich and powerful husband, it often happens that there are advantages to said husband being wrapped in worry over a new business rival-and, therefore, spending far more time at the office.

Wren’s favorite advantage at the present moment was that she was the only one to watch the mail come in.

Deep purple stationery was the signal she looked for-and steadily received, then returned with her own emerald letters-every day. The notes included scrawled updates regarding the operation to allow the earnest young chocolatier his day in the sun, anecdotes about the group of launderers that supported it (who she’d snuck out to meet often enough that they now felt like a second family), tales of a mysterious orange man, and exchanges of advice, witticisms, and Shakespeare quotes.

The handwriting was inexperienced, and there were more than a fair share of spelling errors toward the start of their correspondence, but she didn’t care a whit.

We’ve got the shop, Willy had written one day. For now, the task is digging through its decrepit debris and designing its decoration. (The credit for those words goes to Noodle-she says hello.) There are so many possibilities, I barely know where to start.

Start with the “why”, Wren wrote back. That’s what I always do. If there’s a piece I’m struggling to sing and I lose motivation to practice, I go back to the reasons I love the piece, even all the way back to the reasons I love the arts in the first place. Maybe there’s something in there for your shop-what made you want to share your chocolate with the world? (And hello to you too, Noodle!)

My dear Wren, came the reply, you’ve just given me the best of ideas.

He told her then about his mother and the inspiration she provided. Wren would be lying if she’d said a tear hadn’t fallen onto that particular letter.

As for how to keep him safe from the Cartel, police, and every other corrupt authority, Wren did her part by becoming Florence again whenever necessary. She acted less suspicious around her husband, leading him to be less secretive-although the gain in information was miniscule, it was better than nothing.

Felix’s rages would range anywhere from tittering, jealous rants to scheming monologues during which his whole being seemed to take on a lower, darker, more calculating tone. She’d listen carefully to all of these, tactfully calling out anything that might get him to consider he was wrong, but that had little to no effect.

Plan B, then, she’d realized, is all I can do.

So, whenever Felix seemed particularly incensed or just on the verge of coming up with how to destroy his rival, Florence would swoop in with wine and dark lipstick and a low-cut dress. She’d endure being his caged pet songbird, his doll, his perfect plaything, only because she had the growing feeling that things were about to change.

If Willy’s shop becomes successful enough to be completely undeniable, maybe the Cartel will finally acknowledge him as an equal. Maybe I’ll finally be seen as an equal, too. Maybe things will finally be truly fine.

So, night after night, she’d sit on her husband’s lap, twirl his tie, and kiss his neck until he’d forgotten the name of Wonka.

The same could not be said for her.

~

Due to just how glamorized she always had to be while in public, it didn’t take much to come up with disguise enough to be able to visit the new shop on its opening day.

With a fluttering sense of hope, Wren approached the fourth building of the Galeries Gourmet, blending in seamlessly with the sea of soon-to-be-wonderstruck passers-by. She cast a few nervous glances to the window of the Fickelgruber office, at which the man stood in his usual stance. There was no chance, though, of his recognizing her trademark ginger flame amongst the crowd; it was safely tucked under a dark, low-brimmed hat.

This could have set her mind at ease, but the fact that he looked even more smug than usual as he surveyed the ground below him made her nervous.

Did they plan something?

She was distracted from this worry by a sudden flash of color at the long-empty shop’s door. Willy Wonka stepped through, looking more himself than she could have ever imagined. He addressed the crowd with a flourish, and she marveled at his ability to combine showmanship with authenticity.

He took a skeptical older man’s arm, leading him to the shop’s entrance, and began to sing.

All at once, the shop transformed before all of their eyes, flooding with color, and the music settled into a sparking pulse that thrilled Wren to the core.

Willy grinned, fully in his element, and the doorway went dark. Gloved hands presented chocolate wonders as their creator sang them into existence. When he lit a match, the store seemed to come alive, and Wren gasped.

If his letter was anything to go by, the sight he had created was an homage to his childhood on his mother’s boat, brought to life in a way nearly too beautiful to be true.

Willy and the other man danced up a bridge of sorts as his song continued, proudly offering his shop as a world for each of his customers to call their own. Overtaken and lifted by the enchanting environment, Wren squealed with the rest of the crowd and ran into the shop, ripping the hat from her head and allowing her auburn curls to tumble freely down.

She threw her head back and laughed aloud. Her lack of makeup, and plain blouse and skirt replacing the usual emerald-colored finery, gave her assurance that she wouldn’t be recognized here; this was the closest thing she’d experienced to liberation in a very long while, and she relished it, along with the sweetly simple soar of Willy’s voice across his song.

When she looked up at him again, he was sitting on the boat that floated on the circling chocolate river, and she noticed he’d already been staring with a sideways grin. As the bassline that came from nowhere launched into a rollicking chromatic vamp, he tipped his hat to her, and she gave an enamored wave.

The second verse passed, and suddenly he’d reached her, extending a hand which she took without a second thought. He helped her onto the boat, then pulled her alarmingly close, but before she could say a thing about it, a cloud of smoke appeared around them.

Wren blinked and realized that she and Willy were now at the base of the massive chocolate tree in the center of the shop.

“How did you-”

But he only smiled and started to dance his way up the tree.

“A world of your own,” he sang, then gestured an invitation straight towards her.

This’ll be easy enough, she thought, nearly bursting with joy.

“A place to escape to,” she continued, running farther up the tree to meet him in the middle. His expression filled with awe upon finally hearing her sing, and they began a whirling back-and-forth.

“A world of your own-”

“-where you can be free!”

“Wherever you go, wherever life takes you…”

“This is your home,” she sang to him, twirling herself into his arms and beaming with pride. He’s found it-he’s created it.

“A world of your own,” they finished. He looked at her for a moment, seeming struck, then kissed her hand and disappeared through the branches of the tree to continue with the song’s bridge. She let out a dazed and happy breath, taking a moment to let her gaze roam the shop from her perch in the chocolate tree.

She didn’t know what would happen next, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t let herself enjoy this moment.

~

What did happen next was…as an understatement, not what any of them had hoped.

She wished she could say it was a complete surprise, and she wished she could have done more to stop it. The candy started having disastrous effects, the customers understandably balked, and it was clearly not Willy’s fault in the least. In a blur, the shop was in ruins, and Wren sat in shock with the little group who’d worked so hard to make it magical.

The candyman himself was devastated; not just by the massive setback, but by the absence of his mother’s spirit. Wren and Noodle sat by his side, but Abacus ushered them up. It broke Wren’s heart to think of leaving him like this-if the truest and most trusting dreamer on Earth can be broken down, where’s the hope for the rest of us?-but she somehow still felt she had to follow the group out.

She felt a hug around her waist and a held-back sob, and looked down to see Noodle clinging onto her. Wren immediately knelt to her level and hugged the girl close, finding it hard now to keep back her own tears.

“Terrible shame what-”

“Florence?”

Slowly, she opened her eyes, her breath dropping to the floor.

Slugworth had spoken first, a smooth and practiced opening to what would have turned into a gloat. The voice that had interrupted him was genuinely shaken and clearly belonging to her husband.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to Noodle, who nodded. “You can go, you shouldn’t have to see this-”

“Florence,” his voice came again, at a loss. She took a breath, stood up, and faced him with tears in her voice.

“Hi, Felix.”

Silence.

Slugworth looked with growing puzzlement between the woman and the girl, and Felix could only stare at his wife with dawning realization.

“You’ve been working with him,” he said simply, every usual quirk of inflection having vanished.

For a moment, the wash crew surrounded her in an attempt at a shield, and she heaved a breath to keep back a sob-of fear, of gratefulness for these friends that had become family over the past weeks, of everything suddenly crashing down.

“I’ll be okay,” she said quietly to the wash crew and perhaps to myself. “You all should go. Like you were going to. I’m sorry.”

They didn’t move.

She looked at Piper, whose worried hand was on her arm. There was an unspoken vow of protection between the women in that moment, but Wren’s eyes pleaded, so Piper nodded sadly, took Noodle’s hand, and the group left.

Wren was almost afraid to look at Willy, but she did; the boy was staring at the old chocolate bar in his hands, looking as if he could barely process a thing.

The sympathy in her gaze must have been far too obvious, because she suddenly heard footsteps, felt a hard grip on her wrist, and gasped in pain as it was yanked up and backwards.

“Darling,” Felix hissed with a sinister edge, though his voice was breaking, “I don’t know how or why this betrayal-”

“Betrayal?” she finally cried out, breaking free from his grasp as Willy rushed between them. “You lot have just poisoned dozens of innocent people, all for a business rivalry, and I won’t-”

“If you want your family not to starve, you had better lower your voice,” he barked.

Every speck of air seemed to leave the room.

“...My family?”

“I may have been distracted enough for the past weeks to ignore the mail that came in and out of our house, but I had not always been that blind. I thought your compassion to be an incomprehensible gesture, but I let it slide. When I felt like it.”

…They haven’t gotten everything I’ve sent.

They haven’t-

“In fact,” he continued, “it served as what was almost a pleasant reminder of the truth. For your family, for your stupid dream, and for your sweetly dependent soul-you need me.”

“If you knew I was poor, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because it’s the same way for me!”

This was the peak of what had been a building explosion, and this was the moment in which they both remembered there were other people in the room.

“What?” the four besides him breathed, almost in unison.

“Oh, you heard right,” Felix launched into speech, the characteristic gestures starting to work their way back into him. “I came from nearly nothing, just the same. But I did what I had to do to climb to the top. I cast them all away, left my old life behind completely, and I suppose it was a foolish hope to think my wife would do the same. But she-but you-you are nothing but a guileless, deceitful bleeding heart.”

“I…”

Tears blurred her vision.

“I am…genuinely sorry that you felt you had to hide your past, but that doesn’t excuse trying to make the rest of the world match your insecurity and fit your little chocolate mold. And if that makes me a bleeding heart…I’m proud of the title.”

For a moment, the man looked as if he would allow his wife’s words to affect him.

Then his face, normally so expressive, turned completely cold.

She’d lost him.

She’d never truly had him to lose.

But she looked at Willy, and she thought of the wash crew, and she realized she finally had a truer support system. And if she could try to start over, find some other way to earn money to send to her family without interception, and some other way to reach the dreams that felt so far away at the moment, she knew Felix would be wrong: she didn’t need him.

After a long silence, Slugworth cleared his throat.

“Get her out of here. We have business with Mr. Wonka.”

What?

Her and the younger man’s eyes widened, and they grabbed each other’s hands on instinct, but a small number of policemen came around the corner of the shop door at Slugworth’s order. They clamped hands on her shoulders and dragged her away from Willy as the Cartel stood silently and watched.

“Wait-wait, no, I-”

“Wren-”

She struggled, fought, kicked, but was forced into the backseat of a police car-

“Let me go, you corrupt bastards-”

“Wren-”

“Let me-”

“Just drop her somewhere in town,” Felix said coolly. “Somewhere that isn’t my home.”

“WREN!”

The car door was slammed, and the last thing she saw was the Cartel advancing on a dazed Willy, opening a suitcase of cash.

All she could do was scream, and the scream turned into a cry.

They did indeed drop her somewhere. She burst out of the car the second it had stopped, and the officers drove away without a word.

Sick with worry and trying to regain her breath, she looked around, almost fainting with relief when she saw the laundry building. Piper, having heard the commotion, stood outside, and they looked at each other for a moment before Wren fell sobbing into her arms.

This is not over.

#fiytwtb #wonka movie #wonka 2023 #wonka #willy wonka x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet #wonka x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfic #mat baynton #mathew baynton #mathew baynton x reader #mat baynton x reader

[helpinghanikan]

Stay in Sight

Sum: Tangerine isn't supposed to be doing anything too dangerous while he's recovering. The same isn't said for you.

AN: I'm sorry to who requested this that it took a minute. Work hit me with OT so I wrote this on my phone during breaks. Please excuse the grammar.

Saturday night at the mall is a busy place. It’s a big building, an easy place to get lost in or to lose someone in. Barely an hour in the building and already three different announcements were made for kids to meet their families at the front.

Tangerine was about to the be the next one.

“Stupid, mustached, sexy idiot…” You muttered while sliding through the contacts. Looking over the banister as if Tangerine will be one floor down, staring right up at you and waving. “Better answer.”

It’s only been three weeks since Tangerine was carried to your door. Covered in blood, a hole in his throat sew together by a back-alley doctor and breathing just enough to prove that he wasn’t dead. Lemon looked exhausted, but he was the only one in control during this time. Good thing, too. Otherwise the neighbors would have heard your screams at seeing Tangerine like this.

The first week was spent with Tangerine in bed. You and Lemon took shifts sitting by his side. To make sure that the wound was clean, but also to be sure that the idiot didn’t try to get up before he was at least a bit better.

A few rings and your call goes to voice mail. Of course Tangerine wouldn’t answer, this was likely his plan all along. Go out somewhere and then sneak away the moment you let go of his hand. He’s being trying to do this since you let him get up from bed: whether it was to visit the gym, pick up some food or even just take a piss you were making sure he wasn’t doing something else.

“We’re taking that two-month vacation, Babe. Whether you like it or not.” You had told him one night when he wanted to step out for a smoke. He had smiled when you said that. Which was probably when you should have known he was already planning something.

Next option was Lemon. Quickly scrolling your contacts until the little fruit emoji showed.

One ring and he picked up; “What’s up?”

“Where’s Tangerine?” You ask, still scanning over the people from the second-floor banister.

“Well, hello to you too, Love. I don’t get a greeting or nothing?” Lemon says with a fake voice of sorrow. He is definitely part of Tangerine’s plan.

“Lemon, please…”

“He’s alright, I swear. He’s just doing some shopping.”

Shopping, at least he wasn’t lying about needing to stop by the mall. Just trying to find him would be the real bear.

“You know where he is, then? Is he safe?” You were starting to sound like a concerned mother more than a girlfriend right now. “Damn it, Lemon, I just got him back.”

Lemon, always the big brother, is quick to change his voice. “Hey, hey. It’s gonna be okay. I’m worried just like you, ‘kay? But he’s not going anywhere and I’m making sure of it this time.”

“You’re watching him right now, aren’t you?” You ask.

“’course I am.” He says although he claimed to have had a date today and couldn’t come. “I’m not letting that prick out of my sight either. And I hope you like pearls ‘cause he’s spending our last two jobs on them.”

Usually you would have laughed at that comment. But slight pressure of a person stepping into your space made you silent. It wasn’t Tangerine who was suddenly so close you could be spooning. Even if you didn’t have this conversation with Lemon you couldn’t pretend Tangerine was right behind you.

Tangerine was a firm presence with a cool, sometimes cold, feeling in his hands. It made goosebumps on your arms when he touches you. It excites when he finally talks after placing a kiss on your head. This person wasn’t Tangerine, but they certainly were a threat.

Especially when they leaned into your ear and whispered; “If you don’t want him to have another hole in his neck. You’ll hang up.”

“I wouldn’t mind moving him towards something else if you-.” Lemon was interrupted by the practical slamming of your phone. Silencing the only contact to your man or your friend you hand.

“Good girl,” The stranger seemingly coos. Sliding their hand into yours like a lover. “Very good girl. Now come along.”

The stranger was a woman. A non-descript white woman who would fit in with the countless other college students meandering around. Perhaps just a few years older and with quit a bit more confidence. She pulls your hand close, forcing you into her side where she puts an arm around you. Your phone now hers as she slides it into her coat like it’s no big deal.

“Sorry you’re part of this,” She says, voice low next to your head. “But a debts’ gotta be paid and you’re the only money Tangerine’s got.”

It’s pointless to ask but you do so anyway; “Who are you?”

He smiles like you are just oh-so-cute. “I’m your new best friend, Baby. Let’s go for a ride.”

The mall was still busy and seemed to be only made worse by the situation. This woman held you too close to try and slip away from. If she’s anything like the people Tangerine and Lemon usually deal with there would be no point in trying anyway. Best case scenario you would make some distance. Worst case and Tangerine is dead, along with several bystanders who have no way of knowing what is going on.

On the escalator a family denim jacket and tie peaks out from the crowd on the lower floor. Although he was a big man Lemon was pretty good at blending in with the crowd. Especially when he just stand next to a protein shack or some other gym bros and not look a bit out of place.

He make eye-contact and only needs a light shake of your head to understand. His own phone out and talking into with a smile. Totally not talking to Tangerine or anything, and certainly not walking in your same direction for any particular reason.

Into the parking garage and This woman is walking faster. She doesn’t give off any other impression than someone wanting to get their girl home real fast. The only hitch in the camouflage was the Cobalt taking a sharp turn right in front of you. Trunk ready to be opened.

Fear and logic two warriors fighting in your head. On one hand the fear makes you think of the trunk. A second location means nothing but death. If you don’t go in then Tangerine is gone. Lemon will have to live through his brother’s death again or killed himself.

On the other hand logic tells you to scream. Shove This woman hard as you can and starting running just as strong. Normal circumstance says that they won’t bother chasing if you run into a populated area screaming. It’s usually not worth the risk. Usually.

You don’t have time to think about which warrior you want to win. Metal is already hitting your knees and gravity takes you forward. Face first into the dark trunk that is quickly slammed shut behind you. Nothing to look for and nothing to find but the rough ground and harsh sides you could never hope to punch through.

“Lemon! LEMON!” You immediately start screaming, open hands slamming on the trunk roof. “Get Tangerine! Get Tangerine!”

Your man was still injured; he had left the apartment today with a pretty white bandage around his throat. You were gently when placing it on. Giving him a soft kiss when you were done. Smiling when he chuckled at the gesture. Demanding one onto his mouth as well.

The car takes a sharp right turn and you still almost feel his facial hair during that kiss. It’s almost enough to distract you from being slammed around from all the turning and sharp takes.

“Where is Tangerine?!” You scream, sure that they can hear you. “He better be okay!”

Although you yelled this like a threat, it wasn’t like you could do anything. These people weren’t like normal thugs and punks on the street. Who would run away at a warning shot into the ground or surprised by a brave victim. These were the kind of people who were after revenge against Tangerine.

Based on his past it’s not surprising that Tangerine would have enemies like this. What little you knew about his work usually meant there were always hurt parties left behind. Widows and orphans made from a single job that neither Tangerine nor Lemon cared to really remember. It was just another workday for them.

A few more turns and then it’s a straight shot for at least an hour. Long enough that you fell asleep in the warm trunk. Curling close until your knees were as high as they could go while waiting for the car to finally stop.

You don’t wake up when the car stops, only when someone slams a hand on the trunk hood. They don’t open the trunk, but they do keep hitting it. Again and again slamming into the metal that threatened to cave in, although that might just be a dramatic thought. Didn’t make it any less scary though.

Through the metal you can hear the voice of This woman and a male. Neither seeming to care that you might be able to hear through it.

“Going after wives are never good. We’re fucked the moment she dies.” The male says.

“Tit-for-tat, Tangerine take’s my boy I take his girl. If he wants to show up and make it worse then he’s gone too. That’s how it works, that’s what makes it fair.” This woman says, another hard slam to the trunk.

