#everyone thinks he fumbled but in reality it's his ex-wife who fumbled

[nightlydoesart]

Behold my old man D&D character Frankie Houston. He's a 440 year old divorced fire genasi and the Cheif of Engineering aboard a freighter sized pirate ship in the Aether Sea.

Buckle up folks, it gets long

Frankie was born in slums of the City of Brass on the Elemental Plane of Fire to an efreeti by the name of Deserai. His father, a dwarf by some name his mother couldn't care to remember, was not present nor ever would be.

Deserai made the decision to keep Frankie, resulting in conflicts with work. She managed to scrape by for most of Frankie's childhood, but retired as soon as he was able to work himself. He worked a variety of odd jobs, whatever he could physically manage as he wasn't built to survive the fiery plane due to his partially mortal heritage. His mother did her best to keep him alive, and he eventually gained a hearty resistance to the harsh conditions of the plane. He aged slowly compared to that of his dwarven lineage, but seemingly similarly enough.

From the ages of 80 to 230, Frankie worked. His mother never found it necessary for him to attend any formal education, especially since it would cut into his hours at the various jobs he worked. But eventually he convinced her to let him go to school. He learned fast considering his late start, and made good use of the resources now available to him. For a few decades he returned to full time working to afford furthering his education and supporting his mother.

Through school and continued higher education, he found his passion for arcane engineering and managed to get a long term scholarship to a prestigious university on the Prime Material plane. His mother was proud enough to not fight him on leaving, and he left as soon as he could with promises to visit.

Frankie studied at the Velichaishi University for 50 years, learning everything he possibly could pertaining to his major and future career. During these decades, he participated in several internships and gained a great deal of recommendations.

It was in his last year of school that he met Jolene Highwhirl, a djinn from a wealthy family from the plane of air who was in her last year of school as well for accounting.

Despite their differences and the animosity between their cultures, they hit it off and started dating. Frankie's mother wasn't thrilled at first, not wanting him to end up like she did when it came to relationships, but she was happy he was experiencing life. The relationship was casual as far as Frankie knew, and neither ever tried to make it more.

Jolene however was receiving a great deal of pressure from her parents to get married. She was the eldest of three sisters, and her parents complained that her two younger sisters were already married with kids in their teens while she was turning into a spinster. Nothing she could say to them would get them to leave her alone. She began telling her parents she was dating a well-to-do individual by the name of Francis. She talked up Frankie past exaggeration and into bold faced lies. Instead of them leaving her alone, this only changed to them pestering her to get married, saying it made the family look bad that she hadn't settled down yet.

Jolene eventually brought her woes to Frankie with the suggestion that they get married just for the hell of it. She explained that not only would get her parents off of her back, but they'd have a house in the Plane of Air right off the bat once they graduated. Frankie was hesitant. They'd only dated for about a year and he wasn't sure it was the best idea. He liked their relationship as it was and didn't want to rush into a big decision. Jolene assured him that they would be getting married as friends and if they wanted, they could always get divorced. Not to mention that they'd both have a great deal of job opportunities in her plane. Eventually Frankie gave in, trusting Jolene to follow through if they decided to go separate ways.

The wedding happened quickly, Jolene's parents insisting they plan and pay for all of it. It was bigger and fancier than Frankie was comfortable with, but didn't want to complain when he didn't have to pay for anything out of pocket and give a bad impression to Jolene's family. Unfortunately he never stood the chance of giving them a good one. Once her family met the real Frankie, not the Francis their daughter had been building up, Jolene's lies began to unravel and they were not happy. They were against their daughter being married to someone so far beneath them in class and argued constantly with her after the wedding. Her sisters protested as well, though more privately, complaining that there was no way she could take him to any of the family gatherings or country clubs. Jolene ignored them all, knowing them well and long enough that their words had little to no sway on her.

Frankie did not have the luxury of ignoring Jolene's family. Any time he was around them they went out of their way to make him feel unwelcomed. After several years of trying, he eventually gave up and stopped attending her family gatherings. He put his efforts into his work, always able to find good work. The more he worked, the more he came to realize just how much he genuinely loved it. He started putting in extra hours and taking personal projects home, much to the annoyance of Jolene. She would constantly be asking Frankie to spend more time with her, to get out of the garage and come to bed early or to go out.

As the years passed, Frankie began to realize that he didn't love Jolene the way she wanted him to and that he in fact loved his work much more. Once he came to this conclusion, he sat down with Jolene and explained his feelings. He told her it wasn't fair for him to stay married to her when she could find someone else who could love her the way she needed, that her family was making him miserable and he couldn't take it any longer. He asked for a divorce.

Jolene would not have it, having fallen in love with him- though she hadn't felt the need to confess her feelings. Despite having told Frankie divorce would be easy, she did everything she could to prevent it. She demanded they go to couples therapy, which Frankie shut down. She refused to sign any documents and the divorce was taken to court. Jolene dragged it out as long as she could, trying to wear Frankie down into giving up. After over a year of bitterness and seeing how exhausted and miserable the whole ordeal was making Frankie, she herself finally gave in. In a last bitter and petty act, she wished him an extra pair of arms, saying "maybe with two sets of hands, you'll finally be able to make time for someone else".

Frankie adapted quickly to the extra pair of arms, finding new and efficient ways to utilize them at work. He quickly found another job on a ship on the Starlit Sea plane and took it. Anything to get far away from Jolene.

He worked on the SQ Derian for three years as the chief engineer, developing only a few vague friendships as he was still emotionally recovering. He seemed happy only in the engine room, but tried to make an effort every once in a while to socialize with the crew.

One day he woke up and went about work as usual. A good four hours into his shift he realized he was no longer on the SQ Derian. Nothing about the engine or engine room was familiar despite feeling familiar. Confused and enraged, he confronted the captain who redirected him to he benefactor of the massive ship he found himself on only to be informed that he'd already been working there for over a month, had a signed employee contract and brought on as chief engineer, was being paid three times as much as his last job, and that they were a pirate ship. Having no memory of the last month or how he got there he decided that he must've had a good enough reason. He decided that he shouldn't think too much about it lest he drive himself crazy, though mainly because he fell head over heels for the engine and power system.

However, there was this device they had on board called a computer that he had allotted time to use. The maddening thing about it wasn't that he learned about emails and dating sites, but that Jolene had been emailing him for the past month. More so that he had been emailing her back. Reading through the past emails, he saw that they hadn't talked about anything other than their work days and free time. It bothered him, but he wasn't sure what else to do. He eventually convinced her to set his mother up with whatever she needed to email and call him.

