#quentin my husband

[mystycalypso]

You're never investigating alone in Ravenbrooks :)

[eliseinmemphis]

IM SAYING IT NOW FOR POSTERITY

but i am convinced austin is who tarantino has in mind for his last movie

he wants an american actor who is around 30-35, and who hasn’t been a leading man for him before,,, plus!!!! we all know tarantino loves reusing actors

and austin: is an american actor who is around 30-35, who has worked with tarantino, but never as a lead

i have no evidence other than what i feel in my gut, pussy, and bones but mark my words

[sinningsprinkles]

[celestemona]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒

a brief look at their daily life & random family’ moments (not the same timeline)

pairing: dad & husband! wriothesley, cyno, kaveh x fem! reader

cw: original characters, maternity, pregnant reader in wriothesley's part, parenthood, use of endearment names, arabic terms & fluff stuff. not beta-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

x

Wriothesley

Busy with your daily tasks, you and Wriothesley enjoyed each other's company in his office allowing only the rustling of papers and the noises of the pen signing documents to cause any sound in the slightly silent environment. 

The weight and movements in your womb didn't bother you as much as the discomfort caused by the swelling in your feet, and so you took advantage of those moments to work while allowing your body to relax on the sofa that your husband had recently bought.

A stack of papers was supported by your belly as you placed all the revised documents to be filed on top of it, but Wriothesley could see that all that paperwork didn't interest you as much as the crossword puzzle from The Steambird newspaper that you currently entertaine yourself.

“Honey, quickly. Known as Liyue’ enlightened beasts or gods. Seven letters.” 

Wriothesley looked up from a form and pondered for a few seconds before smirking, “Easy. Adeptus.”

You smiled excitedly, gratefully and scribbled down the answer right away.

Moving on to the next riddle, you had barely noticed someone knocking on the door until your husband allowed their entry and the presence of your teenage son was present. The boy peeked shyly through the crack in the door before entering.

“Mom. Dad. Are you busy?”

“Never for you, sweetheart,” you replied, setting the newspaper aside and placing the other papers on the tea table in front of you, gesturing for him to come closer. Cameron smiles sweetly and walks over to you, sitting next to you and soon being covered by your attention and affection. 

“Is there a problem, buddy? I thought you were in the city with Quentin,” Wriothesley asks. 

“No no. Everything's okay, don't worry. Quentin forgot that today was his parents' performance day and Corinne picked him up while we were at the beach. Éveline is also busy so I decided to come home,” the boy explains. 

You and Wriothesley nod in acknowledgement and your husband stands up from his own table announcing that he was going to prepare a pot of tea for the entire family. 

Cameron leans into the warmth of your embrace as you return to entertain yourself with your puzzle, but never pushing your son away from you. Meanwhile, seeming to sense her older brother's presence, your daughter starts kicking your stomach as if she too wants attention. Both you and Cameron laughed. 

“Does it hurt?,” he asks.

“No. I mean... Sometimes it feels like your sister thinks my belly is a playground and not even my ribs escape unscathed, but that's nothing I can't handle with,” you respond as you feel the boy's smaller hands caressing the area where Marie's little feet stretched. Gradually the heavy kicks became light nudges and you breathe a sigh of relief. 

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Cameron coos. 

Smiling, you kiss the top of your child's head and respond, “She's looking forward to meeting you too.”

A few minutes later, as Wriothesley returned with tea and some treats, the sight of his wife and son welcoming him warmly brought a small smile to his face. Even after so many years together and living this life, Wriothesley felt that there was nothing as beautiful and full of love as his little family. He was truly grateful for you three. 

Cyno

The General Mahamatra was accompanying the Less Lord Kusanali back to the Sanctuary of Surasthana after a long meeting with all the sages and the scribe of the Akademiya when he saw you leaving the Grand Bazaar with the twins by your side. 

The sparkle that briefly crossed his eyes when he saw his family could have gone unnoticed by most people who, themselves, would avoid entering the matra's vision at all costs. However, as smart and aware of her surroundings as she could be, the little dendro archon giggled softly and suggested that Cyno end his day's work to enjoy that comfortable afternoon with his wife and children. 

“Don’t worry about me. I'm just going to take a look around here and I'll be back home before dark,” she assured. 

Hesitant and perhaps a little worried about the little girl's well-being, Cyno took a while to accept the offer, arguing that he’d see you at the end of the day. However, after much persuasion from Nahida, and perhaps even inappropriate use of her hierarchy, the electro user soon found himself thanking the goddess for her kindness and bidding her farewell as he made his way to you and your children next. 

As if his senses were warning him of a new presence, Isaar was the first to notice his father approaching — welcoming him with a genuine smile and an excited wave that drew his twin's attention and yours back to him. You greet your husband with a quick peck on his cheek that didn't fail to leave him embarrassed and you amused, and the twins approach to receive a pat on the head simultaneously. 

“Hey baba, guess what,” Isaar announces excitedly “We’re having Shawarma Wrap for dinner tonight!”

Cyno blinks contemplatively and stares at you with a raised eyebrow, “That’s unusual. Any special occasion?”

“I won three rounds against Yan in the Invokation TCG, and we had bet that whoever won would be able to order mama for a special dinner.”

Cyno nods in understanding and Aryan sighs in defeat but already resigned. 

“I really wanted to eat mama’s Panipuri. Grandpa even helped me pick the best potatoes for them,” the quieter twin murmurs, but you hear him and let out a giggle, stroking the boy's face. 

“I’ll make them next time, Ary. Promise. I’ll even make double the quantity just for you,” you respond quietly so only he can hear and your son nods.

The general, unable to avoid listening to your conversation, also smiled a little. Here you were once again resolving a situation that might seem insignificant to others, but to you, it’d never cease to be important — and just with a few simple words you managed to express exactly what your son wanted to hear. 

In the end, Cyno removed the shopping bags from your reach and held them tightly with one hand while the other reached for yours before intertwining your fingers, guiding you back home. The twins walked in front of you two engaged in a conversation in their own language, never leaving their father's or mother's sight. 