“Murders never- fucking move!” The man yells just before a massive impact hits the side of the car you are still trapped in.

While you are rocked completely upside down the car is now sideways. Pain and bruises will be covering you in the next few seconds and are going to stay for days to come. Especially when you landed so hard on your side. Only thing you’re able to see is the slightly cracked glass of a taillight peeking out from the trunk carpet.

A concussion is very likely with massive of a headache. Shooting, shouting and profanity make it all worse. Not that you can take a second to lean forward and cradle your head from the pain. Not when your trunk is given light through bullet holes appearing just over your head.

“I’M STILL IN HERE!” You screamed, as if that was going to make it stop.

When it obviously doesn’t stop you look back to the taillight. Using all your strength to rip the carpet away just enough. Cringing at the pain of broken glass and mental poking and cutting into your arm while reaching out to your elbow. Waving around, grabbing the ground, and tossing whatever you could get your hands on. All the while yelling for someone to remember that you were still there.

“I see you; oh, baby, fuck yes I see you!” Tangerine, or Tangerine’s voice at least, pants just outside the trunk. His strong hand, long finger, grab hold of your so tightly he could have cracked a finger. “Stay here. Just wait.”

He’s gone just as fast as you had found him. Leaving your hand grasping the empty air as stones scrunched under his feet as he ran.

“Lemon! Got a crowbar? Or a screw or a fucking bat? Something?” Tangerine yells.

“How about the car keys, mate?” Lemon yells back, jingling in the air.

It was more than a little bit dramatic the way you fell out of the trunk. Tangerine there to catch you before you could have landed on the hard ground. He holds you close enough that no one would be able to separate you again.

At least until Lemon shows up and ruins the moment.

“Who the fuck was that, man?” He asks, gesturing almost wildly at the two bodies next to the car you had just escaped from.

If there is something Tangerine and Lemon know how to do; it’s killing. This woman, who had started it all, was left mangled from the initial impact of Tangerine reaching the scene. She never had a chance when Tangerine knew she was the one who had taken you.

The man looked to have lasted longer. Having hidden behind the car and participating in a shoot out that only lasted a couple seconds, into a few minutes.

Tangerine quickly turns your head from the bodies. Not that he was looking much better, either. His hair was a mess, some splatter had gotten onto his nice white shirt, and his bandage was bleeding again. You reach out to the bandage, covering the growing red with your hand as if you could heal it with your touch alone.

“You said we’d stick together today.” You said. Almost angry, almost crying.

He cups your face. “I’m a fucking mess, I’m sorry. Fuck, love, I’m so sorry.”

It didn’t really matter how much he apologized. This was part of his life, therefore it made it part of yours. He can make promises and even try to quit but we all know that wasn’t going to happen. Not when the movie was so good, not when Lemon was with him until the end, and especially not when you never asked him to.

“Let’s go back to the apartment, please.” You asked, staring straight to tangerine to avoid looking at your kidnapper and what was left of her.

Lemon drove while Tangerine sat shot gun. No one talked, not until you moved Tangerine’s coat and felt the box inside. Black velvet, large enough for a necklace and earrings. Perhaps even a bit more.

“What’s this?” You asked, making tangerine jolt a bit from the surprise.

He looks at the box and sighs. Taking it from your hands, popping it open to show exactly what you expected. A row of pearls and earrings, salt-water raised, and silver chain to hold them together. “Completely forgot I snatched that.”

“I thought you were doing better?” Lemon asked, rather accused, Tangerine.

“I am or was. It was an emergency, Lemon. I didn’t have time to get in the queue!” Tangerine spat, not noticing when you slipped the box back from his hands.

“All I’m hearing is an excuse, man.” Lemon retorted.

You looked good in the earrings and necklace. Leaning forward between their seats tog et a better look at them. Only then Tangerine notice when you were close enough he could place a sweet kiss on your cheek.

“You look lovely,” He says.

“I better, because you owe me so much more than stolen jewelry.” You reply. Both as a joke and as a reminder.

#reader insert #tangerine x reader #bullet train reader insert #bullet train movie #bullet train 2022 #tangerine #street smarts! #Lemon is a BAMF #Tangerine lived #requested

[buckys-little-belle]

k i know you don’t write for them, but you reblog the marauder boys so much 👀 so i was wondering if you would write for them? i have this idea that the reader has a bad relationship with their family 😭, like never goes home on holidays and never gets mail, never wants to talk about their childhood, and the boys ALWAYS wonder why. remus, because he’s so smart 😌, reads lots of books, and he has heard of regression, and realizes that the reader is one because they want to remember being happy as a kid and when little they feel happy and then maybe the boys ask to be their care giver and let them be a happy baby all the time and remus is happy because he feels so out of control when turned and now he feels good and maybe james is a little? and sirius is the fun dad? and it’s like a little family at hog waters and they just all alllllll are happy?

Happy Family

The Marauders x Little!Reader (They/Them pronouns) (Cg! Remus, Cg!Sirius, Little!James, Little!Reader)

Warnings - Vague talks about family issues, vague talks about childhood trauma, they all eat meals, food, crying, angst, but very much fluff and comfort as well!

Notes - I did change this up a little, just time wise, it’s the same thing, I just know your ask could be decoded and analyzed a different way for a different storyline, this is just what I came up with! I did try my best, I’m super new to writing these three, and I’m very sorry if it’s not good!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and with this blog, SFW.

- - - - - -

The grand hall was loud, conversations coming from each angle as students ate, the murmur of plates moving, and the sound of footsteps seeming to be constant. The first dinner of the year was always a wild one, new students buzzing, old students getting back together, and people eating as if they had never seen a bread roll before. “Hi, could I sit here?” A voice called out, Remus, Sirius, and James looking up towards the person.

Y/n stood frozen, a deer in the headlights sort of moment, their robes tousled, their eyes panicked. Remus spoke first. “Yah sure.” He said, gesturing to the seat beside himself, James and Sirius opposite of him on the other bench, both shocked that someone was asking to sit instead of just sitting, after all it is one big table full of people. “You’re.” Remus began. “Sorry I forgot your name.” He adds, genuinely embarrassed at his lack of information.

“Um, I’m Y/n, yah I kind of keep to the back of the class, so I don’t expect you to know me.” They hurriedly said, sitting down and reaching for a bread roll, their eyes immediately searching the room.

“Are you okay?” James asked, his eyes following where Y/n had gone, now looking at the Ravenclaw table.

“Oh, Yeah, don’t mind me, sorry for sitting here, I missed the train and someone sat in my usual seat.” They rambled, stuffing the bread roll in their mouth hurriedly.

“Slow down there.” Sirius laughed, watching Y/n eat as if it was their last meal on earth.

“I just want to get out of your way quickly is all.” They muffled, mouth stuffed, looking at Sirius with panicked eyes, hoping they weren’t bothering him.

“If you leave quickly how are we gonna be friends?” James asked, his smile suddenly replaced with a frown, his mind slowly going foggy, wondering if he was doing something wrong.

“Oh.” Y/n said, realizing they hadn’t even taken a second to recognize that the boys weren’t angry at them, that they actually enjoyed their company for some reason.

Remus picked up Y/n’s plate, looking down at them. “What do you want to eat?” He asked, Y/n’s expression growing confused before James interrupted.

“He has long arms s’ he gets our food.” James smiled, digging back in to his dinner.

“I like everything, can you just make sure the foods don’t touch please?” Y/n asked, looking over the different dishes placed along the table as Remus began platting the different foods.

“Hey that’s ten points!” James shouted excitedly, looking at Y/n with pure excitement. “Do I get to share points with them?” He asked, turning to Sirius.

Sirius whispered to James, the boy now back to eating, dropping the prior topic. “Here.” Remus said, handing Y/n the plate, all the foods separated, a good few millimetres between each different one.

“Thank you.” They said as hey began eating too.

“Ten more points.” James whispered, hardly above hearing level.

“So Y/n, what classes do you have this semester?” Sirius asked, the three boys turning their attention to them.

Y/n reached into their pocket, pulling out a tattered piece of paper, one that was wrinkled and had a few rips. “This term I have potions, Apparitions, Herbology, and then.” They paused, pulling the page closer to their face. “I actually don’t know what class I have last, sorry.” They sighed, a wave of defeat washing over them.

“That’s okay, I can get you another paper for tomorrow morning.” Remus said in between his own bites. “Sorry, I don’t think we introduced ourselves I’m-“

“Remus, Gryffindor prefect, your James, Gryffindor’s Quidditch captain, and your Sirius, you-“

“You can stop there.” Sirius smiled, not wanting to know what label he had been given by the general public.

Y/n nodded, placing a bite of food in their mouth and then looked across the room. “Are you looking for someone?” Remus asked, the three boys now looking at the Ravenclaw table, scanning it for whatever Y/n was scanning it for.

“I have a younger cousin, Henry, it’s his first year I just want to make sure he’s okay.” Y/n laughed, the first genuine laugh they had heard from them. “He’s fine, he’s the one standing on the bench there.” Y/n pointed, their finger pointing to a young boy standing on a bench, telling a story very dramatically.

“I wonder what he’s saying.” James asked.

“He’s probably just talking about his dad, he works with dragons.” Y/n mumbled.

“No way!” James yelled. “Actually?”

“Mhm.” Y/n said, clearly not wanting to talk about it, James looking to Sirius when Y/n didn’t perk up at the mention of dragons. “I actually have to go, I have a thing to do.” They stood up, putting their piece of paper back in their pocket and giving a weak smile. “Thanks for the company.”

Before the boys could say anything Y/n had run off, Sirius and Remus sharing an all knowing glance, James just getting back to dinner, knowing ten points awaited him if he ate all of his vegetables.

- - - - - -

“Y/n!” Sirius shouted down the hallway, trying to catch Y/n to give them a new schedule. Y/n finally stopping and turning, looking surprised to see him. “Here.” He said, handing them the paper. “I put a protection spell on it so it shouldn’t get ripped again.” He smiled, slightly out of breath. “Well, Remus did, but he’s not here so I can say I did.” He laughed, making Y/n smile and chuckle in response.

“Thank you, tell him thank you.” Y/n said before turning around again, walking away.

“Why don’t you?” Sirius asked.

“What?” Y/n turned back around.

“At dinner, sit with us again.” Sirius said, standing in the middle of the hallways like a fool, a slight plead evident in his voice.

“I don’t want to-“

“You aren’t going to bother us I promise.” He smiled. “Just think about, okay?” Y/n nodded in response, finally leaving to get to class.

- - - - - -

“Are they coming?” James asked Remus, the boy just shrugging his shoulders as a silent answer.

“Hi.” Y/n said, sitting down beside Remus, just like they had the first night.

“Hi.” The three boys said in unison. Remus talking alone next. “What do you want tonight?” He asked, picking up Y/n’s plate.

“You know you don’t have to put the food on my plate right?” Y/n smiled, the smile not quite reaching their eyes, but seemingly getting the job done.

“I know, I just.” He paused and sighed. “I like taking care of people, so just let me do this.” He smiled, putting food on the plate, making sure the food was separated from each other.

“Wait can you-“ Before Y/n could ask for the food to be separated their plate was put in front of them on the table, the food separated perfectly. “Thanks.” They confusedly mumbled.

“So what did you do last night?” James asked, the two other boys cringing, they wanted to know, sure, but they knew there was a time and a place to ask such personal questions.

“Um, I just read a bit before bed.” They smiled, picking around at the food on their plate.

“Don’t play with your food, darling.” Remus said nonchalantly, as if it was second nature, the nickname shocking Y/n slightly.

“Sorry.” Y/n apologized, looking at their plate to figure out where to start.

“I always eat my veggies first, because then I get ten points.” James whispered loudly, trying to keep his words hidden from Sirius and Remus, but failing to do so.

“What are points?” Y/n asked. “Like house points?” They looked to both Sirius and Remus, flipping between the two, both boys giving each other a look, seemingly arguing with their eyes.

“No, Um.” Remus tried to begin, trying to explain their situation without making Y/n confused.

“What did you read last night?” James blurts out, having checked out of the current conversation a while ago, now just asking whats on his mind.

Y/n, who was mid bite, mouth full of vegetables, eating them because they desperately wanted know what the points meant, something both Sirius and Remus picked up on, paused, their eyes going wide. How do you tell three nice people who are maybe your friends that you read childrens books in your spare time. “Just some short stories.” Y/n answered, proud of their cover up.

Remus chuckled, the excuse exactly what James used to say, before they boys knew he was a little. As if on cue, James began speaking. “Oh, I like short stories too, my favourite is the muggle book ‘Frog and Toad are Friends’!” He smiled before shouting. “Toad Toad!”

“Wake up. It is Spring!” Y/n shouted back, laughing with James, them locking eyes before shouting in unison. “Blah!”

“So you read kids books, in your free time?” Sirius questioned, trying to make sure what he was hearing was right, Y/n immediately shrinking into their seat at the question.

Remus placed his hand reassuringly on Y/n’s back, a gestured allowed by the bench seats having no back rest. “He’s not making fun of you.” Remus gave a quiet chuckle. “Maybe you can borrow some of James’ books.” He offered. “Which books do you have?”

Y/n’s eyes lit up at his words, feeling accepted for the first time. Their mind swirling, finally figuring out that Sirius and Remus were caregivers, James just like Y/n an oddly comforting fact. Quickly though they once again sank back into themselves, their mind telling them they won’t be welcome back after this, the boys most likely not wanting another person to care for. “Um, just the toad one, but I don’t want any others.” Y/n quickly stood up, a few tears gathering in their eyes. “I really don’t want to bother you, thank you for dinner.” They said, before running off once again.

“Why do they do that?” James asked as he saw Y/n practically run out of the grand hall for a second time.

Remus turned his attention back to James, Y/n figure now out of sight. “Well.” He began. “You regress because you had a good childhood and want to feel that happiness again, where Y/n regresses because they had a bad childhood and want to experience being happy when being a kid. It might be hard for them to be happy with us because we remind them of a family and the bad memories of their own.” Remus explained, sounding like he read the words out of a book, because in all actuality most of it did come from a book.

“That’s really sad.” James confessed, laying his head on Sirius’ shoulder. “I hope we get to see them again.” He said, missing the person he had met two days ago, their company already something he longed for.

“Why don’t we buy them a book tomorrow when we go to Hogsmeade?” Sirius suggested, trying to cheer James up, which he successfully did.

- - - - - -

Y/n sat in their dorm room, the castle just gaining back it’s noise, the rest of the students away all day, off shopping, while Y/n did homework and read a book, sad that they couldn’t go, no permission slip signed in sight, but happy for some silence, and no roommates nosing their way around their stuff. “Y/n?” A voice called from behind their bedroom door, a hesitant knock following it.

Y/n stood up, their wand in hand, not sure who would be calling on them, especially since everyone had two more hours left on their trip. Y/n opened the door, peeking from behind the wood, met with the three boys, James upfront, a large bag in his hand, Sirius stood behind him, his hands on the boy’s shoulders, and Remus stood behind the two of them, slightly out of sight.

“Hi?” Y/n cautioned, opening the door more so they could be fully seen.

“Can we come in? We have gifts!” James beamed, walking past Y/n before they could answer, sitting on the floor contently, waiting for everyone else.

“Sorry about him, he’s excited.” Sirius said, walking in, sitting behind James on the floor, his arms going around the boy, whispering something in his ear.

“I’m sorry about the both of them, can we come in?” Remus chuckled, still stood outside of the room, his eyes sincere.

Y/n just nodded, a weary smile on their face, unsure of the reason for the visit. “Sit! Sit!” James cheered, gesturing to the floor in front of him and Sirius, Y/n sitting down quickly opposite of him, Remus sitting beside Sirius instead, the three practically viewing Y/n as if they were on display.

Y/n placed their hands in their lap, their fingers immediately intertwining with each other, fumbling over one another. “How was your trip?” Y/n questioned, trying to ease the awkward silence that had settled.

“It w‘s great!” James began. “We got you this.” He said, handing the paper bag to Y/n, who just placed it in front of themselves, unsure if they should open it right away, their focus stuck on the bag.

“Darling?” Remus questioned, causing Y/n to look up at him, a few tears threatening to spill. Remus frowned, shuffling to sit next to Y/n, his hand now placed on their back. “Why don’t you open it?” He suggested, Y/n nodding.

Y/n reached in, their hands hitting something hard, their fingers grasping a book. “ ‘s the second Frog and Toad book!” James beamed, a large smile plastered on his face. “You din’ want to borrow m’ books, so we got you one.” He mumbled, his back falling further into Sirius’ torso.

Y/n didn’t answer, their sniffle the only sound heard in the room. “I don’ want it.” They whispered, a few tears now rolling down their cheeks as they stood up. “I know you’re jus’ bein’ nice, i’s not fair.” They cried, stepping away from the boys to create distance.

“What do you mean ‘it’s not fair’?” Sirius questioned, sitting up straight, his eyes fixed on Y/n.

“You have James, you don’ want me, an’ you jus’.” Y/n sputtered. “I really like the book, and i’s jus’.”

“Y/n.” Remus began, cutting them off.

“No, i’s unfair, you’re jus’ feelin’ bad f’r me.” They cried, tears streaming down their cheeks as their bottom lip quivered uncontrollably.

“We don’t pity you Love.” Sirius said, his eyes genuine, his tone filled with sorrow. “Me and Remus want to take care of you, you’re sweet, you have great manners, and you get along with James.” He added.

Remus gestured Y/n to sit back down, them taking up the spot right next to him, no longer wanting distance from them. Remus’s hand went to their back, a gesture Y/n had grown to love and look forward to, the feeling comforting. “I know you’re unsure, it’s scary to trust new people.” Y/n nodded their head. “So why don’t we just take it one day at a time, okay?” He asked, his hand rubbing comforting circles on their back.

“C’n I eat wif’ yous at dinner then?” They asked, their gaze meeting each of them, as if asking them each individually.

“YES!” James cheered, genuinely excited for someone to play with. “Please.” He added.

“You can stick by our sides all you want Love, you’re apart of the family now.” Serious smiled, the rest of them following, the four of them sat their like a bunch of fools, smiling at each other, excited to start the new journey, excited for dinner that night. The little family taking things one day at a time from now on.

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #little!reader #age regression #marauders x little!reader #marauders x reader #marauders #remus x little!reader #remus x reader #remus lupin #sirius x little!reader #sirius x reader #sirius black #james x reader #james x little!reader #little!james #james potter

[mayakern]

Just jumping in here to add that support - it’s so difficult to find a well-fitting, comfortable skirt when you are fat and that difficulty goes up significantly when you want it to be ADORABLE too.

Ugh and shopping online is JUST as frustrating sometimes because not every size chart is made equal and not every size chart is made accurate. Shops will be like “we are plus-size 😏” and only go up to a 1x (😒) Sometimes I get stuff in the mail that SHOULD have fit but it doesn’t! And that’s so absolutely demoralizing when I already can’t shop at the average fucking store because of my size.

And then prices!!! I can afford it! $60 isn’t chump change for a lot of people - but it is so much more accessible then a lot of shit out there and I feel so fucking grateful that I can purchase what you lay out.

