#i miss her and she should have gotten more than one season

[this-geek]

I think I'd go with 3 and 12

Also can you imagine Liz, Jo and Sarah Jane meeting Clara and Bill? I would simply pass away

Pick 2 Doctors for a multi-doctor story, i'll go first (can you imagine the angst?)

[ladysharmaa]

Kate mini version

Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma x Sharma!sis

Summary: Y/n adapted to the Bridgerton family dynamic. However, she remains a little fearful and shy. Could the arrival of a prince change that?

part 1 part 2 part 3

Ever since Kate and Anthony assured Y/n that they wanted her to live with them, things had gotten better. The girl felt more comfortable with them, and appreciated the effort the couple made to show that she was always welcome. Riding horses for the three of them was an almost regular activity now, and these afternoons were Y/n's favorite.

Anthony had given her a beautiful black mare, which she insisted on learning to wash and comb, even though there were servants for that purpose. The man then spent the rest of the month teaching her how to ride, and this was something that brought her very close to Anthony, who she now considered like a brother.

The truth was, living with her older sister and her husband was wonderful. There was never a dull moment and she always had someone to talk to. Furthermore, the relationship between her and Kate was the strongest, and they were more inseparable than ever. Y/n's mother had agreed that her daughter would stay at Viscount's house for a while and thus extended her stay in India.

However, even though she was comfortable in that smaller core, she still felt shy around Anthony's siblings. She loved them all, and they always treated her equally, but in the back of her head there was always that thought that she was intruding.

Now, the Bridgerton family plus Y/n were on their way to the park to have a picnic. The season was starting again and suitors from all over the world were arriving to try to find someone. On the way there, Y/n entertained herself by listening to Eloise's grumbling that she would be entering the season again, even if the last thing she wanted was to find a husband.

Bridgerton had made a point of giving Y/n her feminist speech, and despite the eye rolls she received from some of her siblings, Y/n agreed with everything she said. However, she always wanted to be married to a man who truly loved her, and that wasn't going to change.

It was a sunny day, perfect for staying right by the lake and enjoying the delicious food that the maids had prepared. Anthony and Kate were in their own world, whispering to each other with gigantic smiles, Benedict and Collin were appreciating the ladies passing by, and Eloise was reading her book while Violet had met Lady Danbury and the two were chatting animatedly. Daphne and Simon hadn't arrived with their son yet, but Y/n couldn't wait to play with the baby again.

Meanwhile, she, Hyacinth, Gregory and Francesca were walking around the lake, picking up rocks and seeing who could throw them the furthest. Probably not the most etiquette thing they could do, but Violet and Anthony hadn't stopped them yet so they continued.

"I'm starting to get tired." Y/n grumbled, rolling the shoulder of her arm that was starting to feel sore from throwing so many rocks. "I think I'll sit down and get some sun."

"We'll be right there and keep you company then. I just need to beat Gregory first!" Hyacinth promised.

Y/n smiled towards the three, then heading towards the lawn where the others were. She momentarily looked down, seeing that she had gotten a little dirty on her dress when she went up against someone. The force of the impact had been so great that she lost her balance and began to fall backwards. However, this never happened because someone managed to grab her arms and pull her up again.

When she opened her eyes, having closed them in preparation for the fall, she saw a young man, around her age, looking worriedly at her. "Are you alright? My apologies, Miss, I was distracted and didn't see you."

"I'm okay." she said a little breathlessly. Their proximity didn't help either. "I'm the one who apologizes. I should be looking ahead instead of at my dress."

"It is a beautiful dress." he said, taking the opportunity to look her up and down, letting a small smile form on his lips. Y/n's cheeks immediately started to turn pinker. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss…"

"Sharma." Y/n smiled. "I'm sorry, I don't recall who you are."

"Prince Charles, the youngest son of Queen Charlotte and King George." he chuckled when he saw Y/n's wide eyes, who quickly made a small bow. "Please, that's not necessary. On top of that, I was the one who almost made you fall to the ground."

"My apologies, Prince Charles. I returned from India only a few months ago and it seems that I still don't know everything I should know. This mistake will not be repeated."

"It wasn't anything serious. To be honest, I'm actually glad you didn't immediately know who I was. I went against you because I was running away from an Earl's daughters who were begging me to marry them." A silence fell over them. "Who are you here with?"

"My sister and her husband's family. Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and Viscountess Kate Bridgerton." Y/n looked over his shoulder, seeing Anthony staring in her direction, more specifically at the Prince. He was about to get up when Kate pulled him down again, sending Y/n a smile and a wink. "They're looking at us right now."

"Of course, I know who they are. My mother loved the love story between them. Since then, she has only told my older siblings that she wants them to have something like that too. But they are not very interested in getting married, much to the Queen's disappointment."

Y/n just let out a small chuckle in response, not really knowing what to say. The proximity to the prince was becoming increasingly intimidating, and it didn't help that the entire Bridgerton family had noticed that interaction and were now observing discreetly.

"I apologize, Prince Charles, but I must return to my sister's family. We came to take advantage of this beautiful day to have a picnic."

"Of course, Miss Sharma. I hope to see you again soon." he nodded with his hands clasped behind his back. With a smile, he went back on his way while Y/n walked over to where Kate and Anthony were, her cheeks painted a light pink.

"What were you talking about?" Anthony questioned without being able to control himself any longer, his half-closed eyes still focused on the back of the boy walking in the distance.

Kate rolled her eyes at Anthony's exaggerated protectiveness, but the truth is that her heart started to beat faster when she saw how Anthony had so much care and affection for Y/n. It made her imagine how protective he would be of their daughters.

"Don't pay attention to Anthony, Y/n. The prince seemed very interested in talking to you. You should have gone for a walk together."

"Sister!" the younger girl exclaimed with wide eyes, becoming even more embarrassed. "He was just apologizing for going against me."

"That boy, prince or not, should look where he is going! Irresponsible, that's what he is!" Anthony continued to mumble, ignoring the look his wife sent him.

"Well, I am delighted that you made a new friend, Y/n. Now come sit with us for a while and drink some water, it's very hot."

"You're getting worse than mother." Y/n rolled her eyes in amusement. She added with a wink, "I guess it's a good training for the future."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"I do not want to go." Y/n stated, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Sister, we've already had this conversation." Kate repeated for the thousandth time, but still with the same patience as the first time. The older woman sighed, looking understandingly at her sister who was looking at the floor with a pout. "What are you really afraid of? It's your first ball, it's normal for you to be nervous."

Y/n was going to be subject to the season for the first time, where she could meet her future husband. Despite all the nerves she felt, she was happy to have Kate, Anthony, and the rest of the Bridgerton family with her. Furthermore, she would be in the same situation as Francesca, except that the latter had been named diamond of the season.

"How's mother and Edwina?" Y/n tried to change the subject, instead asking about the two other Sharmas who were in Prussia. Edwina was pregnant with her first child with Prince Friedrich and Mary had gone there, after a brief stop in England, to support Edwina.

"Y/n, don't change the subject. You can talk to me."

"What if no one asks me to dance, Kate?" Y/n finally revealed her fears shyly. She spoke so quietly that Kate had to strain to understand her words, but when she did her eyebrows furrowed in sadness. "You and Anthony took me in, what if now no one asks me to dance and I make you look bad?"

"First of all, you could never make us look bad and we would never be disappointed in you. I even think Anthony's biggest dream would be if you and Francesca didn't dance with anyone." Kate chuckled knowing how protective her husband was. "And I don't want you to be forced to dance with anyone. You can say no if someone invites you to dance and you don't want to. And if anything happens, call Anthony or his brothers."

"I will." the girl nodded, seeing her sister's serious look. "I hope everything goes well."

"Of course it will! And you won't be alone, we'll all be there in case you need anything. And who knows, maybe you'll see a certain prince. I heard the queen is going to make him participate in this season."

Y/n didn't respond to the teasing, she just continued to get ready with the help of the maids. When Anthony called them from downstairs, the two sisters hurried to meet him, seeing that the rest of the family was already there with the exception of Francesca.

When they saw her, a big smile appeared on everyone's faces, Violet going to give her a hug as soon as she reached the end of the stairs and Daphne holding her hand. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." she smiled at the women, and was later praised by Eloise, and the Bridgerton brothers.

Then, it was Francesca's turn to go down the stairs, catching their attention. After the compliments she received, the girl stood next to Y/n, the two holding hands as they walked to the carriages waiting for them.

"You look very beautiful, diamond of the season." Y/n said with a teasing smile, squeezing her hand in Francesca's in comfort.

"You do as well, Princess Sharma." Francesca giggled. To relieve the tension, the girl looked straight ahead at Anthony who was helping Kate into the carriage, his forehead dripping with sweat as he looked discreetly at the two teenagers. "I think my brother is going to pass out from how nervous he looks."

"Tonight promises to be quite interesting. At least he has my sister to control him a little, or I think he would be glaring at every suitor in the room, even if they didn't even want anything to do with us."

When they arrived at the Queen's castle, they were both amazed by the place. An orchestra played in the middle while some couples were already dancing, the space decorated with various details and chandeliers lighting up the room. When the Bridgerton family entered, everyone stopped to observe the diamond of the season, who was still clinging to Y/n.

To give her the focus of attention, Y/n tried to move away but Francesca just grabbed her hand tighter, sending her a look of fear. The Sharma girl nodded in understanding, then stood on Francesca's side, also being subjected to the curious looks of other people.

"Come on, girls." Anthony said, guiding the family to a corner while everyone analyzed the environment. He then turned to his two friends, who in his eyes were too young to be thinking about suitors, but he knew that this was the right age. "If you need anything, and I mean anything, go to one of us. We'll always be here to make sure you're okay. Now, all of you split up and socialize."

"They already look so nervous and you're going to scare them even more with your nerves." Benedict placed a hand on his older brother's shoulder. "Relax, brother. Go dance with your wife, we are also here to take care of them."

"I know." Anthony sighed, running a hand over his face. His tense muscles only relaxed when he felt Kate's hand caress his arm as she smiled understandingly. "Shall we dance, Viscountess Bridgerton?"

"We shall." she giggled, letting her husband guide her to the center of the room.

Meanwhile, Y/n watched the people at the ball nervously and curiously. They were all dressed to the nines, with the best fabrics and jewelry that showed the families' wealth and status. The Sharma smiled slightly when she noticed a girl being asked by a suitor. It was obvious that they were both nervous, but when he finally managed to ask the question, the girl blushed and accepted with a big smile.

Y/n sighed, turning her attention elsewhere. Her heart was beating heavily against her chest, wondering if she was going to experience the same situation as that girl.

A light touch on her shoulder made her snap out of her thoughts. Y/n turned to the side, her eyes widening when she saw Prince Charles standing there, both hands behind his back and a perfect smirk on his lips.

"Miss Sharma, what a pleasure to see you again."

"Prince Charles." she greeted, making a small bow. "This time I haven't forgotten my manners."

"I must say you look beautiful tonight." he praised, gently taking one of her delicate hands and bringing it to his lips, lightly kissing her skin. Y/n's cheeks immediately flushed, getting worse when she realized that they were attracting the attention of others. "Are you enjoying the ball?"

"Very much, thank you. The orchestra plays beautifully. It's lovely to see so many people dancing, especially my sister and Viscount Bridgerton. I have never seen them happier."

"Indeed. We could dance too… If you would like to, of course." Y/n didn't think she had ever seen the boy being shy, but she had to admit that it was really cute to see him like that.

"Are you sure? Many people are already looking at us… Including the Queen." she whispered the last part with a look of fear. "Are you supposed to find a lady to marry this year?"

"My mother hopes so, but she doesn't pressure me into anything. Right now, I just want to dance with you. Please? Don't pay attention to anyone else, just focus on me."

Y/n swallowed hard, but nodded, resting her hand on the arm Charles offered. The two walked to the dance floor as soon as the song ended, preparing for a new melody. The Sharma girl held her breath when she felt the boy's hand position itself on her waist, pulling her closer, while the other intertwined with hers.

The music started slowly and Y/n let the prince lead her, too nervous to even remember the choreography she had already practiced several times before. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kate and Anthony looking at them as they danced, giving nods of encouragement but still keeping their attention on them.

The rest of the people looked in shock, seeing the youngest son of the Queen and the King dancing with the sister of Viscountess Bridgerton who had caused a lot of talk last season. The Queen was also watching them, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"You're not just focusing on me." Charles hummed, squeezing her waist to show she was just joking. "And on top of that I'm a great dancer."

"My apologies. But I can't agree with the last part. I think —" but she couldn't finish her sentence as Charles picked her up and twirled her around several times until her laughter could be heard above the music.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" he laughed teasingly, loving the blush on her cheeks. He wanted to make her blush all the time, he loved the effect he had on the girl who was constantly on his mind since that day in the park.

"Prince Charles, this will certainly not be seen very well by other people. They are all whispering about us now! More than they already were."

"Call me Charles." He said, ignoring the rest of what Y/n said. His eyes were intense, studying the girl's face and stopping on her lips before moving up to her eyes.

"No."

"No?" he raised his eyebrows, as if he wasn't expecting that answer. Y/n stepped away from him, making a small bow. And only then did he realize that the song had already ended.

"I really enjoyed this dance, thank you. I hope to meet you again. We keep crossing paths so who knows?" she smiled, turning her back and walking towards Francesca who was alone in the corner, a drink in her hand.

Prince Charles definitely wanted to see Y/n Sharma again, his gaze following the girl's movements as if in a trance. Surely him standing in the middle of the dance floor looking at Y/n would be the main topic in the paper of Lady Whistledown.

[willowpains]

season 1 release

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

liked by madelyncline and other 462,611.

ynusername SEASON 1 OF OUTER BANKS IS OUT BABY!!! you don’t wanna miss it☀️🏴‍☠️🐚

see comments.

user1 I finished it in one sitting? it’s so good!

user2 is it worth it?

user3 so so so worth it, you should give it a try!

hichasestokes POGUES 4 LIFE

user4 latin representation? definitely gonna watch

madelyncline prettiest island girl

user5 wait I didn’t know she was latina!

user6 yuppp, I actually loved seeing they went into her mexican background in the show

user7 the fact she’s truly mexican born and raised, LOVE HER ALREADY

drewstarkey the orange sunglasses are fire

yourbestie SISISI la más orgullosa de ti<3

madisonbaileybabe second pic was an epic day!

user8 imma need Netflix to renew this show

obx WE LOVE OUR GIRL LUNA

user9 ok this show is so good I’m invested

user10 her character kinda has tension with rafe ngl

ynusername has posted on her story

madelyncline replied to your story

wait that film photo is amazing

you’re missing in it though:(

madisonbaileybabe replied to your story

omg that is literally your personality pic LMAO

drewstarkey replied to your story

learn how to swim

liked by jonathandavissofficial and other 3,568,901.

obx a little love for one of our favorite pogue princesses: LUNA🌙🥥🌺

see comments.

user11 LOVE HER

user12 she’s an absolute goddess

yourcousin mi personaje favoritoooo

user13 ugh I hate her character sm

user14 right like idk why everyone likes her

user15 y’all are just jealous

yourbestie obsesionada con ella

user16 DIOSA MEXICANA

ynusername amamos a luna<3

user17 without her the pogues would be lost

user18 fr she saved all their asses more than once

user19 and they would be so bored too

madisonbaileybabe pogue sister

user20 she has the funniest lines as well as jj, I was tearing up laughing at their fights

rudeth she knows what’s up

liked by austinnorth55 and other 763,820.

drewstarkey glad to know everyone’s enjoying obx, had to drop these bangers I took from behind the scenes📸 @ynusername

see comments.

hichasestokes that’s her 99% of the time

user21 LMAO she’s so me

ynusername no you didn’t

ynusername HOW DARE YOU

drewstarkey not my fault you fell asleep everywhere

user22 we love a pair of pretty besties

user23 damn filming must’ve been tiring

madelyncline I have some funny ones too, let’s share!

ynusername not you too

user24 how is she still pretty even drooling?

user25 wait she’s so relatable

madisonbaileybabe second pic is a mood

user26 omg I love you two on the show!

user27 I kinda ship them

user28 wait you might be onto something

jonathandavissofficial LOL

user29 I’m a y/n protector

user30 oh she’s my fave

liked by jonathandavissofficial and other 999,528.

ynusername tomfoolery by yours truly🫣

see comments.

user31 YES YES YES

user32 pls keep feeding us with content

madelyncline I’m the life of the party

user33 I love this cast so much, I wanna be their friend

user34 I know right? they look like they love each other

user35 I wanna party out with them tbh

drewstarkey I see you’ve gotten your revenge

ynusername I’m not done yet

user36 your honor I love them

user37 y/n thank you for your service ma’am

ynusername anytime🫡

rudeth paparazzi

user38 I cannot wait for them to announce a second season

obx our favorite people!

madisonbaileybabe truly iconic

user39 I can confidently say this is my new favorite show

user40 I’m addicted to outer banks I cannot stop rewatching

ynusername has posted on her story

hichasestokes replied to your story

a war has been declared

madelyncline replied to your story

LMAO

I love you

drewstarkey replied to your story

oh it’s ON

*

first social media post for latina actress universe!

I really wanna incorporate a little bit of everything sooo let me know if you like it but I kinda really love this<3

[starkwlkr]

mother (no, literally) | f1

I’m so happy you guys are loving this series 🫶🏼 this one has a bit of a time skip lol

part 1 part 2

“Did you hear the news?”

“What news?” Lando asked. It was the first race since coming back from summer break and Lando was excited. He had arrived a bit early so he could eat breakfast with his grid mom, but the mention of ‘news’ stopped him.

“Y/n is out of for the rest of the season. Porsche announced it yesterday.” His PR manager, Charlotte, told him.

“Who’s taking her seat?” He asked.

“Juan Manuel Correa.”

Lando stayed silent. He started to think of the worst possible scenarios. He knew she went to to Mykonos with Charlie for her break since she posted on Instagram and texted him that she got him several gifts. Did something happen on her vacation? He prayed that she was okay.

“Do you know if Adam is in the garage?” Lando asked.

“Yeah, he’s still there.”

And so Lando was off to the Porsche garage in search of their team principal. He definitely had the answers. After greeting the engineers, Lando spotted Adam talking with Juan Manuel Correa.

“Hey, man.” Lando greeted the older man. “Where’s Y/n?.”

Both Adam and Juan Manuel looked at Lando with a sorry look. “Did something happen to her? She didn’t text me anything about leaving Porsche.” Lando wanted the truth.

“She’s not leaving. She’s taking a break and don’t ask me for how long, I have no idea when she’ll be back, but for now we have Juan and I’m sure he’ll do an excellent job. Excuse us, we have to have a short meeting right now. Don’t worry, Lando, she’s not sick or injured. She’s fine, actually she’s more than fine.” Adam squeezed Lando’s shoulder as he passed by to get to his team.

“Do you know something?” Lando asked Juan.

“It’s not my place to tell.” Juan said then excused himself to follow his team principal.

Lando figured that if it was one thing bad then surely someone would tell him. But he received no answers.

TIME SKIP BROUGHT TO YOU BY MARK WEBBER’S DILFNESS

The F1 off season was here and Lando had plans. First, he needed to see his grid mother. It had been months since he last saw her and everytime he tried to make time to go see her, she wasn’t home. He found it odd, but at least she responded back to his messages.

Y/n was in her LA home with Charlie making dinner. She had found several recipes she wanted to try out. Her belly had grown, obviously, and she couldn’t hide it anymore. When she went out with Charlie, she would wear baggy clothes, but now those same baggy clothes couldn’t hide her bump.

“I’ve been thinking.” Y/n mentioned, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and eating it. “We never talked about godparents. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“I assumed Lando would be the obvious choice even if he doesn’t know about the baby.” Charlie replied, grabbing a strawberry and eating it.

“He was my first choice the second I found out. But I thought that you would choose one of your friends or costars from sons of anarchy.” Y/n stood up from her chair to check on the mac and cheese in the oven.

“If you think Lando should be our baby’s godfather then he should. He’s a great kid, babe. He’s technically your first kid.” Charlie teased.

“I miss my grid kids.”

The doorbell had rung meaning Lando had arrived. It was Charlie’s idea to have dinner with Lando to tell him the news. Well . . Once he noticed the big baby bump on Y/n, he would get an idea. While Charlie went to answer the door, Y/n got the mac and cheese out the oven.

Lando had gotten used to being around Charlie. Sure, he was a bit skeptical at first, but once he got to know the man, he knew that Charlie was the one for his grid mom.

“Hey, mate. How was your flight?” Cherie greeted Lando once he opened the door.

“Same as all the others. How are you and the missus?” Lando asked, bringing in his suitcase since he was going to stay with Y/n and Charlie for a couple of days.

“We’re great. Y/n was counting down the days until you got here. She’s in the kitchen. Babe? Lando’s here.” Charlie announced as him and Lando walked towards the kitchen.

The younger driver was stunned when he saw how much Y/n had changed. It it wasn’t a bad change, it was the best change. She smiled at Lando and walked to him to give him a hug.

“You’re pregnant! That’s amazing! Oh my god, you’re going to be an actual mum!” Lando gasped. “Is this why you’ve been hiding?”

“Pretty much. I didn’t want to make my pregnancy public until the birth. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. But it’s more than okay. Baby Hunnam is healthy and growing so fast.” Y/n explained.

“I’m happy for you. Wow, you’re going to be a mum.” He said it as if he couldn’t believe it. “Congratulations to both of you. Do you know the gender yet?”

“We decided to keep it a secret until the birth.” Charlie added.

“Well I think one thing is certain. Baby Hunnam is going to have a lot of overprotective uncles when they make their paddock debut.”

[barcaatthemoon]

passenger princess || mackenzie arnold x reader ||

sometimes, you wish that mackenzie would let you drive.

"come on, we're gonna be late!" you shouted at mackenzie. the two of you both had media to do, and mackenzie had taken all morning getting ready. you thought that she looked absolutely stunning, but you didn't want to get yelled at for missing your required media.

"your chariot awaits," mackenzie said as she opened the passenger's side door for you.

"mac, babe, i love you, but i think that i should drive today," you tried to tell her. it was really no use because mackenzie obviously didn't want to listen. she always got like this whenever you suggested driving the two of you somewhere.

you had grown up in the city, and while mackenzie had been there for a good amount of time, she wasn't a local. mackenzie didn't know all of the shortcuts and side roads that would cut your travel time down by a third. and so, the two of you truged into the training facilities about 10 minutes late.

"sorry boss, traffic was horrible." mackenzie was quick to diffuse your coach and the media team's ire towards the two of you. they didn't seem too annoyed with mackenzie, but that same courtesy wasn't extended towards you. mac was their world class goalkeeper, and you were just another midfielder that they had gotten cheap. you had come up with a team that had come up during a relegation swap. whenever they went right back down the next season, you had joined west ham instead.

"we could have gotten here sooner if someone would have let me drive," you said. a few of your teammates started snickering behind you, as did mackenzie. you turned to glare at all of them, but the look that you sent your girlfriend was a bit more hurt.

"don't take it personally babe, but you're just not the driving type. you look too pretty in my passenger's seat." mackenzie was trying to be sweet, but it didn't work. she placed her fingers underneath your chin to tilt it up and kiss you, but you turned your face at the last second. a chorus of 'ooo's rang out from your teammates as you stormed out of the locker room.

the media bit was a little intense after that. mackenzie had only been joking, and her attempt at an apology had been brushed off. she didn't mean to upset you. driving wasn't something that she thought would be such a big deal for the two of you. she just liked doing things for you, and since you were normally very independent, this was one of the few things she had the opportunity to even attempt.

"are you ready to go back home?" mackenzie asked as the two of you made your way towards the parking lot.

"i'm not going home with you tonight," you told her. mackenzie's face fell immediately at the news. you hadn't been back to your apartment in two months, having stayed at mackenzie's. your lease was going to be up soon, and your roommate was in talks with a new transfer about moving in. however, you still had a couple of weeks before that happened.

"no!" mackenzie shouted. you winced at the loudness in such a close proximity. mackenzie's face softened a bit as she grabbed you by the arm and tugged you towards the car. "you don't live there, you live with me. we always go home together, you know this. did what i say really upset you this much?"

"it's not just the passenger princess jokes, mac. it's also not just you. i don't want all the girls and the staff to think that i can't do anything for myself. you don't hear all the jokes and comments. i swear that some of them think i can't do anything for myself." mackenzie's face fell as she saw how genuinely worked up you were getting over this. it went a lot further than she had known, and suddenly, mackenzie felt absolutely terrible that you'd been holding in these feelings for so long by yourself.

"hey, (y/n), look at me." mackenzie grabbed your face and leaned in close enough for you to feel her breath against your cheek. "i am sorry for making you feel bad. i am sorry for letting things get so out of hand. i know that you're independent. hell, you do practically everything for me, and driving you around, it feels like the only thing i can offer to help you out. if you want to drive us back, you can, just please come home with me. i don't want to spend a single night without you if i don't have to."

"mac, baby?"

"yeah?" mackenzie seemed scared, as if you were going to tell her that you still wanted to go back to your own apartment. a night in with mackenzie, even whenever you were mad at her, was better than a night in with your roommate any day.

"take me home," you told her. mackenzie's shoulders sagged down a little with relief. you pressed a quick kiss to her lips and threaded your fingers with hers. the two of you walked through the parking lot together towards mackenzie's car. she got the door for you, absolutely beaming when you kissed her cheek in thanks. "can we stop by tesco's on the way home?"

"of course. i'll take you anywhere you want to go." mackenzie grabbed onto your hand and kissed the back of it. you let out a little giggle and settled back into your seat. there wasn't any tension in the car, which you were beyond grateful for.

mackenzie pushed the cart for you in the store, following as you walked around picking out seemingly random things. some of it was groceries that you had noticed earlier needed to be replenished, but quite a bit of the things you were buying weren't things that you normally bought at all. mackenzie didn't bring it up, assuming that it was for some sort of surprise at home.

"can i get some assistance from my favorite sous chef?" you asked mackenzie. she looked up from the couch to see you standing in the entryway of the kitchen holding an apron that you had bought her as a joke. mackenzie could cook, but she rarely did outside of using the grill every other weekend during the summer months.

"i don't know what you're making," mackenzie told you. you brushed it off and helped her into the apron. you gave very clear directions and within the hour, you had a homemade sauce simmering for a spaghetti night.

"how does it taste?" you watched nervously as mackenzie tasted a bit of the sauce.

"if football doesn't work out, you should open a restaurant," mackenzie told you. you moved to press a kiss to her cheek as thanks, unsurprised when mackenzie turned so your lips landed on hers. her hands grabbed at your waist, squeezing gently as she deepened the kiss. "better yet, i'll keep you on as my personal chef. and i can be your chauffeur if you'd like."

"sounds good to me. now, go set the table, the food is almost ready." you gave mackenzie a gentle shove away from you. mackenzie blew you a kiss as she carried the plates and silverware out to the dining room table. mackenzie sat excitedly at the table when you got out there, right next to the place that she set for you. she spent the whole meal practically just staring at you, often to the point of spilling a bit of her sauce on herself every other bite. it was ridiculous, but another reminder of why it was so easy to love mackenzie sometimes.

[noosayog]

gravitate ft. miya atsumu

wc: 2.2k part 2 of 2

part 1

contents/warnings: fwb dynamic, a lil bit of jealousyyy <3, angst to fluff, suggestive but sfw, she/her! reader, referred to as girlfriend, wife, reader has minor social anxiety

Atsumu thinks he did the right thing. 

It’s the truth after all, that even if he got a committed partner now, he wouldn’t be able to give them the time and attention they deserve. 

It’s the responsible thing to do. 

Never mind the fact that he’s fallen absolutely head over heels for you. It’s okay, though, because you had always seemed so on board with casual. At the end of the day, he’d only be hurting himself by getting more involved with you; you were the better one at drawing boundaries and saying goodbye.

Yet, after that night, he’s never been more grateful for a lull in the season, a brief break before the games begin again. He could dedicate time to practicing and conditioning and more importantly, no games meant no afterparties for him to give himself the wrong idea.

The idea that you might also have feelings for him. 

It’s wishful thinking right? He’s reading into the fact that you asked if he could wear his jersey right? Logically, he couldn’t stop you from wearing it, so why did you ask? Some roundabout way of asking if that would give all your friends the wrong idea? Of course it would. They would never miss out on a chance to clown him. 

All to say, the break in the season gives him some time away from you.

It’s all completely ironic though because all it does is gives him nothing but more time to think about you. The longer his runs are, the more time his brain has to drift to thoughts of you. At the gym, every rest interval between sets is spent remembering your smell, taste, sounds. And rest days, rest days were the worst. 

The time passes excruciatingly slowly and quickly at the same time until the season picks up and your unsaid meeting time comes around again. 

– 

A part of him had expected that you might not show up to the after-game party after what had gone down between the two of you. 

That’s if you even see what happened as note-worthy. 

So when you show up, laughing it up and enjoying yourself like nothing happened, he’s convinced that he did indeed make the right decision. This is and always has been casual to you, like what was agreed upon. It’s like a stab in the chest, but a foolish part of him thinks that means maybe the two of you will casually be drawn together at some point tonight and he’d be able to take you home and get the small piece of you he sees as his. 

But, damn, he had missed you. He can’t help the way his eyes drift to you every 5 minutes to see when he’ll finally be able to catch you alone. 

Typically, it wouldn’t take long, since he knows you tend to run low on social battery within a couple minutes of mingling. But tonight, you’re like a different person, talking and drinking all night. Every time he looks over at you, you’re a part of some circle of friends laughing like you’ve been friends forever. 

As the night drags on, Atsumu gets antsy, glancing over every other minute. He finally catches you when you break away from your group. 

“Hey,” he says, hoping he sounds significantly less – just less – than how he actually feels. “I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you all night, miss Popular.” 

You raise a brow at him. 

“I haven’t seen you talk to this many people ever,” he jokes. 

You give him a weak smile at that. “So you think catching me during my one and only break is gonna win you any favors?” 

He relaxes a bit at the quip. “My company should count as a break.” 

You laugh and he grins back. At long last, the sound he’d been wanting to hear all night. Not aimed at some stranger, not the forced robotic sounds he knows you offer out of politeness. He’s about to throw his arm around you and lead you to someplace quiet when you seem to catch the eye of someone you know. You wave them over and he suppresses a groan. 

How many more minutes until he can have you to himself? 

A girl he dimly recognizes from some other gatherings wanders over to the two of you and Atsumu’s eyes narrow a fraction when you take half a step back to let her get closer to him. 

“Atsumu, this is Yukie. Yuki, this is Atsumu.” 

“Hi! Nice to meet you!” She comes in for a hug and almost instinctively, Atsumu shifts his body to turn it into a side hug. He pats once at her shoulder before pulling away but she keeps her hold around his side for one second too long to be friendly. 

“Well then,” he hears you say. His gaze whips to you, like knows what you’re about to do and can’t believe you’re doing it. “I’ll leave you kids to talk alone. I need to take a bathroom break. Don’t have too much fun!” 

Don’t have too much fun? He mocks you in his mind. Could you make it any more obvious? 

Atsumu pries the hand from his side off, intent on chasing you but Yukie steps in his path, starting to chat up a storm, leaving Atsumu frustrated but trying not to be rude. Something akin to rage starts to fill up in his gut, clouding his brain with impatience to end this conversation already and find you to figure out the what fuck your intentions are here.