That was all two years ago. During that time he decided to catch up on all the dating he never got around to, dating anyone his age on board or at the various ports.

Timeline

Birth to 80- raised and taken care of by mother in the City of Brass on the Elemental Plane of Fire

80 to 230- working

230 to 270- school

270 to 320- working

320 to 350- school

350 to 400- attending university at Velichaishi University on the Prime Material Plane

400 to 435- married and working on the Elemental Plane of Air

435 to 438- divorced and working in the Aether Sea on SQ Derian

438 to 440- working in the Aether Sea on the pirate ship

You made it this far!! Have a fun, slutty picture of Frankie

[crystxlclear]

sudden desire

chapter ten: the endless darkness and mystery of the ocean is becoming a bit tempting to dive into right now

part eleven of sudden desire

masterlist

word count: 3.2k

warnings: angst, hospitals, illness? it’s a little but of a sad chapter tbf sorry

author’s note: this is where it gets sad and angsty i hope y’all didn’t think it would all go smoothly from here lmaoooo sorry

but coraline and marcus are soft af so i hope you enjoy them pining for each other ... again

Marcus is sure that he’s only really known love twice in his life.

The first time, it was with his first wife. His college girlfriend. The first girl he’d ever said ‘I love you’ to, and meant it. 

They’d married straight out of college; young and, maybe, a little too dumb. Not prepared for the pressures of real life, of the real world. They were still figuring themselves out, who they were meant to be and who they were meant to become. They’d grown apart as they’d grown older. They were no longer who they were. They were different, and not the same people who’d fallen in love those years ago.

The second time, it was with Teresa. At least, he thinks he was in love with her. Hell, he’d even asked her to marry him, to move across the country to start a life with him, after so little time together, after all. They’d moved so fast, tumbled headfirst into things without a second thought. He’s sure that, in that short period of time, he’d fallen in love. The heartbreak that had struck him down when she’d left him was so palpable that, sometimes, when he lies awake at night, he still feels the remnants of it rooted within him.

There had been others, before and since. Those that didn’t work out, those that weren’t and never were meant to be. A handful of awkward dates or a couple of nights at the other’s apartment. Nothing significant like his ex-wife or Teresa.

At least, not until Coraline.

He often wonders, if things had been different, if they’d met some other time, in some other place - maybe even in some other life - without their heartbreak and their baggage, if things would have been different. Would they be together and happy, living in some picture-perfect suburbia together, in each other’s arms. He guesses that he’ll never know, now. It seems silly to dwell on such an unlikely and unattainable thought.

But he likes this, falling asleep in each other’s arms, even if it’s only as friends on her part and he’s destined to feel the sting of unrequited happiness for the rest of his days. 

The next morning seems lighter. It shouldn’t - the weight of the night before, all that had happened, should still linger; and it does, just not in the way he’d expected - but his admission, into the silence and not to her, had lifted this insurmountable weight from his chest. He hadn’t even realised he’d been carrying it. Even whispered into the gauzy blanket of silence after Coraline had fallen asleep, Marcus’ profession of love had slipped out, just the right time to relieve him of his fears and maybe any more heartbreak that might latch onto him.

He wakes with her still in his arms. She’s clutching to his shirt, the dress shirt’s cotton material bunched into her first, twisted around his torso. She looks endlessly peaceful; her breathing is steady, soft and measured and even, and her face is free of the worried lines that had tugged at her eyebrows the night before. Her lips are parted, soft puffs of air brushing past, tickling against the underside of his jaw. She’s swimming in the bliss of sleep. He’s endlessly glad that at least sleep can give her a reprieve from the torment of the night before.

He knows he should leave her bed, like he does every morning. That he should make her coffee and whatever breakfast food he can find. That he should have normality ready for her when she wakes up, so things don’t seem so different when sleep slips away from her. But he just can’t bring himself to let her go.

Marcus watches her gentle expression and the rise and fall of her chest for a moment. The subtle shift of her feet and hips. He knows she’s waking up, her body rousing from her deep sleep. He brushes a hand through her hair; it’s dried as she slept, and her usually delicate waves are even more prominent thanks to the soft cotton of her pillowcase. His thumb brushes across her cheekbone.

Coraline hums and it almost startles him. “Good morning,” she whispers. She leans forward and presses her forehead against his chest. Her hand pulls around his torso and splays her fingers across the expanse of his back, pushing his chest closer into hers. “What time is it?”

Marcus’ hand flexes against Cora’s hips. “9 am.” 

“Shit, Marcus, you have work,” she gasps and pulls back, though her movements are sluggish and laboured, tethered with sleep, still. 

He smiles and drops a kiss to her forehead. His thumb taps against her hip bone. “I’ll call in sick. They’ll understand.”

He’s sure that she wants to protest, to tell him to leave, but she just doesn’t seem to have the energy. She just drops her forehead back against his sternum and sighs. She nuzzles herself closer into him and pulls at his scent, just as intoxicating as always. It weighs her limbs down. She feels her head swimming with everything - the worry and the pain and the fear - but the familiar scent of his cologne keeps her rooted to reality, and stops her from floating away. She’s glad that he’s here, holding her. She’s not sure she would want to wake up without him there. “I need coffee,” she murmurs, voice muffled by the duvet pulled snug over the pair of them, and Marcus’ shirt. She makes to move his embrace and leave the bed, but her efforts are half-hearted and she keeps herself pressed against Marcus, inside his comforting grip.

Marcus chuckles. “Just a couple more minutes,” he insists.

He can feel her grin through the material of his shirt. “You’re comfortable like this?” She runs her hand up his torso, from his stomach to his chest, and toys with the top button of his shirt, by his neck. Her thumb brushes over his collarbone; he’s pretty sure it’s unintentional, but it almost makes him shudder. He’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t used to the effect that she has on him.

He shouldn’t be. Not in what he’s wearing. But the warmth of her against his chest is too comforting for him to muster the strength to move. “Very comfortable.” 

She tilts her head back. Large green eyes peer up at him, sparkling and still laced with sadness. She’s trying her best to hide it, he can tell. “Too bad,” she whispers, “I want coffee.” She still doesn’t move. She stays rooted to his chest.

“And you’re expecting me to make it?” Marcus chuckles.

Cora giggles against him. “No- give me a moment.”

Marcus brushes a hand through Coraline’s hair - and pushes away the curls that have flopped over her face and obscure her sleep-kissed smile against him - as her phone begins to ring on the bedside table behind her. Cora groans and tightens her grip on his shift. “Who is it?”