Especially because I love pastel fashion! And you actually have shit I can wear!!!! And it’s not just a basic skirt - (here hello it’s our 18th skirt in the same shade of mauve or plum 😬 just for you larger sized ppl lol) they’re GORGEOUS. They’re varied!!!! They’re different!!!!!!

I have eyed your skirts for such a long time and I finally just bought the beautiful ocean one and I feel SOOOO happy that I can wear something that cute and I feel CONFIDENT it’s going to fit even before it’s here and that I can afford it.

I get where people are coming from with natural fabrics I guess but I feel so protective of you every time that comes up as a consistent complaint because ugh you can’t solve every problem! You’re a small business that’s already doing what you can!

Every time I see this stuff roll across my dash, I’m like “shhh…. shhhh let me buy the pretty and affordable and inclusive skirts in peace, we understand, it’s not gonna happen right now, Maya’s already talked about this….omg look at the pretty waves take my money now.”

Sorry for all my swearing I just!!! You’re doing a good job!!! I swear all of it was just vehement enthusiasm for your good job. 💖💖💖 Thank you for what you do.

aw thank you this is incredibly sweet 🥺🥺

honestly i deal with this in my own life. i’ve been trying to find a cute and comfortable yellow crop top for a summer time version of my wario costume (which i usually wear a turtleneck for) and the shein/romwe/alieexpress listings have infected EVERYTHING making it so hard to search for anything bc all the listings will have a 3X option but then you’ll realize the 3X is, at most, a size 18 👹👹👹

obviously letter sizes mean NOTHING and we try not to use them too much in the store as your precise measurements will always give a MUCH better fit, but still that’s goddamn ridiculous

ANYWAY thank you for the kind words and i hope you love your skirt. also, as a general note, on the off chance one of our garments doesn’t fit you, especially if it is too small, we are always happy to do exchanges (if we have the appropriate size on hand) or returns. i would always rather people have a garment that fits and is comfortable or nothing, vs something they can’t wear.

#ask

[luckyqueenreign]

I was wondering about this Wednesday's update. I know that the postcards are coming. I don't think the MC nor Marshall will be in any of the postcards so Fusebox can capitalize on the surprise and maximize the drama. There have already been the raunchy races and the postcards are coming, do you think we will be going back to the Villa this week or do you think we will be at Casa for all 3 episodes? I hope we return to the Villa, but I get the feeling the update will end with a Stick or Twist cliffhanger. What do you think?

IM TIRED. I WANT TO GO HOME!!! It’s been SIX EPISODES ALREADY!!!! I’m not the type to go and send fb hate mail bc I don’t care that deep but I will literally send them hate mail if they keep us in casa for another week. Personally I think the first episode will be all of the girls gathering around the postcard, trying to find out what happened in the hideaway and then whoever you took to the hideaway will try to talk to you to win you back one last time. You might get a chance for one last kiss but then you’re gonna get the text that we’re going back and we need to decide now if we’re sticking or switching. Second episode Time to change the girls are all ahhh mc what are u gonna do (the only time this was actually necessary) Grace is gonna be happy to go back to see Ozzy and will be side eyeing us but also smiling. (Tbh the way they’ve written Grace if you’re on Ozzy route is so bizarre it makes her look fake nice… because she’s genuinely so nice but then is mean mugging you half the time which is justified we’re literally trying to steal her man) the boring ones will go first ie in my playthrough bella and Louie. Then grace and Ozzy then Amelia and Roberto and then finally will be MC and Elliot. Everyone is first gonna be shocked to see marshall and the fact that Ozzy has a hidden twin no one knew about when Amelia brings him back in. But they’re gonna be so shocked, scared, happy MC is back. Episode three… if there’s any dumping it’ll happen here. Diamond choice to hear about what the guy we want did at casa. (Ozzy better have been showing that girl in the postcard the airport in the distance where he will be flying out of to find mc) since it’s late we prob won’t have a chance to have a deep chat with anyone. Maybeeee one of the guys will pull mc but I can’t really see it happening and is getting to talk to anyone we want. Especially since Ivy is back too so I feel like the girls are gonna pull us for a girls chat. Itll end with the girls getting changed for bed, mc goes down to bed and maybe THEN someone pulls us and ends on a cliffhanger.

#litg #litg mc #love island the game #love island game #litg ask #litg s6 #litg double trouble #double trouble

[midnightbrightside]

Look here’s part of my interpretation of Krisnix

Particularly Phoenix’s feelings towards towards him

My headcanon is the timeline goes a bit like this

Year 1: I don’t know how I got disbarred but Kris is the only one who believes in me so I like him, I’m gonna cling to them for support

Year 2: Ok Kris is looking kind of sus but I’m just gonna ignore that since Edgeworth still hasn’t had time to visit me. Sure there’s something else I’m missing

Year 3: Ok the signs are pointing to Kris but if I just zeno my thinking some other factors/excuses will materialize

Year 4: ok no all the signs are saying he did it out of spite but if I just huff enough copium the facts will change and the only person who’s been able to support me in person and not through time zone screwed phone calls and e-mails won’t be the one who ruined my life

Year 5: Ok so the facts haven’t changed and he’s an asshole but I’ll fix him like I fixed Edgeworth. He says he cares about me so it must be true (after all wanting something to be true really badly makes it true right?) I’ll fix him!

Year 6-7: ok being around him is very weird and I’m upset he disbarred me but I need to figure out what his tragic background is so I can fix him, then I can reform the court system and he can be like Edgeworth except he doesn’t leave me for Europe 😤

*Kris commits murder*

Phoenix: … so I guess I can’t fix him :/

I genuinely think for a least a while Nick had to have some kind of fix it mindset with him

I mean Edgybaby was said to have forged evidence and Nick didn’t really care. I really think murder was the final nail in the coffin

Thoughts? Is this a valid timeline? I know some people like it where Nick realizes what happened immediately and just hated Kris internally all 7 years but to me that’s boring

I have even more complicated thought of Kris’ thoughts of Nick so look out

this is so real and also mostly how i see phoenix' s thoight process tbh!! especially the years of ignoring red flags only to then try and "fix him", he'll drag out the denial as long as possible. besides hes dealt w corrupt guys before, he was willing to give edgeworth for a lot, and its very possible he didnt know kristoph was capable of murder until turnabout trump.

and fuck how DEVASTATING must that be? to spend years knowing someone intimately and being willing to overlook all of the signs because the support and companionship they offer is more reliable and consistent than anything youve had before? only to end up feeling like you dont know them at all (might be working on a little drawing about that atm actually 👁👁 work is hell tho and slowing me down so much)

#ask #oreocookiezzz

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: “The Land of Shadow”

Ding dong, finally moving on to a new chapter! I know it actually wasn’t a long time, but feels like we spent so long in the Tower of Cirith Ungol…but now on to new territory!

Two sentences in and Frodo is already trying to chuck himself off a cliff LOL 🤣🤣

“Well, here goes, Mr. Frodo. Good-bye!” Sam really is Mr. Guess I’ll Die in these chapters, isn’t he?

Suddenly: BUSHES

Having gone walking in the desert in Arizona and still finding burrs in my sneakers months later, I can confirm that thorns are little spawns of the devil in plant form.

And then they both have a lie-down. Or Frodo has a lie-down, and Sam has a nap. Good. They need it.

Fjshdskfj this whole thing about the mail coat is. Aaaahh. It’s frickin’ killing me. I can’t believe I glossed over it when I was a kid. Frodo like “I’m too weak to go on wearing this” and Sam like “but we have to protect you somehow” and Frodo like “it’s no use, I don’t have the strength, I’m sorry, please don’t think I’m ungrateful, I know you went through a lot of effort to get it for me” and Sam like “oh my word, don’t worry about me! I’m the one who’s supposed to be worrying about you!” and I just. Nnnnggaahh! They *clenches fist* love each other so much I’mma frickin’ die

Also, “Don’t talk about it, Mr. Frodo. Bless you! I’d carry you on my back, if I could.” FOOORESHADOWING!!

Frodo has a Nazgûl detector. Side effect of the Morgul Blade, perhaps??

THAT REFERENCE TO THEODEN THO. HECK.

The Witch King has just been slain! No wonder the weather is changing in Mordor! Aw, man, if only Frodo and Sam knew what Merry had just helped to do…they’d be so proud, bro.

Sam: “Don’t you feel better?” Frodo: “No, not really.”

Pfffft way to be a downer, Frodo 🤣

WATERRRRRR!!

HECKIN’. WATERRRRRR!!!!

AAAAAHHHHHH I could cry 🤣🤣

Sam like “let me try it first” and Frodo like “:-( but I’m thirsty too” and Sam like “I know that, but I’m trying to test if it’s poisonous” fjshjdks they’re hilarious

Water in the desert. Heck. Frickin’. Do I need to restate how much water is a symbol of hope and rest and restoration and life in this story?? Heck to the frick frickin’ heck.

I love how just the presence of plant life in Mordor makes me feel like that’s a victory somehow. Like “HECK YES, STICK IT TO THE MAN, YA BALLSY LITTLE TREES, YOU GO!!”

Sam holding Frodo’s hand to try to keep himself awake 🥺

THE STAR BETWEEN THE CLOUDS!! HECK! So this is where that passage comes from! “In the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach”, AAAAAHHHHH—

Also the hobbits sleeping hand in hand is very cute but also. Sam. Sam you’re supposed to be on guard duty LOL

Good to know Aragorn’s distractionating is working.

Frodo is. Such a downer. I love him so much you guys. 🤣 “The whole thing is hopeless. There’s no way we’re gonna make it. Welp, let’s do this.”

This is what Peter Jackson’s trilogy got right when they had Gimli say, “Certainty of death, small chance of success—what are we waiting for?” It’s played for laughs there, but that really is the defiant optimistic pessimism that surrounds this story. It’s glorious. Gritty, stubborn, desperately clinging to life, bruised and bloody-knuckled and exhausted but still breathing, and clawing forward inch by inch if that’s all it can do. Relatable as heck, and inspiring like nothing else. Lord give me defiance like that.

Yooooo but that spat between the orcs tho. Now we know Gollum is still around, and nabbed Frodo’s mail shirt, and that word has reached the orcs that the Witch King is dead….and also orcs are ranked by numbers?? Very sophisticated. Very dehumanizing. Very Evil Overlord Army.

Sam hates Gollum with every thread of his being. And for good reason, too.

Frodo hears Sam’s whole story, and when it’s finished, he says nothing, but “took Sam’s hand and pressed it”.

I am. I am going buckwild about this. Didn’t I say that Frodo’s love language is Words of Affirmation, and Sam’s are Acts of Service and Physical Touch?? But here—here Frodo’s love language fails. He has no words left. He’s too exhausted. His love language offers him nothing. So he uses Sam’s.

I am. I am going to throw something. Scream. Cry, maybe. I just. AAAAAAAAAHHHHH—

“I’ll try and be a bit quicker, Sam.” FRODO I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT I WOULD KILL FOR YOU—

Sam just letting Frodo eat and drink the last of their store, and sleep on his own cloak, is. So much. Sam. You beautiful, self-sacrificial little saint, I would die for you (but you would probably insist on dying first).

Ooh, Gollum tried to come take the Ring while Sam was away getting water. Gaaaahhh, this is a so suspenseful.

Aaaand Frodo drank all the water LOL

Well, they’re caught. Here goes. Only about a page left to the chapter…

Oh! So the whole “hit me, start fighting” thing was invented by the movies. Makes sense. Couldn’t be too exciting, after all.

And what we have learned, kids, is that we can credit the survival of Middle Earth to the fact that Mordor doesn’t have traffic lights.

#frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #mention of: #theoden #meriadoc brandybuck #merry #aragorn #gollum #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #assorted thoughts

[astrronomemes]

CLOUD CULT: LIGHT CHASERS STARTERS (PART II)

a collection of lyrics taken from Cloud Cult’s Light Chasers album. change & alter as needed.

“It’s time for us to go.”

“We just need to get away.”

“We left all we own in a hole in our backyard.”

“I need to feel something different for just a little while.”

“I’m not coming home.”

“You can burn all my mail, and disconnect my phone.”

“Tell Mom I’m sorry.”

“I’m staying where I’m at.”

“We’re gone, and we’re never coming back.”

“If, for just a moment, you had to be responsible for all the things you’ve said and done, would you sit back and relax, or fasten all your safety belts?”

“Everybody’s judgment comes.”

“I blame everything just to keep my hands clean.”

“You need to be responsible for all the things you’ve said and done.”

“It’s not that easy to explain.”

“It’s far too easy to explain.”

“It is what it is.”

“You are what you are.”

“Just try to enjoy your day.”

“Please say it can’t be done.”

“Please say you can’t help me.”

“I’m gonna make it through. You’ll see.”

“I swear I’ll prove you wrong.”

“You haven’t seen the last of me.”

“It’s not impossible. You’ll see.”

“You’ve never been inside my head.”

“Let come what may come, and let go of what goes.”

“Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me!”

“Don’t worry. Don’t worry.”

“I feel like the sun.”

“I may have worries, but I’m not going crazy.”

“I can’t breathe unless you’re in my air.”

“When old age calls, we’ll share a rocking-chair.”

“The fuel is nearly spent.”

“Check the maps again.”

“We’re so close to it... so very close to it...”

“We still have energy in us.”

“Let’s get those engines lit!”

“The mission is over now.”

“I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I love you more than this.”

“I finally see it.”

“We were always close to it. So very close to it.”

“There’s so much energy in us.”

#rp meme #roleplay meme #rp starters #roleplay starters #dialogue prompts #rp memes #roleplay memes #sentence memes #sentence starters

[pedal-mail]

Hello I have been encouraged by even a singular person to post about Bjazz and that is good enough for me fosaodfin Cuz this will prolly get Long and also with the ten year anniversary of gw2 just happening and the game being released put up on steam causing an influx of new players, I’m gonna put this under a read more. Anyways... yeah.

Firstly... Here she is. Her current fit. Iconic. The gold eyes are out of place but she was born that way so rip sosiof (Although I did get a total makeover kit for the anniversary so... That might change, idk)

Bjazz Leftpaw (she/he) is a young adult Asura (barely 22 at the start of the game and either 23 or 24 at the point in game where I’m at now) and an engineer. She’s a college drop out (College of Dynamics specifically), which is a big deal for the Asura because the three colleges are as much a cultural thing as they are institutes of learning. Bjazz is by no means dumb but for a race of hyper intelligent little freaks (affectionate) being behind in school is a Big Deal. So dropping out entirely? Yikes.

Despite his father attempts to help him catch up for basically her entire life, he disowns her after she drops out. He’s a political man and trying to move upwards in the world and having a disgrace of a daughter isn’t good for his image. So... Out he goes. In the time between that and the beginning of the game’s story, she crashes with her friend and krewe leader Hronk (we love a good NPC). That’s where the game begins, with their krewe winning the Snaff Prize and Bjazz being named the Snaff Savant.

I cannot get too far into Bjazz’s story without bringing up Biarr. Biarr (he/him) is Bjazz’s older brother (a player character played by my older brother). Biarr graduated (I forget which college, whoops) and was pressured into taking a job with the government by he and Bjazz’s father. He actually studied to be an archeologist and accompanied a group to a dig of Orrian ruins. In an accident there, he becomes blind in one eye and is sent back home to recover. It’s at this point that he and Bjazz meet up again and their stories intersect for a while. Bjazz hides the fact he dropped out and Biarr doesn’t tell him about what happened on the dig so they’re both keeping secrets.

They complete the first parts of the personal story together, saving Professor Gorr from a corrupt Arcane Council (Asuran government) member and Biarr tagging along when Bjazz attempts to fix up an old project of hers (which of course goes wrong and causes Bjazz to kill an alternate version of herself which I actually never thought about the trauma behind that before huh). It’s around then that the two siblings split up again, both choosing to join one of the three orders. Biarr goes to the Priory cuz he’s a Smart Guy and Bjazz joins the Order of Whispers because she doesn’t think she’s smart enough for the Priory or strong enough for the Vigil.

In the Order of Whispers Bjazz is quickly paired up with Tybalt Leftpaw for a mission. Over the course of that mission, as well as through various others that aren’t a part of the game but exist in my head for Bjazz and Tybalt, the two of them bond. Tyblat become a sort of surrogate father to Bjazz, something he embraces easily (he calls her cub and it melts my heart y’all have no idea). Tybalt is one of, if not the, only people that Bjazz feels like he can fully open up to.

And then Claw Island happens. Because of course it does.

Claw Island is when Bjazz and Biarr cross paths again (they’ve been sending each other mail because they’re still Good Siblings, just in very different places). Both are there on behalf of their orders because they’ve both individually discovered something concerning that heavily points to the elder dragon Zhaitan and/or his minions will arrive in an attempt to get to Lion’s Arch.

(Elder dragons are the big bads and Lion’s Arch is a massive, multicultural city that I personally think of at the One Big City because I fucking hate Divinity’s Reach. If you wanna know more you should play the games. Or look it up, whatever osdfsoaifn)

Claw’s Island is attacked because of course it is, this is a video game and we need conflict to progress the story. Despite best efforts, the fort is overtaken and the Main Characters are forced to retreat. In a (successful) attempt to buy time for the groups’ escape, Tybalt (and also Sieran, a close friend that Biarr made in the Priory) return back to the main area of the fort to fight like hell. Bjazz attempts to go after them, fully aware that it’s a suicide mission and not willing to let Tybalt die, at least not without her too. Biarr and the rest of the group have to physically carry her to the boats to escape, but she is devastated. He’s barely able to stand, let alone fight, but finds the courage to do so anyway to avenge Tybalt and save Lion’s Arch.

I haven’t mentioned Trahearne yet. This is intentional. This is a Trahearne hate zone. If you like him, that’s totally fine, but I absolutely Do Not get it. I don’t wanna fight about this cuz I think it’s dumb to, but I just Do Not Like him. This extends to Bjazz because I’m not gonna make a character that loves a character I hate oaidsnfon

After Trahearne has his special big boy moment where his mama gave him a Cool Sword, he, Bjazz and Biarr (as well as the Lion Guard and the three orders) return to Claw Island to reclaim it. This is a successful venture and the city of Lion’s Arch (and the entirety of Tyria) are safe for a little while longer. Trahearne has the idea to unite the three orders to make the Pact, an army to defeat the elder dragons. He asks Bjazz to be his commander and she accepts cuz as much as she hates this fucker, he wants to fully avenge Tybalt and just generally have the elder dragons fuck off.

Bjazz has a Rough introduction to being the Commander of the Pact, almost immediately committing a war crime, whoops. Tricked by an enemy mesmer (a profession with illusion magic) into firing upon Pact soldiers, Bjazz is devastated all over again. She sets out to rescue an abandoned team while Biarr (who’s still here and is also a Mesmer himself) goes out to figure out what happened. Together they kill the enemy mesmer and move forward towards defeating Zhaitan.

I’m not gonna go into details about that because it’s just the in game events and you really should play it cuz it’s Very Good but it does eventually happen. A highlight of the event is that Bjazz tells Biarr that she dropped out of college while Zhaitan is basically right on top of them. After the elder dragon is defeated, in the middle of the massive Pact party, the two of them find some time to get away from it and talk about a Bjazz dropping out as well as some other things (I actually wrote this if anyone wants to see). The two of them are doing well, even though Biarr returns to the Priory while Bjazz stays in Fort Trinity to continue being the Pact’s commander. He takes Tybalt’s last name as a way to honor him and so a tiny bit of the father he wished he had more time with would always be with him.

That’s not going too great because Bjazz is Super Depressed (understandably). Around this time Newt Finknottle (he/him) shows up (another player character, played by my brother’s roommate). He’s basically Bjazz’s PR manager and government assigned gay best friend (I say that only half jokingly). He’s got his own backstory and motives but I am... losing steam odfinsaofd He’s there for the foreseeable future and Bjazz originally takes some issue with him (she doesn’t really want someone following her around and telling her how to act) but she warms up to him soon enough.

I left out a lot of details, specifically about Bjazz as a character which was actually what I wanted to post about, oops. I’ll probably post more stuff like this and maybe some of the writing if I get an okay from my brother but this is basically Bjazz throughout base game. I have a lot of love for her and am always ready to talk about her oisdfoifn This got really unorganized by the end and honestly kind of is throughout, sorry. I just love him a lot...

#Bjazz #getting her own tag here on My Blog #also he's a big ole lesbian #that didn't come up but is very important #also this is gonna go in main tag because fuck it #I may not be able to look at it cuz of spoilers but it's a relevant tag so it's fine #guild wars 2 #gw2 #gw2 oc

[authenticaussie]

fic writer interview!

How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 98 on my main!!

What’s your total AO3 word count?

413,645 words! Probably more in general, but I’ve not posted everything I’ve written :”) (something something, seven chapters of hoc buried somewhere, 2k of Conflagrate, a bunch of random drabbles aha)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

One Piece....just. mostly one piece. I've also got xovers for Aladdian and Merlin, and then, uhhh, I think in order it goes Power Rangers, TMNT, Naruto (ah, my sordid past), Hetalia, The Untamed, Homestuck, Batman, FMA, Carmen Sandiago, Undertale, Harry Potter, Rise of the Guardians, Ultraman X and The Avengers. Honestly??? More fandoms than I thought! 😳

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Flirtations of the Most Luffy-like Kind (zolu - where Luffy wants to kiss Zoro, but Zoro doesn’t realise he’s being flirted with.)

a subtle, simple perfect (Carmen Sandiago, where Carmen tries to get some information from Julia)

Gestures that are (Somewhat) Affectionate (Luffy talks with his hands. It’s a problem)

Bets and their Consequences (Ace tries to fake very real feelings for Marco)

Sparks (a marcoacesabo soulmate au where Marco tries to stop believing in soulmates)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I used to!! I still respond to comments on ff.n, but I kinda hate that ao3 counts your own comments to the total of the comments on the fic?  so I got out of the habit and now I have so many and it’s so many years later I feel rude replying to them djhjdhd. That’s. That’s literally the only reason :”)

I've always considered trying to get back into it...but. having my comments Count makes me crazyyy

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I think the one people are the most mad about is Count the Stars dkhjdhd I still get crying emojis from that one

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Ummm, I think the craziest one hasn’t been posted yet! But I do like writing xovers with x character superimplanted into a different world, mostly because I like exploring how that would change them. I don’t normally write xovers where other characters interact, mostly because I’m pretty heavy into Basically Only One Piece Ever

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Mmm, not directly in reviews? But I’ve received hate-adjacent comments - there was that whole fall during everything with the op*bb when I had some people lashing out or trying to pit me against the mod & also I’ve had some people mock a few of my things before? Like, to post my work and be like “wow what an example of why zolu sucks!” or if I express a negative opinion about a character or ship, sometimes I do get people who don’t accept that like.....I have a different opinion then them? But it doesn’t make THEIR opinion on their character/ship not valid. And they’re still allowed to like it even if I don’t?

I think the worst was when a friend said my writing was over dramatic aha. Like....yeah? Sorry that I like dumb romance contrivances? I dunno. I try and keep the mindset now, of like, so what if it’s overdramatic and I like things going wrong! but it does still hurt to think about. /shrug 

ANYWAY mostly I don't get hate mail and I'm really thankful for all the comments and support I DO get, you know? I save a lot of those comments for when I'm feeling down, and mostly, why talk about people who aren't gonna be nice when there are so many more people who ARE nice? My brain doesn't always believe it, if I ask, but I do know if I ever did post about being sad about my writing I would get some support from my quiet little followers. And they're/you guys are awesome! 🥰

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Not anything worth publishing. The most I really veer to is stuff like XXXcessory. It's not my forté

'what kind', tho...variations of mas, what else?

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

hdkshdgg yeah it’s really exhausting. It happens every now and then and I have to keep searching for it, which just....sucks. so much ):

The funniest one was when someone posted a section from one of my fics and just changed the names to be for OCs but didn't change them all the way! So it just looked SO badly written 🤭

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! It delights me. Fic translators are super cool. I have fics in Russian and Chinese now. And a podfic! 🥰

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Lucky and I have written fics before and it's so much fun 🥰🥰 We've yet to publish them tho. Mostly because I keep forgetting. Tried to do a BB asl-as-dragons project with Minister-of-silly-walks but then stuff happened and I dropped off the face of the earth. Also I've written fics and done roleplay ish fics with Lolles, and done live rps with Nez and Rbooks!! I think co-writing fics is fun :3

What’s your all time favourite ship?

///w\\\\\ marcoacesabo, probably. I’m such a sucker

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

The Stretch Armstrong and the Flex Fighters rewrite. It had so much POTENTIAL, man!!!!!!!!! YOU JUST TWEAK LIKE FIVE THINGS AND IT BECOMES AN ACTUALLY FANTASTIC AND WELL CONSTRUCTED SHOW WITH MULTIPLE THEMES! PLEASE!

also probably the Shazam!Angus au. I would love to write it but I just. Am bad at writing not-one piece haha. (Though ask me about it whenever, I will TOTALLY stop drop and roll over to info dump. I just think Angus being Shazam and tres horny boys accidental adoption is SO GOOD.) Also the trollhunters/taz crossover (Magnus is Jim) where I fix the fucking ending bc it sucked 🔪

What are your writing strengths?

lol

Okay no I joke I can definitely think of some

UM. I think one of them is being very clear and snappy? I like to make sure that my writing isn't florid or purple prose stuff. And I like writing like that, to make things fun for people to read, you know? I think I write good people? As in, the way they interact with each other? And I think I do a good job on dialogue 🥰

What are your writing weaknesses?

Subtext? I like things to HAPPEN and be clear, and I rush into things. Longfic is a struggle because I just want it to HAPPEN! I also put a lot of pressure on myself when writing for other people, which then leads me to. Literally not writing at all for years :") not the best move aha.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Depends on how you do it!!! I love the inclusion of bilingual rep etc. but there's a difference in rep vs. just dropping random words etc. (of which I am also very much guilty of shskfh). I think it's super cool but ALSO. if it's not translated. omg pls. That hurts me.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

allmighty sjhjshs UHH

oh no shit it was DEF Naruto. I wanted to impress a girl I liked.... whoops

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

The Bearing of Marks - I just kinda think it's well written, character wise, I like the descriptions I used; it feels poignant and well-crafted and a lot of it is subtext which I'm not fantastic at. It's one of the pieces I use most often for zine entries aha, because I think it's really solid

Tagged by: @touchmycoat​

Tagging: ahh oh god. Literally dm me and I'll tag you!!! But I can't think of anyone rn/I actually kinda hate tagging people because I'm never around lmao

#bip bop nari drops #text #it took. so long to think of writing strengths. so hard to do self analysis 😭😔 #ask games #rb bait

[starcchild]

Did Maya ever try to reach out to Carter in the IKAU? I know you said in Carter's main verse her mother mails her a necklace so is that the same for the IKAU? And did she ever try to reach out to her in the main verse outside of that one package?

((this is something I wanna add as a hc for the ikau rewrite, but yes! Maya did try to reach out to Carter in the ikau! She actually tried to reach out to Carter multiple times following Tony’s death but, surprise surprise, Obadiah refused each attempt, and threatened to get authorities involved, citing that Maya had legally/willfully abandoned Carter years prior, and claimed that Carter wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. Maya was absolutely pissed at that, but she did back off at the threat, since he was correct on the abandonment bit, and knew she absolutely had nothing to back her case if he did try to take things in a legal matter, although it honestly did break her heart. And, legal matters aside, if Carter wanted nothing to do with her, she wasn’t going to push to be in her life, because she knew damn well she had hurt her. Maya’s a lot of things, but she did truly care about Carter, and she was genuinely worried about her after everything that had happened. She wanted to be there if Carter would let her be, but that... never got to happen, because Carter had no idea that Maya tried reaching out to her in the first place since Obadiah kept that hush-hush.

now, Obadiah prevented Maya from seeing Carter for three reasons. One) he hated her. It had nothing to do with trying to protect Carter or whatever, he just never liked Maya, and the feeling was very mutual. Like, he always thought Carter was a distraction to Tony, so he blamed Maya for that, but also they never got along from the few times they interacted whenever Obadiah had to meet with Killian, since I do plan on having him be involved with AIM following his retirement from SI. Maya thought he was an arrogant asshole from the beginning, but unfortunately didn’t realize the extent of his behavior, and even if she did, there really wasn’t anything she could do, considering he had power and money and she didn’t. Two) Carter’s reactor is fueled with the precursor to the centipede serum, which included extremis, something that Maya had absolutely had no knowledge about. She was left in the dark about Killian’s side-project with centipede, and left in the dark that Carter was subject zero for that experimentation - had she known, she would’ve flipped. And, three) it just goes back to Obadiah wanting to keep Carter isolated. Although Carter has a lot of mixed feelings about her mother, there was a part of her that wanted to have a relationship with her, or at least be able to talk to her about why she left, and he couldn’t risk them actually bonding, and her having someone she could go to other than him. And it was easier just to keep Maya away in the guise that Carter wanted nothing to do with her, instead of trying to drive them apart later on like how he had to do with Carter and Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy.

so, for the necklace, I gotta,,, figure that out dsfgjhfd - Carter’s still gonna have it! But I think I’m gonna change it to where Maya left it with Tony when she gave him full custody of Carter, although Carter wouldn’t have started wearing it until she was older, since it doesn’t,,, seem like a great idea to give a four-year-old a necklace lol - but! that would mean Carter would have it in the ikau as well as her main verse! Though, she could still have the necklace in the ikau as is, although she would’ve gotten it much later down the line. Maya would’ve still mailed her the package when she turned sixteen as a birthday gift, but because she wouldn’t have known where Carter was, she would’ve mailed it to Tony’s Malibu address in the hopes it’d still get to Carter. The package would’ve been picked up by Pepper, Happy, or Rhodey, however, since, y’know, Tony’s dead and Carter doesn’t live at the mansion (although it is still Stark property, as it would become Carter’s when she turned 20), so Carter wouldn’t have known about it until after Obadiah’s death and her being told she has the Malibu property, as well as a lot more money and other assets. And while that’d work, I want Carter to have the necklace earlier than her twenties? which is why I’m thinking about writing it so she had it when she was young, and Maya sending her something else when she turned sixteen. Idk for certain, I still gotta figure all that out dshkjgsdjh

now, for Maya reaching out to Carter in the main verse outside of that package, I’m gonna say probably not. While Maya did still love her despite leaving her, Maya was definitely married to her work, and she still believed it was in Carter’s best interest she stayed away, not just because of the hurt she caused by leaving her, but also because Maya never fully trusted Killian. That was the reason why she left Carter with Tony in the first place - she feared Carter would somehow get caught in her work, but was far too prideful/determined to make extremis work to give it up, and made another poor decision in a field of many poor decisions. So, for Carter’s safety, she kept her distance, but also because she honestly believed Carter was in a better situation she could’ve given her had she kept her, and definitely believed Carter was better off with Tony than she was in foster care. Because, in her mind, even if Tony was distant as a father, Carter would at least have a very comfortable lifestyle growing up, and would’ve had people taking care of her someway or another. That doesn’t mean Maya didn’t worry about her, and she definitely thought about reaching out to Tony and Carter often, but... thought it was better she continued to keep her distance for the both of them. The main reason she sent the package in the first place was because, a) turning sixteen is a big deal and she wanted to do something for Carter; and b) wanted to let her know she did still love her but it was in her best interest she wasn’t in her life, although Maya never went into exact detail as to why she said that, and it wasn’t even something Carter knew to begin with since Carter tossed her letter instead of reading it. 

though... I gotta figure it out, but maybe Maya tried reaching out to Carter when Tony disappeared during im1? But, with that, since Obadiah was Carter’s legal guardian at that point in time as well, I think he would’ve just kept Maya away, although on the sole reason that Maya abandoned Carter and Obadiah wanted nothing to do with her. They wouldn’t have known each other then since Obadiah didn’t get involved with AIM in Carter’s main verse, so he just didn’t want to deal with any potential drama by letting Maya into Carter’s life, and not because of him trying to keep Carter isolated. But that’d probably really be the only time Maya tried reaching out to Carter in the main verse outside of her sixteenth birthday, ahah.

if Maya had lived in either verse, I... honestly think her relationship with Carter would be cordial at best and, while Carter would acknowledge her as her mother (though Carter does that anyway in her main verse and the ikau as is), I don’t think it’d ever really be what it could’ve been as a mother and daughter, if that makes sense? Maya lost that and she knows it, and would never force Carter to have a relationship with her, but Carter would want to know her mother, but she wouldn’t... really connect with her, or see her as true family, in a sense. Like, sure, she’s her blood family, but Carter doesn’t hold much in that regard - for her, family is very much so who she wants in her life, regardless if they’re related to her or not. Her friends are her family, and so are the Avengers, because she cares for them and they care for her, and she’s happy with that. She knows blood isn’t everything, and that’s a belief that wouldn’t change even if Maya came back.

#asks #anons #ikau headcanons #death mention tw #headcanons

[average-entropy]

Dear @glimmerglanger,

I can’t properly express the joy that your writing gives me, it’s beautiful and painful and it makes me FEEL things, and it’s wonderful. So, since it’s your birthday I thought that I should do my best to give the same in turn. I have some writing in the by the sea verse that I did after those fics snatched my soul from my chest and merrily danced away with it that I’ve dug out from the WIP pile on my computer and copy pasted under the cut below. It’s all very rough and outlined and unfinished, but if you enjoy gift fic, in honor of your birthday please have this loose pile of strings I had in my pocket.

Best wishes for your day and the year ahead!

(Also p.s. I apologize for any formatting errors. I have lurked on this hellsite for many years, but am but a humble posting novice).

Story One – Fives Lives because (sobs) reasons

//One year after his marriage to Cody, Obi-wan finds Fives, in this fic he’s only “dead” and has been instead captured by sociopathic rich men (led by the one, the only, Sheev palpatine) who want to make him into an exhibit but first must figure out how to not have him look dead all the damn time >:( #millionare problems.

 //How did Fives get captured? If he’s Eyeyah’s twin then canonically he’s too young to be in battle, and in canon curiosity is (literally :_(  fff) his fatal flaw. So maybe Fives was the little mermaid of his family, just really curious about the surface and ships and humans and basically everything that anyone ever told him to stay away from. And then one day he ended up beaching himself/straying too close to a fishing net or boat and ending up captured.

 //Did his family just assume that he went out exploring and the shark riders got him? For maximum hurt, did he get hurt on Rex’s watch? Maybe Fives and Eyeyah begged to shadow Rex on the front, and Rex was like, fine, but you have to stay with the healers, promise me. and they were like, I’m not gonna leave the caaave, and then Fives fucking left the cave.

 //So, either immediately or eventually he ends up in the clutches of rich man asshole sheev palpatine and his rich man asshole friends. If he was captured by a local fisherman, and sold, then sheev like for sure had tarkin shoot them to protect the secrecy of his investment or whatever, which would make Obi-wan’s eventual rescue of Fives all the dicey in Fives’ mind, like he sees money changing hands (or trying to) before Sheev and his cronies get merked by Obi-wan and he’s like oh look, the girls are fighting again, guess this guy owns me now

 Linebreak***

 Cody is visiting, when the letter comes in. It’s on thick, expensive paper, and back dated about a month or so. It’s addressed to him, but has apparently taken a rather circuitous route to get here; it was sent originally to the offices of one of the journals he publishes for, and from there to the post office box he retains for business, in a city down the coast, and then in the monthly forward to his post office box in town, where he goes weekly to collect his mail and pick up various foods and delicacies for his new in-laws.

 “What is this?” Cody asks, enunciating each word carefully. Now that Obi-wan is learning more and more Mando, there’s really no need for him to speak English, but he insists. He wants to learn Obi-wan’s language, he says, just as Obi-wan is learning his. Cody pauses, a teasing look crossing his face. “Love letter?”

 Obi-wan snorts, curling his hand over Cody’s shoulder where he’s leaning on the little dock built out directly out from Obi-wan’s home. “Hardly. Business letter. Let’s see …”

 He reads over it and finds himself tsking in annoyance. More rich men gotten in over their heads, trying to keep some poor aquatic creature in a tiny tank for exhibit and wondering why it doesn’t thrive there as it does in the ocean. He hates these jobs, but he’s worked before, discretely, with the authorities to get some of the men arrested on charges of poaching and the animals released, so it’s worth it to go. To try.

 “More fish in cages?” Cody asks, reading Obi-wan’s expression. He’s gotten frightfully good at it, better than anyone Obi-wan ever knew besides Anakin, and though it frightens him a little, it warms him inside; fills him, with a kind of quiet wonder.

 “Yes, I fear so.” Obi-wan sighs. “Quite far away, this time … I can tell them no.”

 “Why?” Cody asks, frowning. He switches over to Mando’a. “Why would you tell them no?”

 “Because you just got here, and I’d be gone for a few weeks, at the least-”

 Cody makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “I leave for my work. I do it all the time.”

 “Oh, but that’s,” Obi-wan waves his hand back and forth, the letter rustling as he does. “That’s different, your work is important-”

 “So is yours,” Cody says, tugging at both of Obi-wan’s hands until Obi-wan relents and meets his eyes. “And even if it weren’t, it’s important to you. I don’t expect you to just … wait around here for me. You’ve made yourself a life; it’s … you have the right to live it.”

 “Oh,” Obi-wan says dumbly, and Cody’s eyes go sad and wounded.

 “I don’t want you trapped here,” he says, more softly, brushing his thumbs over the back of Obi-wan’s hands. “I’m sorry if I made you feel as though I did.”

 “No, no,” Obi-wan says softly, in Mando’a, before switching back to English, where his thoughts are easier to articulate. “It was nothing that you did. I just … I want to make you happy.”

 “You already make me happy,” Cody says fervently, pressing closer to Obi-wan and nuzzling against his stomach. Obi-wan blushes, can’t not, and Cody makes a pleased click. “So happy. You’re my heart – it doesn’t matter where you go. We’re always together.”

 “Alright,” Obi-wan agrees. “I’ll go.”

 Linebreak***

 Cody, Wolv and even Kix are adamantly in favor of sending at least a guard or two with him, but it’s much farther north than Obi-wan usually goes and he’s worried that this time of year especially the water will be too cold for merfolk. Or at least, a Mandalorian or a Togrutan. It’s possible that so far away there are different Mermaid societies, perfectly adapted to the cold. And if there are other Mermaid kingdoms there, what if Obi-wan bringing in a foreigner sparks some kind of war? That’s the last thing that they need. It’s not worth it, for something that’s so low risk.

 None of his new family agree. It seems that Obi-wan is the only human they trust, and that in particular there are no humans they are willing to trust specifically with Obi-wan. Apparently the spot of charred land where Obi-wan’s cabin used to stand still looms freshly in everyone’s minds. But at the end of the day, unless they want to have him tailed – which Obi-wan honestly wouldn’t put past Wolv, but which he knows Cody would never allow – there’s nothing they can really do. He agrees to an escort across the ocean, but holds firm on going up the coast alone, and so it’s near the site of his old cabin that Obi-wan parts from Cody and the guard and continues north with only Boga and his sidearm to accompany him.

 Linebreak***

 //When Obi-wan gets to Palpatine’s offices the sheer volume of shady vibes they have going on is enough to make him certain that these guys are poachers. And since Palpatine is Too Rich ™ to remember names (of plebes) he’s like, to Ameda and Tarkin, “oh yes, this is the marine biologist, Dr…?”

 //And Obi-wan’s like … vibe check failed, my name is … Ben Sky.

 //And they’re like nice to meet you Dr. Sky, thank you so much for coming, let’s go upstairs, this is a private matter.  And they lead him up to Palpatine’s private office, Tarkin, Palpatine and Amedda all supremely amused for some reason, in a very discomforting way. Obi-wan’s like, ew, lets just get this over with, so the second the door is closed he’s like, alright so what kind of shark do you have and how big is it.

 //And palpatine’s like (evil smile) oh, my dear doctor, it’s no shark at all. It would be easiest if you just … took a look. And so he goes over to the safe to get a key out – and Obi-wan sees the gun inside and is like, great, gut feeling confirmed – and uses it to open the steel door to his closet.

 //Inside which is a person sized tank. With a merman in it. A Mandalorian merman. And Obi-wan freezes.

 //The others obviously see his shock and they’re laughing about it, like oh ho isn’t it so funny, look at his face, while meanwhile Obi-wan’s categorizing all the damage that’s been done to this person by keeping them in the tank, oh god, but if he knows how to do one thing it’s how to compartmentalize, so he’s like, okay, get a grip, how are we going to play this.

 //So he very carefully gathers himself up and pretends that he’s never seen a merman before in his goddamn life, makes them convince them this is actually real and not some sort of freakish embalmed corpse sewn onto a fishtail type thing. And so then Palpatine’s like great, it’s clearly dying and we can’t exhibit it like this, how do we fix it. And Obi-wan’s like, how should I know, it shouldn’t even exist, and Palpatine’s like, humor me (and I’ll pay you like a million dollars)

 //And Obi-wan’s like, fine, if I had to guess the tank is too small. The most common reason sharks die in captivity is because they don’t have big enough tanks. I’d recommend just building it an enclosure in the ocean, to be honest, rather than trying to haul that much salt water in in a day. And do it fast, too, it looks like it’s on it’s last legs.

 //And Palpatine and Amedda and Tarkin are like mmm yes I see, fascinating, and Ammeda’s like, we have that boathouse, and Palpatine’s like yes, that would be perfect, how soon can you have it ready, Tarkin, and Tarkin’s like – tomorrow night if you can pay well enough.

 //And Palpatine’s like, wonderful, and he writes down the address for Obi-wan and is like, we’ll meet you there tomorrow night, so you can make sure what we’ve built is sufficient, and then we’ll give you your fee. Thanks for doing business. Let me shake your hand and threaten with my eyes that if you tell anyone we’ll kill you, oh truly this was a pleasure

 //And Obi-wan’s like great. See you then. And then he does some shopping. Beginning with snagging Palpatine’s gun, out of his safe.

 Linebreak***

 Obi-wan doesn't allow himself to think of what he's doing as he's doing it. He learned, in the army, how not to acknowledge that you were killing someone as you killed them. How to push it down, and lock it away, as long as you could, until eventually later it overtook you…

 Obi-Wan shoots Amedda and Tarkin quick as a blink. Good shots, clean shots. The bullet Tarkin tried to fire goes wide, shattering a window, and Palpatine jerks in his grip.

 Obi-wan keeps him still until he's sure the other two are down and then moves around to his front. His hands are steady as he keeps the barrel of his gun leveled at Palpatine's heart.

 "Dr. Sky," the man says, hands up. Even with his two compatriots lying dead on the floor, bleeding out over the scattered bills - his tone is still smooth and composed, still so sickly sweet. Monster, Obi-wan can’t help but think. "Ben. You don't have to do this. Whoever it is, that you're working for, I'm sure you and I can come to a better arrangement. Money is not the only thing I can offer you-"

 Obi-wan plucks Tarkin's dropped gun up off the floor and shoots. Once, twice, three times, the first one through Palpatine's heart and the other two wild, to make it look as though Tarkin was firing as he went down. Palpatine falls, with a gurgling gasp, the same kind as Obi-wan's heard so many times before...

 No. No. He doesn't have time for one of his fits. if the police come, while the merman is still here, then the consequences will be catastrophic. He sets Tarkin's gun back down exactly where it had originally landed and curls the one he swiped from the safe in the offices into Palpatine’s hand. And then he goes, to crouch down by the pool.

 The merman is watching him with narrowed, dark eyes. He hasn't flashed any color,  but his spikes are halfway out, and really, if Obi-wan just saw someone murder three people in cold blood, he'd be wary too.

 He strips off his gloves and shoves them into his pockets. His hands are numb and shaky, but he un-buttons his shirt as fast as he can and peels it aside to display the mark that sits large and prominent over his heart. The merman jerks, eyes going wide, and Obi-wan holds them steadily as he says, “I am here for helping you. Swear by Sho’cye. Please let me helping you. Please.”

 “You speak,” the man says, voice raw and rough with emotion. “You are … you are a Mandalorian’s heart?”

 “Yes,” Obi-wan agrees. “And he is my heart. Not hurting him, ever. Not hurting you either. But other humans will come soon, because of … weapon noise. Need to leaving, quickly. Before they see you.”

 “Yes,” the man says, shaking himself as if coming out of a daze. “Yes, we need to – do you know how to … how to get this cage away?”

 “I do but … coming into water for that. Cutting through.” Obi-wan holds up the shears he’s brought for that purpose. “Is this okay?”

 The man hesitates for a moment, but then he nods. Obi-wan nods back, and slips into the water. He weakens enough of the wires as he can, and then heaves, until the metal rends and he’s able to pull back a segment of the fencing. And then there’s nothing too it, but for him and the man to swim through.

 He leads the man out into the bay, to where he’s anchored the Memory, glad to see that by the look of things no one has bothered it. Boga is still lounging on the deck, and the light is still shining in the cabin.

 “Your boat?” The man asks, eying it warily as Obi-wan swims up to it, and Obi-wan nods.

 “I’ll be leaving you here, if you prefer. Or you can swimming beside boat as we go back. But I can be also giving you ride; taking care of you. You’re being very injured, I think. I am worrying that … the better it would be if you were gotten back fast. To your people, and the healers. I’m not knowing well how to help you.”

 He knows, certainly, much better that he did when he found Cody. But he’s not a doctor, for either of their species, and he knows that there are treatments specifically for merfolk that he can’t offer.

 The man – the young man, really, older than Eyeyah but not by much – wavers. And Obi-wan can’t blame him. He can guess how the others captured him. It likely involved a boat, much like this. But the man’s eyes flicker back down to Obi-wan’s open shirt, to the mark on his chest. And he nods.

 Obi-wan dives down and shows him the hatch under the boat, how to get in and out, and that seems to ease him further. He’s waiting, in the pool inside the cabin when Obi-wan and Boga come in. Boga wags her tail, but Obi-wan forces her to sit by the door, where she collapses with a whine, laying her head on her paws and making cow eyes at him. But the poor man’s been through enough without having to submit to the eager sniffs and licks of an unfamiliar creature.

 “What is that,” the man asks, eying her warily.

 “A dog – a pet, like an octopus. But very friendly – not hurting. And I keeping her away.” Obi-wan draws a little closer, and sets the bucket and bowl he’s brought down by the edge of the pool. “Here. For eating. I bring more, but, looks like they not feeding you well. So many small meals are being better. Keep you from sick.”

 The man glances, at Obi-wan’s chest, where his tattoo is still visible under the sopping fabric of his shirt. He reaches into the bucket, selects a fish, and dives a little further into the pool to eat. But he thanks Obi-wan as he goes, and that’s progress.

 Linebreak***

 Before now, Obi-wan has only ever committed one type of crime in his life, but though he is new to … murder, at least the illegal kind, he knows how bad it would be for him to flee town immediately. So he remains at the docks for the night, enquires at Palpatine’s offices in the morning, and then goes back to the boat to wait.

 He’s tried his best to explain to the merman why they would not be heading underway immediately, and though he didn’t look exactly pleased with the news, he doesn’t immediately flee out the hatch. He spends most of his time alternating between sleeping and eating; which, Obi-wan can only hope, will at least put him in a position to better survive if he does ultimately decide to strike out on his own. Obi-wan tries to give him his space, and spends most of his time out on the deck with Boga, reading or working on his most recent manuscript.

 On the third day, the police finally come. There are only two of them. Hopefully they would have brought more, if they were come to arrest a man who’d murdered three people.

 He walks himself down to the lower deck, Boga trotting happily by his side, as they clearly pause in front of his slip. “Hello, can I help you?”

 “We’re looking for a marine biologist?” the older of the two asks – the younger one seems preoccupied with patting Boga, who’s jumping up and wagging her tail with glee.

 “That would be me – well, I didn’t go to school for it, so perhaps it’s a bit presumptuous to claim as such. But I have published, in scientific journals and the like.”

 The officer nods politely, but doesn’t look all that interested in the specificities of Obi-wan’s professional qualifications. “And what do you know of a man called Sheev Palpatine?”

 Obi-wan’s mouth turns down with a displeasure that he does not try to hide. “That I suspected him of poaching; though if you’re here asking me about him, I suppose you already know that.”

 The younger one opens his mouth, no doubt to try to correct Obi-wan as to why they’re actually here, but the older one gestures him to be quiet. “And why did you suspect that.”

 “Well, he’d written to me, asking me to come out and see some large aquatic creature that he caught, that was not adjusting well to life in captivity. I have the letter somewhere, here amongst my papers, if you’d like …”

 The older officer nods, and Obi-wan goes up to the top deck to fetch it. The older passes it off to the younger to review, and gestures for Obi-wan to continue.

 “It’s not uncommon for me to receive such letters, and they’re usually from men who’ve managed somehow to get their hands on sharks, either to keep as pets or to exhibit. For all the wealthy seem to be enthralled with them, sharks do not do well in captivity – they die quickly. So their owners panic, and rush to me to try to protect their investment. I suspected this was the situation Mr. Palpatine had gotten himself in, and so I agreed to come, to see what manner of creature it was. And suspecting that if it was indeed a shark, it was almost certain that …”  

 “He’d poached it,” the older officer fills in, lips turning down, and Obi-wan nods.

 “Some smaller species of shark are legal to own – but most are either captured illegally, or bought and sold on the black market. When I went to his offices, to meet with him, he was incredibly cagey. I asked outright what the animal was that he had, but he’d only describe it in broad terms … approximate size, what kind of tank it was kept it, the like. I told him time and time again that it would be difficult to help him if he wouldn’t tell me what it was, let alone whether or not I could see the creature, but he was reluctant. I finally just recommend that he secure a much larger area for it to swim, since that never hurts, and suggested that perhaps once it was relocated, I could see it in person. He said he would contact me in a day or two, but he never did.”

 “Was anyone else in this meeting with him?”

 “Yes. A friend of his – another fop to be frank – called Amedda, who was investing in the project, and another man, Tarkin … he honestly seemed a rather unsavory character, and he never really said what his exact role in all of it was.”

 The officers exchange a look, and the older one nods.

 “It’s … nothing we’ve ever been able to prove, but it’s common knowledge that he’s – was – mobbed up,” the younger one nods. “Based on what you’re telling us, I’d guess that he one that obtained the animal in question. His crime family is well connected to the blank market.”

 “Was,” Obi-wan says, and the older officer shuffles around, pulling some pictures out of a briefcase.

 “He was killed, a couple days ago, in what seems to have been a violent altercation between him, Mr. Palpatine and Mr. Amedda. It seems as though they took your advice. They were in a boathouse, down by the warf, recently purchased, and they’d fenced off an area of the water. We also found a dried out tank in their offices, so presumably this was was where they’d moved whatever it was that they had.”

 “Presumably? You mean, you didn’t find it there.”

 The man shuffles through his pictures to find the one he wants, and passes it over to Obi-wan. It’s of the section of the wire, that he cut. He studies over it, before passing his back.

 “Looking that, I’m almost positive that it was a shark, and just as large as they’d claimed, too, to have been strong enough to rend the wire like that.”

 “You really think a shark would be that smart?” The younger one asks, a bit doubtfully, and Obi-wan shrugs.

 “Smart, perhaps not, but very practiced. The great whites are drawn to the lobster traps, especially when they’re young and inexperienced and looking for an easy meal. Eventually some of them figure out how to get into them, through trial and error. Talk to any trapper, and they can show you a dozen of their larger boxes ripped up just like this.”

 “You’re making me glad it was gone before we’d gotten there,” the younger officers says, grimacing.

 “We’d thought that one of them had let it go, or tried to steal it, and that’s what set off the argument.” The older officer says, a questioning tilt to his tone.

 “It’s possible, but I think unlikely, if only because I’d imagine that whoever attempted such a thing would have ended up … somewhat perforated. It’s a myth, that sharks attack people, at least the wild ones. They mostly only attack when provoked, like all large animals. But they’re not necessarily picky eaters, if they’re truly hungry enough, and those in captivity, that have been cooped up and underfed – will bite first and ask questions later, if given the chance.”

 “Now I’m really glad it was gone before we got there,” the younger officer mutters, eyes wide. “Guess if it got out on its own they still could have suspected eachother, anyway.”

 “Either that, or tempers started running hot when they realized their cash cow’d escaped,” the older officer says tiredly, tucking his photos away. “You tie up a lot of money in something and then that thing’s gone? That’s when the guns usually come out, especially with the mob involved. The only thing we gotta worry about now is a pissed shark out in the harbor. You think this thing’s going to stick around, head for the beaches?”

 “I’d doubt it; it will naturally be drawn back to deeper waters on it’s own. And I think it’s had quite enough of people for a lifetime,” Obi-wan says, and none of that is even a lie.

The older officer snorts. “Haven’t we all. Well, we appreciate you talking to us, helping us tie up some loose ends. This is all pretty open and shut, we’ll probably have it closed out by the end of the week. You mind we take down your address, of that letter, just in case we need it later?”

 Obi-wan gives them the number of his city PO Box, says he’s frequently on the water but he sees everything usually in a month or two. They seem unbothered by this, and with one last pat to Boga, amble off the way they came.

 It was all so very easy, in the end, except for the chill, still lingering in his chest.

 They set out the next morning, after Obi-wan’s done a night’s worth of fishing, and stocked up in the city on whatever else they might need. The man is still asleep, as they get underway, and so Obi-wan leaves him his plate of food and dives down to secure the bottom hatch himself, sealing it off against the water of the sea. He’ll leave it open at night, so his guest can leave, if he wants, but not while they’re moving. It won’t do either of them any good if he gets sucked right out into the ocean.

 He makes good time, managing to get a third of the way down the coast before pulling into a bay for the night and casting out the lines and diving down to open the hatch. Then, there’s nothing else for it to check on his guest.

 Linebreak***

 Reyshe’ase wakes to the feeling of vibrations, through the water, and for a second he thinks they’re the drums of home. But he quickly comes to his senses, and remembers where he is. He’s on the boat, of the impossible human, the one who has a Mandalorian heart. The human who said that they’d start moving, come morning, which would account for the vibrations. He’d warned Rayshe’ase that he’d be sealing the hatch, at the bottom, otherwise the current created by the movement would just suck Rayshe’ase out; and a quick dive refers that he’s done so. But even if this was all a trick, even if the human never opens that hatch again … it’s still better than where he was. More space, better food, and someone that can actually speak, properly speak, words that Rayshe’ase hasn’t heard in so long…

 The human has left him a lot more food than usual, and a … a note, whose characters he recognizes, heart leaping, even if they’re on a weird dry white thing, that crumples when touched. Mine guest, I must staying out to steering while we move, but please shouting need me. Am hoping I leave to you enough food for the day, but there is being more. If all are being well, I will coming back once we stop for the night, for checking on you.

 It's not signed with anything. Do the humans not have names, to call eachother by? Reyshe’ase has spent … too long, around them, but he’s tried his best to learn as little as he can of them. What more was there to learn, than that they were exactly as monstrous as they’d always been taught? His energies were better focused to remembering, on dreaming of home, of giving himself over to the stale, awful water of his prison and hoping that he’s just … fall asleep, and not wake up.

 Perhaps he’s gotten his wish, and this is all a dream. It seems fantastical enough.

 He spends the day just as he has the previous ones, swimming up to eat when his stomach wakes him, and then sinking down into the soft embrace of the water to sleep. This fresh lovely water, that makes it easy to rest, easy to reach for the pleasant memories of home in his dreams. They were at war, when he was taken, he knows. But in his dreams, he can return to his childhood, memories of him and all his brothers racing through the water at the edges of the cove, of going to the surface and daring eachother to poke their heads above water. Of sleeping, at night, curled up in bed with Eyeyah, their Mom’s soft singing coming close from the next room.

 He's woken for the first time not by his stomach, but by a noise down below, and his heart pounds in alarm until he realizes what it is; the human, unsealing the hatch at the bottom, so that Rayshe’ase can unhook the metal door and leave, if he wanted. Just like the human promised.

 He uses his dwindled strength to swim up so that his head, at least, is above the water. And waits.

 The human comes in with more buckets, the creature, and with … much less clothes. He only wears some small cloth around his waist, concealing where his body splits to form his legs, and nothing else. His skin is odd, and pale, and it only makes the ink on him stand out more sharply. The scars, too, so many; as many as Rayshe’ase’s father ever had. A warrior. And a long, beautiful string of pearls, strung around one of his legs in the same pattern a Mandalorian would string about their tail. Proof of marriage, proof that whosever heart he makes beat must love him dearly, to give such a lavish gift.

 The human tells the creature – who he calls useless, for some reason – to sit, as he always does, and it makes the same noise as it always does as it complies. He gives Rayshe’ase a tentative smile, and sets the buckets down by the edge of the pool.

 “We are stopping for the night. Brining you this, if you wanted for bathing.” He dips his hand into the bucket, and lifts it up, showing Rayshe’ase the … the sand, merciful Sho’cye, the sand, and he hears himself make a pained, desperate sound in the back of his throat, but it’s been so long since he’s been clean that the rot has sunk into his scales …

 He scrambles forward for it, sloshing water against the sides of the pool and out over the floor, but he doesn’t care, he seizes a handful of sand and scrubs, hard and fast against his tail. but he’s weak, so weak, and the sand drifts out of his hand as his arm falls away, he can’t even bathe himself …

 “Is okay,” the human is murmuring, soft and low. “Shh, shh, Is okay. I are helping, yes? I are helping you. Don’t worrying.”

 The human unlocks some sort of latch, and one of the walls that keeps water from splashing up out of the pool swings away. The human unrolls some sort of lumpy fabric thing on the floor, and then … and then he’s lifting Rayshe’ase up and out of it, so that his top half is spread out on the fabric thing, with his tail still in the water. The fabric thing, it’s soft, almost like a bed of kelp, and the whole arrangement becomes even more comfortable when the human slips carefully into the water and raises up some sort of platform that supports most of the weight of Rayshe’ase’s tail, so that he’s lying completely prone. He hasn’t been able to lie down in what feels like so long, he’s almost forgotten the feeling of it.  It’s glorious.

 “Okay?” The human asks, and Rayshea nods. The human swings another one of the walls away and sits so that his legs are left dangling in the water, the weird bend of them brushing against Rayshe’ase’s tail. He reaches over for the bucket, and lifts out a handful of sand. He meets Rayshe’ase’s eyes, and asks, carefully, “I helping you?”

 Rayshe’ase can’t say that he wants the human touching him, wants anyone touching him, but by Sho’cye he so wants to be clean. So he nods, and the human carefully starts sprinkling sand over his tail, and gently rubbing it through the dead scales and filth layering Rayshe’ase’s fin.

 The human goes slow, and careful, and stops whenever Rayshea’se makes pained noise, to slather on ointment that smells as though it could have come straight from Kix’s shelves. It didn’t – it must have been given to the human by his heart – but it still makes him flash with sorrow, still makes him shake, and the human hushes him gently, and starts to sing.

 Linebreak***

//After Rayshe’ase’s bath, Obi-wan asks if he wants to go down through the hatch and swim around a little, and when it becomes apparent that Fives can’t really swim at all, since he’s been trapped in a tank, Obi-wan’s like, okay, here’s what we’ll do, and makes a loose loop around Rayshe’ase’s chest, under his arms, and ties the other end of the rope around his waist, and swims around, dragging Rayshea’se through the water behind him.

 //And even though he’s not swimming it feels like he’s swimming and it’s a very emotional and comforting experience for him.

 //They repeat this process when they stop every night, having Rayshe’ase swim when he can and Obi-wan drag him when he can’t, to build his muscles back up, and this dispels any lingering doubts that Rayshea’se has that Obi-wan isn’t on the up and up, because he’s basically strengthening Rayshea’se up and giving him the means to escape, and Obi-wan leaves the hatch unlocked every night when they’re done, just like he promised.

 Linebreak***

 //Reyshea’se assumes that since Obi-wan has Mandalorian tattoos that his heart must be a Mandalorian inker, which makes sense to him because the inkers are the ones that go up to the surface the most often, to get materials for their dyes, so that’s probably how they met. And another Mandalorian wouldn’t have asked an inker to come and mark a human, that would be a literal death wish.

 //So when they introduce themselves, once Rayshea’se is feeling more up to talking, Rayshea’se doesn’t tell Obi-wan his real name, because every Mandalorian knows who he is, and if Obi-wan were to tell his heart that he met another Mandalorian named Rayshea’se Obi-wan’s heart would freak out that the  royal guard was coming to kill them and then Obi-wan. So he tells Obi-wan that his name is Shea.

 //So Obi-wan has no idea that it’s Cody’s brother. There is a strong resemblance, but he’s already met all of Cody’s family. So he’s like, must be a funny coincidence. Nice to meet you,  Shea.

 //Rayshe’ase’s also figured out that Obi-wan’s inker hasn’t told Obi-wan that their relationship isn’t illegal from a Mandalorian perspective, and Obi-wan has no idea the danger his heart’s put him in. And the more time they spend together the more they get to know eachother and Obi-wan always talks about his  husband so loviningly and so wonderingly, like yes, my husband is kind and strong and talented and he’s so good to me, better than I deserve, really, and I was so alone and sad before I met him, and now I’m so happy, it’s so wonderful that we found eachother. And Rayshe’ase kind of resents this mystery husband for deceiving such a sweet person like Obi-wan, for kind of … taking advantage of him, a little, but he recognizes that in this case it would be more cruel to tell Obi-wan the truth.

  Linebreak***

 "Are you being sure you will not coming home with me?" Obi-wan asks. He's wringing his hands, a little fretfully, and Rayshe'ase is helpless against the fondness that blooms in his chest. "My riddur can be helping you, can be calling your family, the healers. No need for swimming by yourself."

 There's every need. Obi-wan's done so much, for him, and Rayshe’ase will not put him in any more danger than he already is in. And nor will he reveal the danger that Obi-wan's husband has put him in - he'd rather cut out his own heart than ruin the bond Obi-wan has in his, than reveal just what the man Obi-Wan loves and trusts so much has really done.

 "No, we're very close. I'll be fine, I promise." He darts forward and enfolds Obi-war into a hug. May your heart take good care of you for the rest of your life, he prays. "Thank you. Thank you for all you've done for me."

 “No thanking. It was being the right thing." Obi-wan squeezes back, before pulling away to earnestly meet Rayshe'ase's eyes. "Shea, may Sho'cye ever bless your path."

 "And yours," Rayshe'ase chokes, pulling Obi-wan close again and pressing their foreheads together.

 Obi-wan softens, hushing and holding him, until the worst of Rayshe'ase's trembling stops, until Rayshe'ase pulls back again, full to brimming with so many things he's not sure how to say.

 "Is okay." Obi-wan tells him. Still smiling. "Can be going. Being sure your family is so excited to see you. Not needing to keep them waiting any longer."

 Rayshe'ase nods, throat tight, and holds the memory of Obi-wan's bright smile in his head as he dives.

 Even with all Obi-wan has done for him, all their swims together with the rope, Rayshe'ase is still so weak. It takes him hours and many breaks to even reach the halfway point down to Sundari. And he doesn't know if he'll find family, excited to see him. They were at war, when he was taken. What if they lost, and Obi-wan's inker is able to take refuge in a human because he’s one of the only Mandadorians left?

 Luckily, he’s not tortured too long with what-ifs. There's a phalanx of the royal guard swimming up towards the surface. He has no idea why in the name of Sho'cye they would be doing such a thing, but he's too grateful to care. He calls a song to them, voice rusty with disuse, and they pivot, flashing shock all down their bodies.

 "Prince Rayshea’se! How-!"

 "It is a long story and one I wish to tell only once. Please, just," Rayshease's voice cracks.

"Please just bring me home. I'm... too weak, to swim fast on my own."

 They do as he asks, of course, spinning into motion with a flurry of activity. Their fastest surges off to bring the news to the capitol, and the rest gather around him; two press close to his sides, ducking under his arms, and do his swimming for him, speeding him down quickly to Sundari. They tell him that the war is over. That his family is all well, so it's with only joy and anticipation in his heart that he looks down over the city.

 There's already music, celebrating his return, moving through his bones, and it only adds to the dreamlike quality of seeing his family waiting for him on the ridge overlooking Sundari. His mother, and Rex, and Kix and Boba, and he breaks free clumsily and surges toward them with all his strength.

 They meet him halfway, enveloping him, shining with happiness and laying praise on Sho'cye for his return, and it's everything he's dreamed about for the last two years, except...

 "Where's Eyeyah? And Kote, and Wolv? The guard said that they were alright, that they lived..."

 “They do, they do," his mother soothes. "They were away, but not far, and we sent word to them. They'll be back any minute, I promise."

 "We can wait for them at the palace," Kix says, a little pointedly, throwing an arm around Rayshe’ase's shoulder, and bracing him up against his side. “In the healing halls."

 Rayshe'ase's been notorious for avoiding the healing halls ever since he was a minnow, but right now he can think of nothing better than to be ensconced safely in them, looked after by his own brother. "Okay. Just this once."

 Kix flashes in amusement and snorts for good measure. But he bears Rayshe’ase forward with utmost gentleness.

 His family catches him up on the end of the war, once he comments on the ink over Rex’s heart. Apparently, they won by allying themselves with the Togruta, and Rex is now married to the one of the Empress’ daughters. Ahsoka, he says, proudly and happily, and he’s sure Reyshe’ase will like her. He tells her the story of how they met, her sneaking away to join the delegation, them fighting together, and fondness and love are clear in his every word. Reyshe’ase can’t be anything but happy for him, and tells him so, and Rex beams.

 They tell him also, about Wolv and his capture, faces sobering, so that Rayshe’ase won’t be surprised when he sees him. He’s doing so much better than he was, Kix promises, healing well in both mind and body. But he did lose an eye, and much of his mobility, so he’s moved from the army proper to the royal guard now.

 Rayshe’ase just thanks Sho’cye that he’s alive. It seems impossible that anyone could get taken by the shark-riders and live, but then again, most would say it’s impossible to get taken by the humans and live, and yet here Reyshe’ase is now. Sho’cye must be smiling on them, for two miracles in so short a time.

 True to his mother’s word, Eyeyah, Kote, Wolv and a Togruta that must be Ahsoka are all waiting for them in Kix’s treatment room in the halls. Rayshe’ase keens as Eyeyah slams into him. They’re practically crushing eachother with the force of their greeting but Rayshe’ase hardly cares, even when Kix tsks at Eyeyah and orders him to be gentle. They stay clinging to eachother even as Kote and Wolv come forward to greet him with brushes of their temples to his, and careful embraces from behind. And it’s Eyeyah who finally asks, voice cracking with emotion, what happened to him.

 “I was taken, by humans,” Rayshe’ase says, and he can see flashes of shock and horror light up the room. “They kept me in a … clear rock cage, very small, for so long. It was … but then they got careless, and made an enclosure for me, in the ocean. So I escaped.”

 “They’re dead now,” he adds, lifting his face from Eyeyah’s shoulder to look at Kote. As Mand’alor, he needs to know that their people – all Merfolk – are safe. That they’re not in danger of discovery. As he does so, he notices for the first time that Kote’s heart circle has also been filled with ink. He blinks, but it’s still there. He supposes that it was inevitable; as Mand’alor Kote would sooner or later have to wed. But he still didn’t expect … “You found your heart, too. Congratulations, Kote.”

 “Thank you,” Rayshe’ase,” Kote says, but he looks … shifty, almost. Everyone in the room does, all of a sudden. “But there’s, um, something you need to know about him.”

 “What, is he not one of the nobles? You know I don’t care about that.”

 “Not, it’s …” Kote exchanges a glance with Wolv, and Wolv shrugs. “He’s um … well, he’s a human. But he’s nothing like the ones that took you, I swear, he’s … he’s kind and good and he would never hurt any of us.”

 A human. Kote’s heart is a human. Suddenly, a million things starts clicking into place all at once. He holds up his hand, cutting silent Kote’s almost panicked reassurances, and says, “this human, describe him to me.”

 Kote tilts his head, brow furrowed, but does. His heart is very pale, skin lovely and white like a pearl, with eyes as blue as the sky and hair that shines red like the rising sun.

 Oh, of course he is, Rayshe’ase thinks, and he can see his own colors bloom with amusement, as he shakes his head back and forth, as he clicks happily, and the whole family draws closer, alarmed, but he manages to calm them, and himself, and re-tells the story, all of it, from the beginning. Everything that happened, and all that Obi-wan did for him.

 “I’m sorry I didn’t tell all of it,” he says, once he’s done. “I just … I didn’t know the laws had changed. And I’m sorry for thinking so poorly of you, that you’d somehow, endangered him, deceived him…”

 “You were keeping him safe,” Kote says, squeezing Rayshe’ase’s arm and pulling him into a hug, as best he can with Eyeyah still in the way. “Never apologize for that. And  I did endanger him, in the beginning.”

 Mom clicks in disagreement, and Kote pulls a face back at her. It’s clearly a disagreement they’ve had many times, and they drop it quickly, turning their attention back to him.

 “It seems I have him to thank for the life of another of my sons, whom he’s brought back from the dead,” she says, passing her hand through Rayshe’ase’s hair. It’s gotten so long, the humans who had him never bothered to cut it.

 “I want to go see him,” Rayshe’ase says. Now that he knows that it’s alright, that he won’t be putting Obi-wan in any danger… “I need to let him know that I made it back safely. He was so worried, when I left. I need to let him know.”

 “Hush, Reyshe’ase, we’ll tell him,” Kote says. “We’ll send a messenger, right away.”

 “No, I want to go,” Rayshe’ase insists. It’s important, that it’s him. Obi-wan deserves no less. “He didn’t know, who I was. I want to be the one to tell him.”

 They all turn to Kix. Kix sighs. “Fine. But tomorrow. For now, you rest.”

 Linebreak***

 Even home, it’s a disappointment to find that he still doesn’t sleep well. He wakes from nightmares time and time again, jarred each time that he finds his family there instead of the humans that had him, or Obi-wan.

 “Is there anything we can do?” Mom asks, rubbing at his arm, the third time he’s jerked awake.

 “Could you … sing?” Rayshe’ase asks, feeling stupid. “Obi-wan would sing for me, when I – it … it helps me fall back a sleep. He’s got a pretty nice voice, for a human.”

 “Of course,” Mom says, smiling and relieved, before she shoots a teasing look Kote way. “You’re lucky that you got to him first, Kote, or it sounds like perhaps Rayshea’se might have beat you to it.”

 There are clicks of amusement throughout the room, and Rayshea’se never thought he’d get to have this again, just the simple pleasure, of joking with his family.

 But he doesn’t want to worry them, by being maudlin, so he shrugs, and says, “Obi-wan’s great and all, but the legs don’t really do it for me.”

 Kote flashes with lust and then very quickly thereafter with embarrassment, and the clicking gets louder, but Kote holds his chin up high and declares, “You don’t know what you’re missing. The legs are the best part.”

 Rex makes a disgusted noise, low in the back of his throat. “Ugh, stop it, Kote, that’s more than I ever needed to know.”

 “Oh, please,” Wolv scoffs. “You think that’s bad? You don’t have to hear them, they’re so loud with eachother that it carries through the water-”

 “Alright,” Kote snaps, flashing embarrassment again. “What song would you like us to sing, Rayshea’se.”

 “Nar’uur,” Rayshea’se asks, a pleading edge to his tone that he can’t control. “That’s what … he sang that one a lot. Said that you always sing it to him, so its one of his favorites.”

 “Oh,” Kote says, and he has a soft, tender, poleaxed look on his face. But no one clicks their amusement this time. “Of course, Shea, anything.”

 “Lie back down,” Eyeyah suggests softly, and settles with him down on the bed. Mom starts and everyone else picks up the song, note by note, letting it build in the water, and Rayshea’se lets himself fall down into sleep, and doesn’t wake from a dream again.

Story 2 – Wolv gets a prosthetic

 “It’s hard,” Wolv says, one night. Obi-wan’s stretched out on the dock, and Wolv is stretched out in the water beside him; they’re both looking up at the stars. All the merfolk that he’s met, that have come to visit Obi-wan, find them both fascinating and very comforting. Cody says they remind him of the way that the plankton glow, especially at night, points of light against inky blackness, familiar and anchoring despite the way that they shift. Not so different as the stars, in the end.

 Obi-wan doesn’t ask ‘what is,’ knows that it’s better to stay quiet and give Wolv the space and time that he needs to finish his thought.

 “The emptiness,” he says haltingly, and gestures to the side of his face, where the leather patch lays. “Feeling it, always. Even now that the pain is gone.”

 “I’m sorry.” Obi-wan says softly. He’s so, so sorry, for the wounds that war gouges into them all, the deep scars that they need. “I’ve known many men, who lost limbs in the war, and a lot of them say the same. Not all of them can afford prosthetics, but even the ones that can-”

 He stops, struck dumb with inspiration, at the same time that Wolv frowns, and repeats, “prosthetics,” rolling the unfamiliar English word around in his mouth.

 “They’re a … an artificial replacement, for a part of the body that’s been lost. Not just limbs, they have them for teeth too, and eyes,” Obi-wan explains, heart caught in his throat. “They make them out of glass … remember the marbles I showed you? They’re like that, I think, but bigger. We could … we could get you one, if you wanted. If you thought it might help.”

 He holds his breath a Wolv stills, completely and utterly in the water.

 “Yes,” Wolv says, after a moment, voice rough. “Yes. I think … if you can really … I think it would.”

 Linebreak***

 Obi-wan does a little research, makes some inquiries. The general consensus seems to be that while optical prosthesis can be ordered through the mail, if one can afford it the best thing to do is to send for an occulist to come in person. Affordability isn’t the real barrier here, thanks to Eyeyah’s explorations, and Cody’s insistence on giving Obi-wan all the gold in Mandalore’s vaults. More the tail and fins that Wolv sports.

 But Wolv has said he doesn’t want any the merfolk to know what they’re doing until it’s done, and has gently but firmly shut down Obi-wan’s plea to at least involve Kix. So Obi-wan does what he always does, when he’s at the beginning of hatching a plan. He goes to Kita.

 It’s really not that difficult, in the end. On the path to successfully finding a way for Obi-wan and Cody to sleep close to eachother without getting Obi-wan to wet or Cody too dry, there were many failures, and it’s one of these that they drag back in from the shed. A labor of love on Obi-wan’s part, the frame all basically one big box with a hole in both the top the box and the mattress both, so that Cody would lie with his torso on the mattress and his tail in the box. And a little opening, on the side, where the box could be filled with fresh sea water every night, and Cody could sleep in perfect comfort. And it would have worked a treat, really, if the bloody thing hadn’t leaked and leaked and leaked no matter what Obi-wan tried to plug it up. After the fifth time they’d woken up to a flooded floor and the smell of wet dog Obi-wan had conceded defeat; he’d gone back  to the drawing board, and the bed was banished to the shed.

 All the effort is more than worth it now. Wolv fits right into it and with a couple of pillows to prop him up and some creative arranging of blankets, Wolv makes a very convincing picture of a bedridden amputee. Once he’s settled, Kita and Obi-wan leave him in Boga’s care, and head into town to pick up the occulist.

 Dr. Che is a no-nonsense woman in her fifties. She has an absolutely massive trunk with her in addition to a small suitcase, and Obi-Wan wonders with a little flash of humor exactly how many eyes she’s got in there.

 Linebreak***

 //There are actually two parts to ocular prosthetics, a circular filler which goes into the socket and is then sewn over with muscle, and then the actual glass eye which sits over that and can be removed as needed. So glass eyes aren’t actually round! The more you know (star and rainbow).

 //So Dr. Che needs to come twice, first to put in the filler and then a month later, once it’s healed, fit Wolv for his prosthetic.

 Linebreak***

 Wolv does exceptionally better, almost immediately, even with just the filler in his socket.

 “It feels good,” Wolv confesses, a week after the surgery, when he and Obi-wan asks him. “The socket is still damaged, the nerves, but … it doesn’t feel hollow anymore. It feels more like I’m just closing my eye. It’s … so much better.”

 “Being most glad,” Obi-wan says, and the last of his doubts about doing this fall away.

 Cody and the rest of the family notice the change too, and though there are many grateful looks thrown Obi-wan’s way, none of them remark upon it. Probably too afraid that if they try to mention it, it will go away. But their joy and relief also works to ease – though not entirely dissipate – the fear that they’ll be angry at him or helping Wolv conceal the whole thing.

 The month passes quickly, all told, and then Dr. Che’s returning. He sees her note the changes in Wolv’s demeanor too, and the quiet pride that rises in her eyes at it. She declares that his socket has healed perfectly from the surgery, and that if Wolv is ready, she’ll got ahead and make the cast.

 Wolv is more than ready, and he doesn’t even flinch as Dr. Che presses the soft putty in.

 She hardens the cast, and then spends some time comparing it to various trays of eyes from her trunk before she’s satisfied. She holds her chosen tray out to Wolv and explains that he can pick any one of these to use, and then she’ll mail along his two others that she makes custom from his mold. Obi-wan has ordered many spares to be made, knowing full well how objects can get easily lost in the ocean.

 “This one will probably be the closet match to your color,” Dr. Che says, pointing to the dark brown one at the bottom of the tray.

 Wolv’s eye skates over the offerings before he brightens, and shakes his head. ‘I’d like the one at the top. That blue one.’

 It is indeed quite blue, almost a perfect match for Obi-wan’s own. Obi-wan swallows, and translates for Dr. Che, before adding. “Wolv, are you sure? You can pick any of the colors that you want, it doesn’t have to be …”

 ‘That’s the one I want,’ Wolv says firmly, as Kita takes up the mantle of translating. ‘I don’t want to try to make it the same as it was, because it won’t be. And this way, I’ll have the same colored eyes as all my brothers.’

 Obi-wan reaches out and squeezes Wolv’s hand, touched beyond words. Wolv’s face softens, before he smirks, and adds, ‘someone has to put a stop to you hogging the color.’

 Obi-wan lets out a full, delighted laugh, can’t help it really.

 Dr. Che nods, lifts the blue eye up from the case, and gently, gently sets it in place. She’s already warned Wolv that it will feel very odd at first, but tht in less than five minutes the feeling will fade. Wolv clenches both eyes shut, but Obi-wan can see the tension fade from his face as he does adjust. And then he opens them again.

 ‘How do I look,’ Wolv asks, and the smile – simple and happy – playing around his lips makes Obi-wan’s breath catches in his throat. It’s like he said. He doesn’t look like nothing ever happened to him. But his pleasure, his happiness … he looks like he’s come out the other side of it.

 ‘You look perfect,’ Obi-wan says, in Mando’a, and Wolv beams.

 Thanks to Wolv’s choice, it’s Obi-wan, in the end, who ends up sitting for what Dr. Che calls a color matching portrait, where she shines a light on his face and draws a very large and very detailed imaged of his iris. And then, with that, she’s done. She packs everything up in her trunk, and it’s time for them to say their goodbyes.

 She allows Wolv to touch her arm, gently, and thank her, excitement radiating out of every part of him, and Obi-wan to gratefully shake her hand. Kita leaves with her, to escort her back to town. And Obi-wan helps Wolv back into the water. He also sens one of the ever-present royal staff back to Sundari, with a request for the family to gather. Wolv passes the time waiting for them swimming around energetically, testing how his new eye fares in the water, and declaring it a success every time he surfaces.

 Obi-wan keeps (hah) an eye on him, but ducks away periodically to help the cooks put together a large spread, ever conscious of the fact that he’s hosting his in-laws and wanting everything to be nice for them. Plus, it merits a celebration, this milestone in Wolv’s recovery. By the time the evening rolls around, everything is perfect; a feast is laid out along the edges of the deck and the lanterns that Obi-wan strung up around the lagoon are lit to supplement the glow of the moon.

 Obi-wan slips into the water the second that Boyal comes to tell them that the royal family’s arrived, so that Cody can pull him down under the water for their typical enthusiastic greeting. But he encourages them to surface much sooner than he usually would. This is Wolv’s night.

 “What’s the occasion?” Cody asks, still holding Obi-wan close even though he’s pulled back from nuzzling along Obi-wan’s throat.

 “Wolv has something he’s like to share with you all.”

 “Is this whatever surprise you guys have been planning for the last month, that you thought we didn’t know about,” Eyeyah demands. “The one you had to call that human woman for?”

 “Dr. Che,” Wolv says. “And yes.”

 “A doctor? You’re not sick are you,” Kix demands, looking between Obi-wan and Kita with narrowed eyes, like he expects one of them to keel over at any moment.

 “No, they’re fine,” Wolv says, rolling his eye. Obi-wan smiles, because he knows that under the patch that Wolv’s put back on the prosthetic eyes is rolling too. “She came for me. We disguised me as a paralyzed human, so that she could do this.”

 Wolv lifts his patch and Vah’yen gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. Kix swears, and Cody lets Obi-wan go to race over to Wolv and take Wolv’s face into his hands.

 “What-” he stutters, looking between Obi-wan and Kita. “How?”

 “Is that another human’s eye?” Eyeyah demands, with sort of excited and fascinated horror. “Did you steal another human’s eye?”

 “No, of course not, it’s … glass. I’ll- look.” Wolv has filed down a few of his nails, as soon as Dr. Che left, and Obi-wan had helped him practice taking the eye in and out until he could do it comfortably on his own. He takes it out now, holding it out in his palm so they can all see. Kix plucks it out of his hand and drops it into Rex’s palm so that he can haul Wolv towards him and look into the socket.

 He makes a surprised noise, as he peers in. “Oh, it’s…”

 “It’s part of the process. There’s a little ball, that they put in to fill the socket, and then they sew it shut. She said it would help keep me from getting all those infections. And then the … prosthetic goes in the remaining space.” He accepts his prosthetic back from Cody, now that everyone’s had a chance to look, and slips it back into place. “It’s something the humans invented, for when they loose eyes, and Obi-wan and Kita helped me to do it. I … still can’t see, out of it, but it helps me to feel more normal. More … whole. I kept having nightmares where I’d wake up and the eye would be gone and it felt … but now when I wake up, there’s something there, and it’s … a lot better.”

 There’s a moment of stunned silence before Vah’yen sobs, pulling both Wolv and Obi-wan close to her. “Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

 “No is needing for thanking,” Obi-wan tries to protest, but Vah’yen makes a hushing noise and Obi-wan complies. There’s a splash of water behind him, and it’s Cody, coming to plaster himself along the back of Obi-wan’s back and brush their temples together.

 “There’s every need,” Cody murmurs, and presses a kiss to Obi-wan’s cheek.

 “Yes,” Vah’yen says. “You keep helping all my children. I am indebted to the both of you.”

 “It was Obi-wan’s idea,” Kita says, smiling. She’s stayed safe and dry on the dock, out of hugging range. “I just helped him carry that terrible bed he made in.”

   Linebreak***

 //Kita is an OC that served with Obi-wan on Melidadaan (in my personal quest to add more lesbians to SW), headcanon that in this verse she left her family in India to serve as a code breaker for the British after all her older brothers were drafted and killed, and then from there was recruited into the MI6 by Cerasi. And she ended up attached with Obi-wan’s unit in between her covert missions, so they fought together and got to be good friends. After the war ended, she went back to make sure her family in India was okay, but she and Obi-wan still wrote letters. Until Obi-wan’s letters stopped coming, and so she went to his address and found it burned down, and so she’s like, okay, and tracked  him all the way to his remote island home on Hawaii. So she just like shows up in a sailboat, and is like, oh good, you didn’t kill yourself.

 //And she stays for a little while because she’s got her own ish from the war, and because she’s a spy she’s like, hmm, what’s different about you, oh, you’re in love. And Obi-wan’s like, yes, I found someone here, we’re in a relationship but I can’t introduce you, and Kita’s like, I get it, you know I do. I’m happy for you, just be careful.

 (Kita and Cerasi were lovers, until Cerasi died in the war. ☹ So Kita totally gets the supreme shittyness of period-queerphobia)

 //And Kote’s like, once Kita’s asleep at nights, is like, who is this, oh, she’s like your sister, I see. Well, if you trust her, you should tell her. I want to meet your family.

 //And so Kita meets mermaids and is like, mmm, I’ve lost it, but once Obi-wan gets her over the existential hurtle enjoys meeting Obi-wan’s new husband and family and they’re all totally vibing.

 //And Kita keeps getting letters from home being like – when are you coming home (and marrying a man) and Kote’s like, I have a great idea! Why don’t you marry eachother!

 //And Obi-wan’s like … I am married to you?

 //And Kote’s like, yes, we exchanged our vows before Sho’cye. But humans have … fake marriages, don’t they? Where you just report it to the government? You can do that, and then both of you would be safe

 //And Kita and Obi-wan are like, what the hell, and Obi-wan’s proposal is like Kita Lastname, will you do me the honor of entering a loveless sham paper marriage with me, so that you can have a career and be a lesbian?

 //And Kita’s like yes, a thousand times yes. And so Obi-wan and Kita marry and become the best beards to eachother.

 //And if Obi-wan were to someday happen to find his long lost “sister” who just had to come live with them… and if Kita and she happened to just be really close friends … well that’s just a good wife welcoming her sister in law, of course… ie. Kita falls in love and has a wonderful marriage of the heart with idk, Siri Tachi and Obi-wan is like, we’ll just say you’re my sister! And they all live queerly ever after.

 //And many of the townspeople are a tad sus that Obi-wan is so well off and still lets his wife AND his sister work, but they’re like, well, if that’s what he wants … *50s man shrug*

 //In this verse, Dr. Che is a Chinese American doctor who got into ocular prosthetics after the war because there was a lot of need and not a lot of practitioners. She is, as always, a total bamf.

[crackheadgeminibby]

better for you

pairing: chris evans x female!black!reader

warnings: age gap, angst, language

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this lowkey sucks and is very poorly edited, i’m sorry but on the plus side, i surpassed 400 followers yesterday!! so thank you to those 400+ people🤍🤍

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape of form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person. Much less a jealous girlfriend. Not at all. Never had and you thought you never would.

You had practically raised yourself as your parents had always been more preoccupied with their jobs. You loved your parents, you really did, but when your high school counselor told you that you could graduate high school a year and a half early, you took the opportunity to start college immediately and move out of your parents’ house. This drastic change when you were so young made you become extremely independent. Which is why your relationship with Chris worked almost perfectly. You valued your independence, as he did his, and you respected his independence, as he did yours.

As a corporate lawyer that had multiple firms around the country, you traveled a lot, needing to meet with clients. Chris, as an actor, also traveled a lot.

You both trusted the other without a doubt at the beginning of the relationship despite that Chris was, at first, a little wary of being with someone as young as you. As a 24-year-old, he thought that you should be living your life, partying, sleeping with whomever you wanted without being tied down, but you had explained to him that despite your age, those were not the things that you wanted.

You and Chris were truly made for each other, knowing the other more than they knew themselves. You would even dare to call yourselves soulmates.

Which is why you could not fathom why you were in your current situation.

You had left early in the day for California, where you were overseeing the opening and start-up of your newest firm. Chris, on the other hand, had left 3 days ago to go on some trip his publicist had arranged for him. You hadn’t bothered asking what it was about, assuming that it was about ASP. Plus, you didn’t mind it: he had to do what he had to do.

But now, you couldn’t believe yourself.

You were sitting on your hotel bed, in a white and fluffy robe, fresh out of the shower. Your computer was open in front of you, the TV was blaring the news and you had your phone in your hand. It was almost 11pm but you had been doing this for at least 3 hours. All three electronics were talking about the same thing: Are Chris Evans and Lily James dating??

It was a bit your fault that people gave themselves the right to assume things like that, to be honest, since you had been the one to pressure Chris about keeping your relationship secret. You knew that people would talk and judge you for your 15-year age gap. You, personally, didn’t care and neither did Chris but his career was dependent on his public image and you didn’t want to hold him back, especially not at a pivotal moment in his life like right now.

So, you had agreed on telling your families and your very close friends and Chris had convinced you to let him tell his publicist, Megan. God, she fucking hated you. When Chris arranged for you guys to meet, she had called you “a walking, breathing PR disaster”. You had laughed it off calling her funny, but you knew that she was 100% serious. You really shouldn’t have been surprised that she would do something so fucked up at some point.

A bunch of different news outlets were pumping out new stories every 30 minutes, each article a little more detailed than the previous. It was all over the Internet and it seemed to be the only thing that people cared about today.

Considering the 8-hour difference between London and San Francisco, you hadn’t been able to talk to Chris at all since you got to your hotel. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t even tried to talk to you. Why was he avoiding you and acting like he had something to hide?

You’re reading the latest Daily Mail article on your computer about how Chris and Lily apparently got to his hotel in the same car when you hear your phone ring on the nightstand. You don’t even bother looking at the caller ID as you reach for your phone, eyes still glued to your computer and answer,

“Hello?”

You hear a loud exhale on the other end of the phone before you hear Chris’ tired voice, “Baby, hi.”

You tense up slightly before asking, trying to seem nonchalant, “What’s up?”

“Have you watched the news today?”

You bite your lip, thinking, before replying, lying through your teeth, “No, why? What’s going on?”

Chris sighs again before answering, “Nothing, it’s fine. How was your day?”

You roll your eyes. Was he seriously not going to say anything?

“Fine, but it’s really late and I have to get up early tomorrow so good night.”

You hang up the phone before Chris can answer anything. You throw the phone at the end of your bed, frustrated beyond belief.

You continue to read the Daily Mail article as you hear a message coming in. You don’t bother to get up to pick up your phone as you see the message appear on your computer screen a couple of seconds later.

chris💙, 11:01pm:

Good night baby girl. Good luck tomorrow🤍

You groan loudly at his message. Even when he had pissed you the fuck off, his words still brought butterflies to your stomach.

You disregard his message and finish reading the article. You roll your eyes as you close your computer and get up to put it on the hotel desk. As you’re walking back to bed, you take your phone from the end of the bed and put it on its charger, ready to go to bed.

You’re not sure how you manage to fall asleep that night as your mind swirls with unending thoughts.

When your alarm wakes you up at 6am the next day, you feel groggy, having slept very badly last night. Which was to be expected.

You get up and change while eating a protein bar before heading to the hotel gym: you needed to do something to get your energy up. Once you finish your workout, you head back to your room to get ready for the day.

When you get out of the shower, you open your computer and, having left the Daily Mail website open last night, you see a new article posted 2 minutes ago: Chris Evans and Lily James seen on a date in a London park.You groan loudly, closing your computer as you hear that your cell phone is receiving multiple texts.

You reach for your phone on the hotel desk and your eyes widen as you see your lock screen.

5 missed calls

12 messages

You open your Phone app seeing one call from Chris, two from your best friend, one from your brother and one from your mom.

You open the Messages app as a new message from your brother comes in.

will, 7:31am:

When did you break up with your boyfriend? And why didn’t you tell me?

you, 7:32am:

i didn’t

yet

will, 7:32am:

You know i’m gonna fucking murder him right?

You smile fondly at your brother’s concern, chuckling softly as you type your reply.

you, 7:33am:

as you should(:

You open the rest of your messages, mostly asking the same thing. You didn’t feel like talking about it anymore so, you ignore them until you get to your conversation with Chris.

chris💙, 5:22am:

Hey, I’m sure you’ve seen the articles by now.

I’m so sorry

Call me when you can, please. I really need to talk to you.

You bite your lip as you think about what to answer. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this right before your firm’s opening. Shaking your head, you lock your phone, putting it back on the desk, getting dressed.

As you get back to your hotel room, exhausted from your day, you hear your phone signal an incoming text for the millionth time today.

You sigh loudly: you knew it was Chris texting you again. You had been ignoring his texts all day because you didn’t want to get in a bad mood while you were opening the firm.

You put your purse and work bag on the floor, unlocking your phone. You open the conversation with Chris, scrolling through his messages.

chris💙, 6:15pm:

I’m leaving a bit earlier than I planned, I should be home tomorrow morning.

Are you back in Boston or are you gonna stay in LA?

You sigh, feeling guilty that you had been ignoring his texts all day. You start typing a reply, your finger hovering over the send button for a couple of seconds before clicking on it.

you, 6:17pm:

i’m still in san francisco i’m leaving tomorrow morning

As soon as your message goes through, you see the three dots pop up in the conversation.

chris💙, 6:17pm:

Oh my God, hi. Are you okay?

Can I call you?

You chew on your bottom lip: you really didn’t think he was going to answer that fast.

you, 6:18pm:

i’m about to take a shower then i’m gonna go to bed i’m really tired sorry

chris💙, 6:18pm:

Okay, I’m sorry

Good night

You groan loudly. You really didn’t know why you felt so guilty: he was the one running around with another woman. As you think about this, you realize that you didn’t really know who she was.

You shake your head at yourself as you pull up Google on your phone and look for her. You don’t even realize it but, 20 minutes later, you were now at the oldest post on her Instagram.

You curse at yourself, dropping your phone on your bed, and head to the shower.

You stay under the hot stream of the shower for at least an hour before you finally get out, toweling off.

You order some room service for dinner, settling down in front of a random show playing on the TV. After pushing your food around for half an hour, you sigh loudly, put the tray on the hotel desk and get under the covers before finally falling asleep.

You had not slept very well so you had been in a rush to leave the hotel and catch your flight to LAX in the morning. You were exhausted and hungry when you got to your shared LA home with Chris but there was no food in sight, considering that neither of you had been here in a couple of months.

As it was not too late in the day, you decide to take a nap and order some food after.

When you wake up a few hours later, the sun has already completely set and the house is pitch black. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and take your phone before heading to the living room to order some food.

As you enter the kitchen and are about to head to the living room, you hear a deep voice, “Hey, you’re up.”

Taken by surprise, you throw your phone in the direction of the sound and scream, “Holy shit!”

“Ow… What the fuck?”

You’re breathing heavily, clutching your chest as you turn on the kitchen lights, brightness illuminating the area as you see Chris holding the side of his head.

“Jesus Christ, Chris! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

Chris rubs at his head as he looks towards you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your heartbeat starts to slow down as you roll your eyes.

“What are you even doing here?”

Chris frowns and replies, “Well, you never told me where you were going to be but when I got back to Boston and you weren’t there, I assumed you were coming here.”

You groan silently, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your eyebrows,

“So, London seemed to be very fun.”

Chris shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling, before making eye contact with you, “I didn’t know that’s what the trip was about.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “Really, Chris? Since when do you go on trips, not knowing what they’re about?”

Chris exhales loudly, taking a couple of steps towards you, “I promise that I didn’t know. Megan planned everything and just sent me the info.”

You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. Chris frowns before asking, “What?”

“Megan, Chris? Really? She fucking hates me, of course she would pull a stunt like this.”

Chris frowns again, shaking his head, “What are you talking about? She doesn’t hate you.”

You laugh, this time, actually finding this funny, “Chris, she literally called me a walking disaster.”

Chris struggles to find an answer to that: he knew that Megan used this exact kind of formulation so he couldn’t deny it.

“And you know what? It’s fine. Maybe you really should be dating her instead of me.”

Chris’ face contorts in a mix of hurt and anger, “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true, Chris. She’s better for you. She’s actually your age, not a fucking child compared to you. She can give you the things you want from life that I can’t. Maybe it’s better that way.”

“What way?”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at your feet, mumbling, “If we weren’t together.”

Chris scoffs, “You literally have to be kidding me.”

Chris takes large steps, making his way towards you and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, I’ve told you before and I will tell you again. I do not give a shit about your age. And I thought you didn’t either. So, what’s the problem here?”

You bite your bottom lip nervously, “Because what if what Megan said is true? I mean… If people find out that we’re dating, the shit talking would never stop. I can’t do that to you.”

Chris sighs, enveloping you in a hug.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if we’re not together.”

He lets you go, stroking your cheek, “You’re it for me. There is no one better for me than you. And no one is going to take that away from us. Not you. Not Megan. And certainly not my fans. If they love me as much as they say they do, then they’ll respect you.”

You chuckle slightly, “Chris, I don’t know what kind of fantasy you live in, but in real life, that’s not how things go.”

“Okay, but who cares? There’s two people in this relationship, you and me. Not you, me, Megan and my fans.”

You scoff, mumbling, “Yeah, tell Megan that.”

“I will. The same goes for her. I didn’t know she actually meant those things about you and I’ll tell her that she needs to knock that shit off.”

You sigh, nodding slightly, “Okay.”

“And, baby, I’m sorry.”

You furrow your brows, trying to understand, “I never should have agreed to Megan’s little plan thing. But, most importantly, I should have told you as soon as I knew. It’s just that I kinda owed Lily a favor and she needed this. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I should have been honest with you and I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

You sigh, “I know, it’s okay. I knew this kind of thing could happen when I decided to be with you, and I overreacted a bit so I’m sorry too. I knew it wasn’t true and I should have asked you about it instead of ignoring you. I just… couldn’t let go of the fact that maybe you should be with her.”

Chris shakes his head, “I shouldn’t. And I never will be.”

Chris laughs a bit before continuing, “Sorry, but you’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.”

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. Looking back at Chris, you smile warmly before hugging him,

“I love you, Chris. Like, a lot.”

Chris chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “I love you too.”

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfictions #chris evans fanfics

[twilightdruig]

sleeping with the ceo

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader

summary: one night stand before the first day of his new job and oops that was his new boss he was sleeping with.

warnings: ceo!reader , assistant!george , muggle!au , mentions of sex , one night stand , awkwardness , fwb

words: 1.8k

a/n: unedited!! i have a love hate relationship with this and i just wanted to say @wandsandwheezes , @chokemepansy , @rcwenaclaw , and @nancybycrs are such huge inspirations to me like their writing is amazing <33

y/n didn’t know how she got here. she remembers going out with her friends, having a few drinks and partying a bit.

now, she was tangled in unfamiliar sheets with an attractive man next to her. she examined him, he was lanky, had ginger hair and freckles littered his body.

she vaguely remembers him buying her a drink. she had this fuzzy memory of his hands roaming her body. she slightly remembered his name starting with a ‘g’.

he started fussing and moving around in his sleep. he slipped his hand back to her waist so she couldn’t try to escape. he let out a groan in her ear and tightened his arms around her.

she didn’t want to wake him up so she subtly tried to nudge his chest. they were both still very naked. none of them bothered to put anything on after last night.

she raked her brain to remember what his name was. was it glen? gabriel? george? george. it sounded familiar. george. george! that was his name. he looked like a george too.

“george” she whispered slowly “george!” she whispered again a little louder. “george” she said one last time with a nudge.

he jumped a little. his eyes were now open but still droopy. he attempted to go back to sleep but awoke once again when he realized there was a beautiful girl in his arms. a beautiful naked girl. that was also when he remembered he had a job interview today.

he shot up and quickly covered himself when he realized he was undressed. she quickly turned the other way as well.

“hey there! uh… y/n right?” he exclaimed frantically, panic evident in his eyes. fred and lee somehow convinced him to come with them and celebrate fred’s job offer. the three always celebrated together. when lee finished his internship, when they graduated, when they bought their first cars, etc.

“yeah, hi!” she greeted. this was the most awkward thing she’s ever experienced. she’s a ceo! she’s fired people, yelled at people and have been in way more embarrassing moments. this is gonna be fine.

“well — uhm, it’s the first day of my job and it’s kind of really important. you can stay if you want to, my brother can take care of it” he offered.

“oh! i also have work to attend to, actually” she declined.

“oh… well then. this,” he gestured in between them, “was great. really! i wish i could spend more time but this is huge”

“no, i totally understand” she smiled.

when he left to the bathroom, she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. she walked around the spacious bedroom and picked up her scattered clothes. she just had to get picked up and change in the office. she held her shoes by the heals, got dressed up in wrinkly, used clothes and exited the room to leave for work.

she squeaked when she found george (or who she thought it was) standing shirtless, and hair dripping in the kitchen. “hi darling, i’m fred” he winked.

“yes… hi, fred. george didn’t mention a twin, only a brother” she pursed her lips feeling slightly embarrassed.

“explains the frightened and confused look”

“yeah… is it alright if i leave? tell george i had a great time last night,” she said “even if i didn’t remember most of it” she whispered to herself.

“yeah, sure!” he took a sip of his beverage “should i tell the doorman to call a taxi for you?”

“that would be really great. thank you so much”

“it’s certainly no problem” he dialed the doorman and requested a taxi.

she ran out the door, catching a glimpse of fred smirking to himself.

george walked out his room all dressed up for work and very nervous.

“missed her mate”

“oh… well i might see her again who knows” ‘oh you certainly will’ fred thought

“tell me, was she a good shag?” fred teased

“yes, actually” george laughed

“reckon she looked quite familiar?” fred asked. he knew who she was and what george was getting himself into but decided to just leave it until george figured it out by himself.

“no. you know her?”

“not really, no. familiar though”

—

she waited outside for a taxi which brought her straight to her office building.

“y/n! where the hell have you been?!” liv, your stand in assistant whisper-yelled to y/n.

“i was out with friends late last night, okay? no big deal”

“it is a big deal! there are a few workers starting her today! including your assistant because i have another job and kids to also attend to.” she handed her a white folder with the logo on the front “this is the list of all the new employees who will visit your office for first day evaluation”

“… except your assistant who will be here shortly”

“i’m gonna need to get changed.” she muttered. boy was today gonna be busy.

she boarded the elevator which took her to the highest floor; her office.

when she arrived, she ran to her personal space, past her assistant desk and into the small walk-in closet. she looked like a downright mess and it wasn’t appropriate to see new employees looking like a slob.

she tried her best looking professional and clean. she didn’t want her employees to know she was out sleeping with a stranger the night before. she did not know what she was getting herself into.

a few minutes passed, she was seated in her desk going through emails and actual mail, checking her calendar and whatnot when she heard the elevator door open.

she looked up and was met with familiar ginger hair, brown eyes and freckles. “george?” “y/n!?” they yelled at the same time.

they saw each other this morning, naked, and tangled in each other’s arms. george didn’t know why he didn’t recognize her, and y/n didn’t know how this was possible ‘who goes out the night before their first day at their job?’.

“heyy,” y/n greeted awkwardly slow “george.”

she could hear a faint and unclear “i slept with my new boss last night” from george.

“and i slept with my new assistant last night as well” she continued, testing the waters. in the amount of times y/n has hired people, this has never happened.

george gave her a tight-lipped smile. now it made sense what fred said this morning. she was of course familiar. the oh so rich ceo of the company he now works at. y/n l/n, multi-millionaire.

“listen, george. if you don’t want to work as my assistant, i can transfer you to one of my managers” she offered. she took his feelings into account, maybe he regret last night, he might be the office slut or whatever was going through his head.

“no! no, y/n. that’s ridiculous. i would love to work for you”

—

weeks turned into months and the two working together went smoothly. he answered her calls, made reservations and bought coffee. they worked like friends, equals. not like one was working for the other.

george especially appreciated the scented candle y/n got him the very next day after the awkward exchange.

y/n would even call him into her office for a quickie almost a year into him working there. it became a regular thing. either her hands down his trousers or her bent over her own desk.

today was different though. george was jittery and nervous. y/n was the least busy she’s ever been. she’d ask what her schedule was every half hour.

he slipped a little something in her calendar tonight, though. 8pm dinner at italiano’s with george. it was kind of a way of asking her out? he thought it was smart.

“georgie, what else is on my schedule today?” she called from her desk while playing with her pen.

“well, sweetheart,” they called each other nicknames and petnames when no one was around “you have a meeting with alicia by 4:30, selene is stopping by for drinks by 5:15 and you have dinner with me at 8”

she registered the meetings into her mind then along came dinner with her assistant with benefits.

“is this your way of asking me out, georgie?” she teased.

“oh, you see right through me huh”

“of course i do,” she poked his sides “literally an hour before your first day i was tangled in your sheets. i think we’ve got quite the bond”

—

after all her meetings and meet ups, it was finally the time for her to go home, or in today’s case, have dinner with george.

they went to a dainty little italian restaurant who served the best pasta she’s ever had (well that’s what she told george). it was quiet especially for a sunday night.

george was sitting across from her as they waited for the food. he started with a little small talk like the weather and the environment. he then talked about the situations at work and other people who worked with them. this felt natural to them. just two friends (or more) talking comfortably in a romantic italian restaurant.

“we had sex the first time today, a year ago” george interjected.

“you really have a way with words, weasley. but really?” y/n asked with wide, surprised eyes. george nodded. “wow! a year ago. that seems like so long”

“it does”

their food was served and they went back to office talk. they also reminisced on how awkward they were. my, my. how much they’ve grown.

“you know, y/n.” he reached to hold her hand “me and fred had this huge idea” he started.

“you know how i told you about those times in high school and college where me, fred and our best friend lee would prank people and joke around?”

“of course”

“we’re opening a shop! we have enough money for it now!” he exclaimed.

“george!” she arose from her seat and gave him a big hug “i am so extremely proud of you”. she knew he was passionate about that. she knew about his mom not supporting him and his brother snd wanting them to take a political or medical job.

george felt like he was gonna tear up. this woman us amazing. she supports him about everything he’s passionate about, she makes sure he’s comfortable and she makes him happy. y/n was all he could ever ask for.

“y/n.” george uttered in her ear, finally gaining the confidence to tell her “i have another thing to tell you.”

“yeah, go ahead georgie” she held his face with her hands.

“i — i am so completely utterly drop dead in love with you” he whispered with a small smile “and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, i just wan-“

she cut him off short by pressing her lips against his, forcefully. it took george a few milliseconds to register what was happening until her kissed her back.

she moved her hands to get tangled with the hair on the nape of his neck while his hands were on her waist. they were smiling in their kiss.

when they pulled back they pushed their heads together. “so… did that mean you love me back or..?”

she kissed him again and again on his cheeks and nose. “yes. it means i love you back. and i don’t care what anyone says.”

george paid for tonight’s dinner for a change and they went back to y/n’s enormous flat and one thing lead to another…

#harry potter #george weasley x reader #george weasley #hogwarts #george weasley imagine #george weasley x fem #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Dear Evan Hansen

You may have seen some ~online discourse~ about the film Dear Evan Hansen, an adaptation of the 2016 Broadway musical, and you might have wondered what all the hubbub is about. I mean, it’s a feel good story about a senior in high school, Evan Hansen (Ben Platt), who has some pretty severe anxiety and depression. While trying to fulfill an assignment from his therapist to write a letter to himself, his letter gets picked up by another student, Connor (Colton Ryan) - and later that day, Connor kills himself. Connor’s grieving parents and sister Zoe (Amy Adams, Danny Pino, and Kaitlyn Dever) are desperate to learn more from the boy they think was Connor’s best friend - after all, Connor’s suicide note was a letter addressed to “Dear Evan Hansen.” And, as you can imagine, Evan tells them about the unfortunate mistake and sits with them in their grief as they struggle to pick up the pieces of their lives. 

Just kidding! He lies to them, repeatedly, elaborately, expansively for months, constructing an entire false friendship with Connor that never happened, and ingratiating himself into the wealthy nuclear family he never had, in large part because he wants to get into Zoe’s pants! THIS IS THE PROTAGONIST OF THE STORY. Oh, and it’s a musical so there is a lot of singing and crying and singing WHILE crying and sometimes crying and not singing at all. But the #inspiration, you guys. 

Things I liked:

Pretty much everything but the story and Ben Platt’s performance. The supporting cast is stacked, and all of them do a great job at elevating material scraped directly out of a diaper worn by someone who just chewed their way through a copy of the DSM-5. 

A couple of the songs are damn catchy - “Waving Through a Window” and “You Will Be Found” are standouts for a reason - and here’s the thing, Platt sings them well. But as you’ll discover, there’s a lot more to a movie musical than just singing your part. 

Stephen Chbosky, the man behind every deep thought I and a lot of people in my generation had in 2006 after he wrote The Perks of Being a Wallflower, is a pretty good director. I particularly enjoyed the fanvid-type cuts in “Waving Through a Window” in conjunction with the lyrics, and his use of interstitial shots to flashbacks (and sometimes flashforwards!) is a neat little bit of shorthand that I thought was used sparingly enough to be effective. 

Amy Fucking Adams. She’s holding on so hard, so desperately to the idea of who her son could have been, rather than the reality of who he was, and she is full of such deep pain that is masked by an almost endless supply of patience with Evan and relentless positivity. All this made me want was Enchanted 2 even worse than I already did. 

Super into everything Zoe wears - the costuming department did a great job, and now all I want to do is live in mom jeans and baggy sweaters.

Did I Cry? I teared up a couple of times because I’m not a completely heartless bastard and when Amy Adams offered Evan Connor’s college money, my heart broke for the lie Evan had thrust upon her, and Julianne Moore’s song got me good, because she’s just a single mom to Evan who is doing her goddamn best. 

Things I hated more than the time I dropped a frozen gallon container of fruit cocktail on my pinkie toe in my parents’ garage and it turned black and I thought it was gonna fall off:

Ben Platt is 28 years old. He originated the role of Evan Hansen on Broadway, so in many respects it makes sense that he plays the role in the movie, except for the one kinda sorta important thing where he looks like a wizened old crone standing amongst a sea of children doing his best twitching, cringing Hunchback of Notre Dame impression. If you want someone to convincingly play 20 years their junior, hire Paul Rudd. Otherwise, please don’t ask me to believe that this supposed 18-year-old has crow’s feet. 

And that twitching nervous energy is a huge part of the black hole at the center of this film - he’s playing to the cheap seats and walking through the halls of his high school like a wet chihuahua. It’s an excruciating acting choice to watch - he doesn’t just have anxiety, he is on the verge of a nervous breakdown seemingly every second of every day. Like honestly, where is only-mentioned-never-seen Dr. Sherman, because this young man’s meds are NOT WORKING DR. SHERMAN. 

There’s such a lack of self-awareness on behalf of the writing, directing, and performance by Platt. There’s one song, “Sincerely, Me,” that offers the only glimpse of commentary about what Evan is doing, by pointing out the malicious ridiculousness of him writing a series of fake emails as proof of his and Connor’s friendship. 

Also what high schoolers email this much?? I know this was written in probably 2014 or so, but has a bitch never heard of a text? Even a DM? This whole plot is constructed around the premise that high schoolers are just constantly, constantly emailing each other. 

Everything - and I mean EV-ER-Y-THING - about Evan’s relationship with Zoe is so creepy and disturbing that with a soundtrack change, this could easily be a horror movie. He attempts to get her to like him by describing to her all the things her brother noticed about her - oh wait, I’m sorry, all the things HE noticed about her while he was skulking in the shadows following her around for years, watching every move she made, and it ends with him singing repeatedly “I LOVE YOU” because following a girl around and never having a conversation with her or knowing her at all is love, right? This was clearly written by the same people who chose “Every Breath You Take” as their wedding song because Sting is hot and they never actually listened to the damn words. 

And it gets about 10 billion times worse when Zoe goes to Evan’s house alone, takes him up to his room, and sings “I don’t need reasons to want you” and that was the moment I was that person I hate in a movie theater and I pulled out my phone to Google who wrote the music and lyrics to the musical (we were in the back row of the theater no one was behind me THIS WAS AN OUTRAGE EMERGENCY) and of motherfucking course it was written by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, 2 men who heard about meeting an actual human woman from a friend one time but otherwise are unfamiliar with the concept. 

Lastly, enormous serial killer vibes from Evan sending unlabeled flash drives anonymously through the mail with no note in an attempt to right his wrongs. That’s not catharsis, that’s how the next installment in the Saw franchise starts, with Evan in a Billy the clown doll mask showing up on the screen and asking if you want to play a fucking game. 

Also, I know it’s not possible for the narrative to justify this in a way that could be satisfying based on Evan’s actions, but what is with this thing where single working-class mom Julianne Moore is turning down rich people’s money for Evan to go to college? Like, obviously we can’t have that happen in the movie but in real life, fuck your pride! Take those rich people’s money!

I also know how movies work but nothing annoys me more than a giant group of high schoolers all getting beeps and boops to indicate text notifications all at the same time because I don’t know a single person under the age of 55 who keeps their ringer on. That shit is on vibrate AT MOST, and I feel like that’s a millennial thing. 

The emotional climax of the film is obviously Evan’s WAY TOO LATE confession, but the idea that it’s prompted by Connor’s family suddenly getting a lot of internet hate is, frankly, laughable. If Sandy Hook taught me one thing, it is that no tragedy is immune from trolls who live only to cause other people devastating emotional pain on the internet. That shit starts day 1. Apparently no one involved in this production has ever been on Twitter?

Also it feels like there should have been a dog somewhere in this movie and there was no dog, so points off for that too. 

Perhaps Dear Evan Hansen isn’t nearly as deep as it aspires to be. Perhaps it’s a morality play, a simplistic message of “Don’t lie, kids, lying is bad!” Major studio movies wrap themselves up with a nice bow at the end so everyone can feel good about themselves and leave with a happy ending, but the moronic cruelty on display here makes that feat feel impossible. We’re left with Evan in an orchard, reading Connor’s favorite books and staring into the big blue sky with all the self-actualization he’s earned now as a lil treat. And if Evan Hansen looked like an actual 18-year-old, it would be a lot easier to extend more empathy to him and his not-fully-developed prefrontal cortex, but it’s a little harder with this fully-grown, weathered man who was old enough to remember seeing Liar Liar in theaters. 

Dear Evan Hansen, 

Get some actual help and a haircut and maybe you can grow up enough to have an actual healthy interaction with any other living person, ever.

Sincerely, 

Me

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#121in2021 #dear evan hansen #dear evan hansen review #dear evan hansen 2021 #ben platt #amy adams #kaitlyn dever #julianne moore #colton ryan #danny pino #movie reviews #film reviews