Even though moments like these were rare given his and your duties, Cyno enjoyed every second he could get in the presence of the people he loved most. Because as simple as they were, they were just as special. 

Maybe he should ask Nahida for a holiday. But just maybe. 

Kaveh

“Daddy, daddy, daddy! Guess what! I will marry Hakim!” 

Those were the words your sweet girl announced as she entered the kitchen, making you pause your lunch preparation to look at her and Kaveh choke on the wine he was currently enjoying. 

The architect needed your help to relieve the coughs that filled his throat and inhale deeply to recover from the situation that almost dug his grave before his time — the words of his little princess, not the wine. 

“Princess, I thought you were going to marry daddy,” the man reminded her with a shaky smile and voice. You snorted.

“No! Daddy is already married to mommy. Also, look how beautiful this drawing Hakim made for me!” Zahra responds excitedly and hands her father a colorful and childish, but almost identical, replica of the Palace of Alcazarzaray. Although he didn't want to acknowledge it, Kaveh had to admit: the mini copy of his best friend had talent. 

“Oh my. How beautiful Zaza,” you praise the drawing as you lean over your husband, “Did you thank him properly, right?”

“Yes! I gave him a rose,” she says proudly. 

Kaveh's heart suddenly softens. Zahra truly was a thoughtful, sweet, and kind child, and he was proud of the beautiful girl he watched grow up every day — taking only the best traits from both her parents. That's why Kaveh protected her so fiercely because his little princess was too precious and he’d never forgive himself if something took that bright smile away. 

“Daddy is still against this marriage, though,” he says suddenly after snapping out of his reverie, “You are too young, I doubt Hakim would have the ideal resources and qualities to provide you with a good home and above all, men, in general, are horrible. But daddy isn’t. So daddy is the best option!” Kaveh ends his speech by crossing his arms and pretending to make a displeased face. You roll your eyes and pinch his cheek. He pouts at that. 

“Let kids be kids, love.”

Zahra, in turn, didn't seem sad or shaken by her father's words at all, but rather contemplative. The little girl's brow furrowed for a moment before she answered him.

“But daddy, Hakim promised that we’d get married when we were big like you and mommy and his mama and papa. He said that when he grows up he’ll become a great house artist like you and then he will make a house for the two of us to live in and you can visit us all the time!”

Kaveh was internally horrified. They were already making plans for the future and Zahra hadn't even had her seventh birthday yet. 

That was unacceptable, intolerable — the architect didn't even want to think about other possibilities. 

But looking at his daughter's sparkling golden irises and genuine smile because of all that fairy tale, the man couldn't retort but sigh in resignation. Besides, Hakim's word about he being a great artist were appreciated. But just a little bit.

“Fine. But you won't get married until you're thirty-seven. And Hakim has to build a palace with many rooms and a beautiful garden. And I will visit you every day!” he snorts and Zahra nods excitedly, giggling hugging him afterwards.

Meanwhile, you kept watching them with mild amusement and a warmth comforting your heart. 

If only your husband knew that childhood friends to lovers was a very common thing he’d go back on his words.”

.

a/n: i planned to write a part for kazuha and alhaitham but i'm a little bit tired so maybe in the next update? we'll see...

please let me know if there’s any mistakes ;)

[writemekpop]

Love Drunk | Lee Donghyuck (Haechan)

Summary: When Haechan accidentally proposes to you during sex, you don’t know how to react. 

Genre: Established relationship AU, fluff

Word count: <1k

“Oh yes, right there,” Haechan sighed as your bodies rocked in time with each other.

His strong hand stroked up and down your waist, resting possessively on your butt. It sent a shiver through your thin T-shirt to your skin.

“Marry me, Y/n,” he gasped. 

You froze, staring at Haechan. 

He opened his eyes wide and stared back at you. 

“What did you just say?” you whispered, moving away from him. 

“Nothing – whatever – I was babbling,” Haechan said. 

“No you weren’t. You said… you wanted to marry me.” You wrapped your arms over your knees and stared at them in disbelief.

“People say that!” Haechan said. “It’s like, a sex thing. You don’t really mean it.”

You frowned. “’Choke me’ is a sex thing, Haechan. Not marry me.” 

You felt the pit in your stomach grow and grow. “Please go, Haechan. Just get out of my room,” you managed to say before your throat closed up. 

As soon as Haechan closed the door behind him, the tears welled in your eyes. 

This was meant to be a casual relationship, just for a year or so until you graduated. You still had so much to do. You were meant to make your first feature film, get an internship with a studio, and buy your own place before you even thought about marriage.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. 

You opened the door for Haechan, then sat on the floor. He came and sat quietly next to you. 

“You know, when someone asks you to marry them, it’s usually considered a good thing,” he said, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

You laughed. “So you were asking me, huh?” 

Haechan shook his head, his eyebrows coming together. “No. But really, is the idea of marrying me so terrible?” 

You looked at Haechan for a long moment, then shook your head. 

“No, it’s not,” you said. “That’s the problem. Marrying you would be amazing. You cook the best Chinese, you let me talk about Quentin Tarantino all day, and you think I’m beautiful even when I look like this,” you say, wiping your nose. 

“Right. That sounds like a decent reason to cry,” Haechan said gravely, so you punched him in the shoulder. 

“Everything’s all wrong. I wasn’t meant to find a husband at the age of twenty-two!” 

“You- seriously want to marry me?” Haechan said, his eyes widening. 

“Yes,” you said. “Do you seriously want to marry me?” 

Haechan nodded.

Haechan cupped the side of your face and kissed you. His lips were softer and plumper than imagination. You felt like the room was spinning all around you. You were going to get married. You were going to get married!

You said, “Then that means…”

When you pulled away, you were still dizzy.

“You do want to marry me, right? That wasn’t just ‘a sex thing’?” you said, grinning. 

Haechan nodded, grinning. “I do.” 

--

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[vigilskeep]

Oooh could you elaborate on your feeling about Aveline? (Nobody really talks about her)

i think aveline is on paper really quite an interesting character because of her bizarre worldview, in which “rightfully stolen” property counts as a real claim, her guards are people she needs to protect rather than make protect others, and she truly believes herself to be the long-suffering lawful character when first thing after rolling up in kirkwall you can ask her to pull a knife on a merchant so you can get a job smuggling

however on a personal level i find her pretty grating, and her unshakeable belief that she is always in the right even more so. what doesn’t help is the lack of narrative consequences for her corruption (having failed to do her duty for the elves at the end of act 2 who were forced to turn to murder for justice and the qun for safety, because one of aveline’s guards went unpunished for raping their sister) or her inaction (openly making fun of emeric’s three-year investigation into quentin’s murders as soon as it caused her inconvenience, and asking hawke to get rid of the annoyance for her, while the murderer went on to kill hawke’s mother, for which aveline angrily refuses to take any responsibility). it’s almost impossible to make her leave the party at the end of the game, and the only way to really affect her state of mind is to not get her a husband, which in itself is a pretty sexist and dismissive thing for her story to be based around rather than the issues of morality and justice at hand, making her personal quests hard to engage with

sometimes i try to to take her around more, to learn more about her. but i find the entire experience pretty disheartening and usually give up quickly. frankly she’s very judgemental and i don’t like the way she talks to me or my friends

[gotham-ruaidh]

Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be

Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) ||| Also posted at AO3

Chapter 15A: Dreams

Wilmington, North Carolina

Labor Day Weekend, 1988

I'm hung up on dreams I'll never see Help me baby, or this will surely be the end of me…

 - Dreams, The Allman Brothers Band (1969) [click here to listen]

“I’ll be upstairs in just a few minutes. Did you finish your reading?”

Ten-year-old William MacKenzie shook his head. “I was going to, but that’s when Daddy arrived with Jamie and Claire – I mean, Mr. and Mrs. Fraser. And then it was time for dinner, and then - ”

Gillian Duncan MacKenzie bent to kiss her son’s forehead. “All right then. Why don’t you get yourself all caught up?”

William’s eyes darted over to Claire, seated across from his mother at the kitchen table, sipping sweet tea.

“Jamie and I will be here all weekend,” she smiled. “You’ll have plenty of time to talk with him about music tomorrow.”

His face brightened. “OK! See you in the morning!”

Claire couldn’t help but smile as William darted out of the room, footsteps quickly thudding on the stairs.

Gillian turned to face her guest. “He’s so excited. It’s not every day that a bona fide rock star is here in sleepy Wilmington.”

“Thank you for asking him to not tell his friends at school. I’m used to the attention now – ”

Gillian raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Are you?”

Claire shrugged. “Well – no. I don’t know if I ever will be. But one thing that won’t change is how much we value our privacy. So – thank you.”

“Of course, Claire. Privacy and discretion are what I do professionally – how could I not extend the same courtesy to you, when you’re a guest in my home?”

“Still. Thank you.”

A beat. Claire sipped the sweet tea Gillian had made – the same recipe she’d grown to love, those months at The Ridge. Gillian gently pulled Claire’s left hand across the table, studying her rings.

“You said this was his grandmother’s engagement ring?”

Claire nodded. “He inherited it when she died. His sister Jenny kept it for him, until he asked her for it. Called her the day he got home from The Ridge, and went to see her the next day. He gave it to me a few weeks later.”

“A man who knows what he wants.”

Claire smiled. “And I’m a woman who knows what she wants.”

Gillian returned the smile, then focused on the wide band next to the engagement ring.

“I love how solid and simple your ring is. Silver?”

“Platinum. His is the same. Wide enough for an inscription on the inside.”

“I do,” she had whispered. Smiling through the tears. Thinking he looked just a bit ridiculous in his suit. Sliding the band inscribed “Forever My Love” across his knuckle.

“I do,” he had whispered. Eyes burning, full of awe. Agape at the simple gray dress she had chosen, his mother’s pearls around her throat. Sliding the band inscribed “Forever My Heart” onto her finger.

“I am so pleased to…” Professor Quentin Lambert Beauchamp loudly blew his nose into a polka-dotted handkerchief. “Excuse me. I am so pleased to pronounce you husband and wife. Jamie, you may kiss your bride.”

He did. To the applause of the ten dear friends gathered in Joe and Gail Abernathy’s Boston backyard.

“That’s beautiful.” Gillian lay her own left hand on the table, adorned only by a thin gold ring. “Dougal never gave me an engagement ring, and he insisted I have the gold band for our marriage. His is silver. He had just sunk all of his money into building The Ridge, and we couldn’t even afford flowers at the reception.”

“That’s beautiful, too, Gillian. And I understand why you wouldn’t want to upgrade. Because what you have now, is that much more meaningful.”

“I was sitting here, when Joe and Gail staged the intervention.” Jamie looked over at his wife – his wife!! – gazing up into the arbor behind the house. “The vines were heavy with grapes. I remember thinking, how appropriate that I’m looking at what could be wine.”

He pulled her closer against his side, and kissed the top of her head. Careful of the tortoiseshell combs that Jenny had so lovingly placed in Claire’s hair as she got ready this afternoon.

“Ian confronted me in a hotel room in…Sacramento, I think. I had been so wasted on stage the night before, slurring through half the songs. Jenny had come to see Ian, and she was so scared for me. She had already done the research, made a few phone calls. I puked the whole flight across country to North Carolina.”

“It’s always the ones we love who we hurt the most,” she murmured.

“I’m never going to hurt you, Claire. You know that, right?”

She turned to face her husband – her husband!! – and smiled. Reassuring.

“I do. And you know I’m never going to hurt you, Jamie. Right?”

He nodded. Couldn’t help but kiss her.

“Ah!”

Dougal MacKenzie and Alec MacMahon turned the corner, and cheered. “Here you are! Come on – don’t let us have all the fun without you. Can’t miss your own wedding reception!”

Gillian nodded. “I don’t need it. I have the life we’ve built together, and our son, and a man who somehow thinks the sun rises and sets with me. I’ll never understand it.”

Claire swallowed.

Of course Gillian noticed.

“Don’t ever doubt how much he loves you, Claire. I’ve seen you two together – you’re so natural with each other. That’s never going to change.”

She clenched her hand into a fist. Centering herself.

“It’s…it’s just so…intense, with him,” she whispered.

“We don’t have to tonight, Jamie. We have forever, now.”

His hands shook as his thumb softly, softly traced down her neck, across the pearls, and settled into the cleft between her breasts.

“I want to, Claire. I want you so much I can scarcely breathe. I just…”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gillian asked gently. “I can be your therapist, or I can be your friend. But I will listen.”

Claire took a deep, calming breath. “Being on tour – I see now how he developed the addictions. Every aspect of it is so stressful. He feels so much pressure to lead his band, to write music, to live up to the fans’ expectations. And he has to deal with the label and the tour manager and the production guys, and do media, and somehow find time to eat and shower and sleep on top of all of that.” Her thumb twisted her wedding ring. “He’d use the drugs to come up, and the alcohol to come down. And the women to just forget about everything for a while.”

“Are those groupies?”

Colum had organized a small gathering for the band and crew to celebrate the first show of the acoustic tour. No alcohol or drugs in the room – though Claire quickly learned that the rules by no means extended to hallways and bathrooms and storage rooms at the venue.

Jamie squeezed her hand, standing side by side in the corner, both of them holding a can of Tab.

“Yeah. I can ask them to leave, if you’re feeling uncomfortable.”

“No need.” She dropped his hand and quietly approached the four women giggling on the other side of the room.

“Ladies. I’m Claire Beauchamp. I’m with him.”

She turned slightly, looked at Jamie over her shoulder, and then turned back to her audience.

“So?” A girl wearing a strategically ripped Def Leppard t-shirt popped her gum. “That’s not what I heard about the last time he was here.”

Claire’s eyes narrowed. “That was then. This is now. I will say this only one time. If you even think about flashing a boob, or smiling at him, or trying to get him alone? I will end you.”

The girls gaped.

“Tell all your friends here in Albuquerque, please. Are we clear?”

“And now, that you’re there with him?”

Claire smiled. “He’s eating and sleeping a lot better. Has a lot more energy. He so desperately wants to do everything right. And I’m not going to lie, Gillian – seeing him perform the songs he wrote for me at The Ridge, and then being there when he comes off stage, all keyed up from singing and playing the guitar…”

“It sounds like in many respects he’s replaced his additions with you.”

Claire looked up, meeting Gillian’ gaze. “Of course he has. The album and lead single will be called She’s My Addiction. Doesn’t get any more obvious than that.”

“And how do you feel about that, Claire?”

She lay her hands flat on the table. “I’ve never felt more…loved, and cherished, than when I’m with Jamie.”

She frowned and opened her eyes when he stopped brushing her hair, one morning in Minneapolis.

“What – ”

The pads of his fingers swept the left side of her neck, still a bit tender from his kisses after last night’s show. “I bruised you. I’m sorry.”

“Hmm. I’m not.”

She swallowed. “But it’s so, so hard sometimes. He loves me for who I am, but I don’t want to do anything to fuck it up. And he stresses over so much that he doesn’t have to. Gillian, he’s been having panic attacks all tour.”

“My God. Is he seeing anyone to help with that?”

Claire sighed. “You’re looking at her. Thank God I did that psych rotation when I was in med school. I’ve helped him recognize the signs, and he knows enough to tell me when it’s happening so that we can get away and I can help him through it. But I’m not a psychiatrist. I can’t be everything he needs. He has to do a lot of work to explore what’s triggering him, so that he can manage that. Because after we take the break at the end of the year, we’ll be on the road for most of ’89. The label has booked more than a hundred shows.”

“And you’ll be with him?”

“Of course. He’s the air I breathe. I know this sounds insane, but we want to try for a baby next year. That way he can be off the road, off touring, to be with me if the timing lines up.” She sighed. “So I’ve talked to him about bringing a therapist with us on tour. He needs to have that kind of support from someone other than me. Especially when we’re in Europe and he’s playing soccer stadiums and dealing with a next level of bullshit.”

“Do you want some recommendations? Between Dougal and I, we can definitely help you find someone.”

Claire smiled thinly. “That would be wonderful. It has to be someone we both trust. Who can deal with all the craziness.”

Gillian nodded. “Consider it our wedding gift to you. I – we – really want to help you. You know this, Claire – getting sober is hard, but staying sober is so, so much harder. It does and doesn’t get easier with time. Dougal would say the same thing.”

“Do you ever miss it?”

She settled her chin into his shoulder, nestled securely in his lap. Together they watched the cornfields of Iowa glide by, thousands of feet below.

“No. Not really. The pills helped me deaden the pain. And my life doesn’t have that kind of pain at all, now.”

The private plane had four clusters of four seats, two seats on each side facing each other with a table in between. Jamie and Claire always had a cluster to themselves. Ian, his bass tech, Jamie’s guitar tech Arch, and Angus’ drum tech always sat together. Colum kept to himself. Leaving Angus in the final cluster – which he shared with the two groupies he’d been surprisingly faithful to since Albuquerque. He hated flying, but the girls certainly made it easier for him – plying him with snacks, rubbing his back, squeezing him between them in the big seat.

Claire turned slightly, and inhaled at his temple. Kissed his earlobe as he shivered. “I know you miss it, Jamie. And it’s OK.”

His grip tightened on her hip. “You taste so much better,” he whispered. Eyes far away.

Claire wiped the corners of her eyes. “I just love him, Gillian. So fucking much.” She took a deep breath. “I’m so proud of him, for everything he’s done, and for the man he’s worked so hard to become. I’m not going to lie – sometimes it’s so damn hard to deal with everything. With all of his past shit, and how he still lets it mess with his head. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve told him that none of it bothers me. Not the drugs, or the alcohol, or the destroyed hotel rooms, or what is probably hundreds of women. I can’t let any of that bother me, because that’s not the Jamie I know. But Gillian…”

Gillian reached across the table and took Claire’s hand.

“He makes everything so fucking hard sometimes. He starts to spiral, and he worries that I’ll have had enough and walk away. But then we just take a deep breath, and we look at each other, and all the bullshit is gone, and it’s just so easy again.”

“You need a day off!”

Jamie rubbed his hands over his face, exasperated. “I do have a day off tomorrow, Claire. You know as well as I do that there isn’t a show.”

She huffed, hands on her hips. “Not the point, Jamie. I saw the call sheet for tomorrow. You’re meeting with the label, and then with Colum to talk to the merch guy, and then the lighting team, and then you’re doing some local radio spots. That’s NOT a day off!”

He shrugged. “At least we can get dinner together and it won’t be shitty venue food.”

She pursed her lips, trying so hard not to scream. “Do you not remember the panic attack last night? You were sobbing in my arms, Jamie. It was really, really bad. And then you were so exhausted, but you wanted to be a hero and do the show anyway, and then you tripped over your fucking amp when you went on stage and could have broken your arm. Where would that leave us, hmm?”

He reached out to her – and she stepped back.

Not done with him yet. 

“You need rest, Jamie. Your body is going to shut down. And that won’t be good for anybody.”

“Is that your medical opinion, Dr. Beauchamp?”

A hint of a smile. Good.

“Yes. I’m your personal physician. I’m prescribing a day in bed, sleeping.”

He smirked. “OK. But only if you’re in it, too.”

She shrugged. “I’m not making any sense.”

“Yes you are,” Gillian smiled. “You said it’s intense between you – there’s no way it couldn’t be. Set aside his being a musician, and being in just about the biggest band in the world right now. Think about how and when you met. What had happened to both of you beforehand. All the changes you’ve made in both of your lives, in a relatively short timeframe. It’s overwhelming. And being on the road with him this summer had to have just upped that intensity.”

“We’re together non-stop. Which has been great, because we have so much time. We have what nobody else has, and I treasure that, I really do. But it’s also exhausting sometimes.” Claire paused, considering. “Nobody else knows what I’m about to tell you, but it’s another factor. We…we didn’t…” She closed her eyes. “We waited until our wedding night.”

Gillian’s silence was a gift.

“We were both so scared. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I think we were worried that…that it wouldn’t be good, for some reason. And it was good, Gillian. So fucking good. We both cried.”

“You’re everything.” He kissed her nose and cheeks and forehead and mouth over and over and over again, his tears mixing with hers. “My heart is going to burst.”

She hugged him tighter, nails digging into the flames tattooed on his shoulders. “Love you,” she whispered, breathless. “Love you love you love you love you…”

“I don’t need to tell you this, Claire, but I will anyway. It’s been a really good decision to spend so much time together, to really get to know each other, before you were married. Both of you deliberately wanted your relationship to be different from anything you’d known or done before. And now that last barrier is gone between you. So everything has changed, am I right?”

Indianapolis. Married one week. He couldn’t stop smiling at her, standing side stage during the show. She couldn’t stop giggling when he found her after the encore, threw her over his shoulder, and ran to his dressing room. His breath hot against her lips, breathlessly pleading for her to stay quiet, as they loved each other on the sofa and the techs and roadies and catering people and production staff bustled by the locked door.

“It has, Gillian. But in many ways it hasn’t. It feels like yesterday, and it feels like forever.”

New Haven. Married two weeks. The morning after a powerhouse show at the Coliseum. A penthouse suite overlooking the water. She had slipped out of bed in the dark, opened the curtains wide. Watched him watch her as she returned to bed. Held his gaze as they loved each other, dawn breaking over their faces.

“I get that. You’ve introduced another layer to your relationship. Probably the most complex layer that there is.”

Providence. Married two weeks and two days. Holding each other in a bath, Jamie’s hand splayed across her belly, Claire’s nose buried in the curtain of his hair.

“So, be patient with yourself, Claire. Cut yourself a break.” Gillian reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “And just enjoy yourself! My God – what an incredible life you have.”

Claire’s smile was the widest Gillian had ever seen.

“Holy shit. I married a rock star.”

“I heard that!”

And then Jamie was there, smiling, and kissing Claire’s smile.

Dougal hung back in the doorway. Exchanging smiles with his own wife.

“Come on, rock star. You said you’d help me hook up the new CD player.”

Jamie pulled back. Rubbed his nose against Claire’s.

“Hey, Dougal?”

Dougal crossed his arms. “What?”

Jamie stood. Squeezed Claire’s hands. Kissed her wedding ring.

“Love is a much better high than any drug.”

Dougal rolled his eyes. “I’ll put that on the new pamphlets we’re printing up for The Ridge. But the stereo won’t install itself. Help out, and I’ll even let you play that new stuff you brought.”

[holylulusworld]

Jerk next door (6) - Two new players

Summary: You move in next door to a jerk after a bad breakup.

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Characters: Destroyer!Chris, Captain Syverson

Warnings: angst, mentions of past domestic violence (implied), mentions of divorce, mentions of past physical abuse, scared reader, mentions of past alcohol abuse, rueful Andy, mentions of murder

A/N: It's been a while, huh.

Jerk next door masterlist 

<< Jerk next door (5)

“No,” you violently shake your head. “I won’t set foot into his house. Let Quentin come and kill me. It’s better than being under the care of this man.” 

“Miss,” Chris sighs. He’s fucking tired of taking care of other people’s problems. “I’m tired, my head hurts like hell and I haven’t slept for a week. Please give me a break.”

“Oh,” considering his words you look at the stranger in your house again. He looks tired and sick. “Wait, have a seat. Do you want some water? I got not much food left, but I can make you a sandwich.”

“I came here for a reason, miss.”

“Y/N,” you offer a weak smile. “I’m sorry for barking at you. It’s his fault, not yours. You only try to help me.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs and takes the offered seat in your kitchen. “I get that you are mad at Barber. He’s a handful.”

“So, uh-Mr…” you furrow your brow. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Just Chris,” he takes the glass of water you placed on the table and chugs it down. “I’m sorry too. It was a rough month…or rather year.”

Chris closes his eyes for a moment and sighs deeply.

“Maybe you should stay out of this shitshow. I already packed the most important things. I’ll try to start anew somewhere else.”

“He will follow you everywhere you go, miss,” Chris opens his eyes. His blue eyes hold your gaze as you try to find a way to keep him out of your problems. “Quentin Beck is the kind of bastard not letting go. He doesn’t love you but won’t let you live your life without him.”

“He will kill me,” you whisper. “Quentin told me so when I finally found the strength to file for divorce. I embarrassed him by revealing what he did to me. Though, no one was there to help me. They all turned a blind eye to my injuries and his behavior.”

“No man should put their hands on a woman,” Chris sneers. “I will make sure he’ll never get close to you, Y/N.”

“Quentin won’t give up.”

“Let him come,” Chris gets up from his chair because you’re rubbing your arms and your teeth chatter. “You’re freezing.”

“I-I’m scared, is all,” you reply. 

“No. You’re cold,” he shrugs his jacket off and puts it around your shoulders. “You need to calm down. I know Andy was a jerk, but he’s our only chance to keep you safe.”

“I don’t want to hide at his place,” you sniffle. “He’s as bad as my ex-husband.”

“Andy would never hurt a woman,” Chris softly speaks to you. “Laurie got him good. She broke something inside of him. Jerk or not, he will do anything to keep you safe.”

“Promised?” You look up at Chris.

“Promised.”

“Bedroom, bathroom,” Andy nervously points at the bed in his bedroom. “I’ll take the guestroom. This one is bigger.”

“This is ridiculous,” you huff and cross your arms over your chest. “If only you left me alone. I didn’t do anything wrong to make you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, sweets,” he sighs and runs one hand down his face. Andy is fucking tired too. “Please let me at least try to make things up to you.”

“You put me in harm's line!” You throw your hands up. “I finally found a peaceful place and you had to ruin it for me. Even if he believes I left town, Beck will come back. If he sinks his teeth in your flesh, you are his next meal.”

Andy smirks. “Let him come. I’m not the tame and friendly lawyer if you fuck with me.” He cocks his head and watches you sit on his bed. Andy clears his throat and softens his voice. “I changed the sheets, and in the bathroom are fresh towels. I brought all your clothes into the walk-in wardrobe. It’s right through that door.”

Andy points at the door next to the bathroom.

“You can put them on the left side. It’s…empty,” he shrugs when you watch him with curiosity. “A habit.” He adds. “My ex-wife used to occupy the left side. I kinda never changed that. It’s empty since I moved in here.”

“I did the opposite,” you admit. “Quentin used the left side, and I put the silliest things on his side.” You grin. “He would so hate it.”

“Hmm…” Andy nods thoughtfully. “We removed any trace you lived at your house. A friend of mine will take your place. I had an emergency meeting with all the neighbors. They know about you, and Beck. Doris and Peter offered to have an eye on the house.”

“You make it sound so easily,” you wipe your wet eyes. “I used my real name, Andy. Sooner than later Quentin will find my employer, and I’m done for. He will come when I least expect it and…”

You look away. 

“He won’t,” Andy suddenly stands in front of the bed. “I don’t give a shit that he’s a cop. I’m an attorney lawyer, Chris is an ex-cop, and—” 

“And I was the leader of a special forces unit,” another man casually walks inside Andy’s bedroom. “Hello, sugar. Andy told me so much about you.”

“Hi,” you choke the word out, unable to think while crowded by the two of them.

The man holds out his hand. “Oh, she’s shy,” he hums and steps closer to look down at you. He looks even bigger than Andy and Chris. His blue eyes are soft, but his large hand promises more than a friendly handshake if you mess with him. “Captain Syverson, or Sy to you.“

„Hi,“ you squeak as he grabs your hand to shake it. His grip is firm, but you know, this is only a fraction of his strength. “I’m Y/N.”

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” he smirks, still holding your hand. “Andy told me so much about you, but forgot to tell me that you are the sweetest dame I ever laid eyes on.”

“Sy, can you just not?” Chris joins the party. He immediately glares at Syverson, not liking said man is still holding your hand. “We have a lot on our plate. Quentin Beck is sniffing around town. We got to stop him.”

“Let me break his neck then,” Sy grumbles. “Problem solved.”

“We are talking about murder in that case,” Andy ever the lawyer retorts. “We can’t just kill him, okay. All we have to do is convince him that Y/N left town.”

“All we gotta do is rip him a new one,” Chris bites back. “That piece of shit deserves to be punished for the crimes he committed. He’s hiding behind his badge.”

“I did a background check of Mr. Wonderful,” Syverson draws your attention back toward him, and away from Chris. “Y/N wasn’t the first woman he has hurt. Three of his former girlfriends reported him to the police.”

“Let me guess, the reports disappeared,” Chris makes a face. “I told you, he’s a piece of shit and had it coming for a long time.”

“Chris, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we can’t run around and kill random people. Bastard or not,” Andy stops the two men from conspiring. Both are skilled and undoubtedly able to take Quentin down. “We need to do this the right way.”

“Well, no shit Sherlock,” Syverson grunts. “The other women tried to do it the right way. No one helped them. The reports disappeared, and his colleagues made sure that they didn’t try to file another report.”

Andy scowls at Syverson. “I get it. He’s not a sweetheart and we are on our own. Let’s make sure he’ll never hurt a woman without killing him then.”

You rock back and forth while the men decide on your ex-husband’s fate.

Whatever is going to happen, you are too weak to stop them or Quentin…

Tags in reblog.

[fresm-ay]

according to my tradition -

✨️women✨️

I like to think that re!Freddy (Frensis?) would be a preschool teacher rather than a gardener.

og!Frensis will kill her husband when he discovers her secret, re!Frensis after her husband deprives her of the opportunity to become a mother(he beat her). Later re!Frensis will move to Springwood. Poor thing lost everything she ever had..Child, Husband, Home.. Employer would take her to work in Badham preschool and, out of pity for her fate, they would allow her to live in the basement (at least for a while).

"Good old times. Checking out the class work with Nancy and Quentin." I just can't think of suitable names for them

Well, here's my thoughts. What do you think?👀

[chaos0pikachu]

So @doyou000me sent me an ask about the film making of Love for Love's Sake (which I have learned is based on a novel and now I'm very interested in reading it lol) so having watched the currently available episodes the big thing I noticed was the shows use of Aspect Ratio.

"In simple terms, the aspect ratio of a movie is how wide the frame of the movie is versus how tall it is, usually expressed as a ratio. For example, most TVs and computer monitors are 1.77:1 (more often expressed on consumer packaging as 16:9), which means the screen itself is 1.77 times as wide as it is tall. The higher the first number in this ratio is, the wider the screen will be." (source)

I know, nerd math.

Basically you know those black bars you sometimes see on the top and bottom of the screen when watching a film or tv show? That's a director filming in a specific aspect ratio:

(source)

Film makers use aspect ratios in a ton of ways, there's a lot of examples out there from Hateful Eight (Quentin Tarantino), and Dark Knight (Christopher Nolan) where the former used aspect ratio to invoke the film making style of old westerns, while Nolan used a taller aspect ratio for fight/action scenes to give the scene more physical impact.

A recent example that I've seen that I think applies really well to Love for Love's Sake is Marry My Husband:

See how the first scene has black bars above and below? The director is using a different aspect ratio than in the second shot (these are both taken from ep01). What does this signify in the story?

Flashbacks. Flashbacks in Marry My Husband are always filmed in a different aspect ratio than scenes in the "present" storyline of the show. Perfect Marriage Revenge also uses aspect ratios this way.

Love for Love's Sake does something similar but instead of flashbacks it uses aspect ratio to denote between "worlds".

The game world is filmed in a longer aspect ratio than the "real" world which is filed in a different ratio (not a standard full screen but it does have a taller ratio than the game world):

This, so far, has been consistent in the four episodes that are out. We have another return to the "real" world in I believe ep03 and we see this same aspect ratio dynamic.

Another thing I noticed is the "real" world's color saturation is much higher and warmer than the "game" world, but it's also (ironically) much more enclosed - this could honestly be a story choice or a budget issue - and boxed in. Something I don't see discussed a lot in terms of cinematography in BL is the use of Lines and Shapes in film and how they add to the composition of a shot.

I really like this video on the subject though it focuses mostly on animation it's still relevant:

Now if you look at the "real" world scene in Love for Love's Sake we see that the protagonist, before we even know who he is, or anything about him, is in a highly saturated room, warmly lit, but also boxed in:

The warmer saturation denotes a sense of intimacy, which makes sense in a bar setting, but the boxed in frame around him gives us a sense of tightness, tension even, maybe a sense that he feels trapped. We later learn through dialogue he's unhappy with his life and unhappy with the way the novel story he read has played out.

Then, when the scene transitions into the "game" world, the protagonist is in a different aspect ratio, the color grading is now more desaturated and has a higher blue hue to it, the character is also in an open space and filmed front forward facing instead of from behind:

This all works well because the audience knows, even before the character does, they are in another "world" and its very different from their own. It creates to specific aesthetics which help set the worlds apart from one another.

For more on color theory, this is one of my favorite videos on the topic which has more to do with like, hue and saturation rather than "the blue curtains mean xyz" which is a singular and narrative heavy way to focus on color theory instead of how color adds to the tone, emotion, and world building of a piece of media.

I think the first episode of Love for Love's Sake is the best filmed of the episodes so far, the budget starts to chip away in other episodes but I do want to give them their roses b/c they do work within their budget well. There's a lot of interesting visuals used especially with the game pop ups that I really like, and some nice camera work. The editing is a bit weak at times but there's been some good choices too.

I also really liked the scene with Yeo Woon running and how his feet lit up and how that aligned with his affection points going up. The editing for that was well done.

So yeah, those are my film making thoughts on the show for now lol

Check out other posts in the series:

Film Making? In My BL? - The Sign ep01 Edition | Aspect Ratio in Love for Love's Sake | Cinematography in My BL - Our Skyy2 vs kinnporsche, 2gether vs semantic error, 1000 Stars vs The Sign | How The Sign Uses CGI

[like these posts? drop me a couple pennies on ko-fi]

[mystycalypso]

Despite the fact he gets some screen time in the game, what are you two thoughts on quentin?

Also how wild would been if Aaron was adopted by him, instead of what we got in the end of HN2.

Oh my god I'm so sorry Anon I totally forgot I didn't answer this

Which is dumb because every time I saw your ask I remember going "oh this poor fool has no idea"

For context, I (Jack)...have... uh- a non hatred for Quentin

These posts have been buried in- more Hello Neighbor shitposting, but for context, here are some non hatred posts I made about him

Quentin art I made (that's my phone homescreen rn)

And general Quentin stupidity

For context, Anon, when Hello Guest released, it was not the guest that made me interested enough to take look-sies at Hello Neighbor again, it was being drawn to this cowardly beautiful man that I wanted to both kiss and be

I love Quentin. I would kill for this coffee addicted bastard.

But anyway, I think going the adoption route might be interesting for season 2 if for no reason other than A. The best boy and Aaron get screen time, and B. It gives us an ending to Hello Neighbor 2 basically (which is something I don't even know if we have in the current patch)

Also if it means after Aaron gets dragged away from Ravenbrooks to the big city Quentin works in, it explains why him and Nicky never got to- heal per say

Plus I'm not against Quentin taking a fatherly role as uh- as seen in my Quentin Roth theory (which Tinybuild shut down very thoroughly with the "Mr. Peterson's Guest" clip lol)

The only thing I'd say would be holding me back on it is- a reason why. I'd need to see Quentin's side of things in universe rather than just get told he had this deep need to help Aaron and adopt him after it all, yknow? Like, don't expect viewers to have played hn2 and understand Quentin's investigation, yknow?

I don't think the adoption thing is the route they'll take because of that, I mean, they'd basically have to tell the events of s1 and beforehand again just from Quentin's perspective for that.

Alternative thought, it'd be kind of funny if Nicky sees Aaron again, and he's with Quentin, and Nicky's like "who tf is this" and Aaron is like "He saved me from the basement! :D" and Nicky dies because he basically got traumatized for nothing and gets no credit for saving his bff

[dr-chosenberg]

As promised! The design for my Mrs Potterswheel in the AU timeline where she survived her infection and lives to when the show takes place (right) compared to when she died in the regular timeline (left)

Marie-Thérèse Potterswheel

- From her original bio, “in the AU where she lives she still suffered a miscarriage and Clay calls Dr. Potterswheel a babykiller instead. She is still as sweet as the day she and Quentin met but she isn’t particularly keen on giving Orel the time and attention he needs either, it’s too painful. When she does give him advice she tends to advise him to wait things out and not rock the boat. She tells him that good things come to those who wait.”

- Her accent was never unintelligible, it has even softened in the years she’s lived in Moralton. There’s a running gag in the show that nobody can understand a word she’s saying, except Orel.

- She is prone to completely random bouts of crying, Reverend Putty always makes poorly received jokes about how moved by his sermons she must be.

- These are usually a sign that her prescription painkillers have worn off, she will usually be seen in the next scene (if she appears again in the episode) blissfully unaware of her surroundings.

-When she’s in this slurring state, suddenly everyone acts as though they can understand her perfectly and reply to her as though she’s agreed with whatever they’ve said.

- Not too fond of the Christstiens and makes some uncharacteristically strange comments about Dr. Chosenberg, which her husband ignores.

- The episode “Numb” plays out exactly as it normally does. She does not notice that Quentin has lost his handkerchief.

[freneticfloetry]

fic pride friday

I finally get to start a tag game! Saw this one go by in the wild, and though I couldn’t grab the exact post to reblog, I wanted to bring the concept over to my go-to folks.

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

There’s a little slice of Husbands Era from words to get off his chest (911 / 911 Lone Star):

Times like this, TK honestly thinks he lives for the second that Carlos settles back and lets go. He hopes that feeling never gets old — the way he sinks back into his arms, just a bit, and his limbs lose the last of their tension, like he’s found the exact space where he fits and can exhale with his whole body.

There’s this Carlos and Iris truth swap from to build a home (911 Lone Star):

I think you're my new favorite person, she'd said — soft but sure, like it wasn't something wondrous after losing her dad, just laid in his lap like a gift — and he'd swallowed and said the only thing he could think of that might've been worth as much in return. I think I'm gay. She'd turned her head and smiled into his shoulder, slipping her arm around his to slot their fingers together and squeeze. Fine, she'd said, warm and wry and completely without surprise. I'll drop my 'think' if you will.

There’s this Met Gala moment from scenes from an unfinished story (The Magicians)

Really, he'd said flatly, when El had first shared the idea, you want to go as The Little Mermaid. Eliot had rolled his eyes. Well not the neutered Disney version, he'd answered, the Hans Christian Andersen original. In all its forbidden gay glory. Quentin had blinked, thoroughly confused, and El had given him a look he never did decipher. He wrote it as a love letter, Q, he'd explained, soft and sad, to a man he couldn't have.

There’s this moment before a bittersweet reunion from What Baking Can Do (The Magicians)

He's technically seen El… since; there's a copy made of clay back at the cottage, lying silent and too still in Eliot's bed. But this is the form he knows — towering and full of grace, even bent over a workbench, brows drawn together, sifting flour into a big wooden bowl. Quentin's clearly caught him mid-setup, a telltale line of little clay vessels arranged across one side of the table, and it's sort of fascinating to watch the way he's adapted, the duality of the picture it paints — a faded apron slung over some sort of sheer, gauzy shirt that's tied at his side, sleeves rolled at each cuff to the elbow and hands stripped free of rings, the room's worn wood and stone an unadorned backdrop for the drama of the dark crown of gems that still circles his head. It's an image Quentin doesn't think he could forget, but there's the strangest urge to frame it, hang it, label it in bronze: High King Humbled, 2017. Flesh and bone.

There’s this truly unfortunate timing from Confidence Man (What’s Your Number?)

The Imperial March is impossible to ignore in the best of situations, much less mid-cunnilingus, but trying to would be significantly easier without the subsequent knock on the door. She stiffens, fingers tightening in his hair, thighs clamping down around his head like a vice. "Oh, fuck," she moans, in a way that's meant to be mortified but, to his ears and his brain and every one of his nerve endings, still sounds like she's seconds from flying off a fucking cliff. "Ally, I swear to god," he says, locked between her legs, "if I come in my pants with your mother outside I may never maintain an erection again."

There’s this reflection on the past and present from Ashes and Flame (Every You and Every Me) (The Hunger Games)

I want it to be as it was. A purging of everything that haunts me, down to the smallest detail. But when I'm done, there's only space and shadow in living color, more abstract than anything that came before it. A fiery sunset over the Meadow grass, the shape of mockingjay wings. And two silhouettes on the horizon, together but separate, forever moving forward, and backward, and nowhere at all.

And finally, there’s this unbalanced negotiation from By Any Other (Lucky Number Slevin), which is maybe my favorite cold opening to anything I’ve ever written.

"You need a name." She spreads out the stack of takeout menus she's stolen from the front desk, sprawled on her stomach on their third motel bed in a week. The wallpaper is the worst she's seen yet, and is still somehow better than what was in her old bathroom. "What about Indian?" "As names go? It's a little tongue-in-cheek." He flops to his back beside her, scratching at his stomach and squashing half the pile. "I could go for some Chinese." She wrinkles her nose, wrestling the menus free. "No Chinese. I hate Chinese." "You are Chinese." "Yeah, it's tragic, they revoked my membership and everything."

Tagging in @liminalmemories21, @paperstorm, @carlos-in-glasses, @reyesstrand, @rmd-writes, @lemonlyman-dotcom , and @welcometololaland !

[kissorkill16]

Help Me Forgive You: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Aaron reunites with his father again after years.

Meet me at the Raven Brooks cemetery.

25 year old Aaron Peterson had recently received a note from an anonymous stranger. He felt like he recognized the handwriting, but it was still drawing a blank to him.

But despite his reluctance, he went to meet this person.

When he finally got to the cemetery, he walked by a couple of tombstones and memorials of people, he stopped by a familiar grave. He bent down.

Mya Rose Peterson

1973 - 1983

She was a young and lively little girl.

Indeed she was.

"I miss you so much, Mya.", Aaron said to the grave, then he felt a shadow cover his entire body and the grave.

"Hello, