#i just love the thought of them growing old together

[maretinelli]

A NON-SEPARATION

Dad!Lewis Hamilton X Mom!fem!reader

Summary: When things get tough in their marriage, they decide to take a break, but of course they still have feelings, especially when they have two beautiful girls.

Words: 4.9K+

Warnings: Anguish, mention of separation, cute daughters, cute (because of the girls), crying.

Author: English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes that may be in the story. I finally got the courage to write an anguish from start to finish hahaha And there will be a part 2.

MASTERLIST

The silence in that house had lasted three weeks. Three weeks since the fight. Three weeks since Lewis picked up his bags and decided it was best to take a break. Three weeks since their love was on hold, not knowing where to go.

Lewis didn't go to a hotel or a rented apartment. He went to his mother, Carmen's, house.

Even though Ferrari offered him a beautiful home in Maranello, when Hamilton joined the team he never considered leaving the UK. His priority was always his family, and he wanted his girls to grow up close to their grandmother, in the city where they had always lived.

But now the house was different. He no longer slept in that bed next to Y/n, he no longer heard his daughters' laughter every morning, nor the sound of Roscoe's paws on the floor. He saw the girls almost every day, but it wasn't the same. Nothing was.

In the house where they used to live together, Y/n was finishing washing the dishes. She and the girls had made a cake earlier, and now Marie, the oldest girl of the couple - 6 years old and Pietra, the youngest - 4 years old, were in the room, finishing packing to spend the weekend with Lewis.

The sound of children's voices and giggles echoed from upstairs, and Y/n smiled at the sound. That sound was one of the only things that still brought her some comfort during these difficult days. She looked down at the floor, where Roscoe lay, snoring softly, and smiled again.

Lewis had left the dog there because he knew how attached the girls were to him. He would still walk Roscoe when he came to pick up his daughters, which created a funny situation. The shared custody was not just for the girls. It was for three children: Marie, Pietra and Roscoe.

As she dried her hands on the dish towel, Y/n found herself thinking about everything that had happened in the past few weeks. But before she could get lost in her own thoughts, the doorbell rang.

She frowned and looked at the clock on the wall. Lewis wouldn't be picking up the girls for another 40 minutes, and her best friend wouldn't be home until the evening.

Passing by the stairs, she could still hear the children's voices upstairs. She smiled and felt her heart warm, Y/n knew how her girls were so attached to each other.

But Y/n's chest tightened. Before, there were three bouquets. One for Marie, one for Pietra, and one for her. Now, there were only two left.

And then she opened the door, and there he was. Lewis. He was standing there, looking as handsome as ever, holding two small bouquets and a box of chocolates. For the girls, of course.

The thought of knowing that he no longer loved her and wanted a divorce crossed her mind. She blinked a few times, feeling the tears welling up, but she smiled and made room for him to enter.

"Hi, come in..."

Lewis kept his gaze on her for a few seconds before crossing the door. The familiar air of the house hit him hard. Nothing had changed. But at the same time, everything was different.

"The girls are still packing," Y/n said, closing the door. "I didn't think you'd come so soon."

"I was nearby," he replied, walking beside her. "And I wanted to spend more time with them before the evening flight."

Lewis followed his wife into the kitchen, where she had been before. Without saying another word, he smiled when he saw Roscoe lying in front of the refrigerator, sleeping without a care in the world.

"Hey, buddy!" The pilot crouches down in front of the dog and strokes his ears, causing Roscoe to lift his head and wag his tail.

Lewis's cheerful tone made Y/n smile. She walked back to the sink, picking up the dish towel and rolling it between her fingers.

"I know you're taking the girls to the GP," she said lightly, but hesitated before continuing. "For the first time... without me..." The last words came out softly, as if they hurt too much to say out loud. And they hurt Lewis too. "But please don't leave them with just anyone in the garage."

He stood up and smiled, trying to hide his feelings. "My mother is coming along to help me. It's going to be okay." Lewis left the small bouquets and the box of chocolates on the counter.

As he passed Y/n to sit on one of the high stools in the kitchen, he lightly touched her arm. It was a simple touch. Familiar.

Y/n felt a lump in her throat. Her heart tightened. It was still the same Lewis. The same man she had shared her life with for over eight years. Eight years of marriage and four more years of dating. She didn't remember what life was like without him anymore, and that hurt, because that was exactly what had been happening these past few weeks.

"How's work?"

Lewis noticed that tears had come to the woman's eyes, and to ease the tension, he changed the subject.

"Well...we hired a few more people for the clinic, to ease the workload of those who were already there." She replied, biting her lips a little, trying to emphasize the sentence.

Because that's exactly what made them both take a break. Work. Work and work. Lewis was in Maranello almost all the time and Y/n was in the office. And she knew. that he had to do something if he wanted Lewis back.

"Good...very good" Lewis smiles a little.

Silence fell between them. Lewis leaned over and picked Roscoe up, petting the dog, while Y/n rested her hands on the counter.

Then she took a deep breath before saying, "If... if you happen to bring anyone else to the race... you know, like, any women... don't let the girls see. They're still pretty shaken up about not having you here and it would be too much for them..."

Lewis’s chest tightened. The idea that Y/n thought he was already moving on broke his heart. He blinked a few times, but couldn’t stop the silent tears that fell.

"Hey!" He cleared his throat and looked at his wife. "Don't think I don't love you anymore, Y/n. That... that hurt me. Hearing you say I'm with someone else when all I want... all I love... is still you." Y/n swallowed hard, starting to cry and staring at her painted nails. "I know we fought badly. And we're taking a break. But I don't want a divorce. I want you. Just you. And our girls."

She nodded slowly, biting her lower lip. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have said that... I'm sorry." She whispered, trying to control her tears.

Lewis watched as she dried her eyes. Wanting to get closer to her, to shower her with kisses, hugs and sweet words that told her everything would be okay and that they would return to their normal, loving routine.

Before they could say anything else, Y'n stepped away from the kitchen sink and walked towards the stairs. Trying to push all the bad thoughts out of her head before speaking to her daughters. "Girls! Let's go!"

"Coming soon, Mommy!" Marie shouted from above.

"Daddy is here waiting for you!"

"P is daddy's little girl, have you noticed?" Y/n commented, smiling.

An excited scream came from Pietra upstairs, and Y/n returned to the kitchen smiling and Lewis laughed out loud at his youngest daughter's action.

"I noticed," he replied, laughing too. Looking at his wife and taking the opportunity to admire the woman he loved.

The girls' hurried footsteps approached the stairs upstairs. And before they appeared, Y/n leaned slightly on the counter in front of Lewis and whispered, "Hey, just don't comment on Marie's hair..."

Lewis raised his eyebrows, smiling curiously. "Why?"

Y/n just smiled. "Wait. You'll see..."

Seconds later, Marie and Pietra entered the kitchen excitedly, wearing matching outfits. They both wore long summer dresses that Carmen gave them on their last vacation. Marie's was lilac; Pietra's, yellow.

And then Lewis noticed something different. Marie's bangs were crooked. Someone had cut them.

She herself had done this trick last night, saying that she had too much hair on her face. And before her mother could argue, the scissors had passed through her brown locks.

Lewis looked at his wife, who was holding back a laugh. She knew exactly what he was thinking. Their daughter’s hair looked very strange.

The pilot took a deep breath, trying to control his laughter and ignore his daughter's funny hair.

The two girls were almost identical to their father, but had details of their mother. The biggest difference was that Marie had inherited Y/n's straight hair, while Pietra had curls identical to Lewis's. And now, Marie had a...questionable fringe cut.

Lewis got up from the bench and bent down, opening his arms to his daughters, who ran to him with joy.

"My princesses!" He said, pulling them into a tight hug.

Y/n felt a tightness in her chest when she saw the scene and heard him say in a choked voice: "I missed you so much." Lewis's voice was muffled because he was hugging the two girls.

Marie smiled, snuggling into her father's embrace, while Pietra squeezed her eyes shut, holding his arms. "I wish daddy would come home..." The youngest said softly.

Y/n turned around quickly, biting her lower lip to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. She reached out to grab the dishes from the cupboard, trying to concentrate on the task and ignore the pain it caused her.

Lewis closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before hugging them even tighter. "I know, my love... It's going to be okay."

Then he heard Lewis say in a lighter tone, "I brought you something."

The girls moved away a little, curious. Lewis stood up and took the two small bouquets from the counter and handed them to his daughters.

Marie's eyes widened as she took the flowers and smiled, smelling them fondly. "Thank you, Daddy! They're beautiful and smell great!"

She hugged her father's neck, and Lewis smiled, kissing the top of her head, looking closely at her crooked bangs.

Pietra held the bouquet, studying the flowers before commenting with a thoughtful expression. "I wish they were yellow to match my dress... But they're beautiful anyway."

Y/n chuckled softly at her daughter's comment, while Lewis laughed out loud. "Okay, boss. I'll be making a note in my diary to buy it next time," he joked.

Y/n placed the plates on the counter and picked up the cake she had made with the girls, placing it next to the cutlery. When her eyes fell on the box of chocolates Lewis had brought, she frowned, but didn't say anything. Thinking that she had forgotten to give them to the girls.

Marie, still clutching the bouquet, pointed discreetly to the box on the counter. "What's this, Daddy?"

Lewis looked in his daughter's direction, then turned to Y/n and smiled before picking up the box from the counter and walking around to face his wife.

"Chocolates for Mom. Her favorites."

Y/n's eyes widened, taking the box hesitantly. Her fingers trembled slightly, and Lewis saw that her face was still streaked with the tears she had tried to hide.

She smiled, even shyly, and murmured a thank you. Then, without thinking much, she ran her hand over his biceps, an unconscious gesture, but one that made Lewis feel something inside him straighten out. As if, finally, things were getting back on track.

The girls laughed, and Lewis smiled. "You always need something sweet after dinner, don't you?"

She placed the box on the counter, sighing. "I'll leave it here and eat it after dinner."

Y/n rolled her eyes with a shy smile and looked at the cake. "Oh, you know!" She shrugged and Lewis chuckled softly. "I'm going upstairs to get the girls' bags. The cake has cooled down, you can eat it."

The girls let out an excited scream and run to the table to sit down. Y/n smiles as she watches the two little girls run past her.

Lewis smiles before his wife leaves the room and begins helping the girls serve themselves.

Y/n walked up the stairs slowly, feeling the weight of everything that had happened in the last few minutes. When she entered the girls' room, the environment carried their innocence and sweetness - beds made with themed blankets, stuffed animals scattered around and small details that told the story of the childhood that she and Lewis were building for their daughters.

She picked up the two suitcases on wheels, which had been packed since the night before, and took a deep breath before leaving the room. As she walked down the hallway, her eyes fell on the photographs hanging on the wall—memories of a time that seemed so long ago, but that still lived on in every detail of that house.

There was a photo of her and Lewis, still young, with wide smiles and eyes shining with happiness, at one of the first GPs they had attended together. In another, they were hugging in the living room of that same house, with moving boxes in the background, their faces full of anticipation for the new phase of their lives. And then, a photo of Marie, newborn, in Lewis's arms, who was smiling as if she had just discovered the meaning of the universe.

There were so many others, but Y/n couldn't look and remember that it was all distant now.

Y/n felt her chest tighten and tears welled up without her being able to stop them. But she kept walking anyway. When she reached the top of the stairs, she saw Lewis approaching and climbing a few steps to help her. He picked up the bags easily, without any effort, and placed them on the floor. But before Y/n could get down, he noticed her face wet with tears.

Downstairs, the daughters' voices still echoed in the kitchen, excited about the cake. However, at that moment, there was only Lewis there, standing in front of her, his brown eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her feel stripped of all the barriers she tried to maintain.

She wrapped her arms around Lewis’s neck, clinging to him as if her body had acted on its own. The sobs came loud, deep, full of everything she had held in for the past few weeks. The sobs were intense, painful, the sound tearing at Lewis’s heart.

For a second, no one said anything. And then, without warning, Y/n threw herself into his arms.

He held her tightly, running his hands down her back, feeling her shoulders tremble. The smell of her perfume mixed with her tears made him close his eyes and swallow the lump in his throat.

Lewis pressed his face into Y/n's hair and, even without meaning to, let a few tears escape. He hated seeing her like this. I hated being away from them.

He carefully walked down the last few steps with Y/n crying in his arms and took her to the living room. Time seemed to stand still until a childish voice snapped them out of their trance.

"Can I have another piece?" Marie appeared in the doorway of the room with a smile on her face, but lost it when she saw the scene. Her eyes widened. "Is Mommy okay?"

Y/n quickly pulled away from her husband's arms, wiping away her tears in a hurry while Lewis was still caressing her back, trying to comfort her.

“Mommy… Mommy’s fine.” She forced a smile, walking over to her daughter and bending down to her level. “Just work stuff.”

Marie tilted her head and frowned, but soon hugged her mother. Y/n closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her daughter's hair, feeling her heart melt at the gesture.

Lewis watched this and for a moment, everything inside him screamed that this was the family he should never have left.

"WOW, WHERE IS EVERYONE?!" Pietra shouted from the kitchen, impatient.

Laughter escaped Y/n and Lewis’s lips at the same time. Even Marie rolled her eyes. “I have to get P to stop screaming,” Marie muttered, crossing her arms. “If not, she’ll spend the whole weekend screaming in the paddock and scaring the fans.”

Lewis laughed and ran his hand through his daughter's hair. "We'll figure it out, don't worry."

He went to the kitchen in search of the youngest, leaving his wife and Marie alone. Y/n observed her oldest daughter, who now looked at her in a different way.

"You wanted more cake, right?"

Marie hesitated, then shook her head. “Not now, I just…” Her dark eyes, like her father’s, searched her mother’s face, as if searching for something. “Were you crying because of Dad?”

"You. Crying because of Daddy," Marie said matter-of-factly. "I know he left because you two fought a while ago. And I also hear you crying softly in your room at dawn. It's because of him, isn't it?"

Y/n stopped messing with the girl's unruly bangs and frowned. "What, daughter?"

Y/n's chest tightened. The air felt heavier. She felt vulnerable, as if she had been caught off guard, not knowing how to respond.

"Yeah..." She swallowed and smiled softly, placing her hands on her daughter's little face. "But don't worry, sweetie, it's going to be okay, okay? I want you to have fun with Grandma and Daddy at the race." She stood up.

Marie nodded, but before letting go of her mother, she hugged her legs, squeezing tightly. "Okay... But I want you to stay right here too."

Y/n closed her eyes and sighed, caressing her daughter's back. Marie had always been like this: sweet, calm, understanding. She had a natural patience and a keen sensitivity, always picking up on emotions that not even Y/n could hide. She was the type who noticed when someone was sad and would stay by that person's side in silence, offering comfort with just her presence.

Y/n smiled and ran her fingers through her hair. "I'll be fine. Auntie Anne is coming to spend the days with Mommy."

Marie's face lit up when she heard her mother's best friend's name. "Aunt Anne is nice. Tell her I said hi."

"I will say yes," Y/n assured, laughing.

It was at that moment that Lewis returned to the room with Pietra on his lap. They both had the same mischievous smile, they were identical. Pietra had some cake frosting on her face, making Y/n laugh and move closer.

"Oh my God, P, you're all dirty!" She began to wipe her daughter's cheek.

Pietra laughed and shook in her father's lap. "I'm a walking cake!" They laughed.

Pietra was the complete opposite of Marie. She was a burst of energy in the form of a child. Always on the move, talkative and full of crazy ideas. Her laugh was loud and contagious, and her ability to make jokes in any situation made everyone around her laugh—even Marie, who pretended to be annoyed, but deep down she adored her little sister.

"That would explain a lot..." Y/n joked, wiping away the last traces of frosting.

The Ferrari driver glanced at the watch on his wrist and sighed softly, knowing it was time to go. "Alright, girls, let's go," he announced, looking at Marie, who nodded quickly before turning to grab her suitcase.

Lewis watched the scene, his heart heavy. This was his family. His world. And in that moment, all he wanted to do was fight to never be away from them again.

In his lap, Pietra began to shake, restless as ever. "I need to get something from my room!" She suddenly announced, before slipping out of her father's arms and running towards the stairs.

"Pietra, be careful on the stairs!" Lewis and Y/n said at the same time, in perfect sync.

The two looked at each other, surprised to have spoken together, and an involuntary smile appeared on both their lips. It was one of those spontaneous moments, where the connection between them still felt so natural after all.

Roscoe appeared in the room at that moment, yawning and walking slowly towards Lewis, his sleepy expression revealing that he had just woken up from one of his long naps. Lewis bent down to scratch the dog's head, a small smile on his face.

"Will you miss them, champ? I'll bring the girls back, I promise."

Y/n, already more relieved after the tension of the previous moment, crossed her arms and tilted her head, looking at Roscoe.

"I think he'll enjoy this little vacation... He'll be able to sleep without being woken up by someone yelling in his ear."

Lewis laughed at the comment, knowing it was true. Pietra especially loved to involve Roscoe in her games, and the dog patiently endured everything from strange hairstyles to impromptu parades around the yard.

However, minutes passed and Pietra still hadn’t returned. Lewis frowned and stood up. “I’ll help Marie carry the suitcase to the car.”

Marie smiled in thanks, and Y/n handed her another backpack that was on the couch.

The two followed Lewis to the door, Yin walking beside her eldest daughter and placing a gentle hand on her back. Marie walked a little further out of the house to hand the backpack to her father, who took it with a fond smile.

"Thank you, my sunshine," he said, before leaning down and kissing the top of his daughter's head.

Y/n blinked a few times, holding back a laugh at the sight. Pietra was holding a princess dress up, making sure it didn't drag on the ground, and on her feet were a pair of shiny children's heels, which made a funny noise on the sidewalk with each step.

Marie smiled shyly and walked back to her mother. But then, before she could say anything, Pietra finally appeared.

Marie looked at her sister with an expression of pure confusion before shooting a look at her mother, as if asking for some explanation.

Meanwhile, Lewis, distracted by packing his bags in the trunk, still hadn't noticed. He stood up and looked around.

"And where is Pi..." He stopped mid-sentence as he saw her approaching in her sparkling dress and shoes, her face pure with determination.

Y/n crossed her arms and laughed softly, tilting her head, while Marie continued to be confused. Lewis gave an amused smile.

Pietra handed him the dress and declared, with all seriousness in the world: "I thought it would be interesting to wear this dress. I'll be a hit in the paddock."

The silence lasted for half a second before Y/n couldn't hold back her laughter any longer. She laughed out loud, throwing her head back, the sound echoing through the entrance of the house.

Lewis, Marie and Pietra turned to her, surprised by her unexpected reaction.

Lewis couldn't remember the last time he had heard Y/n laugh like that. A genuine laugh, the kind that comes out without control, without holding back. It was a sound he missed-and realizing it hurt more than he cared to admit.

Y/n tried to catch her breath, waving her hands.

"Okay, okay... Sorry, P."

Pietra just shrugged, unaffected, and walked over to her mother and sister, while Lewis still smiled, shaking his head.

"Well, if anyone in the paddock complains, we already know that Pietra has a fashion plan B," Lewis joked as he closed the trunk.

He opened the car doors for the girls, who ran to Y/n before getting in. Marie and Pietra hugged their mother at the same time, their little arms squeezing her affectionately.

"Behave with grandma, okay? And have a lot of fun with daddy at the race" Y/n asked, kissing each of their foreheads.

Y/n knew they would be fine. Marie was the sweetest and most responsible child, and Pietra, as ecstatic as she was, had a huge heart and an easy way of making anyone smile. They were the easiest and most wonderful children to take care of.

"Yes, Mommy," they both replied in unison.

She gave each of them a tight hug before letting them run to their father's car. Marie got in first and settled into the seat, while Pietra, still holding her princess dress, climbed into the car seat with excitement.

Y/n stood at the door, watching Lewis fasten their belts and chatting animatedly. He was joking with Pietra, laughing at something she said, while Marie was already settling herself comfortably, calm as always.

He was an incredible father, present, who did everything for them. And Y/n knew that no matter how complicated their relationship was at the moment, their daughters were the most beautiful and strongest part they shared.

Lewis carefully closed the backseat doors and then turned to Y/n. She was standing there, hands in her jeans pocket, watching him with an unreadable expression.

She watched as he began to approach and, unable to help it, she frowned a little. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest, as it did every time he smiled at her in that sweet way, since the beginning of their relationship.

The pilot stopped right in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders. His gaze fell on her face, taking in every detail, noticing the dried tear marks on her skin. But now she was smiling. Even if it was a questioning smile, even if there was a heaviness in the air, it was a smile.

Lewis took a deep breath before saying softly, "I'll take good care of our girls."

Y/n nodded, still feeling the warmth of his hands on her shoulders. "I know. You're an amazing father... and an amazing husband too."

She said the last part quietly, but Lewis heard it. His chest tightened as he realized there was still a thread of hope between them. A way back.

Lewis stared at her for a few more seconds, trying to absorb the moment, to commit it to memory. Then, in a more serious tone, he asked, "Can we talk after I get back from the race?"

Y/n's heart raced. The weight of the conversation that awaited them was unavoidable, but the way Lewis was handling everything made her feel less scared. She nodded.

"Of course, we need to."

Pietra had rolled down the window and was looking at them excitedly, making Lewis and Y/n laugh awkwardly. Inside the car, Marie rolled her eyes and scolded her sister.

Before he could say anything else, a little scream came from the car: "Daddy, kiss Mommy! Kiss Mommy!"

Lewis turned to Y/n with a playful look. "A kiss?"

She laughed. "On the cheek..."

He smiled, knowing that this small gesture was already a step forward. Then, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. Y/n closed her eyes for a brief moment, feeling a shiver run down her spine. When she opened her eyes again, she realized that she was smiling involuntarily.

"Yay!" Pietra shouted from the car, clapping her hands.

Marie sighed and asked her sister to close the window, as her parents were 'having an important moment.

The couple laughed and Lewis looked at his daughters, shaking his head. "They're so different from each other... so unique."

"Don't even tell me. But that's what makes them so special," Y/n replied, crossing her arms.

He smiled and started walking away, heading to the car. "See you in a few days then?"

"Yes," Y/n nodded, a small smile still on her lips.

Lewis got into the car and started the engine. Before leaving, Marie and Pietra waved excitedly through the window. Y/n returned the gesture, watching the car drive away down the street until it disappeared through the gate of the condominium.

She stood there for a few seconds, absorbing the feeling that was taking over her chest. Of course, they needed to talk. There were things that needed to be said, scars that needed to be healed.

But as she remembered his words: 'But I don't want a divorce. I want you. Only you. And our girls.' A sense of relief washed over her.

That thought made her take a deep breath. The weight she was carrying felt a little lighter now, even though the tears threatened to come back.

Sighing, Y/n went back inside the house and closed the door. Roscoe came towards her, still sleepy, and she smiled, running her hand over his head. "You'll have a few days of peace, friend. Without the girls running after you."

Y/n went to the kitchen and grabbed her phone, unlocking the screen. The lock screen was still a picture of her and Lewis. With him kissing her cheek on the beach, while her arms were around her husband's neck.

The dog just wagged his tail, heading to his bed.

And then there was a new message from her best friend. 'Catching the last connection, I'll be there in two hours. Get the wine and gossip ready!'

Y/n laughs as she reads the message and responds with something quick and sweet.

That weekend would bring some emotions, but she felt that in the end, things would be okay again.

[skiagraphe0]

I know exactly where it comes from: the idea all adults are evil predators who can only be in fandom spaces because they want to prey on kids. For years, people have been freaking out about adults being in the same Discord as a minor (gasp!) even though the server's topic is Animal Crossing, or been freaked out teenagers are on Reddit where adults are even though the only subreddits they have in common is r/watercolor. "Be afraid!" people scream, eyes wide in fear, "I heard a grown-up might be there and they'll unalive you or grap3 you!"

It used to be - and definitely was when I was growing up - that an adult speaking to a minor was not considered a massive risk. Adults were not seen as suspicious in hobby spaces, because it was understood that adulthood didn't mean giving up everything you'd ever liked. As the moral panic got worse, however, a sinister motive was assigned to pretty much everything. You're an adult, but you read books? Uh, books are sold at stores, and minors go to stores! You're an adult, but you play video games? Uh, minors also play games! You write fic and post it to the internet? Uh, don't you know minors are online? You're so scary!

There's also this idea a lot of Gen Z kids have that adulthood = the death of joy. When I got my master's degree, I was in classes with 18-24 year olds who were absolutely stunned that I still watch anime, play video games, read books, sew, draw, write fanfic, listen to pop music, etc. It was very odd, explaining to them that I just never thought of not doing things I like. I could tell this explanation was both confusing to them and made perfect sense. They had been told you become a husk at 30 and simply work, poop, sleep, and then one day die. They could also piece together that it wasn't logical for me to stop listening to music and drawing because I'd hit an age.

"But you're not weird about it, right?" was a question I got, often said with genuine anxiety. I would furrow my brow, confused, and ask, "I'm not sure what a 'weird' way to listen to music is? Or how to be weird about playing a game? I guess I don't, like, make room for Jesus when I make my Animal Crossing island or anything."

My dad is 84 and reads Star Trek fanfic/keeps up with the new shows.

My neighbor is 54 and loves Disney and is helping sew cosplays for her granddaughter/teaching her granddaughter how to sew.

The manager at my local Joann Fabrics is 60 and she just did her first cosplay.

Animator/artist/illustrator Tyrus Wong was still drawing and working on concept art for an idea to pitch when he died at 105.

The notion that adulthood means being miserable and sobbing in corner somewhere (if male) or tending to children (if female) and nothing else until you die is extremely recent. It's not supported by basically anything other than their own anxiety about anyone older than then being nearby. But the thing they don't seem to grasp is that their fear about someone posting someone or reading something isn't what anyone else is going to base their lives on.

If it scares you that someone has a hobby past the age you think that should be allowed, I'm sorry for you. That genuinely sounds like a lot of anxiety. Your life sounds really hard and really miserable.

But you're not my patient and I'm not a therapist. I can't help you. I can pray you get better, but that's it.

I'm not going anywhere. Neither are most people - if anything, fandom going more mainstream means we're going to see an increasingly higher number of adults getting into it, at the same time as kids into it age into being an adult.

If adults scare you, fandom isn't the hobby for you.

Fandom Problem #7211:

As someone who's almost 30, I legitimately do not understand why people on this site treat you like you're totally geriatric and incapable of having hobbies or interests. It's always "lol this person is THIRTY, they must have no life!!". I find age is weaponized most of all with censorship advocates who go, "imagine being 30 and still shipping characters on TUMBLR 💀".

[gracie-eilish]

the prettiest girl in the whole wide world🥹

this was requested, thank you for the request babydoll☺️

an: this is for all the besties who are letting billies hair grow on them! while i can’t not drool over billie for long, i did in fact cut my own hair recently so that when i blow dried it, it resembled hers specifically🫣 (like i pulled up the oscar’s photo at my appt. and everything😭😂) so i too will mourn the long hair, but likeeeeeee 🤭🤭🤭 billie’s too pwetty for me to mourn for too long!

alsooooo, i’ve been yappppppping about it all weekend on here but in all seriousness, i feel like she’s just really stepping into herself and getting more comfy with that, and if her hair is helping with that, then im the happiest girl in the world for her:) as a fellow 22/23 year old figuring herself out, i feel for her🥹

warnings: reader being a bittttt dramatic, sad billie for like two seconds, allusion to smut🫣, this story is not meant to be hating on her hair‼️ it’s just meant to be silly so pls don’t take it too seriously! not a warning but claudia’s in here! i don’t see enough of her in fics, so future mrs. finneas is here today!

It had been a long night of fun and incredible performances and you and Claudia were buzzing with anticipation waiting for your lovers to come out. Being the true rockstar girlfriends you were, the two of you had been sitting together towards the back in a little VIP section with the other performers families and friends.

“They’re gonna be playing on the same stage as him,” I stated in shock as Sting continued to perform. Claudia laughed at my starstruckness in agreement. Claudia being the vet rockstar girlfriend she is was used to the frequent celebs and living legends, while you on the other hand were still a little starry eyed.

Regardless, the two of you had been having a fun evening. But as their performance drew closer, you both looked nervous. You knew why you were nervous, but why was Claudia?

As Sting himself introduced your girlfriend and her brother, the crowd erupted in cheers, making you giggle in pride as everyone loved on them.

You looked over at Claudia and smiled before turning your attention back to the stage as Billie started to speak. But something caught your eye.

“Claud what’s going on with her bangs?” You asked with a small giggle, figuring it was from your girlfriend was scootering around backstage instead of running a brush through her long hair like you usually would before her tour shows.

Claudia continued singing along, having not heard you, or so you thought. Claudia pretended not to hear because she was one of the first to see Billie earlier today after she cut her hair. She knew I would love it, I was just a little startled at sudden changes no matter how small. And I was in love with her long dark hair, and everyone knew it. I always hand a hand running though it, and I was always the one braiding it before her shows.

As Billie continued to bless the crowd with her vocals on Wildflower, I was distracted for a second by the echoing backing vocals coming from the crowd, making me a bit emotional. But my attention went right back to her hair when I looked back at Billie.

“Claudia… did she cut her hair?!” You bumped her hip and looked at her with wide eyes. She turned to face you and nodded with an ambiguous look in her eyes. Did you love it? Did you hate it? She couldn’t tell.

“When did she do that??” You asked with a giggle, and Claudia sighed out a laugh herself. Of course your first concern was with her schedule. You knew today was a busy, fast paced day and could not imagine Billie having a second to breathe let alone get her hair done.

You looked back over at the siblings as they started their next song but now all you could see was her hair. The once pin straight, long layers, were now a textured mix of waves and shorter layers, with some more framing around her face. As Billie sang her heart out, your mind was conflicted.

You loved the long shiny hair… but this new look… was also kinda hot.

Claudia looked back over at you and saw that thinking look in your eye. She threw an arm around your shoulder and shook it a bit before leaning down to giggle and say,

“It’s just hair babes. And if it makes you feel better, I have zero clue what Finneas has been doing with his lately.” That sent you into a fit of laughter, both of you doubled down cackling. You then threw your own arm around Claudia’s waist as they started “Birds of a Feather”.

“I know, I know. I’m being a little crybaby. But I’m gonna miss the blowout!” You said with a dramatic pout.

The two of you danced around, pointing at Billie and Finneas as you sang along to the infamous song, before you were being escorted backstage by your security.

Your heart was pounding. How were you going to react up close? I mean god she’s so pretty, but what about the new style? You love her always and as her girlfriend love everything she does, so this was a new feeling for you. A normal one, but new.

The two of you flopped down on some couches in her dressing room waiting for the pair to head backstage. The clock on the wall seemed to scream at you with every tick. Your leg bounced and you stomach started to hurt. Why did you feel like this??

The feeling immediately passed the second the door opened, and your pretty girl walked through with a sheepish smile on her face.

“Babyyyyy!!!!” She cried out, walking straight to you with open arms. You giggled as she smothered you in a bear hug while pressing kisses all over your face.

“Hi my love!” You said quietly, leaning back to get a good look at her.

“So.. I cut my hair today.” She said in her infamous little voice, making your nerves dissipate immediately. You sighed with a warm smile at her. Yeah, you couldn’t stay conflicted for long.

“I noticed my love,” You threaded your fingers through the layers, your smile only growing.

“You’re thinking about me at the oscar’s last year aren’t you,” Billie said with a sad smile.

“Maybe! It looked so pretty that night, can you blame me?” You giggled, but your giggles softened when Billie’s giggles didn’t match yours.

“Hey,” you said, sitting her down on the couch, Claudia and Finneas had already went back to his dressing room leaving you alone.

“How did I react when I came home from school one semester to you with blonde hair?” You asked softly.

“You said you missed my green highlighter-ness,” she said with a chuckle. Remembering how silly I was acting. “But then you told me I looked like sleeping beauty,” she said with a blush.

“And how did I react when you chopped it all off?”

“You kinda giggled in shock and pretended to be mad, but you fell asleep with your whole hand stuck in my hair, scratching my scalp.” Her smile was growing now.

“And when you took away my beloved red roots?” You said with a theatrical groan, officially getting Billie’s smile back.

“You moped around for like days about that babe,” She said with a chuckle.

“I did not!!” You softly hit her shoulder, giggling at her very true statement, knowing how much you loved the red.

As her laughter died down, you pushed her bangs out of her eyes and held her cheeks before kissing her nose.

“And what do I always tell you after all that?”

Billie flushed furiously, something only you could do and took great pride in.

“Mmmm I don’t think I remember what you told me…” She said in her little voice, looking around goofily. “I think you need to remind me.”

“Well, I have always told you, and will continue to tell you, no matter what your hair looks like, you my love *cheek kiss* are officially *other cheek kiss* the prettiest *forehead kiss* most beautiful *nose kiss* more perfect *corner of her lips* girl in the whole wide world.”

Billie’s cheeks hurt from the combined flush and from how hard she was smiling.

“So…. you like it?” She said sheepishly.

“Ok duh, you look so fucking hot. You could wear a potato sack and I’d still be on my knees.” Billie cackles at your statement, pulling you onto her lap to hug you.

“Thank you lovey. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was doing this. The opportunity was there and I’ve been wanting to try something new with my hair lately, so I went for it.”

“Baby, you don’t ever have to apologize for something like this. If it makes you happy, and makes you feel good… and it makes you look this fucking hot, I’m all for it sexy girl.” Billie smiled before leaning in to kiss you properly.

Her hand rested on your waist while the other snuck down to your ass, squeezing lightly. Your hands moved from their spot on her shoulder up to her hair, threading through the layers and pulling lightly making Billie groan into the kiss.

She pulled away with a smirk, “Oh so you really like it,” she said before pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“Mmmm hmmmmm.” You nodded biting your lip, a sparkle in your eyes.

“You wanna show me how much you like it mama?” She whispered, her other hand snaking down to your ass.

You didn’t even have to speak, just one look from you going from doe eyes to ravenous and the two of you packed up and ran out of there so fast, where you inevitably spent all night showing her how much you love it.

As the two of you laid in bed later that night, Billie had her head resting on your bare chest, her hand on your tummy. She felt your fingers playing with her hair slow down and your breathing start to even out a bit, and making her smile… and then giggle at the feeling of your hand tangled up in her hair as it always was.

an: if you couldn’t tell, it’s grown on me al lot🫣🤭 she seriously could wear a potato sack and she’d still look so beautiful🤭☺️

[mortionsickness]

morston, a post (and a hidden narrative)

im not here to start any fights or provoke or be inflammatory, so please, if you’re here to beef with me, just move on. if you’re willing to hear me out for one humble post, though, I love you <3 let’s start;

ok, so first of all can we all be real for a second?

facts: arthur morgan and john marston are not blood related.

arthur and john met at 22 and 12 years old respectively.

arthur and john as of the end of rdr2 are 26 and 36 years old.

ok? ok! let’s continue, please;

in fanon, arthur and john are always depicted as being raised as close brothers, annoyed by eachother but overall best buds. this is cute! but not necessarily canon.

what we can learn from arthur and john’s interactions, is that they had some real animosity— mainly arthur towards john. as said in arthur’s own journal he only started to like john by close to the end of the game. I could dismiss this as friendly ribbing, if it were not actually written in arthur’s Journal, where his most personal thoughts are stored. this being said, i could still dismiss it, but humor me for my humble post (I’ll elaborate more on this later).

by the start of the game, arthur resents john, for three main reasons;

number one, john left the gang for a year, disregarding the loyalty to dutch that arthur treasured so deeply

number two, john abandoned his family, the family that arthur never got to have in eliza and issac

number three, and the most important reason to this post, arthur was jealous of john. feeding into the last point, jealous of the family that john has, and jealous of dutch’s favoritism towards john.

from what we know, there is no evidence that the two were close growing up at all. in fact, i’d even say there’s evidence to the contrary;

“I did it for Abigail, of course, in her own way, the finest woman I know, but also for Jack and I guess Marston himself. I kind of like him.

We’ve argued over the years, but I’ve grown to care a little for him. He’s less of a fool than he was,”

what we can learn from this passage is that arthur didn’t think much of john over the years, and that he’s grown to care “a little” for him. key word is grown. if the two were close growing up, like brothers, he would probably have more to say about him than that he’s grown to kind of like him a little bit.

once again, I could dismiss this as ribbing, but what reason does he have to do so in his own personal journal besides some kind of bizarre denial? he says he loves other characters straight up.

now that we’ve established that the brotherly childhood bond is, for the most part, cute fanon, I’d like to talk about the hidden narrative between these two characters, particularly through their relation to dutch.

what we learn over the course of the game, and through john and arthur’s conversations is that the two have, to some degree, competed for dutch’s attention.

john says this during chapter 6, for example.

from my perspective, it looks like dutch, their abuser (because yes, he is their abuser and not their father, i could make a whole other post about this), has pitted arthur and john against each other, or at least perpetuated the rivalry between the two of them.

by the end of the game, john and arthur have broken out of this rivalry, and learned to care for one another. this is the narrative that I enjoy morston by.

not of two close brothers who were in love at age 12 and 22.

I view it as a story of two victims of the same abuser who happened to grow up alongside eachother, resenting eachother all the while. of the two of them learning what was done to them was wrong, and breaking the cycle together, trying to move forward together, and finally growing to care for eachother through the process. this is why morston is not “problematic” or “taboo” to me.

as for the two of them meeting at the ages they did, what I have to say is this; let’s examine why we fear these situations so much.

in real life, we are uncomfortable (rightly so!) with situations like these due to the extreme power imbalance at said ages, and maturity differences. we’re scared because the adult may take advantage of these said things, in order to groom them into being a romantic partner later in life, even if they don’t outright date them as a kid.

as someone who has been groomed, let me explain; the reason why we are dubious of these situations is because we don’t know the older party’s intentions, and we assume they will take advantage of the power dynamic. in fiction, however, I believe this is different.

arthur morgan would never groom a child. we know this to be true. we know his intentions, his motivations, his soul. why do we assume in the case of morston that he had to have groomed him?

textually, john and arthur are 26 and 36 by the time they even begin to get along, with 0 evidence that they were remotely close at a young age. the two could’ve barely talked. were scared of something in this scenario that we’re rightly scared of irl, but we know the situation, we know the stakes, and we know that this is not a situation where john would be taken advantage of, because he is a grown 26 year old man with a wife and child by the time him and arthur even interact kindly with eachother. he had been an adult for 8 entire years.

fiction can effect reality, yes, but if people just widely understood that this is not a situation where the two of them would have any chance of getting together before they’re both well into adulthood, then it wouldn’t be a problem. because this is not a dangerous situation, for john or for anyone.

john was not groomed by anyone other than dutch van der linde, and that’s a fact. both arthur and john were groomed and this is a story about getting out, together. moving on, together. loving each other in the face of opposing forces, and purposeful wedges between them. and I think that’s a story that is a net good.

[secret-third-thing]

hi! I am very new to the Azris fandom (the ship has consumed me) do you have any fic recs?

Hey! Welcome to the fandom <3

There are more fics than I can possibly name, so I pinged some of my Azris buddies to get some recommendations to share with you. Here are fics they've written or recommended. And be sure to check out @azrisweek for past azris fics (and future fics coming to you this June!)

In no particular order:

what hath night to do with sleep by @iftheshoef1tz

In 1968, Eris Vanserra is leading a double life. In West Berlin, he is a promising new doctor who frequents queer clubs, fucking his way through his friend circle. In his parents’ village, though, he walks the thin line between success and failure under his father’s brutal repression. Eventually, he realizes there can be no way forward unless he takes matters into his own hands. He summons a demon.

All Things End by @acourtofladydeath

Eris struggles with losing his memory due to complications from traumatic brain injuries caused by Beron's abuse. He forgets parts of his life and steps down from the mantle of High Lord. Azriel and their children take care of him the best they can, until he eventually passes away. After losing his mate, Azriel tries to move forward, but eventually dies from a broken heart. This is a very sad fic, but they love each other very much. Based off a tumblr post and written with permission from the creator of the original idea.

Red Ferrari by @ysmtttty

Azris AU, where Azriel is a mechanic and has his own service station. One day, Eris comes there because something is wrong with his car.

Collateral Damage by @g00seg1rl

Eris is having a bad day. His twerp of a little brother, Lucien, crashed his car into a motorcyclist. Eris expects chaos and insurance nightmares. Instead, he gets a hot date.

I Need You by @neciebee

Azriel had always wanted a mate. Both of his brothers were so happy with theirs. It used to be the three of them together, but now his brothers had their own lives and wives and Azriel could not contain his envy. All he had was this. Dirty, secret, meaningless. Perhaps he could pretend it was something, if he’d just take one bite.

Once More to See You by @buffy-vanserra

Days after Feyre and Lucien are rescued from the Winter Court border, Eris finds Azriel snooping in his father’s woods. They fall into old habits and discuss a path forward. Or: The story of how Eris entered his alliance with the Night Court

Fall by @gravitysthrall

Eris knew cruelty and kindness could grow in the same soil. The existence of his parents fruitful centuries under the same roof was proof enough. Fall in love. Fall from grace. Fall through worlds. Azris series continuation of ACOSF / HOFAS. 3rd person multi-POV

What We Deserve by @chunkypossum

Once upon a time, Eris thought that he and Azriel could be mates whose bond just hadn’t settled yet. It didn’t make sense for him to be so drawn to the male when they were at odds in every other way. It had to be the Mother, had to be fate. Now he knew for sure, it had been none of those things, only simple, stupid want. What happens when Azriel finally finds his mate but it isn't the male he is already in love with?

What Lies Inside by @ofduskanddreams

Like a cloak of heat and flame, the power of the Autumn Court settled on his shoulders. The air crackled and sparked as the very foundations of the Forest House trembled beneath the blood-spattered boots of its new High Lord. Eris Vanserra opened his eyes, expecting the world to be shrouded in flame. Instead, he saw the shadowsinger standing near the foot of the dais, wreathed in wisps of darkness. The Illyrian's green-bronze eyes glinted with curiosity and caution and flecks of burnished gold. There was only gold. A golden thread spooled out of his chest towards the winged male. The one who'd been his sworn enemy for over five-hundred years. Rhysand's spymaster. The feared shadowsinger. Azriel. His... mate.

Caged in Gold by @aurorasleeps-27

Adorned in Eris’ gold, shadows streaming down his face, Azriel is the most beautiful thing Eris has ever owned.

If you want some VERY dark stuff, and don't mind Nesta being thrown into the mix, read And The Hounds Bayed 🐶🐶🐶

[thewardenisonthecase]

Four Years

Alistair x F!Cousland

Read on AO3

Summary: Alistair writes a letter to his love.

A/N: this is based on the @loveofdragonage prompt of A Lifetime of Devotion.

word count: 803

Today marked four years since Anneliese had gone out to look for a cure. 

“I won’t be long gone.” She had told him. “Besides, I’ll keep in touch.” 

It had been months since the last time he heard of her. The crown on Alistair’s head was heavier than ever. He had managed for this long without her but for much more would he have to suffer? 

Eamon had told him he needed to move on and accept that Anneliese had been lost. Alistair refused. He knew his wife well - she could not be dead. 

And even if she was, he would not turn on his vows. Years before, when they were young and with an Archdemon to defeat, he told her that she was the first and only woman he would lay with, if it depended on him. 

Alistair prayed more than he did when he lived in the Chantry. He’d beg for the Maker to keep her safe, for her to return to his side. He did not think the Maker was listening to him, however. 

When day’s like today happened, when he was feeling particularly mellow, Alistair would write letters. He did not know where Anneliese was and thus, he could not send them to her, but they helped alleviate his feelings. 

Sitting down, he began to write on a piece of paper. 

“It’s been four years since you’ve left and I keep thinking about the day we met. 

Duncan had sent me a letter in advance about you, the recruit from Highever. He hadn’t said much, and by the time the two of you arrived, I’d forgotten most of it. 

‘Nothing like a Blight to bring people together’ was the first thing I ever said to you. You had a haunted expression on your face, and yet, I saw a small smirk on your face and you told me you understood. No one had ever liked my jokes before you. 

I didn’t know then how much you would mean to me. I never expected to fall in love, much less to have that reciprocated. 

There was a moment when I thought you hated me. After all, with the way I lashed out after Connor’s death, I wouldn’t blame you if you did not care for me again. But then you returned my mother’s locket to me and I wondered how could you show kindness to someone who had just said the most awful things to you? 

I felt guilty. You had lost your family, your home and Ostagar, and there I was, adding to that burden - either by crying about Duncan or by questioning your decisions, even when I was the one who put you in that position. 

I said that then and I’ll say it again now: I thought I was fooling myself. How could someone like you - strong, charming, beautiful and smart - fall for a poor sucker like me? And yet, despite it being the worst time ever, you loved me back. 

The face you made when I gave you that rose…I won’t forget it. Just as I’ll never forget your smile and laughter when I made a stupid joke. Or how incredibly hot you looked whenever you were on the battlefield. Or the smell of your hair, or the feel of your hands against my skin. 

I’ll never forget the vows we made to each other on our wedding day. How long has it been since then? Ten years? Not a day has gone by where you were not on my mind. 

It’s been four years, Anneliese. I don’t know how your search fares, but please, come back home. 

You were always a fighter. If someone told you there was no other way, you would find one. You always found a way for us to live. But I have made my peace. 

We won’t get forever, my love. Such is the plight of the Wardens. 

We won’t grow old. We are beyond children at this rate. Perhaps one day we’ll have to make our way to the Deep Roads. But I can bear all that as long as I have you at my side. 

Please. Anneliese. I beg of you. Come back to me” 

A few tears had stained the words on the paper. He wiped his face with a handkerchief - the one she had embroidered with a rose. Silently, he folded the letter and placed it on top of the pile with all the other unsent letters and he made himself ready to face the day. 

Anneliese would not want him to give up hope. She especially would not want to stop living because of her. 

‘If she comes back and sees this country in a mess, she’ll feed me to the darkspawn’ Alistair thought and then shook his head. 

When. 

When she comes back. 

[honeyryewhiskey]

everything in between Ⓒ 1999

the memory box. — headcannons from teenhood.

story intro page !

Your nickname, Bug, came from Dean. Aunt Hadley brought you over to her friend Bobby’s house not long after John left the boys in his care. You were fascinated by the old Chevy parked in the yard, marveling at the fact that Dean, barely 14, already had a car. With endless curiosity, you peppered him with questions while practically crawling over the Impala to inspect it. Dean, arms crossed and brows furrowed, finally huffed, “You’re like a bug, y’know that? Annoying and buzzin' around my head.” Despite his gruff demeanor, it didn’t take long for you to buzz right past the walls he tried so hard to keep up. 

Sam, on the other hand, was shy and polite—so polite it was almost painful. That first summer, he barely said a word to you or Aunt Hadley. He didn’t stray far from Dean, a little doe-eyed shadow trotting behind the two of you every day. But when you noticed his love for reading, you spent your spring earnings on a pile of books for him. The way Sam’s face lit up, his grin brighter than the summer sun, made it worth every penny. From then on, he’d chat your ear off about whatever he was reading. Dean, overhearing one of these enthusiastic book talks, would smirk and tease, “Nerds of a feather flock together.”

You were never a mischievous child, no, as your aunt would say “she's—curious. Can’t help following her nose whenever some stink catches her interest.” Dean—his middle name is mischief. Together, the two of you always found something to get into. Like the time you discovered Bobby’s dusty hunting guns. Dean explained rock-salt ammunition and gave you a crash course on firing them behind the scrapyard. Bobby stormed out mid-lesson, voice booming, “You idjits better quit before you shoot your damn feet off!”

Not all your troublemaking was dangerous. Some of it was downright silly, like distracting Dean from working on cars by showing up with candy and a box of cassette tapes. Bobby would find the two of you sprawled out in the garage, music blaring and laughter bouncing off the walls.

Of course, none of you were above pranks either—like the time you and Sam hid Dean’s toolbox. His revenge? Removing the front wheel of your bike and leaving it by the porch with a note jammed under the tire shield: This is what betrayal looks like.

as you and Dean grew closer, you spent many nights up in his room talking for hours. Lying on opposite ends of his bed, staring off into space, your conversations would roll into the stuff neither of you cared to talk about in the light of day. "Do you miss him, your dad I mean, do you ever wish he'd come back?" you whisper. Dean was quiet, rolling your words over in his head before sighing, "No—I used to think I wanted him to come back. Especially that first summer." A dry chuckle came out of him before he continued, "But, I don't know... Sammy's happy here. Bobby's good to us. And besides, Bug, I've got you now." He couldn't see your smile from where he rested, but it was growing across your features. "Yeah,I guess I don't mind having you two around." "What about you, huh? You never talk about your dad." "Not much to miss," you shrug, "can't miss someone you never really knew."

You and Sam would study together at your Aunt’s Bakery after school. Dean, bored out of his mind, would hang around to eat Aunt Hadley’s pie and pester the two of you. 

At fifteen, you had your first date with a senior boy. Nervous and jittery, you spent all afternoon at Bobby’s trying to distract yourself from thoughts of the date. When he pulled up in his muscle car, Dean made a big show of polishing a wrench and glaring at the guy. Bobby told him to “quit tryin’ to scare the damn kid.”  But Dean just quipped back, “I’m doing my job.”

It was shortly after that date, when things didn’t work out with Mr. Muscle Car, that you got your first kiss. It was with Dean, during one of your movie nights in Bobby’s living room. The two of you were quiet for a moment, an awkward silence filling the air as neither of you could really look at each other. “Dean, I don’t think I can see you as anything other than like—my annoying best friend that snores in his sleep and burps too loud.” He gave you a sheepish laugh, cheeks a bright pink as he nodded.  “Yeah,” his hand goes up to rub his jaw, “yeah, you’re right. Pretend this never happened?” “Deal.” you were quick to respond, and the agreement was sealed with a handshake. 

Sam roped you into a science fair project when he was 12. The experiment ended in a minor explosion in Bobby’s garage. Dean walked in coughing through the smoke, muttering, “What the hell are you two doing? Trying to blow up the yard?”

You and Dean often worked on cars in the yard while Sam sat nearby with a book. Dean would teach you how to fix things. Bobby once walked by as Dean leaned over your shoulder to help, grumbling, “Get a room, you two.” Both of you turned bright pink and stumbled over awkward denials.

John’s rare calls were a shadow over those years. You always knew when he’d called the moment you saw Dean. He’d go find you—whether in your bedroom or the library—and wordlessly drop into a chair beside you, his teasing smile nowhere in sight. You never pressed him to talk. Instead, you’d hug him until the weight on his shoulders spilled out in quiet confessions.

Aunt Hadley once caught Dean sneaking out of the bakery with extra cookies. She crossed her arms and said, “Dean Winchester, put those back.” Dean sheepishly returned them…except for one he hid behind his back.

You stole Dean’s leather jacket once, just to see how long it would take him to notice. When he finally did, he cornered you and said, “Bug, if you don’t give that back, I’m telling everyone about your obsession with NSYNC.”

Whenever you and Dean got into one of your bickering matches, Sam would sigh dramatically and say, “You two fight like an old married couple.” Earning a matching pair of glares, and a unison, “shut it, Sammy.”

He was also the first to notice how fond you were of each other. Even if neither you or Dean had a clue about it. Once, he sat on the edge of the tub as you were patching up a cut on Dean’s hand—after he’d gotten a little too mouthy with the school meatheads and had to fight his way out. Sam would scoff, his squeaky puberty voice muttering, “Just kiss already.” You and Dean both turned crimson, shooting half-hearted insults at him in retaliation.

— Unbeknownst to you at the time, the Winchesters and Bobby became the family you hadn’t realized you were missing. Growing up, you’d always hovered on the fringes of social circles—too shy to make the first move, too quiet to join in. That summer of ’95 changed everything. The pangs of loneliness faded, replaced by the warmth of belonging. Your Aunt Hadley had always been your rock, her love steady and unwavering, but the boys brought something back: your spark.

[ghostie-sam]

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Cw: Death is mentioned ALOT like this is the main theme of it

Before we start I give a date and it’s kinda odd since the musical it says it takes place in 67 but I’ve heard that the events take place in 65 so I’m going with that! I also am sorry for advance if this is written weird 😭🙏 I did this in SCHOOL.

After Johnny and Dally die, things are odd for a bit; everyone’s a little bit closer and a bit more protective till the grief dies down (but never fully goes away). Pony finishes “The Outsiders” and gives it to his English teacher, who then helps/pushes him to publish it, and everything starts to look up for the gang of Greasers.

 

Then in 1967 the worst thing happened: just a bit before Soda's 19th birthday, he got drafted. Steve almost immediately enlisted but told everyone he was drafted too. The following year, Soda died from a bomb that went off, got mostly his arm and leg, but he bled out while Steve held him, unable to get him back to med in time. The year after that, Steve got shot and killed. Everyone said after Soda passed, Steve became reckless and reminded Pony of Dally and Johnny a painful amount.

 

Everything goes back into routine; sometimes it’s almost like the gang never existed, that it was always just a very distant trio. As Pony grew up, he eventually became older than his best friend, older than his brother, older than they’ll ever be. He started to forget more about them; they weren’t on his mind every second. He didn’t see them in everything; they became a background thought. He’d only remember every now and then.

 

Pony managed to publish The Outsiders, and it got popular quick, changing the way a lot of people in Tulsa saw them, and whenever Pony would see any of the gang members names or the “stay gold” quote, it made everything feel a bit better, like this was the way things were supposed to be.

 

Then in 1988 they lose another member, Darrel; he dies in a work accident. Pony and Soda used to joke that work would kill Darry one day, and if only they knew how true that’d end up being, maybe they wouldn’t have joked about it so much. Darry was 43 when he died, and Pony was 37. It hit Pony like a truck; suddenly he was 14 again, crying and not eating. Suddenly it felt like he was 17, grieving Soda once more, but this was different; this was his LAST family member.

Pony then contacted Two-Bit for the first time in years. He was 41 and as sharp-witted as ever, still drinking and still in love with Mickey Mouse, and they started spending time together again, and it was like they were teens again, having playful banter around their Curtis brothers house while Two-Bit and Steve shoved cake in their mouths, and it helped Pony manage his grief better this time.

 

But like everything else in Pony’s life, nothing stays. Two-bit eventually dies from liver failure in 1999. Longer, anyone thought his drinking would let him live since he made it to 52, and he died alone in his house with Mickey on the TV and a slice of cake on the end table. Pony found it poetic that the loudest of them was the only one to die alone. Johnny had Dally and Pony; Dally had the gang; Soda had Steve; Steve had the other soldiers; and Darry had his work crew around him. 

 

Pony focuses on himself and his family after this. He watches his kids grow, and they watch his brown hair turn grey slowly yet surely. Eventually, after a while, Pony starts to tune into Mickey; every day on the hour, he’d ask for chocolate cake every now and then, and he’d put grease in his hair. He’d go and watch rodeos, and he’d re-read Gone With The Wind over and over again.

 

One day his kids come to visit him; it’s 2021, he’s coming close to his 70th birthday, and his kids have the intent to show him the impact his book has on newer generations, making people feel like they belong, but when they get to the nursing home, Pony’s sitting on a very old recliner, Darry’s old one that he saved for when he got this old; he’s watching Mickey and turns to his kids, an almost childlike smile on his face; he tells them the gang should be here soon and to come sit, but when Mickey finishes, Pony’s already gone, that faint smile still on his face.

 

The gang is finally whole again, and they have no intention of leaving each other ever again.

[novaknows]

My F1 Fics Master Post

-

I found the End of the Night (in your room) [Carcar]

| E | 1/1 | 2,627 words

The lights are off as he steps in. and its almost quiet. Almost. Carlos’s smile falls as he steps into the room, eyes trying to find a light switch in the dark. There is a sound of breathing, off kilter and hiccupping slightly. Its coming from a human sized lump on the bed. And Carlos and Oscar haven’t been together all that long, certainly not long enough for Carlos to see him cry, but long enough for his heart to shatter at the sound of it. “Mi Amor?”

-

Bad Pennies [Brocedes]

| T | 1/1 | 2,386 words

The key comes out, and with it comes a series of pennies, scattering with a metallic rattle across the copper tiles of the floor. And he looks at them, eyes impassive as a final coin settles with a click. Later he would find it a premonition of sorts, an ill omen of the hours to come. But for now, he just sighs and closes his eyes, cursing those pennies now like he did as a boy.

-

Time to Practice Growing Old [Webbonso]

| G | 1/1 | 3,502 words

Oscar barely pays attention to it as he looks down at the content of the spilled box and his thoughts are suddenly pulled away. And look, Oscar doesn’t want to pry into Mark’s life, but the man is out of the building for the next hour or so, and the curiosity is killing him.

-

Saying Something Stupid (Like I Love You) [Lestappen]

| T | 15/? | 32,368 words

For a brief moment, max feels like he’s flying. His mind is as calm as it is when he sends his car down a long straight, throttle pushed flat out. But then in his mind, he is breaking hard going into the chicane of realizing the implications of what he is doing, now that the elation of having said something has worn off. He is going to be the first gay driver in formula one. Aka Max comes out as gay and makes his crush on Charles everyone else's problem

-

keep up with my fics by checking me out on A03! i write under Kittcatness

[crazylittlejester]

Could you give us more about trans Time? (If that’s okay!)

Love that hc btw, it makes me really happy ^^

hell yes i can!! I love trans Time, trans that man's gender. oot link is like the vibes of transgenderism compressed into one single silly little guy (gender neutral). however people trans oot link's gender is always correct in my mind (i personally hc him to be ftm but i really do love seeing any version of him that's not cis)

im gonna apologize rn for any typos or oddly autocorrected words im dyslexic and my laptop works against me sometimes lmao

anyways not sure what exactly you wanted to know (and feel free to ask more questions!!) but i think this was in reference to my modern au post so!!:

Time was born in the late 70s (since the au takes place in present day and he is a good 25 years older than Twi), so growing up he didn't really see a whole lot of trans people who could've helped him realize he was trans sooner, especially because his childhood was mostly him having an awful time with his physical health and arguing with his father for the chance to go to public school and not be homeschooled like his siblings (he is the youngest of 6) because he didn't get along with all of them and wanted to meet new people

Looking back on it NOW he can recognize he realized he was trans when he was like, 12, but at the time he didn't really know what that was and just cut his hair short and didn't understand why he got so happy when people mistakenly called him a boy

There was a period of time where he was confused and thought he was a lesbian (he is bisexual) and he dated Ruto for like a year in high school but they kinda ended up becoming friends instead (they're STILL friends), and then he dated Sheik, who is a trans man, and the realization hit him like a bus

He graduated high school and then just kinda dipped off the map, he didn't realy have friends (besides Ruto, and MALON considered them friends but he didn't realize she liked him that much) so he didn't really keep in contact with people except for Sheik (he was also doing pretty bad physically at this point in time), but he started socially transitioning around 18 and was able to start medically transitioning around 20. Not all his siblings were super accepting, and he's completely cut contact with one of them, but his sister closest to him in age who was his best friend growing up was his biggest supporter

(this modern au takes place in a modernized Hyrule kingdom loosely based on where I live because obviously where I live is the best idea I have of how modern sociey works since I'm living in it, lmao, but Hyrule kingdom was a little more progressive in the late 90s and while gender affirming care wasn't SUPER easy to access, it WAS accessable. the main issue for Time was transphobia from his oldest brother and the people from his INCREDIBLY tightknit town, because outside of that people didn't know he was trans)

Malon was fully aware he was trans because she met him before HE realized that, so when those two got together he didn't have to worry about telling her or anything. And they WERE going to adopt kids at some point, but then Time's sister died and her husband had passed away too and she'd written in her will that she'd wanted Time to take care of her baby (Twi), because she wanted him to have a wonderful environment growing up and she trusted Time more than their other siblings even though they'd all already settled down and had their own kids and were experienced parents (also to be fair, she didn't expect to die and leave her 13 month old an orphan. it was just an IN the event of her death kinda thing, she very much would've rather been able to raise her kid herself)

Time doesn't really give two fucks about passing, not anymore, he wears what he wants, but most people DO assume he's a cis man because he's decently tall and has a deeper, monotoned voice. Transphobia does still exist in Hyrule Kingdom, though it's not as bad as it was when Time was a kid, and also the city where the boys' apartment in is incredibly LGBTQ+ friendly (not that that means homophobia and transphobia don't exist, it's just a much safer area to be out that other places in the kingdom) so he doesn't ever feel like he has to HIDE being trans. He goes to pride parades sometimes (when he knows he won't get overwhelmed) and he and Malon are definitely that older couple who give out free supportive parent hugs to people who really need it

Legend in this au is also a trans man, and I wouldn't call Wild cis but he's amab and uses he/him pronouns at the moment while he figures things out (he's also perfectly fine with they/them)

[myarmsaretoolong]

january recs

gunna try to do one of these each month with good stuff ive read recently! this month'll be more than just january as its the first =D (below the cut cos its really quite long)

Just this once by Beleriandings

(Everybody lives.) (Or: when a certain Doctor arrives to save Owen Harper from a stricken nuclear power station, it begins a chain of events that will lead Torchwood Three down a very different path. From time locks and telepathy to tea and coffee, high-speed chases to unresolved sibling issues, their new lives (and new and old loves) may be different, but their bonds of friendship and family grow stronger every day. But when every child on earth starts speaking with one voice, the team are torn apart again as they’re forced to fight for their lives, and to confront monsters they’d thought they’d left behind in the past. But with all of them working together – along with some allies they’ve made along the way – Torchwood Three will stop at nothing to save their friends and set the world to rights. The consequences will ripple out across the universe and into the distant future. But they have to start somewhere, and the present is as good a place as any.)

this fic is pure brilliance!! i was screaming in the comments on multiple occasions. the characterisations are so fun and fit right along the series. overall just great!

you'll fit so nicely, you'll keep me intact by thirteeninafez

The woman walked away with one last brilliant, world-stopping smile, and Tosh let out a long sigh. She looked down at the name and number scribbled onto the paper. The thing was, in that one moment, Tosh could see herself falling entirely in love with the glowing, wonderful Lois. Or, the one where Tosh not only lives past Exit Wounds, but flourishes.

i loooved this one! tosh is still alive by the time children of earth rolls around and she and lois fall in love in the sweetest way <3

here is the deepest secret nobody knows by blackkat

Ianto closes his eyes in Thames House, lungs full of choking alien gas, and opens them in his sister's house in Cardiff.

we all need a good bit of fix it in this fandom, and this is a great one

The Zagrith's Claw by AVAAntares

Changing fate always demands a price -- and sometimes, the cure can be worse than the disease.

good bit of a case fic here, nice characterisations going on

Aftershocks by SqutternutBosh

The first episode of yet another alternate season 3! Follows on from Exit Wounds but imagines Tosh and Owen narrowly escaped their fates. Torchwood are picking up the pieces and dealing with the consequences of Gray's attack on the city when a series of time slips start to appear across Cardiff...

the brilliant first part in a brilliant series that rewrites series three in the style of the first two with the whole torchcrew along for the ride. (im not gunna put each individual fic here for the sake of brevity but take this a rec for them all, serious they're fantastic!)

it's all been done before by girlsaturday

- @girlsaturday

Tosh gets trapped in a time loop. It just might end up being a good thing.

beloved time loop fic <3 great read!

Bad In Your Blood by CaptainFairyGodmother

- @captainfairygodmother

There were only two constants in life at Torchwood; one, that it was almost a certainty that you would not make it to see your first pension payment; and two, that Ianto Jones and Owen Harper would be arguing. At least one of the constants was preventable- and it certainly was not the arguing. OR; Ianto and Owen are brothers AU, in which Owen's refusal to acknowledge Ianto as his brother- let alone form a familial relationship with him- may just lead to the death of the whole team.

amazing concept with amazing execution

The Many Returns of Ianto Jones by bluetrees

@b1uetrees

The first time can be discounted as a fluke, a wonder of genetics. The second as plausible deniability. The third as a pattern, and a problem. Every other time, as a curse. Ianto Jones died a long time ago. So why did Jack keep running into him?

fair to call this a masterpiece

Because It's All About Him by nigohyu

Jack Harkness and Martha Jones meet sporadically over the years. Exhausted, they try not to talk about the Doctor, but the scars are always there. "He’s a drug, a damn addictive drug."

a bittersweet and much needed conversation

To The Sticking Place by zephyras13

The end justifies the means. Failure is not an option. There is always a choice, except when there isn't. These are the phrases Ianto Jones lives by and he refuses to allow anyone, even Captain Jack Harkness, to change that. Jack/Ianto, AU, Torchwood One Agent!Ianto.

a very different take on ianto and so so fun to read!

cravings by leere

(or, how to have a love life when you're a zombie)

owandy <3 enough said <3

and of course go and check out the pinned masterlist on @torchwoodfanweek for loads more fantastic stuff to read!

[dendroseelie]

love letters | alhaitham x reader

prologue.

On the outside, it may often appear to most that Alhaitham, the renowned scribe of Akademiya, is one who perhaps is not a man of feelings - or at least a man who refuses to necessarily indulge in them.

But to others, who have miraculously happened to surpass the notoriously introverted scholar’s walls of apathy, know that he holds a softness that people are simply not privy to. For instance, he carries a small bag of cat food on his person for the occasions he runs into Poppy, the stray that lingers around the shop he frequents for his cup of chai. Or how Miss Jameela - the old lady who lives some doors down - tells her group of elderly lady friends about the many times Alhaitham will drop by unannounced with a packet full of fruits because he happened to buy some extra.

Is his nonchalance because he wants to maintain an image of authority? Or does he put up such an air so people don’t approach and bother him unnecessarily? Whatever it may be simply does not extend to you. You…you are beyond all of this. From the moment he had first seen you, browsing through the troves of the grand oak bookshelves of the library, hands fluttering over the spines of various books, eyes scanning the titles - Alhaitham knew he was a weak man. A mere glimpse of you had his walls crumbling within seconds.

Kaveh and Tighnari tease him about it every so often when they gather around for drinks. He also often ends up being the butt of Cyno’s insufferable puns. “He’s so enamoured around Y/N! You’d think that he was a man out of a romance novel.”

Tighnari always nods in agreement. “Archons know that even after we went through so much together, he merely spoke a few words to us still! It took us months to get here!”

Kaveh, his cheeks flushed from the drinks and his eyes glazed over, agrees aggressively. “You’re correct! I mean what is so special about Y/N?”

What is so special about Y/N? Generally, Alhaitham does not care much about most things Kaveh says, his brain automatically filtering out the useful parts of his babblin. Yet tonight, he finds himself pondering over Kaveh’s passing comment, when he’s sitting in the quiet of his room, at his desk. The soft light of his lamp casts a warm glow over his face, much like how the sight of you seems to warm his insides, an ever-growing feeling simmering within his chest almost as if you’ve placed the sun within his chest. You are the sun, Alhaitham thinks absent-mindedly and the weight of this thought startles him so enormously that he has to nearly steady himself for a moment.

Alhaitham takes a deep breath when he finds his heart stuttering underneath his ribs. He shakes his head, hoping the heat blooming in cheeks would dissipate. It does not. So he grabs a paper and his dearest fountain pen and begins writing.

Y/N Y/LN.

author's note: heheh surprise? i knew i said I was just going to schedule up some small drabbles but as I was writing this i thought this would be such a lovely series — all about a smitten alhaitham <333 i didn't have a lot of time so I'm not putting in a lot of the details of the series in rn but i will be adding them later on

[cjlouwho]

a prompt: don't really care what, but I loved your little Husbands fic you did and I'd love more husband stuff with tommy and buck!

Okay, I adored writing this. I hope you don't mind I added "dads" into the equation too!

(ao3 link if you'd rather read there)

Old Man

“How about this one?”

Buck turned around to see Tommy holding a bright blue cane. He was hunched over, a hand on his back, as he shuffled himself forward using the cane for support.

Buck rolled his eyes. “Oh my God!” he exclaimed. “You're not an old man, Tommy.”

“That's not what that kid said the other day.”

“'That kid' is our kid, Tom.”

“Well, when he's calling me an old man he's that kid. What four year old calls his dad an old man? Where'd he even learn that from?”

“I don't know, maybe from the father that called the man in the restaurant the same thing not even two weeks ago, in front of said child?” Buck stared at Tommy pointedly.

“Okay, but that was an actual old man and he kept being rude to the waitress.”

“Doesn't mean you had to turn to RJ and tell him that he was a grumpy old fart man that deserved laser beams fired at his toupee.”

“You're gonna remember that forever, aren't you?”

Buck sighed. “Can I get back to finding RJ's favorite toothpaste now? Is the crisis over?”

“No, it's not over, Evan. It's not over because I'm forty-six and I have a son who thinks I'm eighty!”

“If it makes you feel any better, he- he thought I was half golden retriever last week.”

“How would that make me feel better? You are half golden retriever.”

Buck picked up a tube of toothpaste that was nearest him. “I will throw this at you.”

“And risk injuring the elderly?”

Buck tossed it toward him, hitting his chest before it fell to the ground. Tommy just looked down at it. “You know I'll never be able to reach down that far to pick it up. Not with my sciatica.”

“Tommy, I swear to God.”

“Okay, okay,” Tommy surrendered, reaching down to pick up the tube. “I still think the comment was undeserved.”

“You grunted as you got up out of your recliner to go get your reading glasses, Tommy. Think about it.”

A beat of silence, then, “Oh my God. Oh my God, Evan, I'm old!”

Buck's head fell forward, eyes closing as he tried to calm himself. “This is how I die, isn't it? I- I've survived the unsurvivable, but this is what's gonna take me out.”

“I like to sit out on the front porch every evening and watch cars go by.”

“They'll put it on my tombstone, 'Lightning couldn't get him, but his husband did.'”

“The last time I bought socks, I got the ones that go higher on the calf. They're just more comfortable, Evan!”

“Maybe if I tug hard enough, this whole shelf will topple on me and I'll get a week's coma out of it.”

“The other day at work, I used the word 'ruckus' in a sentence! Ruckus!”

“Tommy!”

“Evan!”

Buck sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I need you to calm down, please. Do the breathing thing we taught RJ, or I will leave you on this aisle, so help me.”

Tommy closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath through his nose, breathing out through his mouth. “Smell the rose, blow out the candle.” That's what they'd taught RJ after a set of particularly embarrassing, public temper tantrums that started not long after he turned three. “Fine,” Tommy said after a couple breaths, “I'm fine.”

“Praise be.” Buck started to turn and resume his search for the “bubblegum toofpaste but not da white one” when Tommy stopped him again.

“Hey.” He used the cane as an extension of his hand, lifting it to Buck's waist to pull him closer. Buck groaned, but moved toward him. “Will you still love me when I'm actually old?”

He already knows the answer. Of course he knows. They still ask the question all the time, “Will you still love me when...?” simply because it's nice to hear the answer.

“I think that was the whole point of this,” Buck said, raising his hand to show Tommy the ring on his finger. “Did you forget your vows, old man? Sickness and health. The whole death thing? I'm here for the long haul.”

“Promise?”

Buck gave the three finger salute. “Scouts honor,” he said, then added, “plus I heard divorces are expensive.”

“Aye!” Tommy yelped, using the cane to swat at Buck's ass as he turned back to the toothpaste.

Buck squatted down to search the bottom row of the aisle as Tommy put the cane back. “Oh, here you go,” he said once Tommy had returned, tossing him a box that he actually caught this time.

Polident.

Buck smiled brightly at him. “For your dentures.”

[my-cabbages-gorl]

“Before you helped him save the world, he helped save you, my dear prince” - Iroh to Prince Zuko, Legacy of the Fire Nation

[skeletalheartattack]

...am I just losing my mind or did yer icon become evil? I don't remember that BeAst behind Boe

yuuuump always been behind me

[sesamestreep]

Din Djarin, 30

30. was it worth it? (from this list) further adventures in that modern au with anti-social baseball cap wearing single dad din djarin because i have no idea what's happening on the show anymore, let's doooo this

Once Din pulls into the driveway, he cuts the engine and sends up a tentative prayer to the universe that the sound is not enough to wake Grogu up. The kid is zonked out in his booster seat in the back, clutching the stuffed animal Din had won him at the fair—at the booth where you shoot a target with a water pistol to make it move, of course, because his aim is still worth writing home about after all these years—and seemingly unbothered by the sudden quiet. Din breathes a sigh of relief and then shifts his focus to the daunting task of trying to get this kid out of his seat, up two flights of stairs, and into the apartment without somehow waking him. It's not going to be easy.

With another sigh, Din opens the door and keeps it there with his foot as he digs around in the center console for his phone and his wallet before pulling the keys out of the ignition. Belatedly, he sees the golden light pouring from the open garage door and realizes Cal must be working in there still. Before Din can properly catch up, Cal is already outside and on his way over.

"I'll uh," Din says, as he gets out, gesturing back at the car, "I'll get this out of your way in a few, I just gotta get the kid upstairs first."

Cal shakes his head, already smiling. "No rush," he says, easily. "We're not going anywhere. And besides, you're always up early anyway. Do it in the morning."

"I don't want to block you all in, if you need to—"

"Like I said, we're not going anywhere. It's fine."

"Well—”

"I'll ask Merrin, if it'll make you feel better! But she will definitely also say it's fine."

Merrin is Cal's—well, Din isn't sure if they're married or not. Cal doesn't wear a ring and Merrin wears dozens, so it's hard to tell. They're definitely a couple, because they do that seamless first person plural thing all the time when they talk about each other, but if they happen to refer to each other in the third person, they just use each other's names, rather than “my spouse” or “my partner”, except for the time Cal—perhaps accidentally—referred to her as "my Merrin" and she made a face and mimed punching him in the stomach for it. They live on the first floor and generally manage the property because they know the owner, which means Cal has all of his tools and his work bench in the garage for his various projects and Merrin tends to the garden out back, which grows a bunch of vegetables and strange plants that Din isn't convinced should be able to survive in this climate. He suspects she has a way with these things but has never bothered to ask about it.

"I'll take your word for it," Din says, reluctantly. "And I appreciate it."

"No problem," Cal replies. "Need any help?"

Din opens the door and starts unbuckling Grogu from his seat. "Uh, I think I'm alright, but thanks."

Cal leans slightly back, so as not to be in the way when Din gently lifts Grogu out of the car and tucks him over his shoulder. "Wow, you really tuckered him out, huh?"

"Yeah. We went to the fair, the, uh, Apple and Trout something or other...?"

Cal laughs. "Peach and Chowder Festival," he corrects. "I know it well."

"This is a strange town."

"I know that too. Looks like you did alright, though."

"Yeah," Din says, gingerly lifting the tail of the stuffed shark in acknowledgement. Another parent at the booth had claimed it was a knockoff of some famous trademarked shark but Din doesn't know about all that. He only knows it was the next best thing in Grogu's mind when there were no frog or lizard plushes to be won. "He's happy, at least."

Cal tips his head to the side, curiously. "You didn't enjoy yourself?"

"Ah, well, you know...crowds and lots of noise and kids all hopped up on sugar...that's not really my thing. But it's not about me, it's about him, so..."

"Yeah," Cal says, with a small smile. He puts a hand gently on Grogu's back. "Bet that makes it all worth it, huh?"

Din suddenly feels very stupid for never bothering to ask Cal or Merrin if they have kids. He’s never been great at that stuff, asking the right questions to really get to know people, and so he can only guess what their situation is. He thinks they're about his age, give or take a few years, and that means they're young enough that, if they had any children, he expects they'd still be living together, but he's not sure about that. They could have kids old enough to be living on their own, he supposes. And they've always been kind to Grogu, never once making a snide comment about him not talking much or needing his space sometimes, the way some other folks do. Sometimes, Cal will even let the kid hang out in the garage to watch him work, waving away Din's concerns about him being too much trouble by pointing to Beady, the cat that's almost always curled up around his neck or perched on his shoulder.

"If I can work with this one around," Cal's fond of saying, "your son's no bother."

Still, Din's not sure how exactly to ask that politely—if they have children of their own or not—especially if the answer is more complicated than a simple yes or no. And there is something complicated and sad about what Cal's expression is doing right now.

"Anyway," he says, cheerfully after a moment, and the expression is gone, tucked away somewhere. "I'll get out of your hair. Just wanted to offer some help if you needed it."

Din clears his throat, thinking about how his therapist is always talking about how he should get better at accepting the kindness other people offer him and also something about how his upbringing had convinced him there's some nobility in suffering needlessly. He probably can get Grogu inside and into bed without any assistance, but it would be easier with help. There had also been a discussion in therapy about depriving people of the satisfaction of showing their love for him by turning down their offers to be of service.

"Actually," he says, feeling foolishly nervous about something so small and seemingly easy, "if you could grab the door for me, that would be a huge help."

"Of course," Cal says, with an easy smile. "Happy to."

"And let’s just, uh, make sure we don't lose the shark,” Din says, as they make their way up the steps. “I don’t think I have it in me to win another one.”