He peers over her to glance at the display on her phone, which lights up bright with the name ‘Daniel’. He tells her and she groans again, pressing her cheek against his chest. Every time something calls her to leave the bed, she can’t help but burrow deeper into him. “Let it ring. I’ll call him back later,” she insists. The phone falls silent against the wooden table and she relaxes, until the phone starts vibrating again, and her shoulders go rigid. 

“You gonna get that one?”

She shakes her head. “He’ll give up after this call.”

But her phone carries on ringing.

After the fifth ring of the third call, Coraline uncurls herself from around Marcus. 

“Hello,” she answers, unable to sound very enthusiastic.

“Cora, thank God!” Daniel sounds out of breath on the other end of the phone. “You need to get down to the hospital right away.”

“What?” She shoots upwards in worry. “What’s happened? Is everyone okay-”

“It’s dad. It’s his lungs again.”

Panic strikes in Coraline’s chest. It’s her fault. If she hadn’t told him about her and Marcus and their plans for a baby, he’d be okay.

“I’m-” She desperately tries to catch her breath as she stumbles from the bed. Marcus calls after her but she’s fumbling blindly through the room, grabbing clothes like it’s second nature. “I’m on my way.” She drops her phone rather than hanging up and tugs on a hoodie and joggers over her pyjamas. 

“Coraline, what’s wrong?” She questions.

She shakes her head and twirls on her heels. “My dad’s in the hospital.”

...

Marcus hadn’t even bothered to get changed. He looks presentable enough in what he was wearing - despite the wrinkles in his shirt and pants - and it seemed far more important to get Coraline to the hospital than it did to make himself look as if he hadn’t just rolled out of bed.

Which he had.

He hadn’t let her drive. Coraline had been biting back tears; they were burning the back of her eyes, blurring her vision, and she was in no shape to drive. Instead, he’d just taken her keys and driven as fast as he, legally, could towards the hospital on the other side of town. She’d sat in the passenger seat, bouncing her leg, silently praying that her father would be okay. 

He’d rushed in behind her, as she raced towards the desk and breathlessly asked for his room number. And, by the time they’d reached him, she’d practically crumbled back into Marcus’ arms at the sight of him. Her father had been laying in the sterile bed, asleep, a breathing tube down his throat to help with the rise and fall of his chest. There were so many machines around him, cutting through the room with a thousand shrill beeps and chimes, she thought that he seemed more like a robot than a human being at all.

Without Marcus holding her up, Coraline was sure that her legs would have given way, and she wouldn’t be able to hold herself up any longer. 

Her mother is there, Daniel and Kimmy, too, all gathered around his bed, looking solemn and horribly pale. Celine Meyer rushes towards her daughter as her sobs begin to bubble up ugly inside her chest. “Is he going to be okay? Please tell me he’s going to be okay.” She can’t bring herself to look at him. It only makes her chest hollow to see her father like this. The bright man she adored seemed so far away. “This is my fault,” Coraline insists, “I-” Her face is in her mother’s hands, and she’s shushing her, shaking her head and brushing away her tears as they fall, with the pad of her thumb. 

“No, no, no. My darling, Coraline, no. This is not your fault,” she tells her. 

“He was upset with me. He-” 

Her mother shakes her head again. “No, he is still sick. It was only a matter of time. But he is here now, and they are going to do their best for him, I promise.”

The room is impossibly bright and claustrophobic. She can smell the disinfectant; it seems to drip from every surface, scrubbed clean and sterile, and nauseating as she thinks of her dad having to spend hours in a bed, with his laboured, wheezing breathing and broken, empty gasps. She feels like the walls are about to close in on them all, and stifle the life out of them all. 

Coraline’s eyes waver towards her father and Marcus hears a sob rip from her throat. She gasps and rushes towards her father, dropping into an empty chair beside his bed. She takes his hand and presses her forehead to the back of his hand, her shoulders shaking as she cries, muffled by the blankets and the mattress. Marcus wants to make it better - he wants to make it all better - but there’s nothing he can do to quiet her heart wrenching cries and fix the sadness of seeing her father like this.

She doesn’t deserve this. All this pain. She deserves nothing but the entire world and all the stars in the night sky. Hell, he’d give her the moon if he could.

“Thank you for being here, Marcus.” Celine presses a hand against Marcus’ shoulder and smiles through her watery eyes. “You have no idea what this means to her.”

It doesn’t feel right to answer. He just returns her smile. Now isn’t the time to take credit for being here. He’s just doing what he has to do. What’s right. To be here for Coraline, if she needs him. 

“Dad, I’m so sorry,” he hears Coraline whisper, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. She sits up in her seat to look at her father’s sleeping face. “I’m so sorry for everything. Please don’t leave me, I- I need you.”

...

Coraline hadn’t wanted to leave. Marcus doesn’t blame her, especially when she’d spent most of the day blaming herself, and had only really settled her nerves about five minutes before visiting hours were over. She’d been worried they’d force her to leave, and, then, had been even more worried when the nurse had poked her head into their room, smiled and asked them if they wanted anything to drink as they sat by his bedside. 

Marcus knew it wasn’t a good sign, that they were letting him stay. The same had happened when his grandfather had died; he’d been so ill that they’d supposed he wouldn’t make it through the night. They’d let his mother and aunt sit by his bedside the entire night, until he passed away, holding their hands, the next morning. He hopes that this won’t be the case, here. For Coraline. For Celine and Daniel, for Kimmy and the kids. He prays.

Daniel and Kimmy had finally left in the late evening; they’d left their kids with the babysitter that morning, and they were both starting to grow tired. Celine stayed beside her husband, falling asleep early in the evening as Coraline and Marcus sat in silence, watching some old sitcom rerun on the tiny hospital TV. At some point, they’d settled into the same chair. He isn’t even sure when, or how, or even why, just that Coraline was understandably exhausted and shuffling awkward and restless in her seat, trying to get comfortable. She’d established that Marcus’ lap and the warmth of his arms around her was the best place to be. Just the way she’d woken up that morning.

She’d fallen asleep a little while later, just as an early episode of Seinfeld began to play on the television. 

Marcus had tried, resting his head back against the high back of the seat, but, no matter what he did or how hard he tried, he couldn���t seem to fall asleep. He’s tired - exhausted, even - but something keeps him away, a gentle urge to make sure that everything is okay. 

Instead, he focuses his attention on the TV screen, too tired and far too distracted to follow the story.

The silence seems earth-shattering. 

“Marcus.” He lifts his head at the call of his name. It’s quiet, even in the silence of the hospital room. The rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor is the only thing that shatters the emptiness of the sterile room. Marcus smiles at the sight of Coraline’s father awake. His breathing is still heavy; he can see the way his chest seems to rattle as he draws in his breath. “Is she good?” He questions, motioning to his daughter, who’s curled up, asleep, in Marcus’ lap, tucked against his chest. She sighs in her sleep.

Marcus lifts his chin from where it’s been resting against the top of her head. “About as good as she can be,” he answers, “She’s a fighter.”

Robert Meyer hums out a laugh of agreement. “That she is,” he agrees. He watches her as she sleeps peacefully. “You’ll take care of her, won’t you?” 

The question hangs in the air. He knows what it means, and he recognises the weight of it. Celine had spoken to the doctor earlier - one of those ‘can I talk to you in private?’ moments that she hadn’t found the strength to share with anyone, yet - and wandered back into the room with fresh tear stains on her cheeks. He knows what that means. He’d seen it in his own mother when he was younger.

“I think she can take care of herself,” he insists with a gentle and fond smile down at her. “But I’ll always be there for her if she needs me.”

Silence befalls the room again; monitors beeping, machines whirring, the soft clicking footsteps of people against the linoleum in the hallway, the gentle rustle of hospital-issue sheets. Marcus knows that the silence lingering between them is a result of the night before, and the tension that had stretched, brutal, across the apartment, between them like a taut rubber band. 

“Do you love her?”

It’s another question that settles upon the thick air.

He’s not entirely sure how he’s meant to answer. He could admit to Robert that he’s fallen head over heels in love with his daughter, but he’s not sure he can bring himself to say it out loud. At least, not to another person. But Coraline doesn’t know. Coraline will probably never know. And, as far as she’s concerned, the extent of his love is that fondness shared between best friends, who live their lives circling around one another, keeping each other just close enough.

“I think that Coraline is a truly extraordinary woman,” he tells him, instead. He thinks it holds enough weight to answer his question.  “I swear to you that I’m in this for the long-haul,” he adds, “I’m the one who suggested the whole baby thing.”

“You suggested this?”

“I did. Please don’t be mad at Cora, she only agreed to the idea.”

There’s another silence. Robert settles back against his pillows. He runs his hand over his jaw. “And this is what she wants?”

“Yes. I think so.” He looks down at her, where she’s settled against his chest. “I can tell that it bothers her, worrying about never being a mom.”

“And you promise you’ll take care of her?” He questions.

“Always, sir. Always.”

“Y’know, she’s still my little girl,.” he insists, “you have to understand that I just want what’s best for her.” 

“I know.” Marcus smiles. “I want that, too.”

He sighs and leans back again. He gives his sleeping daughter the same easy smile he’d given her when he walked into the apartment the night before. “Then you have my blessing. I don’t necessarily… agree with this but, if you’re sure, I’m happy for you.”

It’s a brilliant relief to hear him say it. Marcus exhales happily and smiles. “I’m sure she’ll be relieved to hear that. She cares about you more than anyone, you know?”

“Oh no-” Robert watches as Coraline shuffles against Marcus’ chest. Her hand splays across the front of his shirt and she pressed her cheek against him. “-I think I’ve been replaced.”

taglist: @wheresthewater @ah-callie @its--fandom--darling @alberta-sunrise @sara-alonso @madslorian @freeshavocadoooo

[hotchley]

🦄 hey do you ever think about the softly gasped "no" in the beginning scene of route 66 when hotch woke from his nap in his office. it makes me think he had a nightmare bc right after he called jessica to check on jack. and then he passed out from internal bleeding and had a nightmare about haley and foyet. and it wasn't even about his trauma, the writers made it about his guilt over his growing relationship with beth. like... i so wish therapy wasn't treated derisively in the show bc literally everyone in the team needed it. aaron and beth probs needed therapy to figure out how to get pass "my ex-wife was murdered by a serial killer and i never processed that" vs "fuck i just thought he was hot okay." jack... jack probs needs sooo much therapy i mean. he heard his mom being murdered AND multiple gunshots and crashes cuz his dad was fighting with the dude while he was in the next room. like.. geez... also like how come the team gets therapy after emily dies but after hotch's wife gets murder he doesn't get mandatory therapy??? like haley wasn't a team member but considering she was aaron's wife.. shouldn't that be something. also while we're at it.. why isn't jessica in therapy??? her sister who she is shown to be v close with got murdered by a serial killer. taking care of jack isn't gonna solve all her grief and anxiety.vwhy isn't she pressuring hotch and jack to get therapy?? like ughh these things don't make sense to me. also like, as benevolent as she is, i can't help but think there would be some resentment towards aaron and his job (bc she's human! and human emotions aren't rational!) which she could've worked out in therapy if cm ever gave therapy a real chance.

also today i bring to your attention.. aaron's stutter. like it's most likely tg fumbling his lines but there are at least two scenes with aaron stuttering (i watch with subtitles on and it's def present in the subs so i don't think im mishearing). and bc im an angst monster.. do you think aaron stuttering is one of his tells? or at least a physical manifestation of his anxiety. do you think he speaks in monotone bc it helps him control his stutter? and then it translates as him being emotionless bc he doesn't tell anyone about his speech impediment. but in reality the more monotone he gets the more his anxiety is building up and he goes and hides in his office and everyone things he's either really pissed off or just tired but he's actually having a panic attack up there. and like after it happens a couple of times someone finally gets a clue (im thinking penelope bc she has medical training) and they go check on him and they're just like "fuck" but at the same time they try to walk him thru it. and then she's like "aaron you stupid stubborn man" just bc i want her to 😌

UGH I KNOW!

Yeah I reckon he must have been having a nightmare, there’s no other logical explanation.

I kinda hated the way they did Route 66. I rewrote the entire thing for chapter three of aaron oop- I think it would have made much more sense if it showed Jack with Hotch and Hotch with the team because they existed before Haley. They literally wrote Beth in to give him a love interest but it wasn’t necessary!!

It would’ve been nice to see them all in therapy and also all of them being a little bit more human, I agree. Because never once does Jessica or Jack lash out and it just all felt too underdeveloped and forced.

I hated the way all of them would lie to their therapists to return to the team though. It just felt very irresponsible it’s like okay. maybe you don’t care, but if you’re not ready everyone else is being put at risk.

... you come up with some of the angstiest things. I’m leaning towards his stutter being linked to his anxiety or an actual speech impediment because he was never allowed therapy for it because his dad just thought it was him being stupid. Speaking slowly and without much tone helps it from coming through, but that takes so much energy and sometimes it’s just easier to speak normally, even though he’ll stutter.

I think Penelope would start putting things together. He always speaks monotonously and slowly. When he starts stuttering slightly, he gets very uncomfortable and usually stops talking and then excuses himself.

One time it happens and she feels horrible so she goes to comfort him and he’s on the floor of his office. Without much conscious thought, she drops to her knees beside him and is like: Tell me what you need. When he’s okay enough to speak, she’s like: Don’t worry about it. Take all the time you need.

And when he finishes speaking, she just answers his question like nothing has changed. And a few days later, she finds him a speech and language therapist that she thinks will fit. There’s no expectation. Just the offer.

[fanficwriterblockblog]

tangled webs

Pairings: Endgame Spiderflash, Spideypool FWBs

Summary: Sneaking around as an unmasked, still globally hated former superhero is hardly easy. Avoiding your PI ex-boyfriend and former biggest fan who’s actively searching for you is even harder. Especially when a trashy fanfic author forces you two to work together to solve the murder of a mother of four. Aged up Peter Parker, please don’t attack me.

 Peter hisses as his back hits the wall of his shitty New York apartment. He fumbles with his pants as lips recapture his in a sloppy kiss. Satisfied with the “open for business” status of his button and zipper, Peter shoves the offending material down, kicking them off as he bring his hands up to run through his partner’s hair. Or, rather, the hair he imagines on the bald scalp.

“Ungh, Wade,” he whines into the other’s mouth. He doesn’t know exactly what the mercenary to do, but it doesn’t matter. Wade reads his mind.

“It’s okay Spidey,” Wade smiles as he palms Peter through his underwear. “I’ve got it covered.”

Peter bites the older man’s lip in return. Mostly to bite down it “That’s what she said” that almost leaves his lips.

“Ow! What the hell?” Wade pulls back and narrows his eyes at the slenderer male.

“Don’t call me that. You know I hate being reminded of that.”

Wade’s smile in back in a flash. (And Peter tries not to think about that connection either.) “Oh, come on, Webs, it’s just playful banter. You know, the author trying to get two besties in the mood.”

Peter just looks at him. “What author?”

Wade shakes his head. “Never mind. What you really need to pay attention to is the next plot device. Cockblock in the form of: work cell.”

“Wade, I don’t what you’re—”

Brzzt! Brzzt!

Peter blinks. “I’ll never understand how you do that.”

Wade already had Peter’s pants up, finishing with the button. “Go, Sugar Bear, go go go. We can finish our FWB smexy times when you get back.”

Peter laughs despite himself. After all, there’s a good reason why he and Wade are friends. Sometimes.

He takes the call, and takes the stairs on his way out. Detective work is never finished for your Friendly Neighborhood (Unmasked) (Former) Spiderman.

~?~?~?~?~?~

Coming up on the scene, Peter fights the urge to vomit and almost loses. He holds his hand to his mouth, retching. The stench is unbearable.

“What the hell happened?” But even as he asks, he can see the gist of the answer. Even with her mangled appearance, the face is recognizable enough.

Selina Kyle-Wayne. 41. Former villain, now anti-hero. Current wife to Bruce Wayne, with four children between them. Not a woman you want to mess with. Or was.

“Who…what...h-how could someone kill her? Isn’t she basically untouchable?”

Natasha Romanov shrugs as she stares down at the butchered mess of what used to be Mrs. Kyle-Wayne. “That’s your job to figure out,” she states as calmly as if they’re talking about the weather. “But we need this under the radar. Fury isn’t ready for everyone to know S.H.E.I.L.D. has no leads on a killer targeting supers.”

Peter barely manages to nod, still looking at Kyle-Wayne, but not really processing much beyond Holy shit, that’s Catwoman. Catwoman, a badass who’s supposed to be untouchable. Who’s supposed to be retired from her old life and is supposed to be the happy wife of Bruce Wayne. Holyshitholysh—

“Parker.” Nat doesn’t yell his name, but her tone is sharp enough to bring him back to reality. “I need you to focus.”

“Uh, right,” Peter says, kicking himself. “Well, I’ll start with the family. See what they know and—”

Nat cuts him off by shaking her head.

“What, then?”

“You’ll have a partner for this one. Someone not attached to S.H.E.I.L.D.” It’s the pity in her eyes that worries Peter.

“Who are you talking about?”

But before Nat can answer, a new voice comes from behind Peter. “What’s so important it’s can’t wait until after lun…?”

The other male trails off as Peter whips around and their eyes meet.

“Parker?” “Flash?”

Memories of Peter’s college, post-MJ days flood his brain and Peter tries not to look like a complete idiot in the face. Kinda hard, though, when your ex is standing in front of you, with his sexy dark hair and eyes, and (is that a five-o-clock shadow, or Peter’s horny imagination?). Flash’s Beta scent hits Peter like a freight train of five years of successfully avoiding the man before him suddenly gone to shit. And Peter’s previously grey thread on his left pinky erupts into the beautiful purple color to warn him too late of his soulmate’s presence.

“This is your partner,” she says. Like Captain Obvious, really.

Peter whimpers as Flash’s scent overwhelms him. “Fuck.”

Please forgive any mistakes.

[sugawriting]

On A Whim

Word Count: 2,960

Genre: Fluff/ Smut

A/N: This as something I had half planned from over 6 months ago so bare with me because even I don’t know where this was originally suppose to go.  

(also this is totally for @seoulscript to enjoy at her discretion )

Just as the music starts up you slump deeper into your chair. It was one of your best friend’s wedding and you wanted to celebrate with her, but you couldn't help your recent break up. He was such an asshole, but along with all the anger you remembered all the good times and couldn't help but be sad. “Come on!” Layla attempted to pull you to the dance floor “No, i’m just gonna chill,” you respond disheartened as she then moves on to annoy her own reluctant date.

You were now the only one of your friends without a guy and you didn't want to ruin the happy atmosphere. So without much protest you get to sulking at your table as you wait for everyone to file in and the reception to start. Maia, the happy bride finally sits at the head table with an equally happy Taehyung beside her.

Clink! Clink! Her sister gets the attention of the whole room. “Thank you all for coming! We’re here to celebrate my little sis’ wedding!” a loud round of applause erupted. You zone out her words as you stare at the happy couple, they were just so happy. Even all your friends at the table were neatly paired up. Maia found someone just as spontaneous as her, Layla had a guy who cursed just as much as her; and you had thought you had found the water to your fire. However, he had proved to be more like oil.

It was only when you heard the scrape of a chair pull out beside you that you actually snap back to reality. Since you had to cancel your ex’s seat on such short notice, people were shuffled around. The new person that owned the seat beside you was now Jeon Jungkook. Silently you curse Maia because you knew it was her doing. Jungkook was a friend of Taehyung and you had only seen him a few times. You may have mentioned that he was cute once or twice, but you didn’t pay much attention since you were in a relationship.

“Jungkookieee-” all  the males at the table chime while the females give you a knowing look. Attempting to maintain a fake facade of ‘cool’ you give him a small smile before going back to staring at your plate. You can feel Jungkook’s burning gaze but you push thoughts of him out of your mind as the newlyweds stand to make their final address before the feast.

“Alright! Everyone take their seats and let the feast begin!” Maia ends off and so begins the meal. Waiters whizzed around with a dizzying array of dishes. Although it all looked delicious, you weren’t really in the mood for eating. Especially when you see Jungkook peering at you over his drink every few minutes. However, it was when he stopped looking at you that tinted you a slight shade of jealous. Maybe he stopped starring because he knew you were uncomfortable. Or because he found something better to look at. Or maybe he was only staring because like some of the other guest; thought a freshly single woman was something to gawk at.

Shaking the anger out of your head, you take note of your facial expression; making sure you didn’t give away your inner turmoil. Drifting in and out of the conversation and picking at your meal, all you really just wanted was lay in bed and stare at the ceiling; wallow in your self pity. But no, this was Maia’s wedding and you’d be damned if this was going to be anything but a joyous occasion.  

After everyone was sufficiently stuffed the music was once again blasted. Following Maia and Taehyung, people began to parade onto the dance floor in annoying twos. You grab a roll of bread and prepare for a long night. Your table quickly empties, leaving you to your own thoughts. 1, 2, 3; you lose count of the rolls but when you reach in and are finally met with an empty basket you sigh.

You would be lying that your heart didn't flutter when Jungkook sat next to you, but as soon as the music turned on there were girls from every directing asking him to the dance floor. Like a predator stalking it’s meal, each girl would wait in the wings, stalking Jungkook until he was free then pounce of him for a dance. It was interesting to watch, like flipping to the Discovery Channel. He twirled each one perfectly on the spot, even dipping a few. However, the more you watched him dance around the more that tinge of jealousy grew.

And then you thought about Changwook; what he must be doing right now, who that asshole must be doing right now. You could imagine how he would have been at this event. He would of grabbed hold of your hand and tugged lightly until you got the idea that he wanted to dance. Then the two of you would glide over the hardwood and he would take lead. Every twirl, dip, spin would be exactly coordinated into a beautiful show and you looked like a princess walking on air. That how he was with everything. Except in bed. There you were in charge. Knowing just how to push his buttons to work him right up to the point, but he wasn’t allowed to do anything until he fulfilled your wishes. His hands were perfectly shaped to work you with, so how could you not make use of them?

You clench your jaw, trying to push back your needy thoughts. Adjusting in your seat trying to get your muscles to relax so you wouldn’t have to pay an emergency visit to the washroom. The next thought to flood your mind was rage. When ever you had even a glimmer of yearning for him you reminded yourself what he did. If that cheater ever tried to waltz into your life again then he was in for more than a bloody nose.

“Ugh” you hear, accompanied by a puff of air come from beside you as Jungkook sits down. “I just, came for the food. Why are these girls all over me?” You give him a judging look, but are drawn out of your fit of anger. “Also for the happy couple of course.” He continues,  flashing a wide smile as he reaches into the bread basket and your scowl softens a little. “And now there’s no bread!?” He crosses his arms and slums back into the chair. Of course, you were not about to tell him you had been the one that stuffed your face with all 13 bread rolls. Instead you try and shift the topic away from the empty basket.

“So, um-how’s it going?”

“Not bad, a little hungry. How about you? I see you're uhh-ummm…” he trails off and you can see his internal struggle to retract his statement. His puzzled, panicked look was so cute you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. This settled his heart and he begins to query you about random things.

“Favourite ice cream?”

“Vanilla, Heavenly Hash, Green Tea.”

“You can’t have 3 favourite ice creams!”

“Well, I do. Deal with it,” sticking out your tongue.

“What’s you favourite colour.”

“Blue.”

“did you eat the bread.”

“I’ll never tell,” you responded with a wink.

“You wanna blow this place,” Jungkook’s eyebrow raised as the question passed his lips. You almost responded with a truthful ‘yes’ but you catch your breath in you throat. Trying to think of your next move you begin to chew on your bottom lip. Jungkook takes note of this and leans in closer.

“Or maybe you wanna blow me.”

His tone was low; almost a growl, and you could feel it rattle your chest. Your lust begins to mount again and it was like you had an outer body experience when you mutter on a whim, “convince me”. This was totally different from the control you always had. There was something about Jungkook that made you want to give in. But you would never say that out loud.

Jungkook was shocked by your words at first, fumbling with his phone that he had been absentmindedly been scrolling through. He looked up at you with wide eyes, but quickly accepts the challenge. His hand glides across the table to where yours rest and grabs it firmly. Instead of a gentle tug, he yanks your hand and you stumble into his chest from the force. Of course, his arms engulf you and you look up to see his irritating smirk. Jungkook then guides you to the dance floor and it was like a spotlight had turned on just on the two of you.

You were use to the guy leading, but this was somehow different. Like each one of his movements had a hidden meaning. And it wasn’t that long before this hidden meaning became very noticeable. His hand would slide down a bit further, holding you a little closer, until your body craved something more. So this is how he got all those other girls you thought, but you didn’t really care, because when you looked in his eyes there was fire brewing, and you wanted to be the one he unleashed it on.

Jungkook’s next move was to lead you just outside of the reception hall; where to your surprise (and disappointment) you met Taehyung. “Hey hyung, how’s married life?” Jungkook chuckles. “Married and I’m still covering for your ass,” he retorts and you cock your head to one side, puzzled. Jungkook pulls you forward so you stand slightly in front of him. “Whatever hyung, this is gonna be the last time anyways so just smile and nod.” “I hope so, because my wife is gonna fucking kill me; and then she’s gonna kill you, if this doesn't work.” You were still clueless as to their conversation, that is, until you feel Jungkook’s arm once again snake around your waist. But in an instant, you see the ground.  

He throws you over his shoulder, grabbing the dangling keys from Taehyung’s finger. “You got 15 minutes before hotel staff comes in to change the sheets,” Taehyung says with a wink; you still in shock that this boy, fucking Jeon Jungkook has thrown you over his shoulder and is taking you to a secluded hotel room. And yet you were dripping wet for him already. Maybe it was because it had been a while, or your thoughts from earlier, but once he throws you onto the bed all your inhibitions melt away. “Alright Y/N,” he looks at his watch, “15 minutes starts now, and I wanna fit in a lot of things before our time is up”. His smirk lights a fire in your belly.

You take note of the fact that both of you are fully clothed. Jungkook stands at the foot of the bed, towering over you. Crawling to him, you pad up his waist and reach for his shirt, attempting to pull it off. His hands first reach for yours, grabbing your wrists then letting them softly rest on your lap. He then takes a step back and begins to slowly unbutton his shirt. Taking off both his jacket and button up. Then reaches down to grasp the hem of his under shirt. He reveals his body slowly, allowing you to drink in each feature as it was uncovered. When the white tee hits the ground, you can’t help but gasp a little at his sculpted chest.

With lightning fast reflexes he is quickly on top of you. A huff passes his lips before they press eagerly to your and you can tell that he had been wanting this, craving this for a while. Since when, you wonder, but soon it doesn’t matter. Slowly you trail your palms up his toned chest, making not of all the muscles and contours as you make your way to tangle your fingers in his hair. Once you get there, you tug at the strands, forcing his head back and exposing his neck. Latching on to the skin just below his jaw you begin you usual teasing but this time it doesn’t go unanswered. Jungkook lets out a low snicker that resonates through your lips, then garbs your face to look you in the eyes.

His kiss takes your breath away, and most of your strength. His aura made you naturally want to submit to him, but your pride was still very much intact as you wrestled his tongue for control. Jungkook’s hands fumble around the zipper of your dress, desperately trying to blinding undo it. You untangle your hands and reach behind, repeating the motion you did this morning, but in reverse, quite easily.

With a huff signifying his slight annoyance with you, he folds down the top of your dress and quickly begins to attack the tender spot just above your right breast. you giggles turning to to gasps as the intensity of the moment returns. As he peels the fabric off your body, his mouth follows closely, even brushing over your clothed core as he fully removes you dress and flings it away. Then his mouth returns with a vengeance; Jungkook nipping at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You yelp at the sudden pain, but his strong arms keep your lower half pinned, so all that happens is your back arches, pushing your crotch closer to his face.

His tongue soothes his bites and your body relaxes. This was not something you were use to; giving up control, being submissive, this was never your style. Yet here you were being ravished by a man you barely knew, and loving every fucking second of it. When he steps away from you, you almost whimper.

“Only 7 minutes left, i think this should come off too” he smirks as he reaches down to his belt, firmly grasping the buckle; making the muscles in his arms jump deliciously. Unconsciously your tongue darts out your mouth to lick you lips. he scoffs, enjoying what this little act is doing to you; cursing that he can’t relish the moment a little longer. As you see him undressing, you too shimmy out of your underwear. The cool breeze did nothing to quell the heat building up, and seeing his shaft finally spring free didn’t help either.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as Jungkook struts towards you. His lips began to abuse the flesh of your chest once more. An impatient hand squeezed your thigh as the other pinned your arms above your head. He was grinding his length on you and if he wasn’t so damn strong, you would have been fucking him already.

But Jungkook wanted to stay in control, rile you up and milk every last second. “Someone’s anxious,” spotting the eagerness you were trying to conceal. “Well you’re one to talk, I can’t wait to see all the bruises I’ll have tomorrow.” Although you tried to deliver your words with venom, you knew your giddy face gave it all away, but who cares. You were however, aware of the time and raised your hips accordingly. Jungkook got the message and pulled back in order to line himself up.

When he plunged into you the world stopped. It was like everything fell into place and you knew you had made the right decision. After all your heartache this is what your body really needed. A release from all your pent up frustrations. Someone who allowed you to let go and just enjoy the moment. And indeed, this is what you had been craving. The satisfaction of hot skin press against you, it was a similar yet totally new feeling. This raw desire was something you hadn’t felt in a long time, and when you catch a glimpse of the time on the beside clock, you’re already planning a repeat.

Knock. Knock. Knock. “Housekeeping.”

Fuck. You both bolt upright and case the room for your clothes. Dressing as quick as possible you turn to each other; giving the other a once over before a nod of approval. You open the door first and give a curt smile to the cleaner. A moan erupts from behind you and you turn to see Jungkook doubled over with his arms gripping his stomach. “Uuuggghhhhh, I’m so sorry I had a stomach ache so Taehyung let me and my date in so I could rest. But we’ll get out of your hair now.” He stumbles forward and you reach out to support him.

Shuffling down the hall, he waits till you’re out of site before returning to his full stature. “Heheh” he chuckled and places a peck on your cheek. “Now that I’ve saved your dignity. Let’s restart.” His hand reaches down and intertwines his fingers with yours. “I’m sure Maia and hyung won’t mind if we continue our date somewhere else.” Your brow raises at the word date, but instead you take the lead and begin dragging him downstairs.

Strutting back into the hall; Jungkook still in hand, you slapped down the keys in front of Maia. To both Jungkook and Taehyung’s surprise, all Maia did was laugh.

“So you figured out my plan huh?”

“Please, this had you written all over it,” you respond.

“Well??”

“Thank you, but never again,” you scowl.

You leave a giggling Maia and a confused Taehyung at the head table. As you turn on your heels however, a wide grin spreads across your face. “Where are we going?” Jungkook questions as you continue to drag him along. “Well, we do have some unfinished business,” you say matter of factly and his eyes darken. You continue, “And this time i’m in charge.”  

[turbulenthandholding]

Additions 25 May 2017 - Drarry Multi-Chapter Edition

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All of these are Drarry multi-chapter fics.  Enjoy!  And review!

Against All Odds by momatu Drarry / Rating: E Beauxbatons is hosting the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe, and Harry has promised to enroll Teddy as his birthday present. Meanwhile, Draco is stuck in his office, putting together the first ever Quidditch Summer School for children from all over Europe during, when he should be enjoying summer holidays.

Antediluvia by @lol-zeitgeistic Drarry / Rating: E Everyone always forgets about the Merpeople. So did Harry until the day his, Lee’s, and Hermione’s Portkeys land at Reagan National Airport’s Arrivals dais. He’s just had to leave a job he loves and pack his entire life—literally—into his luggage. Then Malfoy and his subplots arrive, and suddenly, saving the world again, one Mermaid at a time, sounds like the perfect excuse to do something he’s always wanted.

Are You There, God?  It's Me, Draco by floweringjudas Drarry / Rating: M Harry and Draco are straight Aurors. Then they're gay teachers. It makes sense in context.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic Drarry / Rating: E / Warnings: Super strong language, graphic sex scenes, a few scary situations Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Breathe Me by Kedavranox Drarry / Rating: E / Warnings: Substance use and abuse, character death Since the singular incident of being a Horcrux for many years has left Harry with a sensitivity to Dark magic, Harry begins training with Jacob, a Wizard who lives in New York, using this sensitivity to his advantage to cleanse magical spaces of Dark magic.  After a year of training, Draco Malfoy shows up, wanting to learn from Jacob as well, and unexpectedly the two men grow a bond, both magical and physical. But Jacob’s sudden death leaves Harry floundering and growing increasingly dependent on drugs and sex to avoid his problems.  After his brief and tumultuous affair with Draco ends, Harry begins a life of travel, avoiding returning home permanently and continuing his drug habit. He flits from job to job, from place to place, never settling down for a moment, until, years later, Harry is called back to England by his friends to help Draco find his way out of a cursed Manor. 

The Critiquer by dysonrules Drarry / Rating: E/ Warning: NSFW art ​When Harry submits his cock photo to a renowned Cock Critiquer and gets a terrible review, he decides to take a photography class to hopefully improve his skills.

Eternally Consistent by  kitsunealyc Drarry / Rating: E Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter assumed they would never be anything but civil enemies, until Potter lands on Malfoy's doorstep, bleeding, covered in curses, and acting very strangely indeed.​

Golden Age by zeitgeistic Drarry / Rating: M The Celtic druids once made a decision that kept magic in abundance in Britannia, but they couldn’t account for the technological advances Muggles would make centuries later. Now magic is dying on the isles, and this is not a dark lord that Harry can fight. OR: Harry Potter doesn’t save the world this time, but he does get a lot of hugs.​

Harry Potter Gives a Shit by talithan

Drarry / Rating: NC-17 “Where are you headed?” “No place special,” Draco fumbled, and flushed further. But then: “I can change that,” said Harry Potter.

Last City by @lol-zeitgeistic

Drarry / Rating: E Twenty-four Twenty-three men, six cities, and one unusual sexual requirement.

The Longest Night by Kedavranox Drarry / Rating: T 48 hours since he began his detox, Harry begins to have a few special complications.  Sequel to But in Dreams.

Nightcall by @femmequixotic, noeon Drarry / Rating: E A hideously mauled corpse is found sprawled across the paving stones of Brick Lane in the East End of London. Inspector Harry Potter--widely believed to be the lead candidate for next Deputy Head Auror--is called in to investigate a possible magical crime. To make matters worse, his occasional lover and former school-nemesis, Viscount Draco Malfoy, now billing himself as a consulting criminologist, shows up at the crime scene to aid in the investigation of the suspicious death.  Neither man will go away from the case unchanged, but will their combined forces be enough to fight the tide of danger that is sweeping London in the summer of 1910? And if they plumb the depths of the case, what bones of the past will they uncover?

Paradigm by dysonrules

Drarry / Rating: M Harry Potter is an Auror and Draco Malfoy is a rentboy, but this is not a typical rentboy story.

Phantom Orchid by dysonrules Drarry / Rating: M Auror Potter goes to Seattle in search of a smuggler and discovers a very familiar person in a quite unfamiliar setting. Is Draco Malfoy really who he is pretending to be?

Potential Gravity by @lol-zeitgeistic Drarry / Rating: E Draco is not good at Cards Against Humanity, but Harry’s not good at being human, so it all works out. Except for the explosions. And Harry’s inability to live when Draco’s not around.​

A Private Reason for This by @femmequixotic Drarry / Rating: E ​When the wife of a star politician in the Scottish Ministry turns up dead just outside Hogsmeade, Draco Malfoy and his murder investigation team are called in from the Edinburgh Auror force to find her killer. What DCI Malfoy doesn't expect, however, is to have an ex from two decades past end up in his murder room, endangering not only his case, but also his heart.

The Serenity of His Rage by Lomonaaeren Drarry / Rating: E / Warnings: Minor character deaths, violence, gore, torture, angst. The underage sex is between two seventeen-year-olds. AU of HBP. Narcissa never made Snape swear an Unbreakable Vow, and in the end, Draco decides to accept Dumbledore’s offer of sanctuary. But when Narcissa dies and Dumbledore declares his intention to create a soul-bond between Harry and Draco mainly to get rid of the Horcrux in Harry, Draco becomes enraged. He’ll use the soul-bond and the sanctuary Dumbledore gave him. But not exactly in the ways that Dumbledore anticipated.

Starfall by Lomonaaeren Drarry / Rating: E When the truth about a seemingly minor Dark hex Harry has suffered leads to the dissolution of his marriage with Ginny, Harry spins into a downward spiral. His private consolation is creating a fantasy life for himself in his journal as Ethan Starfall, a normal wizard with a big family. When he receives a random owl Draco Malfoy has cast into the void as a plea for help with his son Scorpius, Harry replies—as Ethan. There’s no reason, he thinks, for an epistolary friendship with Draco to go further. But Draco might have different ideas about that.

'Twas Brillig by Queenie_Mab Rating: E Harry reads a chapter of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland to his children before bed every night and through the story, he and his middle child find an ally in each other as they, along with Alice, discover a world that just doesn't seem to make sense when taken at face value. The more aware Harry becomes - embracing his child's reality - the more motivated he is to build a wizarding world that is fully inclusive, and by processing these life lessons finds he's able to connect with another person in ways that have always eluded him.​

The Venice Job by nishizono Drarry / Rating: E Harry Potter was one of the youngest Aurors in history. He was the Boy Who Lived, and the Boy Who Lived Again. He loved Guinness and Quidditch, and hated pineapple. He wrote letters to Hagrid every Thursday, and on Sundays, he visited Hermione and Ron. Harry Potter was also not gay.​

When It Alteration Finds by momatu Drarry / Rating: E After the war, Harry left most of the Wizarding world behind and built a new life for himself in the Channel Islands. He opened a bakery and is happy with his life. Draco is a fiction author who writes under a penname, and he's currently suffering from writer's block. His agent suggests he try writing in a new environment and rents a cottage in the Channel Islands for him.​