He finally got one moment, just one moment alone with you after weeks of nothing and you just pass it off to someone else like you don’t give a damn. 

It takes several reassurances that he’d be seeing her again at other mutual friends’ gatherings to break away, and he immediately weaves through the crowd to find you. Fuck subtlety and whatever cat-and-mouse bullshit the two of you used to play.

He half expects you to have gone home; he could feel the social exhaustion oozing out of you in waves even in the couple of minutes he did manage to get with you. So imagine Atsumu’s surprise when he does indeed find you still present, chatting up Tobio-kun of all people. Sure, being high school friends with Shoyo-kun means you had the same relationship with Tobio, but why the fuck do you have a hand on his shoulder, doubling over with laughter as if listening to Tobio’s jokes made your whole night of small talk worth it. 

The red hot feeling bubbles over, and before he knows what he’s doing, he stomps over to rip your arm off Tobio’s shoulder. 

“What? You just pawn me off to some other girl so you can go off and find someone else for tonight?” 

Tobio, bless his heart, with all his social ineptitude picks up the cues and makes himself scarce. 

You shake Atsumu’s searing grip from your wrist and put some space between you two, but he’s not having it. He steps even closer, backing you up until you hit the wall. Suddenly, the hallway seems too empty, too quiet. Atsumu doesn’t hear anything over the roaring in his ears anyway. 

You only look at him for a moment before closing your eyes and turning away. “What are you talking about, Atsumu? It's not that seri-” 

“It is and you fuckin’ know it.” 

“Atsumu, I don’t think this is the place to talk about this– ” 

“So come over to mine. Let’s talk.” 

“Atsumu…” 

“Please,” he’s damn near begging, one degree from being on his knees.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

He grabs your chin and forces you to look right into his eyes. “And why not? I think we both know something happened tonight that we need to talk about.” 

“Tonight?” you echo. You slap his hands away and shove at his chest, forcing him half a step back. “Something happened last time too and you didn’t seem to wanna talk about it then. Well, now it’s my turn to tell you. Nothing happened tonight, so there’s nothing to talk about.” 

His chest aches, so much so that he can’t get any words out as he processes what you’ve just said. So he didn’t do the right thing after all. 

The aching intensifies hearing you refer to whatever went down tonight between you two as “nothing.” 

He takes a deep, heavy inhale before eking out, “don’t say that, baby. I’m sorry. Can we please talk about this?” 

“I don’t want to. In fact, Atsumu, I don’t think we should-” see each other anymore. 

“No,” he cuts you off. “Whatever it is you’re about to say, my answer is no and that’s final.” 

“And what I want doesn’t matter?”

“It does! But I won't allow you to make that decision for us until we talk properly.” 

“I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you anymore.” 

“Just-” 

What should he say? What can he say? He’s running out of words to convince you and you’re not budging. It’s pure panic that arises in his throat when he watches you desperately try to pry his fingers off your wrist. 

He grips tighter. He has a feeling that if he gives up now, it would be that easy for you to venture beyond his reach. You’d never come to another one of these gatherings. Maybe he’d get a glimpse of you at a game against Tobio, you wearing an Adlers jersey with a #20 printed in the back and fuck- 

That’s such a terrible image, he almost feels like physically doubling over to soothe the stabbing jealousy in his chest. 

“I love you,” he utters out. 

“What?” 

His forehead comes down to rest on yours, pouring out his entire being into those three words again. “I love you.” 

“Atsumu! That is not casual!” you whisper urgently. 

He can’t help but laugh. It’s a mixture of relief that the confession has finally freed itself from the confines of his ribcage and at your alarmed but adorably frank comment. 

“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.” 

“So then… why did you… that night…” 

“That night, I was an idiot that didn’t realize how much I felt for you. I took for granted that I’d always be able to see you again like this and have you like I always have. But I don’t wanna live on hope or ‘next time’ anymore. I wanna know that I can and when I will see you again.” 

Foreheads still pressed against another, he leaves you with nowhere to run. You close your eyes. He does too. 

“So will you please come home with me so we can figure this out together?” 

Much like that very first night at the bar, you waver between going back out to the party or staying with him. He sees the indecision in your eyes and for those few moments, he walks on a tightrope and you hold the scissors. 

“Okay,” you whisper, so quiet it barely makes a sound. 

–

“Missed you so damn much.” 

“Atsumu, wait-” 

It’s immediate when his door swings open. Suddenly, you’re pressed against the wall and the door slams shut. Atsumu pushes closer one leg forcefully opening yours up and picking you up by the thighs. With nowhere to run, you wrap your legs around his waist and open up for Atumu to deepen the kiss. 

“Thought we were gonna talk,” he hears you say between breaths. 

“Later,” he rasps, kissing you harder and starting to rock his hips against you. “Missed you so fuckin’ much.” 

“Me too,” you admit quietly and that’s all you get to say before you succumb to his desperation. 

– 

“You know,” you say, much later that night as you rest your cheek on his chest. “You still owe me an explanation. Just ‘cause we slept together doesn’t mean I totally forgive you.” 

Atsumu considers making a quip about how you being here with him, drawing indiscernible patterns on his torso with your finger, wearing his clothes, sleeping in his bed, smelling like him is making it look pretty good for him, but he figures he flew way to close to the sun for today. 

“I know. And I promise we’ll talk more. No more dinin’ and dashin’ in the mornin’, yeah?” 

You consider this for a moment, before propping both arms on his chest and resting your head on your fists thoughtfully. 

He thinks it's the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“Just so I don’t misunderstand anything again-”

“You’re not misunderstanding anything, I promise.”

“I know, but I have to hear it.” 

“Will you be my wife?” 

“Atsumu!” 

“Okay, okay sorry. We’ll do that later then. Can we start with girlfriend?” 

“Hmm… I’ll need to think about it. Not sure how I feel about a guy who goes straight to home plate before he even takes me out to dinner.” 

“Y’know what, now that you mention it, I don’t know how I feel about a girl who goes home with a guy she just met-” 

“Shut up.” you snort and something’s definitely not right because every sound you make is the most adorable thing. He swears he’s got hearts in his eyes.

“And ‘Tsumu?” 

Lovestruck, he croons, “yeah, darlin’?” 

“I’d love to be your fiance.” 

“That’s my girl.”

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 90 (Under Pressure)

cw: a bit of coarse language from River, it's just his voice.

Light snow fell over Sable Square on this sunny winter morning, and Conrad tensed his shoulders as he opened the front door. But his best friend and future brother-in-law stood before him, and Conrad relaxed as he stepped out to greet him.

"Hey Riv. What are you doing here? We're gonna be in Henford in two days."

"I'm off for a few weeks with Cass and baby Sammy, but I wanted to talk when we weren't surrounded by family," River said. "Everyone's kinda worried about you, you know."

"Everything's fine. Work's just a little stressful right now."

"Yeah? Those security cameras are pretty intense. You've got that restraining order, and Hazel said you guys brought home a ghost from your date last night...?"

"He's not a ghost anym- Is there anything your family doesn't talk about with each other?"

"Not really, but you knew that already. Are my sister and her kids in some kind of danger?"

Conrad shook his head stiffly. "No."

River studied him. "That's good, because you know if you put a Landgraab in danger, that old bitch who hates my sister will probably have you killed."

He laughed a little but wasn't kidding, and Conrad shifted uncomfortably. "I've got to get to work soon, but come on in for a few minutes."

River followed him inside and greeted Gord with a smile. "You're also about to miss the deadline for our fantasy sportsball league."

"I completely forgot that was this week. I'm sorry. Maybe I should skip it this time around. My head's kind of jammed lately. I haven't even kept up on offseason trades."

"Dude, you're not okay at all. You're the first one in every season..."

"Riv, I just have a lot going on." He tried, but failed, to bottle his frustration with himself, but his reply came out terse and unwelcoming. If everyone could see his stress, he wasn't managing his secrets, but he didn't mean to take it out on River. "Sorry."

"It's alright...I brought the number for that ring designer you asked for, too." He paused, and Conrad didn't fill the silence. "You should go see Cass' mom. Every time she calls, she says how stressed you are. Cass thinks she talks like you're one of her kids, but that's Bella Goth for you - everyone's family to her. Besides, you and my sister have gotten into some real Goth-flavoured shit the last couple years, so it's no wonder she's started thinking of you like family."

Conrad laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe it's just a Brindleton Bay thing for everyone in town to pick up strays. How are you doing? How's Michael adjusting to having a new baby at home?"

"Michael loves Sammy, but he doesn't understand why the baby just stares at him so far."

"Ash was like that. Now Lavender tries babbling with him and he's a lot more interested. Seeing them together kinda makes me wish I had a sibling or two."

"Dude, you've got plenty these days." River stood from the sofa and tightened his scarf. "Listen, I'll get going. I told Cass I'd stop in to see her mother before I left town, myself. It'll be great to see you this weekend, and just...take it easy, okay? No case is more important than my sister and those kids."

"They're my entire world, man. If they're ever in danger, I'll do anything to keep them safe. Thank you for coming by, but I'm handling the stress. I swear to the Watcher."

River leaned in for a hug before they both left the house on Sable Square. He thought about their conversation the whole way to the precinct, about Heather's suspicions, needy Ximena, and angry old George Brindleton. By the time Conrad made it to work, he felt like his heart could explode from his chest.

He made a beeline for the break room and hit redial on the unlisted number he knew would be Ximena. This time, she picked up after only two rings.

"Conrad, do you need me?"

"Where's your brother?" He kept his voice low to ensure no one might overhear if they walked in the room.

"If I knew, I wouldn't have found you to ask for help."

"You found me before you said he went missing. What did you want then? Just me, right? Then what? Things start to go a little sideways with the cartel and you remember I said I'd help you if you ever left, the day I finally left you? But you never left, did you? When's the last time you worked for Los Tigres?"

"Four months ago."

"You and Jimmy, huh. How did it go?"

"It should have gone better!"

"Did they take your brother?"

"It's possible."

"Ximena, I can't do this. I can't help you. I've got kids. I'm not getting mixed up with you and that world again. When it might've been some degenerates trying to mess with the cartel, it was different."

"So you're just going to let them do whatever they want with him? Like they did with me before I took my future into my own hands?"

"You figured out how to beat the cartel at their own game once. If you're really against them and this isn't another lie, do it again for your brother. I'm not going to start investigating the cartel just because they've cut you out after too many bad deliveries." She stammered, and Conrad sighed. "Did you not think I'd read your file after you found me again? You don't even know that's who took Rafa."

"So you're really out? Even though it's Rafa." The sweet voice she put on for him had disappeared.

"Good luck, Ximena. I'm out."

He shook from a mix of anger and guilt when he hung up the phone and blocked her latest number. He was angry at her, but angrier at himself for letting it get this far. To never see her again wouldn't trouble him, but the mystery of Rafa's disappearance wouldn't be so easy to leave behind.

Yet River was right, as usual. He had to let it go. Heather and his family deserved his attention more than Ximena. More than Rafa.

He changed into shorts and a t-shirt and found one of the punching bags unoccupied in the upstairs gym. He funnelled a torrent of guilt and frustration through his gloves, pounding the leather bag at the end of his gloved fists.

For the rest of the day, Conrad stuck close to his desk to organize his case files. When 6p.m. hit, his head still clouded with stress, he clocked out and headed home.

But he remembered what River suggested and changed course, driving his cruiser across the bridge to Cavalier Cove, instead. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

Meanwhile, Ximena returned home and made herself a sandwich. Anyone recognize her apartment? 👀

[delusion-mostly]

Regina George x Reader

Part 2/32

Warnings: suggestive flirting, reader gets injured, lots of cussing, mention of pain medication

Word count: approx. 1,805

Part 1

The next day you see Regina at her lunch table. Even after last year she still sits with Cady, Karen, and Gretchen. She waves you over.

"What the fuck did I say about talking to me George? Especially after last nights words I REALLY am not interested in speaking with you." You whisper-yell at her.

"You didn't add me to that stupid group, I have no clue when things happen. Missed that detail didn't you sweetie." She gives you a condescending smile.

"Hm, call me sweetie one more damn time and your ass will be facedown in the ice. Got it George? When it comes to my sport you respect me or get the fuck out," you send a link to the group chat to her as you rant, and finally look up at her, "you know I was willing to be nice, and potentially be acquaintances this season, but after what you said? I was trying to help you and you had to be a bitch. Same old Regina."

You walk to your table with your teammates, Kendall and Mac, and slam your tray down. You don't know why, well, you do; but Regina filled you with a red hot hate. Worse than any other person you have ever met. Worse than the girls who took your state championship away from you, worse than your exes, worse than your bullies. Regina made you burn with anger, but damn did she look good with that condescending smile on her face.

She walks by your table, picking you up by the arm and drags you with her as she walks out of the room. You don't want to make a scene, so you don't fight it and instead walk next to her; besides, Regina on your arm made girls look at you. She pulls you into the nearest empty classroom and you yank yourself out of her arm.

"What the actual fuck." You swipe your letterman down.

"Y/N. I'm sorry. Okay? I lashed out. My back hurt, it was raining, I didn't like the way you treated me at practice. I have a lot on my plate. i didn't mean to yell at you," she sighs, you aren't convinced, "You were trying to be nice, I understand. I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I really am sorry."

"Oh it's never your fault, is it? The burn book was Cady's. Total bullshit by the way," you put your hands in the warm pockets of your wool letterman and pace, "and you lashing out was all your stress, and your pain, and I guess me?" You sarcastically laugh and throw your hands up, dragging the sides of your jacket up with you.

"Oh my god. No. I admit it. The burn book? Me. Me lashing out? Well, I should have kept that inside. I really didn't mean to. And I know why you were so mean, it's because I was mean first."

"Right on the money, Miss George. Now tell me, did we learn how to properly apologize in elementary school? Or do I need to teach you how to lace up skates AND apologize."

You sit on the teacher's desk, it squeaks under your weight. Regina turns bright red and looks like shes about to cry, she tilts her head down and fidgets with her sleeve. A tear streaks down her face, mascara rolling with it, and she swipes at it with her blue sleeve, leaving the spot a muddy blackish grey.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. For practically calling you a slut, saying you couldn't score points, AND for lashing out. I don't actually have that big of a problem with your sexuality." She gets out.

"Thank you. And I figured you didn't, it's just the first thing you notice to pick on me about. I'm not ready to accept your apology yet, or talk to you. But maybe, just maybe, we can learn to get along," the bell rings and you open the door to leave, "peace out George."

———

That night at practice Regina walks in almost the same time as you. You try to be civil by holding the door open, and she gives you a small smile as she walks through. You still hate her, but she has a nice smile. You walk down the steps leading into the locker room. You quickly change into your practice jersey, pants, and skates after putting on your gear, and you head on to the ice.

"Listen up ladies. We still have 2 months until our first game, but I am putting us on this ice early. Short practices for now, but it gives us more time to enhance our skills since we are playing the fall and spring season," you spoke, and the girls cheered, "so like yesterday, drills until 4:30 then everyone can go. Everyone knows Regina, she's our new manager. Leave your messes for her." You joke, and everyone starts skating laps.

For an hour you trade off teammates. 2/3 of the team will use half of the arena to skate down and backs, the left over 1/3 practices making shots while swapping out goalies. The clock lets out a loud buzz as it did last time, and everyone shoots their final shot and exits to the locker room, except you. You stay and keep skating around the pucks.

Regina laces her skates up and grabs the net that the pucks go in, then skates around the ice with the goal, collecting them all and stuffing them in. She leaves 5 pucks for you to keep shooting with. The click of the puck against the ice and walls as it bounces into the net made your brain happy, especially as Regina left you alone to go put away the others.

Regina suddenly hears a loud scream as she sets the puck bag into its spot and quickly hurries onto the ice to see you gripping your ankle tightly with your helmet thrown on the ground.

"Damnit I slid." You shout, ripping off your gloves and throwing them.

"What happened!?" Regina kneels beside you, concern laced in her voice.

"I was grabbing the net to collect the pucks, one wrong move and my skate got caught in the..." you started to yell, "damn net!"

"Where are your keys." Regina asked seriously.

"What do you mean 'where are my keys'? In my bag, why do you need my keys?" She begins to walk to the locker room, "Regina George, I may not like you but you better not leave me here!"

She rushes back up the steps, keys in hand, "I'm pulling your car up. You can't walk on this, let alone drive." And she exits

You set your head back on the ice, pain shooting through your leg. Maybe she really felt bad for what she had said, maybe this was her way of truly apologizing? Or had she actually changed and wanted to be helpful.

She rushes back in and helps you up to pull you off of the ice, you limp while putting most of your weight onto the blonde girl beside you. She puts you on a bench in the locker room, unlacing your skates and setting them in your locker. She reaches to pull down your pants.

"Woah! George this isn't what I thought you meant when you said you didn't have a big deal with my sexuality! Not the time!" You stop her.

"Don't flatter yourself captain. This is to get you into something more comfortable, and so you can fit in your own car. I don't have to but it would sure be easier." She looks at you sternly as you begrudgingly nod.

She pulls off the gaurds you have over your shins and then starts pulling off your pants, you look away and try to help as the awkwardness is unbearable. She opens up your locker and pulls out the grey sweats you had tucked away. She does the same with your jersey and a black tank top you had.

"I very easily could have gotten the jersey myself, George. Someone being nice today?" You playfully punch her arm.

"Don't be weird Y/N. Now get up. I'm taking you home." She helps lift you and wraps your arm around her, assisting you to your car.

She puts you in, gets in on the drivers side, and buckles herself, "where am I going, captain?"

"Where did that name come from?"

"Being captain of the hockey team is like, your one personality trait outside of being a massive player, Y/N." She chuckles.

You direct her to your house, which is nearly 20 minutes from the school. Aside from you telling her where to turn and the occasional groan in pain, the ride is rather quiet. It is incredibly awkward.

She pulls in to your driveway and helps you out, getting you to your front door and knocking. Your mom steps out, concerned, looking down at you holding your foot off of the ground.

"Y/N Y/L/N not again! Goodness. And you make this poor girl drive you home? Come in sweethearts come in!" She opens up the door and Regina guides you as you limp in, setting you on the couch and sitting beside you.

"This one is such a clutz. She did the exact same thing last year you know. Let me guess, skate in a net? We are still getting the prescription from that one! Oh goodness where are my manners," your mom holds out her hand to Regina, "I’m Patricia, but you can call me Pat. Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Oh no ma'am I have to start my walk home, thank you though!" Regina awkwardly declines.

"Oh nonsense! Y/N can't drive right now and I have to pick up her pain medication so why don't you just stay the night! It has been so long since she has had any friends over aside from Kendall." Your mom continues. You hope she shuts up.

"You know, Pat, that sounds wonderful," Regina smiles and looks over at you, her look growing more spiteful, "I will call my mother right now, you have a very safe drive to the pharmacy and I truly thank you for opening your home!" She gets up to call her mom.

Your mom kisses you on the forehead and exits into the garage. You hear the mechanical whir open, then shut. The couch dips beside you.

"Now you have to listen," Regina looks at you, "Can we please talk about my apology?"

You certainly did not want to accept the apology, but you couldn't run away from it now.

Well. Shit.

Part 3

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

wednesday's sister's wedding to xavier? Bet it would be so goth and cute. Enid can be the wedding planner? She would LOVE that

Request: anything with Xavier please. I hate that he won't be in the next season

This has been sitting in my drafts for months. I was trying to achieve perfection and put my whole vision into words. I hope you'll enjoy it <3

Warnings: family drama, father/son issues

—

‘’I always knew you were going to be the first of our children to marry. Pugsley is more interested in pyromancy than girls, and your dear sister... I tried talking to her about the possibilities of, someday, settling with Enid, but she could have stabbed me with the knives in her eyes.’’

You laughed softly. Classic Wednesday. 

Morticia fixed your veil, looking at you with a proud smile. ‘’You look just like me at your father and I’s wedding.’’ She paused, reminiscing. ‘’We married young too. I knew since the first time we met that he was the one.’’ 

Your dress was hauntingly beautiful — black, of course, with a long train. The kind you would like to be buried in at your funeral. You couldn’t wait to see Xavier’s reaction when he’ll see you. 

You glanced down at the ring on your hand, and sighed. ‘’How long until the ceremony, Mother?’’ you asked, the time seeming to have gotten slower since you woke. You couldn’t wait to get this wedding over with and be married. To — finally — call Xavier your husband. 

The wedding preparations had started very early this morning. Enid had been awake since the crack of dawn, making phone calls, directing people and making sure everything was going accordingly. She was the perfect wedding planner. She used to be part of the Rave’N organizing committee at Nevermore, so you knew your wedding was in good hands. 

‘’Missing the boy already? Ah, young love…’’ Morticia said, catching the longing in your gaze. ‘’Your father and I too had difficulty being apart for the first…decade.’’ 

If only she knew where you had been a couple of hours ago.

Dressed in your black robe and bare faced, you wandered through the secret passages of the Addams manor to meet with your soon-to-be husband. According to most traditions, it was bad luck to see each other before the ceremony on your wedding day, but you and Xavier didn’t care. You knew you'd be together until the grave — and even longer still. 

Since the rise of the dawn, Xavier had been cooped up on the other side of the manor with your father, Pugsley and Mr. Thorpe, who surprisingly made time in his busy schedule to attend. You and Xavier had been both surprised when his RSVP envelope came in, confirming his presence. The man had a tendency of upsetting Xavier, so you asked Thing to look out for him and come to you if anything happened. 

‘’I don’t know how long we have until someone realizes we are missing,’’ you said, looking at Xavier in the glow of your candle light. Even in sweatpants and a tee shirt, he managed to look handsome. 

He leaned down for a kiss, careful not to burn his hair with the candle.  

‘’How are things with your father?’’ 

Xavier pursed his lips, his face crisped. ‘’I'm afraid nothing has changed with my father. He seems more disappointed than ever before because I chose to propose to you without his approval. I think he is more preoccupied by how the media will take the news and how it will affect his image. Because not even his son’s happiness come before his career…’’ 

You took Xavier’s hand, knowing his father’s words had upset him, pulling him out of his head. ‘’If, at any time, you want him to leave, say and I will have him removed. I know he’s your father, but it’s our wedding day. We should spend it with the people we love, not the ones who upset us.’’ 

He forced a smile, not wanting to deal with the public drama of kicking his father out. Although there won’t be press at the wedding, all of the Addams clan was present and he’d rather not embarrass himself in front of his new relatives. ‘’It’ll be fine.’’ 

The ceremony was hauntingly beautiful. Your father shed a tear, and Thing didn’t drop any of the rings on his way to the altar. 

You couldn’t stop staring at Xavier, looking torturously handsome in his dark suit and his hair pulled back — your favorite on him. It made his green eyes stand out.  

Uncle Itt, who was officiating the marriage, motioned for Xavier to speak his vows. 

Xavier pulled a neatly written paper from his pocket, and began reading. He practiced his speech for hours last night — and this morning —, but he was so nervous he was afraid to miss a word. ‘’From the day that I met you, I knew I would follow you to the grave," he began, his eyes flicking up to yours. ‘’We were only seven years old, but I knew our souls were destined to be together. Ten years later, you showed up at Nevermore and my heart fell right into your webs. You became my sanctuary in times of darkness. You saw me at my lowest point yet still gave me your love and your unwavering loyalty. And on this day, with every whispered vow, I surrender my heart to you, my deadly nightshade.’’

The guests were enraptured by his words, his love for you evident in every syllable he uttered. Xavier poured his heart and soul into the words, your eyes gleaming with adoration as you listened. 

Life had not always been kind to him these last years, but your hand remained in his through everything. When he was accused of being the hyde, accused of murdering all these people, you were the only one who believed him when he said he was not the monster. The weight of everything made you doubt if you were doing the right thing by staying with Xavier. Always follow your heart, it’ll put you on the right path, your mother had told you through your crystal ball when you had called her in tears. 

But like at any weddings, something was bound to cause a hint of drama, and, as expected, that thing was Xavier’s father.

Mr. Thorpe had discovered that Xavier had used his mother's ring to propose to you, an Addams. His late wife’s ring, now on the finger of an Addams, was too much for him to bear. He kept his disapproval in check throughout the ceremony, but waited until the end to confront his son, taking him away from the wedding guests to talk of the matter.

You weren’t supposed to hear them, but you happened to be on a walk around the cemetery with your father, saying hello to your ancestors, when you heard a hushed argument by the border of the woods. You exchanged a concerned glance with your father. The Addams were known to start little fights at family events, but you had a gut feeling that you needed to follow the voices. 

‘’—Mom passed it to me. It's for me to decide what I do with it and who I give it to.’’

You recognized Xavier’s voice as you got closer, making you regret dismissing Thing from his spying duty for the rest of the night. 

‘’I bought this ring with my money, Xavier. I don't want an Addams wearing it. It’s a disgrace.’’ 

‘’I’m an Addams too now.’’ 

Hurrying through the cemetery, you reached the border of the woods and stepped in, your father coming right behind you. ‘’Is there a problem here?’’ you asked, your voice steady and clear as your eyes fell on your husband and his father. 

Xavier released a silent breath of relief when he saw you. You were never afraid to speak your mind and stand your ground to his father, always advocating for him when he needed you. 

Mr. Thorpe turned, his face a mix of surprise and indignation. ‘’Leave us. This is a private matter,’’ he snapped, unhappy to have a small crowd around him. 

‘’It’s not a private matter when it involves my wife, father,’’ Xavier said.

You felt spiders in your stomach when he called you that. His wife. 

Gomez stepped forward, his presence imposing. ‘’I heard the way you spoke of my daughter, Mr. Thorpe, and I will not tolerate that. Whether you like it or not, she is your daughter-in-law. She is part of your family…as you and Xavier are of mine.’’

Mr. Thorpe’s eyes narrowed as your father spoke. He didn’t like being called out on his behavior, especially by Gomez Addams, a man he viewed as beneath him. ‘’Your daughter was given a ring that does not belong to her. I simply wish to have it back.’’ 

Instinctively, you hid your hand behind your back. ‘’You speak as if I stole it. Xavier’s mother gave it to him as she was fading. You may have paid for it, but the ring does not belong to you anymore.’’ 

‘’Give it back to me!’’ Mr. Thorpe came at you, but your father intercepted him before he could put a hand on you. 

‘’Not a step closer!’’ 

Xavier rushed over to you, taking your hand — the one with the ring — and holding it close to him. He won’t let his father take it from you. 

Mr. Thorpe opened his mouth to speak but Gomez cut him off, his eyes fixed on him. ‘’I have tried to reason, but I fear you have gone too far now. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, Mr. Thorpe. You are disrupting this wedding and I will not allow it. Not on my property!’’ 

He looked stunned by the request, as if he had never been asked to leave a place before. He probably hasn’t. ‘’You can't kick me out! I'm the father of the groom!’’ 

Gomez's expression darken. ‘’I can and I will.’’

Mr. Thorpe turned to his son, begging for his help although he put himself in this situation. ‘’Xavier, you can’t let him kick me out.’’ 

In response, your husband turned his gaze away from his father, his expression tightening. ‘’The Addams have been more of a family to me than you ever were,’’ he said quietly. ‘’I...I don’t need you here.’’

—

Wednesday taglist:  @partyfly @hoodforcalum  @achoo---uu @not-leaprvt @xaviersgf  @dragon-chica  @wrldofsage @eddiemunsonsluvrrr @capriaura @officialsaturn  @kelloggs-world @whosljt @ajpanda181 @belovedrey @emerycrt @elizabitchsshit  @lilithlikestoread @est-liber @moonisu @dessxoxsworld  @bellblake121890 @kaldurahms-lover  @nephilimsss  @sweetheartlizzie07 @watermelon-18 @snixx2088 @555stargirl555 @robinscardigan @chumchum19 @lilttblog @aphex2winn @heizenka @mystargirl-interlude @hwrtsiren @babygirljay20  @strangersomeone @charlottelaffin @iheartmaddyperez @starless-starkov @ali-r3n  @poppet05  @ell0ra-br3kk3r  @rhaenyraswife  @teaganthemorningstar  @oliviah-25 @spenglerslime @wetwilliam02 @yellowcupcakes @haileyismoo  @wrldofsage @manofworm @supersanelyromantic  @toylewestinnyc @meme-queen-1999 @rottenstyx @mxxny-lupin @idli-dosa

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[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

Vi and her Counterpart’s Violence

Okay so as soon as I saw this scene in s2e3, I was immediately reminded of this scene in s1e6

Vi sees someone she loves, someone she perceives as innocent and in dire need of protection, being so comfortable with violence. She doesn’t have a problem with violence, if anything she uses it as a tool, but she has a problem with certain other people doing the same. Why should they be so violent when she has it handled? When she is meant to be the violent one, shielding them from getting to that level?

Caitlyn and Jinx are never beating the mirror allegations

In both scenes, Vi calls out her counterpart’s name multiple times. But, of course, instead of calling Jinx by her chosen name, she calls her Powder. And instead of calling Caitlyn by her given name, she calls her Cait. ‘Jinx’ represents Vi’s greatest failure, the opposite of who Powder is meant to be, while ‘Caitlyn’ seems represent privilege and power, the two major things enabling Caitlyn to act in such an opposite way to how she’s ‘meant’ to. ‘Caitlyn’ is who everyone else knows. They know Caitlyn Kiramman. Vi knows Cait. Vi knows her Cupcake. (Still a little confused on why we haven’t heard that at all this season?)

Violence is Vi’s. It’s hers because she refuses for it to be her counterpart’s. Of course, we’ve said this a million times: Vi is a protector first and foremost. A protector fails when their protectee is exposed to the weight on the protector’s shoulders. Vi was never meant to be innocent and she never seems to resent that, all she does is take it as a challenge that has no failing option.

In both seasons, Vi was pulled away from the situation and everything was interrupted. But, at least in s2, she got to talk to Caitlyn after. The problem is that there was such an obvious disconnect. It doesn’t matter if there was a kid, Caitlyn would have gotten the shot. It doesn’t matter if Caitlyn would have gotten the shot, there was a kid. (Although, I do think this whole kid thing is interesting after seeing how Vi feels about collateral damage when Jayce killed that Chembaron’s child. Maybe after seeing the council explosion, Caitlyn’s grief and that same Chembaron plan a terrorist attack, she’s changed her mind?)

Vi gets to view violence as a necessity. Vi gets to choose when violence is right or wrong, not who she’s supposed to be protecting. Vi gets to find comfort in violence, not who she’s supposed to be protecting.

Vi begging Caitlyn not to change isn’t just about everyone else in her life changing, it’s about forcing her own position to change as well when she finds so much comfort in it.

Anyway, I just think the parallels between these scenes are pretty cool and also getting to see Vi on the receiving end of violence from who she’s meant to be protecting is so interesting. I do wish the parallels were hammered home a little bit more because the scene in s1, you could really see it in Vi’s face and hear it in her voice how fearful she was of seeing Powder like that throughout the whole scene, while the fight scene felt a little short and the argument after left me wanting a bit more! Even tho I did appreciate the intensity of Caitlyn saying Jinx’s blood is in Vi’s veins and Vi saying Caitlyn is the one acting like her and all Caitlyn can respond with is violence, further proving Vi’s point and hurting her even more. I appreciate it all, but I hate to say that it feels like it’s missing something! I think what I wanted to hear from Vi was more than ‘It’s a kid!’ I wanted Vi to try to wake Caitlyn up, cry to her about her and Powder’s childhood’s, throw Caitlyn’s argument about ‘the cycle of violence’ back at her. But we didn’t get that.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 10: People Might Think You Care About Me

You and Joel spend the holidays together. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 9, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Again, I'm here begging HBO to give me something to use for young Joel PLZ

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mention of dieting and diet culture. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.8K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“I can’t believe my kid is going to like you better than me,” Joel said, sitting in the middle of the living room floor with a roll of wrapping paper spread out in front of him. “Scissors.” 

You handed them over before grabbing the tape, putting a piece on the tip of your finger before folding the paper around the box - a friendship bracelet kit - that you were wrapping for Sarah. 

“I mean, first of all, your kid already likes me more than she likes you,” you teased, turning the box to do the other side. “She has good taste…” 

“You’re the worst.” 

“Second,” you said, ignoring him. “It is a joint gift, you’re getting tons of cool dad points out of this.” 

“She’s gonna know it was your idea,” he said, adjusting the gift he was wrapping. “Hell, she’s gonna know that only one of us could have gotten tickets and it ain’t me.”

As if on cue, Swiftie - Sarah’s kitten - pounced on the box Joel was wrapping. 

“Yeah, this one knows, too,” he said, scooping her up with one large hand and setting her down. “I miss when she wanted Barbies. Shit was easier.” 

You laughed. 

“Be happy she’s excited about anything enough that she’s going to freak out over Taylor Swift tickets,” you said. “She’s about to be a disaffected teenager, enjoy it while it lasts.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he muttered, “She’s stubborn enough as it is.” 

“You’re in for it, Miller,” you said as your cat, Puck, climbed on your lap. You reached around him to finish taping the package you were wrapping. “She’s going to give you so much shit…” 

“What if she’s just like you, hm?” Joel teased. “Gonna have a nerd for a kid…” 

“Hey, I was a nerd who snuck out at night to go get drunk with the boneheaded jock,” you teased back. “You really want her to be just like me?” 

“Jesus, you’re right,” Joel shook his head, finishing wrapping his present. “I’ll have to keep her far away from anyone like me for the sake of us all.” 

You snorted and finished wrapping your own gift before scooping Puck into your arms, nuzzling into his fur and giving him a kiss on the head before settling with your back against your couch as you looked at the lights on the tree.

It was Christmas Eve, the first one in years you were spending without Gale and you’d never been more thankful for Joel. 

Last year, you and Gale were separated but you’d felt so alone that you’d texted him the afternoon of Christmas Eve and spent most of the night and next day in bed. You’d tricked yourself then, pretended there was a chance in hell of the two of you getting back together and things going back to the way they used to be. 

That hadn’t happened. You’d spent New Year’s Eve in bed, too. Except that time, you were alone. 

You’d been afraid that was going to happen for you this holiday season, too. You asked Anna what she had planned for Christmas, fully expecting her to want to spend the day together. She had other things in mind. 

“Honestly, ever since Mom died?” She’d shrugged. “I love using it as a day to just chill. Binge watch TV I’ve been meaning to catch up on, eat a pile of Chinese food, maybe take a bath… It’s pretty boring but I love it. And since I’ve got this little bundle on the way, I’m extra looking forward to it this year.” 

“Oh,” you forced a smile, trying to hide your disappointment. “No, that sounds great.” 

“Oh God,” she clamped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide for a moment. “Did you want to do something? I’m so sorry, I should have…” 

“”No,” you waved her off quickly. “No, you’re good! I don’t want to disrupt your plans…” 

“You can join if you want!” She said. “I mean, for everything but the bath part, that might be a little much now that we’re not kids anymore.” 

“No,” you said again. “You have fun! Tradition is tradition and you need the break. Maybe I’ll do the same.” 

You should have known that she would have her own way of doing things. You’d all but abandoned her during your marriage, sending perfunctory text messages and holiday cards and flying her up for a long weekend every year or so but, otherwise, you went weeks without talking. Of course she had Christmas plans that didn’t involve you. Why would she have any that did? 

Joel, however, had done what he’d always done since you’d moved back to Texas: Made room for you in his life. 

“Know you and Anna probably already got plans but,” he’d shrugged two weeks earlier. “If you don’t… want to spend Christmas with me n’Sarah? Tommy, too, assuming he doesn’t con his way into dinner at some girl’s house. S’OK if you don’t, just figured… I dunno…” 

You’d smiled, bigger than you’d really meant to. 

“You want me to spend Christmas with you?” 

“I want you to spend most days with me,” he shrugged. “But you know, we gotta go out in the world and make money and shit. Anyway, Christmas. You in? Could just move in until the New Year if you really wanted…” 

The last part wasn’t going to work with your obligation to go try to write a book once Christmas was through. But you had spent the last two nights at Joel’s, bringing Puck over to play with Sarah and Swiftie as the three of you watched Christmas movies and binged cookies. No papers to grade, no lawyers calling because your attorneys’ offices were closed, no pressure because you already had time set aside to write. You could really relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity and relaxing with Joel and Sarah was quickly becoming your favorite thing in the entire world. 

But all that relaxing had meant there was a small pile of presents that weren’t wrapped that needed to make it under the tree. It was Christmas Eve and time had run out. 

“You need to stop procrastinating,” you said, getting your egg nog that was now mostly liquor off the coffee table and taking a sip. “Can’t get away with that shit when you’re a business owner.” 

“Just watch me,” he teased. “Besides, you’re one to talk, you made any progress on that book?” 

“That’s what next week is for,” you said, giving the cat a kiss just as he started to get restless in your arms. You set him down. “Fingers crossed having nothing else to do will make me churn out the words.” 

“Wild to me that you make money from what’s in your head,” Joel came and sat next to you. “Not that I think you shouldn’t, if anyone should it’s you. Just that anyone does at all is insane.” 

“Well, I may not make money off it for long if I can’t write anything else,” you sighed. “Know what? Let’s not talk about next week. I want to live in this moment - the one where we don’t have any worries and the presents are all under the tree and Sarah is passed out - for a while longer yet.” 

Joel hummed in agreement and you leaned your head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. You could smell his skin and cologne and there was still a little bacon scent from when he’d made breakfast for the three of you that morning. 

“Think she’ll have a good Christmas?” Joel asked quietly, the two of you watching the lights twinkle on his tree. 

“Hell yeah,” you smiled a little. “You really are an amazing Dad, Joel.” 

He scoffed. 

“I’m serious,” you peered up at him. “You’re lucky to have Sarah but she’s lucky as hell to have you, too. She’s going to love it.” 

“Speaking of parents… anything new in the Anna situation?” Joel asked cautiously. 

“It’s a girl,” you sighed. “But she seems to be keeping up with everything, thank God. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe this is the kick in the ass she’s been needing…” 

“Was for me,” Joel shrugged, making your head rise with his shoulder. 

You sighed again. 

“Just seems like an awful lot to put on a kid,” you said. “And you might have been young and dumb but you didn’t have the shit Anna’s got on her plate. It’s a bit of a different story with her.” 

“She might surprise you. But either way, we’ll make up a room for the little sucker here,” Joel said. “Just to be safe.” 

“Regardless, that’s next year Goldie and Joel’s problem,” you said. “And thank fuck for that.” 

“Yeah, fuck those two,” you could hear the smile on Joel’s voice. “Let’s put the wrapping paper away and go to bed, something about Santa and knowing when you’re sleeping and all that.”

You cleaned up the living room and tried not to pay attention to the nighttime routine you’d fallen into with Joel in the few days you’d been staying with him. You had your own sink in Joel’s bathroom, one that had your hair products and face wash lined up alongside it. You had your own side of the bed with your own nightstand where the book you’d been reading the last few days was nearing its end and waiting for you. If you thought about it too much, you’d miss it when it was gone. If you thought about it too much, it might seem like something you could keep.

Joel made his customary space at his side and you nestled into him, your head on his chest where you could hear his heart beat. His fingers trailed up and down your arm. 

“There are upsides to a kid, you know,” he said quietly. “Christmas morning is one of ‘em. Just wait.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Stop keeping me awake and we won’t have to wait long,” you said. 

Joel snorted. 

“Yeah yeah. Night Goldie.” 

“Night Joel.” 

Sarah came careening into Joel’s room before 7 a.m., slamming into the bed so hard that it made your teeth rattle. 

“Dad! Aunt Goldie!” She shook you both. “Wake up, it’s Christmas!” 

“Yeah, alright,” Joel groaned, taking his warm arm from its place around your shoulders. You groaned, too. “You stay here with Goldie while I go put the coffee pot on and get set up to record you…” 

Sarah groaned. 

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously,” he said. “Sit tight, five minutes.” 

You rolled onto your back and blinked the sleep from your eyes, Sarah bouncing impatiently on the bed. You lifted your head enough to look at her, curls sticking every which way, and you dropped back down onto the pillow with a groan. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, kid,” you said. 

“Yeah, that’s what my dad says,” she said cheerfully and you could picture her smile as she did. 

“Alright, come on out,” Joel called from the living room. Sarah rocketed off the bed and you laughed as you got up yourself, trailing behind her and trying not to yawn. 

“Oh cool!” Sarah flopped down beside her stocking and started going through it as you got to the living room. Joel was sitting on the couch, his phone set up on a tripod in the corner and pointed at the tree. “These are those face mask things I said I wanted! And the headbands for soccer!” 

“I do pay attention now and then, baby girl,” Joel said, rubbing his eyes. 

“Don’t you mean Santa pays attention?” You asked, sitting next to him on the couch. Joel handed you a cup of coffee, made exactly how you liked it.

“I know Santa’s not real, Aunt Goldie,” Sarah rolled her eyes and gave you a look. “I’m 11, not a kid.” 

Joel snorted. 

“Sorry,” you said. “My mistake.” 

“Don’t spoil Santa for Goldie,” Joel said before reaching down on the ground next to him. “Speaking of which…” 

He handed you a fat stocking and you frowned a little as you took it. 

“You made me a stocking?” You asked, tears pinching at your throat. “No one’s made me a stocking since I was in high school…” 

“Then you’re real overdue,” he smiled a little and went back to watching Sarah as she unwrapped a chocolate Santa and stuffed the entire thing in her mouth. “Alright, let’s not eat all the candy in one sitting…” 

“But it’s Christmas!” She said, voice muffled around the chocolate. 

“Still gonna get sick,” he replied. 

You started unpacking the stocking, pulling two pairs of fuzzy socks out of the top. 

“Because your feet are always freezing,” he said, looking back at you. “Figured one pair for here, one for your house…” 

“Thank you,” you smiled, going back into the stocking. There was some of your favorite candy, one of the face masks Sarah had, a bottle of gold nail polish. 

“We can do a spa day!” She beamed. 

“We can,” you laughed, looking at Joel who just shrugged, a small smile on his face. 

At the bottom of the stocking was a chunky gold pen, thick plastic encasing glitter and you turned it over in your fingers, frowning for a moment at just how familiar it felt. 

“Saw one like the one you had when we were kids years ago,” Joel said. “Bought it on a whim, thought you might want it.” 

You wanted to say thank you but you couldn’t seem to make a sound, the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just threw your arms around his neck and he laughed a little when he caught you, his hand sliding over your side and around to your back. 

You stayed close to Joel and watched as Sarah tore through her presents, the envelope with the concert tickets safely in Joel’s possession. 

“Hey Sarah,” you said eventually. “Can you hand me that box under there that’s for your dad?” 

Joel frowned as Sarah got the box, setting it on the coffee table in front of Joel and hovering as he went to open it. 

“Didn’t need to get me anything,” he said. 

“Too damn bad,” you said. “Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing crazy.” 

He opened it. Inside were two shot glasses, leather wrapped with a monogrammed M burned into it. 

“I thought you needed some accessories for the flask,” you smiled. 

He laughed. 

“We gotta break these in,” he said, looking them over. “They even look like they match…” 

“May have gotten Tommy to send me pictures,” you said. “Keep going, one more thing in there.” 

He shifted the tissue paper before pulling out a cassette tape, frowning at it for a moment. 

“What…” 

“I know your stereo is old enough that it plays tapes,” you said, palm out. “Hand it over.” 

He laughed once but obeyed and you went to put the tape in, adjusting the volume so it wouldn’t be too loud. It crackled a bit at the start and then Joel’s voice - almost 20 years younger but still so familiar - filled the room.

“My name is Joel Miller,” he said. “I play guitar and sing, mostly rock, little country…” 

Joel gaped at the stereo before looking to you. 

“Is this that old demo tape we made when we were kids?” He asked. You laughed and nodded. “Holy… where the hell’d you find this thing?” 

“I kept one,” you shrugged. “Thought it might give you a nudge toward playing again.” 

The Joel on tape started playing and Sarah came and sat between the two of you on the couch, looking up at her dad. 

“So that’s you?” She asked. 

“Sure is,” he said. “Long time ago, I was closer to your age then than mine now.” 

“What’s it for?” She asked. 

“Well,” Joel looked over her head to you and smiled a little before looking back at his daughter. “I always liked playing, wanted to be a singer for a while. Goldie here talked me into making some demo tapes to give to places around here that had open mic nights so I could actually play for people. Worked, too. Had a few places I played pretty often for a bit in there thanks to that tape.” 

“Why’d you stop?” She frowned. “You were good.” 

Joel shrugged. 

“Bigger things to do,” he kissed the top of her head. “Though speaking of music… think there might be one more thing for you under the tree.” 

Sarah’s frown deepened and she went to look around, picking her way through wrapping paper and but not finding it. 

“There’s nothing over here, Dad,” she said. “Are you sure?” 

“Oh, right,” Joel said, giving you a wink and pulling the envelope out of the pocket of his pajama pants. “Here it is.” 

She jumped over some of the boxes scattered over the floor and took the envelope from him, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the writing on the front. 

“To the swiftest music fan?” She said, looking up from the envelope and at the two of you. 

You just shrugged. 

“Gonna have to open it, kiddo,” Joel said. 

She slipped her fingers below the seal and pulled out the card, two pieces of paper falling to the ground before she had a chance to read it. She picked them up and unfolded them, reading the first one. 

“It says we have a hotel room in Dallas?” She looked at Joel. 

“Gotta read the other paper, baby girl,” he said. “That’s the important one. And the one from Aunt Goldie.” 

She flipped to that page next and only held it for a moment before shrieking and throwing herself at you, knocking you back into the couch. 

“You got Eras Tour tickets?” She pulled back, half on top of you and half on the couch. You just laughed and nodded. “Oh my GOD, thank you thank you thank you, you’re the best! OH MY GOD!” 

“Well your dad is the one getting us there and making sure we have a place to stay,” you said. “So hug him, too.” 

“Thank you!” She threw herself at him, too, and he laughed, catching her and giving her a squeeze. “This is the best present ever, it’s going to be the best time, I can’t wait! We’re going to see Taylor Swift! Oh my GOD, I have to tell my friends!” 

She shot off to her room to get her phone and Joel laughed, looking over at you. 

“OK I don’t even care that she likes you better n’me now,” he said. “She’s that happy? Worth it.” 

“We’ll see how we feel after a few days wrangling her for the Taylor Swift concert,” you said, watching where she’d disappeared up the stairs. “But… yeah, definitely worth it.” 

“Hey,” Joel said, voice oddly earnest. You looked over at him. “Thanks for loving my kid.” 

You smiled a little. 

“She’s yours,” you said. “How could I not?” 

Tommy came over a few hours later, once the turkey was in the oven and the wrapping paper was cleaned up off the floor. He gave Sarah a five pound bag of Sour Patch Kids and said “don’t tell your dad” before kissing the top of her head as she scampered off to stash her hoard in her room. He greeted you with a hug with a tight squeeze on the end and you still couldn’t quite get used to just how adult he was. There was part of you that still saw him as the little kid who trailed after you and Joel, the one who sometimes begged to go to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Now, he was nearly as tall as his older brother, drinking a beer and talking to Joel about a woman named Maria he’d just started dating. It was an odd reminder of just how much time you’d lost with Joel, just how much had changed. 

The four of you had dinner - Tommy teasing Sarah more like a loving older brother than an uncle, making you smile - and, before too long, the day was done. 

Sarah insisted on listening to Taylor Swift while she got ready for bed and Joel read to her from an Artemis Fowl book, you eavesdropping on Joel doing the voices from your place in the living room while the cats curled up around you. 

A keen sense of belonging settled over you then, as you held a mug of cocoa in one hand and the other rested on the back of your large, orange cat. This, you thought, was where you belonged. In this space, in this time, alongside these people. 

How could you ever hope to find this anywhere else? How were you ever supposed to recover from this stubborn crush if Joel was the place you felt most like home? 

“You OK?” Joel asked, hovering toward the top of the stairs, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. 

“Yeah,” you smiled and gave Puck a scratch and let yourself have the feeling. “I’m good.” 

You got up early the next morning, Joel barely awake enough to help carry your bags to the car. 

“See you New Year’s Eve,” he said, his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants and his hair in total disarray. “Better have that damn book done by then.” 

“Do you really think you can write an entire book in a week?” You asked, brows raised. 

“I dunno,” he said. “You’re the smart one, you tell me.” 

You rolled your eyes and he laughed a little. 

“Alright, I’m goin’ back to bed,” he said. “Text me when you get there, have fun being a genius.” 

“Hey,” you called to him as he made it halfway back up his walk. He turned to face you, frowning slightly. “Thanks. For being my friend.” 

An expression you couldn’t place passed over his face before he smiled a little. 

“Careful,” he said. “Talk like that enough, people might think you care about me and shit.” 

“Well, we can’t have that,” you said. “See you in a few days.” 

He watched you drive off and you made your way to the hill country and the cabin Stephanie had reserved for you. You’d insisted that it have extra bedrooms and a hot tub and were surprised that she hadn’t pushed back on it. 

“Whatever you need to get the job done, you’ve got it,” she said after sending you links to some cabins. “I’m just here to facilitate.” 

You stopped on the way for groceries, stocking up so you wouldn’t need to leave the house once you settled in. You went with most of your standbys for cooking for one and watching the careful diet you’d been on for years but then thought of Joel bringing you tamales and plying you with cookies over the last few days. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did need to live a little. You got the stuff to make the bagel sandwiches, too. 

The cabin was damn near idyllic, all stone and wood with huge windows looking out at the brush leading down to the lake in the backyard. The hot tub was set on the back porch, a fire pit in the yard and rocking chairs out front. The kitchen was large and reasonably well equipped and there were enough bedrooms that Joel, Tommy and Sarah could have their own when they all joined you for New Year’s Eve. There was even a desk set up near a window that overlooked the water and you set up your laptop and charger and got out your notebook with the pen from your Christmas stocking, arranging everything just so. 

“Alright,” you said to no one after you got the groceries put away and made yourself a cup of coffee before settling in at the desk to write. “Let’s do this.” 

And… you tried. You really, truly did. 

Day one, you got most of an outline done. Enough of one that you went to bed feeling somewhat accomplished and felt good treating yourself to a bagel sandwich in the morning. But then, when you sat down to work on the next part for day two, you weren’t sure you liked any of it anymore. You pressed on, anyway. Day three, you tried to write the first chapter and you made some decent progress, at least feeling like you were getting to know the characters a bit as you settled into the story. But, day four, you read what you’d written the day before and wanted to claw your way out of your skin. What were you doing? Why did you think you could do this at all? Had you ever made anything worthwhile on your own? Why would you suddenly be able to do it now? 

The text came through when you were taking a break for lunch, desperately avoiding the gnawing feeling of failure after days of accomplishing fuck all when you really had no excuse not to. You sighed and opened your texts, fully expecting from Joel or Anna or even Stephanie. 

It wasn’t. 

Hey Doll

You dropped your fork in shock and it clattered to your plate as you blinked at your phone in total shock. He was texting you. Why was he texting you? He hadn’t texted you in months, not since you’d left Rhode Island. Why now? Did you want to know? Could you resist knowing? 

Hi Gale

You propped your phone up against your half empty can of Diet Dr. Pepper and stared at the screen, waiting for the next shoe to drop. 

It didn’t take long. 

How’ve you been doing? 

Your hand shook as you replied. 

Alright. I like the new school. You?

He responded almost instantly. 

Not bad. Was just thinking about you. Miss you. 

You froze, your heart in your throat. 

He missed you. How could he just say that? The collapse of your marriage had been one of the most painful things you’d ever gone through, happening in slow motion as he pulled further and further away and you desperately tried to dig your nails in to keep him close. You’d all but begged for him to miss you for years and now he was just texting it to you out of the blue. How could he just say that? How could you pretend like it wasn’t what you wanted to hear? 

You went to his Facebook page and checked his relationship status, one of the upsides to being with an older man meaning that his social media presence was pretty limited. He was still listed as in a relationship with Carla, a woman he’d met in much the same way he’d met you. The thought made your stomach churn, that you’d been so easily replaced by the younger, thinner, prettier version who had been dropped on his desk, practically gift wrapped. 

You went back to the texts. 

How’s Carla? 

There was a longer pause that time. 

She’s not you. 

“Jesus,” you said, setting the phone down and closing your eyes for a moment. You tried to think, forcing yourself to be practical. This wasn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation. You couldn’t have this conversation, not when you’d just been sitting her wondering if you could do the only thing you’d ever felt like you were supposed to do without his help. 

I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m in the middle of working on my book. Maybe another time. 

You stared at the phone, waiting for him to respond. He never did. 

“Yeah, sure seems like you missed me,” you muttered, finishing your salad and cleaning up from lunch, settling back in at your desk to write for the afternoon, trying not to think about the very real possibility that your writing career had ended when your marriage did. 

“I’m losing my mind over here,” you said, breaking down and calling Joel on day five. “There’s only so much I can say to a wall, you know.” 

“We’re comin’ your way tomorrow,” he said. “Be praying for some peace and quiet once Sarah and Tommy are there, trust me. Still like pecan praline ice cream, yeah?” 

“Blue Bell?” You asked. 

“Course it’s Blue Bell,” you could hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “What kind of animal you take me for?” 

“Oh, my apologies…” 

“Anything else you can think of?” He asked. “I can always stop on the way, too, but it’s easier while I’m here.” 

“I still think it’s silly to buy ice cream an hour away and then drive it out here,” you said. 

“That’s what coolers are for,” he replied. “Stop finding shit to worry about. Just give the writing one more shot, see how far you get. Who knows, you might surprise yourself.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you remembered your texts with Gale the day before. 

“Goldie,” Joel said, tone serious. “That all that’s on your mind?” 

“Stop trying to read my thoughts,” you said. 

“Tell me,” he said. “Or I’ll show up early and make you.” 

“That a threat?” 

“That’s a promise,” he said. “What’s goin’ on?” 

“Gale texted yesterday,” you said, fidgeting with the handle of your coffee mug, the coffee itself going cold an hour ago. 

“Gale?” Joel asked, tone sharp. “Fuckin’ Gale? The fuck did he want?” 

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I’ll show you the texts when you get here, maybe you can translate them for me since he’s not making any damn sense.” 

“That asshole better not be making any trouble,” Joel said. “I will find him and kick his ass, Goldie, just say the word…” 

“I know you will,” you laughed a little. “But don’t worry about it right now. And I should let you go…” 

“Yeah, go write your book,” he teased. “Change the world and shit.” 

There was a knock at your front door and you frowned, staring at it. There was a window to the side of it but all you could see was a shadow. 

“Hey, Joel?” You said. “Hang on one second, there’s someone at my door.” 

“What?” He sounded serious now. “Were you expecting anyone?” 

“No,” you said quietly, approaching it slowly and trying to see through the frosted glass. You couldn’t make out who it was. “So just stay on the line and make sure I’m not axe murdered…” 

“Need me to come out there now?” He asked. “If you ain’t safe…” 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, unlocking the deadbolt. “Probably just a neighbor, but…” 

You opened the door and peered out through the crack, phone clutched against your head. 

You still almost dropped it. 

“Hey Doll.” 

***

“Hi Gale.” 

Joel’s heart dropped. 

“Gale?” He said, pressing his phone tight against his head and trying not to yell in the middle of the line at the HEB. “Fucking Gale? He’s there?” 

“I have to go,” you said quickly. “Talk later.” 

You hung up before he had a chance to say goodbye. He tried calling you back but you ignored it. 

Joel stood there, staring at his cart for a moment, his head swimming. 

Was he freaking out because it was you and he didn’t want you alone at some romantic looking cabin with your ex-husband? Was it because he knew that you weren’t in a place to handle this right now? Was it because he knew - knew - that your ex was a goddamn predator? 

He’d bitten his tongue about that fact since you’d been back, that the man you’d married had been more than twice your age and you’d only been a legal adult for all of a month when he’d met you. It didn’t matter that it was you, that Joel had gone searching for you and found you there with him all those years ago, he’d want to beat the shit out of a man like that regardless of who it was. A man like that couldn’t be trusted. 

He especially couldn’t be trusted with you. 

Joel checked out as fast as he could, calling Tommy as he drove. 

“Hey, need you to do me a favor,” he said quickly. 

“You always need me to do you a favor,” Tommy said. “One of these days I’m gonna cash in.” 

“Yeah, who got you the only job besides the army you’ve kept longer than a week?” Joel asked. 

Tommy sighed. 

“Fine. What’s up?” 

“Need you to take Sarah tonight.” 

“Joel, come on!” 

“M’serious,” Joel said. “Goldie’s ex just showed up at the fucking cabin…” 

“Oh, not that fucking asshole from the funeral,” Tommy cut him off. 

“That’s the one,” Joel said. 

“Fuck that guy,” Tommy said. “He needs to stay the fuck away from her.” 

“Yeah, somethin’ tells me he ain’t gonna make that choice on his own,” Joel said. “So I need you to pick up Sarah and take her for the night. And bring me my shit tomorrow. I’ll text you the address where Sarah’s at, she’s at her friend’s playing right now, needs to be picked up about five…” 

“Yeah, I got it,” Tommy said. “Go save the day.” 

Joel drove as fast as he dared, not familiar enough with where cops liked to hide to go too fast. He pulled up in front of the cabin you’d sent him the information for a week and a half earlier. He’d have admired it, in another circumstance. He’d always wanted a place like this, someplace quiet where there was enough space to live a little, maybe hunt. A place where Sarah could run and play and get to know nature a little. 

But in that moment, he was too pissed to take it in. 

He grabbed a bag out of the trunk - pretense more than anything else - and stalked up to the door before knocking on it, his fist coming down in heavy thuds on the wood. 

You pulled open the door, a surprised look on your face and your ex-husband at your back. 

He looked just about the same as Joel remembered him from before. Tall but not as tall as him, a refined air about him that made Joel want to deck him, a smug look on his face. His hair was gray and his face was wrinkled and Joel fucking hated him. 

“Joel,” you said, staring at him. “What are you…” 

Joel did the only thing he could think to do, fucking Brad standing so close to you with a hand between your shoulder blades like he fucking owned you. 

“Missed you too much, baby,” he said, watching your eyes go a little wide at the word. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” 

He reached out and cupped the hinge of your jaw, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and he tugged you closer, his heart beating so fast he was sure that your fucking ex could hear it. 

But he didn’t care. 

All he cared about was the way your lips felt on his when he kissed you. 

Next Chapter

A/N: I mean we can all agree, fuck Brad/Gale.

But also... his presence does get results.

THANKS FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME! Love you!

[h0ck3yl0v3r]

sparks fly

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

lh43 x childhood!bestfriend

warnings: none?!?!

she missed him, and he missed her. with hockey season starting he was a mess. they had gotten paired together for a project in their english class. it was awkward, none of them knowing what to say.

The way you move is like a full-on rainstorm

And I'm a house of cards

they sat in class trying to figure out the topic they should research about. still no words spoken, luke couldn’t help but admire her as she worked. the way her hair kept falling in front of her face, and how she bit the top of her pen from nerves, and the way her eyes were so beautiful.

And you stood there in front of me

Just close enough to touch

Close enough to hope you couldn't see

What I was thinking of

after an hour right before class ended, the two finally found a topic to research on. they settled on how miscommunication can affect ones life. ironic isnt it he thought.

“hey y/n” luke said trying to catch up the girl in a hurry to get back to her dorm.

“what do you want luke.” she said turning to look at the youngest hughes.

“i was wondering if maybe you’d wanna meet after my game, you don’t have to go to it but i figured itd be best if we talk and clear the air since we got paired together.” he said in one breath looking down at her looking for a response.

“okay.” thats all she said. “okay, ill text you after the game, bye y/n.” he said softly, “bye luke” she whispered softly watching him leave.

Drop everything now

Meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain

tonight was a big game, the game against msu. yost was packed, luke was in the locker rooms trying to prepare himself for the game but all he could think about was the one girl who truly made him happy that he hurt. as for her, she was finding her way through yost being dragged out of her dorm by her roommate who was dating one of the players.

as the team skated out for warm ups all the girl could think about was when she’d always attend lukes games, how cute he was in his element, how passionate and focused he is once he hits the ice. she couldnt help but notice how the lighting brought out his green eyes, and how his small smile still has a hold on her.

'Cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile

Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down

Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around

the game ended well, umich winning and luke scoring a hat trick, during his third goal in the third period he finally saw you, pointing at you during his celly. your heart melted at that, almost forgetting entirely about why you were mad at him.

My mind forgets to remind me

You're a bad idea

luke quickly finished changing back into his normal attire as you waited for him outside the locker rooms.

once he came out he gave you a small smile which you did the same back.

“care to go for a little walk m’lady?” he said and you couldn’t help but laugh and nod.

you guys walked in a comfortable silence before taking a break on a bench near his dorm.

“congrats by the way, you did amazing tonight.” you said looking up at him a d he smiled whispering a soft thank you.

“i know i said i wanted to talk to clear the air because of the project but it’s more than that.” he said and you nodded for him to continue “im sorry for everything, truly. i miss you so much it physically hurts and i know its not fair the way i treated you, i don’t expect you to forgive me but i just want you to hear my side of the story. i pushed you away because i thought you deserved someone better, someone who could be there all the time, and to have someone you wont have to worry about having to leave one day and do long distance. but in reality i did it to protect myself, because im in love with you, and i didnt want to have to face losing my best friend, or the heartbreak of when i have to leave for the pro’s but i realize now all i want is you, my whole life, its been you.” his voice cracking and leg bouncing from anxiety. you placed your hand on his knee softly rubbing it to comfort him. “lu, i thought you didn’t like me because you became so distant and went after so many other girls, so i never said anything to protect myself, i was so in love with you, the night i left i had cried to quinny, i thought i never had a chance so i pushed myself away too. but im still so in love with you, no matter how much i try to push it away” you said softly as he cupped your face caressing it softly, “i thought you knew, i gave so many hints” and you looked at him confused, “remember all times in high school when guys tried to hit on you and i immediately scared him away, or whenever id call you after a bad game, or when all i ever wanted was to be with you so i came over for like three days, holding your hand or cuddling watching movies that it came to a point my mom had to drag me back home. i thought you knew.” he said tears now falling softly down both of your faces. “im so sorry lu, i never picked up on any of that, i thought it was just because we were best friends.” he wiped your tears away “we were always more than best friends, so much for miscommunication huh? we better get an A on that project” he joked and you couldn’t help but crack a smile and laugh. and as the clouds began crying too, for the first time luke hughes kissed you. the most soft passionate kiss ever. “i love you.” he said pulling away resting his forehead on yours “i love you luke hughes.”

And the sparks fly

-

taglist: @drysdalesv @shy4turcs @ghostfacd @jackquinnswife

[readychilledwine]

What Dreams May Come

Part One - Asher

Summary - 50 years after sending his pregnant mate and children into hiding, Tamlin wants nothing more than to reconnect with his family.

Warnings - Rhys Slander is HEAVY in this series, references to smut, references to abuse, death, schmurder, fated mates and hidden family trope, kind of angst, tension, if you see an error, no you didn't 👀

A/N - I was going to wait to post this mini series, but I can't. I've been rereading it over and over and judging it harshly (as I do all my writing), so I'm putting it out there before I abandon it. Ps- each child has their own powers. You will learn each child in depth during Araceli's chapter. These are just little previews. Bonus points if you can figure out what Asher’s might be.

🥀What Dreams May Come Masterlist🥀Tamlin Masterlist🥀Master Masterlist🥀

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears (seriously peep the blog. Adorable season court Dividers)

Asher was thoroughly unimpressed with the horned beast staring him down as he flirted with the twin river nymphs he had been chasing for a few days now. Feral eyes were locked on his chocolate brown ones before the body of the beast because to slowly approaching. Asher sighed as the nymphs dove back into the water of the river, whispered melodically in their native tongue. “And what manner of beast are you,” He motioned up and down. “I believe parents should write stories about you. Ugly thing, you are.” 

He froze as the beast shifted, long blonde hair and sun kissed skin replacing the fur. Strong arms went across a wide chest, “Be careful with your words, son. You look just like me.” 

Asher, in fact, did not look like Tamlin. Tamlin screamed of sun, golden blonde hair and green eyes, Asher sang for the moon, dark short hair styled to one side, deep chocolate eyes he must have gotten from his mother's side, tanned skin. It was in their facial structure, the sharp jawline, the nose. That is where the signs of Tamlin rested in his son.

He had grown into a tall male, strong from what Tamlin could tell, but definitely with the same soft heart he had. Tamlin could see it in those eyes. Eyes that currently swan with confusion. The Lord of Sping simply opened his arms smiling as his first son dropped the act and came to him. 

“Dad,” the word was foreign on Asher’s tongue. They had been in hiding for so very long, not even mentioning the word out of fear. Asher had not been held by his father since he was 4, but it felt like he remembered. 

Hugging Tamlin, hugging his dad, it reminded him of the first warm rain in a season. Of getting a blanket warmed near the fire on cold nights from his mother. Asher melted into it, savored it as he took in the vaguely familiar scent of petrichor and freshly trimmed grass.

“I missed you,” Tamlin's deep voice made his eyes close as he rested his head on his shoulder. “Tell me everything. Tell me every happy moment, every ache, tell me you hate me. Anything, Asher. Anything.”

His mother was not home when Asher brought him back to the cave she had turned into a true home. The rumors that she could move mountains were, possibly, not rumors in her son's eyes, because, behind the waterfall the cave was hidden by, she had created a home. Everything he and his siblings had needed was magically summoned and made by his mother. They never wanted anything during the 50 years they had been isolated. 

Asher knew now his mom's magic ensured they had beds, blankets, comfort, through technically stealing. To be conjured, it had to come from somewhere. He had written a poem once about being a shopkeeper in the Night Court and coming into an emptied out shop, but Asher would put money on his mother somehow leaving a note to bill the High Lord of Night. 

Asher had also written a poem about his Uncle finding said bill. His mother told him it was inappropriate while smiling and folding it into her back pocket. 

He and Tamlin stayed quiet as he let the blonde male look around, “They say you can take the female out of the Night Court, but never the Night Court out of the female.”

Asher scoffed at that, “I believe she picked our furniture and goods on where she wanted to take from. Can't feel bad stealing from a rich asshole,” he quoted her exact words. 

Tamlin gave him a look, his lips clearly trying to remain in a stern position. “Your uncle is a-”

“Pompous asshole who feels that he is the change the world needs by just existing and not acting,” Asher was raising a dark brow at him as he poured them some tea. “Mom told me.”

“Asher,” Tamlin continued to try to be firm, “We do not speak of family that way.”

Asher blinked at him, unphased. This child, his oldest son, his mind was unwavering. Not even the Gods themselves could convince them of his Uncle Rhysand's good had they tried. It was his mom's fault, she was blunt and cut throat with her honesty, even when she knew lying would have been best.

Asher had found the history. He'd read the story of how his grandfather had threatened the life of his grandmother, forcing his father's hand to tell him where Rhysand would be meeting his mother and youngest sister. He read how his grandfather forced his father to watch as he mutilated them. 

He then read how Rhysand and his maternal grandfather got their revenge. Minds being melted, an innocent female, a victim in her own right, slaughtered mercilessly. Asher’s mother had still chosen his father, though. She was the only one who saw both sides and felt both heavy hands. Asher knew from the sadness in her eyes she would pick Tamlin again and again, though he had not met his own mate to know why yet.

“Do you always chase females,” Tamlin finally sat, relaxing enough to truly appreciate how handsome his son was.

A wide grin appeared on Asher’s face, “I can't help but to chase them. I've never met an ugly female,  father.”

Tamlin internally cringed at the word father, so informal to the earlier plea of “Dad”. “So no type?”

“Pretty, and they all are. Has to enjoy my poetry, and they all do. I have a, uh, certain way with words."

“So you seduce them with just words?”

Asher glanced up, “Why try something else when I am so good at it.” His face was filled with pride as he went to the book shelf and grabbed a leather book worn with love. He handed the heavy collection of paper to him, “Go ahead. Tell me how fantastic I am.”

Tamlin chuckled as he opened the book. It was definitely made in the Night Court, a sign of where his wife had been technically stealing from outside the obvious furniture and leathers Asher was wearing.  The pages were thick, stained slightly from ink transferring from paper to hand and back. His son's handwriting was influenced by his wife. Soft scrolls flowing together like a melody. The poetry was good, very good. “You haven't decided if you like Quatrain or Villanelle, have you?”

“No,” Asher shifted. “Should I have?”

Tamlin shook his head, “I'm over 500 years old and still bounce from around with different formats and stanza structures.” He continued reading an odd feeling setting into him before he closed the book and saw the shocked look on his son's face.

"You write poetry?!" He watched deep eyes light up and the conversation flew from there, father and son, bonding over poetry, over literature. 

The topics grew, varying from serious, to funny, to gossip. Tea constantly poured between them as they discussed being forced to train, of their mutual love of chocolate, of their favorite writers. Tamlin learned so much as the hours past before Asher asked if he wanted some fresh air.

Asher was strong, mentally, emotionally, and physically. It comforted Tamlin as they moved outside using a back magical gate made by Araceli. It took them to a vegetable garden that thrived, insects flying all around, fruit hanging from heavy trees. “Where is this place,” Tamlin looked around.

“We're still in The Middle,” Asher laid out the blanket before gently tossing his bag down. “I'm sure you secretly do recognize the cottage we're near.” The High Lord did, nodding as he studied the place he'd been told his whole life to avoid. The Weaver’s home was deadly, dangerous, and forbidden. Yet his son sat outside of it like it wasn't even phasing him. “Mom made her a deal. The Weaver likes her hair. Mom likes the protect she gives us. Once a year, mom let's The Weave cut her hair for threads in exchange for protection and us being allowed to grow this garden.”

The horrified expression on his father's face wasn't missed by Asher. A bargain with a being like The Weaver was not taken lightly. His mom worked hair to ensure her hair stayed healthy, long, and ready. The Weaver claimed her hair had some magical properties, but all Asher envisioned when he was young was the ancient being using them as some sort of enchanted tie to his mom, ready to rip her from them and eat them at any given notice. 

“Is she insane?!”

Eyes narrowed at him, “She was alone,” Asher emphasized the word making it a dagger. “She did a lot of dangerous things to protect us. You should be worshiping the very ground she walks upon.” 

Momma’s boy. 

Asher was still momma’s boy. 

Tamlin shook his head, “I love her. More than you know and understand. I love you more than you understand.”

“Loved them so much you hid them away in one of the most dangerous places in the realm?” The soft female voice had Asher smirking. Tamlin turned to face a young blonde, her hair falling in soft waves with braids placed strategically to help prevent the locks from falling into soft green eyes. 

This. This was him. Had Tamlin been born a female, this is what he'd look like. One cheek dimpled as she smiled, the asymmetry flattered her, complimenting soft cheek bones, a gently sloped nose, full blush lips. Along every inch of her face, freckles danced, marking her skin like soft kisses. 

“Sister,” a pen met paper as Asher spoke. “You are busy little bee I see.” 

Her hands were both filled with baskets almost overflowing with herbs, vegetables, edible flowers. Her nails had dirt under the nails and staining the skin. She carrying a look of pride and accomplishment Tamlin knew well. This was her garden and it was fruitful. “Your squash was ready,” she was speaking to Asher but her eyes were on Tamlin. “Momma said she could turn it into soup?” Asher nodded, but he was deep into capturing Something on page, a grunt was his only other response. She continued to stare at Tamlin, “Do you know which of your children I am?”

Tamlin wanted to roll his eyes at her, say of course, but he refrained, watching as she moved, sitting next to Asher but slightly behind him. “I know my own baby girl, Taryn,” the High Lord said. “Your dimple gives you away.” He couldn't help but reach for her cheek, but a firm hand stopped him from touching her.

“I don't believe my sister gave you permission to put your hands on her face.” A smirk of pride grew on Tamlin's face as Asher now fully looked at his father and little sister. “You may touch her when, and if, Taryn allows. Until then, no.”

Taryn leaned her head onto Asher’s shoulder as Tamlin lowered his hand. “You two are close?”

“Very,” they answered in unison.

“How were Darya and Amaya?”

“Who?”

“The river nymphs twins,” Taryn glared at Asher. “The two you've been trying to bed for a week now?”

Asher sighed and laid back, “They're impossible!”

Taryn and Tamlin glanced at him, “How so,” the high lord asked.

“They're identical! They said they only sleep with males who can tell them apart! Their hair is the same length. Their eyes both sparkle like a clear lake. They both have the perfect little nymph figure. Hair black as coal. They're gorgeous, fun, witty.” Asher covered his eyes by dramatically laying his arm across his face, “One of them I am most interested in. I believe it is Darya.”

“Does she have a shell braided Into her hair?”

Asher nodded at his sister's question, “She's.. she's just stunning. Inside and out. I may be in love."

Tamlin hid a smile as he reached into Taryn's woven basket filled with fruit and stole an apple. Asher continued telling Taryn his woes before sighing. "I wrote a new poem for her," he whispered with an air of insecurity. "I just.. wish she would respond some way, any way really.

He stood and then reached down to grab each basket, “I'll take these home. I.. I'm going to try just her. Maybe that will help?" He looked to his sister and father for some reassurance.

Taryn nodded, “I like that idea.”

“I think she's special.”

“Then she is,” Tamlin answered simply. “Go. I'll take care of Taryn.” Asher nodded, disappearing in the same gate his mother had opened.

Silence fell between the two on the blanket. The air was thick and heavy, a contrast to the brightness of his daughter's garden, to the smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes.

“You may hold me.”

4 words. 4 soft words. Spoken with hesitation, anger, grief, fear. 

Yet they opened a floodgate as a father pulled his daughter to him, the process beginning again as the sunset behind them. 

Tamlin knew his goal as he took him the scent of strawberries lingering in her blonde hair.

Board by board. Brick by brick. Nail by nail. He was going to rebuild his family. Even if doing so hurt him in the process.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

And my fellow Tamlin girlies:

@nocasdatsgay @pit-and-the-pen

[toastnpretzels]

home

relationships: crosshair x reader

masterlist

word count: 733

warnings: angsty, fluff, there's an unexplained relationship between the reader and crosshair, kinda left it up to interpretation whether you think they were together before or if it was just them having feelings for each other.

season 3 episode 4 spoilers

author's note: i have not posted a fic in so long. ive been so busy but that doesnt matter. the new episode had me feeling some type of way so here you go. its kinda short but i didnt want to expand without seeing hunter and wrecker's reaction to crosshair being back.

thank you for any support whether its likes, reblogs, or comments <3

“I had help.”

The last few months had been terrible. From losing Tech and then losing Omega to the empire. Spending everyday looking for her with no success. Nothing was ok. All of us were miserable. Our family was being torn apart and there was nothing we could do about it. It couldn’t have gotten any worse.

Getting the comm from Omega was one of the best things to ever happen to us, but seeing her running down from the ship was even better. Embracing her, knowing she was safe, felt better than anything had. Things were starting to feel right again. All it took was one hug from Omega.

But then he walked off the cargo ship and everything in my body froze. He looked so different. He had been gone for so long that I thought the feelings had disappeared. Seeing him there, I knew they never were.

I forgot what it was like to be near him. I forgot how my heart sped up and how my head felt dizzy. I forgot how he smelled and how warm he was. I forgot how much I loved him.

-

After Kaller, nothing was ever the same. He wasn’t the same. The chip had changed him. The Empire had changed him.

He let us go on Kamino. The same day you had told him you loved him. On the platform before we left, with tears in my eyes. I told him I loved him.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Crosshair, please,” you whispered. He could hear the way your voice was breaking. You couldn’t lose him again.

When he didn’t say anything, you turned to walk away. Typical Crosshair to not say anything. He grabbed your wrist as you started walking.

“I love you.”

You stared at him. Your tears threatened to spill out from his confession.

“But I can’t come with you. You deserve better. This is where I want to be. With the Empire.”

I should have dragged him to the ship. I should have done more. But what more could you do when he didn’t want to be there. He wanted to be with the Empire.

Why couldn’t he have just came with you that day?

-

No one moved. Everyone was just as shocked to see him. No one knew what he was going to do, how he was going to react. He had tried to kill us before, but he had also let us go. No one trusted him anymore. You chose to remember how he had let us go.

You were the first one to move. Slowly, I stepped out from behind Wrecker. Every step I took towards him was filled with anxiety. It had been too long.

He doesn’t want to see me.

Is he still him?

Why did he come then?

Why would he still be here if he didn’t want to be?

You stopped a few feet in front of him. I could see how tired he looked from where I was standing. I couldn’t stand seeing him like this. It hurt so much. He had been through so much since Kamino.

What did they do to him?

I couldn’t stand there anymore. I ran the few feet that were left in between us. I wasn’t sure if he would push me away. As I got close to him, I fell right into his arms. I didn’t realize just how much I had missed him until this moment. He wrapped his arms around me in the tightest embrace I’ve ever had. It had been too long since I had felt him. He was safe. He was here.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered after a few minutes, so quietly that you barely heard it.

I looked up at him. He had tears that were threatening to spill over. Your heart broke at the look on his face.

“Shh. Not now. Just let me hold you.”

You stood there for what felt like an eternity just holding each other. Quiet tears were spiling from both of your eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered into your hair. His arms tightened around you again, as if he was afraid you would disappear.

It would be hard to forgive. Hard for everyone, not just you. So much had happened. But for now, all that mattered was that him and Omega were safe. Omega was home. Crosshair was home.

“I love you too.”

[just-here-with-my-thoughts]

i'm not trying to replace you (only hold on to your memory)

@summer-of-bad-batch bonus prompt "Can you braid my hair?"

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Hunter, Omega, Tech (mentioned) Set after the finale when everyone is living happily on Pabu Word Count: ~1950 Read Here on AO3

Synopsis: Omega misses the quiet rituals that had been hers and Tech's alone, and turns to Hunter for comfort.

Author's Note:- You all know @kybercrystals94, right? The brilliant mastermind behind the Summer of Bad Batch event? Detail Work is one of Kyber's earliest fics, and one of my favourites. When the hair braiding prompt came up during voting for the event I immediately had an idea for a story that occupies the hollow space of Omega's loss, and leads perfectly into my fic Beach Days & Hair Braiding So go read Detail Work and show Kyber some love, and enjoy this slice of Hunter comforting Omega too! :)

“Hunter!”

The tone of Omega’s cry had Hunter on instant alert, head jerking up from his task stirring the dinner. Omega flew in through the door, running straight at him and into his chest, face buried in his apron.

“Woah,” he soothed, carefully laying the sauce-stained wooden spoon atop the pot and instead cupping one hand to the back of her head, smoothing her hair as he brought his other arm round her shoulders in an awkward embrace. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” came the muffled reply. It was the least-convincing lie he had heard since Wrecker claimed he wasn’t the one who had devoured the entire tray of delicately-prepared dainties Hunter had made specially for one of Echo and Crosshair’s visits.

“Nothing,” he echoed sceptically. He settled her more firmly in his embrace, dropping his head to press a soft kiss to the top of her hair. “Alright then. I guess if nothing is up, I’ll just hold you for no reason… ‘til you’re ready to talk?”

He let his voice lift the sentence into a question, and Omega’s answering nod bobbed against his chest. Hunter squeezed her tightly, pressing reassurance into her with both arms now as they stood in the quiet kitchen and listened to the pots bubble on the stove.

After a while Hunter began to hum a tuneless, absent-minded rhythm, the noise vibrating through his chest and to Omega. Her breathing was evening out now, although he could still feel the pressure of her hands bunched tightly in his shirt-front through the apron.

The apron had been a gift from Omega who had gotten tired of helping him wash the food-splatter stains out of his shirts when he first started learning to cook. Wrecker was much better at cooking than he was, and endlessly teased his brother about being unable to smell when his food was burned or over-seasoned despite his enhanced senses. But Hunter persevered, determined to prove himself capable as more than a weapon of war – to be able to provide for his family in more ways than simply defending them from danger.

“Need to stir this,” he cautioned, nudging the toes of his boots against Omega’s feet. Obediently she lifted them one at a time, standing onto his feet, and let him waddle-shuffle them round so he could face the cooker again, reaching out to retrieve the spoon and attend to the bubbling pot.

Hunter shifted his arm lower across her back, holding her close to him and away from the hot pans.

“Think I made too much,” he said conversationally. “Who shall we invite round for dinner to eat the excess tonight?”

“No-one,” mumbled Omega against his chest. Her hands finally relaxed their death-grip on his shirt, only to go round his middle instead. She turned her face to the side, cheek resting on his chest, and her words became easier to make out. “You can save the leftovers for another day. We should have a quiet night.”

Something was definitely up, but Hunter merely rested his chin on her head as he worked and hummed an agreement.

“Sure, kid. Whatever you want,” he promised.

When everything was cooked – at least, Hunter hoped it was properly cooked – he turned off the heat and carried Omega, still standing on his feet, in the same awkward waddle across the tiny kitchen to retrieve plates.

“Not as easy as when you were small,” he lamented with a smile, and that at last drew a giggle from Omega as she hopped down from his feet to help set the cutlery out.

Hunter’s gaze turned pensive as he watched her, though he quickly smoothed the expression into a smile when Omega glanced his way. She had grown so much in the months since they had settled on Pabu – finally, full-time, no half-commitments, settled down. For good.

She still bore the scars of her trauma from Tantiss, probably always would. Kriff, they all did. But each day that passed with more smiles than pain was a victory, and the longer they went without the shadow of the Empire darkening their lives, the more fully Omega relaxed.

Like she finally believed she might be safe.

Even then, she had the occasional day like this.

Plating up their meal and setting both dishes on the small table, Hunter sat opposite Omega. He cast one of his brief smiles her way, before turning his attention to his food.

“So what have you been up to today?” he asked, tone light and conversational; he wasn’t a sergeant asking for a debrief any more. Not to mention that the open question would let Omega tell him as much – or as little – as she was ready to.

“Me and the boys–” meaning the clones Mox, Stak and Deke, “spent the morning cleaning the bay from last night’s storm,” Omega told him, shovelling food into her mouth. At least she hadn’t lost her appetite. “There was loads of cool stuff washed up there. Oh!”

She paused, laying down her cutlery, and reached into her jacket.

A wan smile lit her face behind the hesitation in her eyes, but she looked straight at Hunter as she said, “I made this for you.”

She pulled forth a length of string, coiled and knotted, and threaded with a spiral shell at the bottom. The twine – old fisher-net rope, if Hunter judged it correctly – was pushed through a natural perforation near the top of the shell, and the whole thing still carried the salt-rich scent of the ocean.

“It’s a necklace,” Omega supplied, as though it needed the explanation.

Hunter reached out and took it from her, carefully turning the shell in his hands and admiring the gentle intricacy of the spiral and the soft iridescence as it caught the light. Then he looped the string over his head, letting the shell hang against his sternum, over his heart.

“I love it,” he told her with a genuine grin, continuing to hold the shell with his left hand as with his right he resumed eating. “Did you find anything else?”

“Some tarpaulin we can probably patch,” she said, “and… I think it’s part of the Marauder’s nav console?” And she produced a dented metal cylinder, the transparisteel cover cracked and broken.

Hunter nodded, inspecting the part. When the Marauder exploded – was destroyed – debris had scored the mountain-face of the island near the docks, and been scattered wide into the ocean. They were still finding pieces all this time later.

“We can probably repurpose it for something,” he said, setting it down to continue his meal. “What did you do with the rest of the day?”

“I was helping Phee rewire her ship–”

Omega’s words choked off and she stuffed a huge forkful of food into her mouth to cover it. Hunter had noticed though. He watched as Omega chewed, gaze downcast and eyes too-bright, and knew they were getting close to what had upset her.

“Something happen with Phee?” he asked carefully, nudging her ankle under the table to show his support.

“Not really,” said Omega with a head-shake, then abruptly, “Can you braid my hair?”

“What?”

Hunter blinked, nonplussed at the sudden turn in conversation and Omega’s demanding tone. She was staring at him with a hard, uncompromising line to her mouth, the corners just downturned, and with her brown eyes shining with near-tears she looked for all the world the same as his brothers had when they were stubborn cadets. Probably looked like he had, too.

“I, uh…” He glanced at her blonde hair, the lengths escaping her pony-tail tucked behind her ears. “I don’t know how,” he admitted, then gestured vaguely. “Why don’t you ask Lyana?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Omega’s expression closed off, her gaze dropping away from his once more.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, then pushed her plate away. “I’m finished. Gonna have an early night–”

“Now hang on a second–” Hunter stood with her, chair scraping on the floor as he stepped quickly to block her path. She wouldn’t look at him but she didn’t shrug him off as he rested a hand on her upper arm, rubbing soothingly. “Omega. Why do you want me to braid your hair?” he asked, making sure to put the gentle emphasis in the right place.

Omega sniffed, and at last those threatened tears beaded on her lashes, starting to track down her tanned cheeks.

“I miss Tech,” she whispered, voice wobbling a little through the tears she fought to swallow. “He used to braid my hair for me. I… I was hoping you would…”

She trailed off hopelessly, and with a sympathetic noise Hunter pulled her back into a hug, holding her close and swaying slightly.

Casting his mind back, he remembered coming back from supply runs to find Omega with a neat pair of braids in her still-short hair, tied carefully at the nape of her neck. He pressed his cheek tightly against her hair now, giving her ponytail a gentle flick.

“Tech did your hair?” he asked with a smile, surprised to find the thickness of grief in his throat as he spoke. “I always thought you did it yourself.”

Omega gave a laugh which was almost a sob. “I found some instructions on the holonet but I couldn’t get it right. Tech was… Tech was so good at detail work.” She was trembling in his arms, but this was good, that she was releasing the pressure of her grief instead of keeping it inside for fear of upsetting her brothers. “I was hoping… You might be able to…”

Hunter angled his head, pressing a fond kiss to her temple and holding her tightly. “Of course,” he murmured, voice holding a promise he didn’t know how to deliver, but Force help him he’d try. “I’d be honoured.”

She relaxed a little into his arms, a shudder of grief passing between them as he willed love into her. Eventually she pulled back, swiping at her tear-stained cheeks with her sleeve, but she was smiling.

“You’ll learn to do it then? Braid my hair?”

Hunter nodded fervently. “I’ll find someone to teach me.”

He reached up, stroking the stray ends of her hair that clung to her damp cheeks and brushing them back so he could see her face, blotchy and pink with crying. He took her cheeks in his hands, holding her face gently cupped as he smiled down at her. Letting a glimpse of his own sorrow leach past his usual mask, he breathed out a sigh.

“Can’t promise I’ll be as good at it as Tech,” he cautioned, playfully flipping the ends of her hair. “Your hair always looked lovely like that, Omega.” He smiled, keeping one hand cupped to her cheek. “He’d be so proud of how you’ve grown.”

Omega sniffed, but now she was smiling even if it was with an ache of sadness.

“I think I’m still going to have that early night,” she said, stepping back at last.

Hunter let his arms drop to his sides, a slow movement that ached with the reticence of releasing her, but that was his role in her life now. Learning to let her go. Still being here when she needed to run home to his arms.

“Sure thing, kid,” he said softly, offering her one last pat to the shoulder. “I’ll clean up out here.”

“Maybe… I could keep my door open?” suggested Omega. “So I can hear you?”

Hunter smiled and gave her a gentle push towards her room.

“Whatever you want,” he promised, and he meant it.

Whatever she wanted. Whatever she needed.

He would be there for her.

Time to learn to braid hair.

[jadehaven]

Elrond and Galadriel S2 are not the same Elrondriel from S1.

I just started my rewatch of season 1 of ROP, and immediately my interpretation of their relationship has elaborated since the events of season 2. Warning you, this is a long post, but let’s jump in ↴

S1E01

There’s one specific line that made me realize how the distance between them over the last centuries has changed their relationship. Galadriel says to Elrond:

“Why Elrond, you really have become a politician.”

This demonstrates that before their time apart, their dynamic was different. He wasn’t always this pristine, polished and polite elf. It’s almost like he is leaning *too* much into his elven side, and he’s gotten used to using it as a front. To me, it’s almost as if Galadriel misses the human side of him, but it’s been well packed away now since she’s been gone.

My interpretation is that his human side is where his weakness for Galadriel really lies. By putting it away while she’s gone, he’s made it easier to accept that they will always be different— half elf vs full elf. She will be resilient in a way which he cannot. And, she will be leaving. It’s much easier to part with someone you deeply care for if you deny the part in you that would beg them to stay if you could.

When he says to her “What you have always been; *my friend*. It pulls us out of the moment to recognize that this is where they are now, established in their “careers” so to speak, but it is not where they’ve always been. They’ve accepted that this is as far as their relationship will go, this is the full extent of their need for each other.

“What you have always been: my friend.” is also “This is the most we will ever be in this life: friends.”

They’ve never considered anything more because they have accepted that this is where the story ends. She’s a soldier, he’s a politician. But like I said, they weren’t *always* this, and perhaps, during the time of “what you have always been* there was the fleeting, yet gleaming possibility of *more*.

The days when Elrond and Galadriel would sit under the trees, Elrond reading poetry and practicing languages. Galadriel making fun of him, and other times resting in the wake of his voice- some of the only times she truly *could* rest.

Chasing each other around the river, play fighting until one is over the other, because once there was no “pristine and polished”, there was only her half human friend. The only one who saw and understood her brashness, her grief, her misalignment.

There was Elrond, who’s hunger for knowledge allowed him to catch up with Galadriel, maturing further than she, in wisdom beyond his years. The elf who one day, instead of pining her down by the strength of his hands, put her in her place with his words.

But after everything? They’ve spent so much time apart that they forgot those versions of them even existed.

The version of them where Galadriel can recognize Elrond’s words in the High King’s speech, so much so that she turns to him only to catch him mouthing the words. A split second smile that says “I know you better than anyone else.”

By the time they reunite, only a fraction of who they were are who they are together remains. And oh, how he misses it. But wisdom would be to stay where he is, and for her to go where she needs to go. And without Galadriel, there is no reminder of his human side. There is no need of it. So he will continue on as a politician elf, and nothing more. He will finally make something of himself that is worthy to be proud of.

Except, that this is actually a *second chance* story, and it doesn’t end here.

“I’ve missed you.”

The weight in that sentence. The truth that comes forth— realize, that this is a form of grief, a grief that the human in him understands. His elven side should know that he will see her again one day in Valinor, and that all is well. But not all that is in him has been put to rest. That little bit of peredhel, the faces and words that come out only when he’s deep in the mines of a mountain, far from where the sky can see him, comes out around her.

“Galadriel! It’s Elrond!”

“Prove it.”

Prove to me that you are still you, and I am still me, and we are still who we are to each other, because being with you is the only place I truly feel safe. Prove to me that that place is not lost, that I can still come back to it.

If only it was that easy.

S2

“You were my friend!.”

Why is her betrayal so personal? Some would say my perspective is far fetched, but there has to be an explanation as to why it hits to deep. Was it that trust was broken? That she didn’t listen— but wouldn’t that affect all the elves? Why does he say this one line?

Because he’s said it to himself for centuries, and he was ready to get to stop. And now she’s back, and his peredhel is back, and he has to decide what he’s going to do if he has to spend thousands more years either at or away from her side. ‘How could you stay? Why would you make it that much harder for me? For us?’

Oh, and in the mean time, she fell for the Dark Lord. He could see the affect he had on her.

She’d rather have *Sauron himself* over her *best friend*?

I’d be pissed too.

“It was entirely of your choosing.” ‘Why do I know that? Because of course you’d choose a fighter, unlike me. Of course you’d choose a human, because you like that about me. Of course you’d choose him, when you could’ve chosen me.’

“If this friendship ever meant anything to you… then you’d leave.” Sigh. He’s so tired of being just her friend.

And that is why the tension builds. That is why it’s so personal. But even in their quarrelling, there is hope, because finally, *finally* after years and years and years apart, they are the closest they’ve been to who they were before. The “I can see right through you” type of bickering. The “You’re a pain in my ass, but also the most important person to me.” kind of love. It hurts, but I’d reckon it’s better than the Polished Politician Elf and Vengeful Warrior Princess roles they were playing whilest apart.

And so it goes, as usual in a second chance story, they have the chance to either pretend for another few thousand years that the love they have for each other can still fit squished tightly inside the little box of “friendship”, or, let the walls come down and accept that you simply cannot live without loving this person to full capacity. In this case, well… let’s just say another word for *tension* is *denial*.

Maybe, a part of Elrond realizes the truth too late. Maybe only the human side of him realizes it, but it’s just enough to put a crack in the glass. Just enough to let a little bit of love bubble out and into his hands, to reach for her face, and then into his lips, to reach for hers, before retreating again. In that moment, they’re finally where they always were meant to be. If he sees her again, he will put it right. No more tension, only truth. The glass is broken and eventually all the walls will come down, one by one— starting with saving her life, even if it means denying that “oh so sure, prestigious elven wisdom” that courses through his veins.

With everything stripped away, they’re not who they were at the beginning of season 1. But I would argue, that who they were together in season 1 was not who they really are at all. Now we finally see Galadriel, as the Lady of Light, and Elrond Peredhel. Both coming around to accept their full selves, which will in turn, perhaps, allow them to accept the love they have for each other.

Maybe after nearly losing each other 3 times, they’ll come around to the fact that their story has much more weight then they’d imagine, and thus, finally finish what Tolkien put away in a box decades ago. I guess only time will alone tell, but in that time, I’ll hold onto my hope.

Thanks for reading :)

JH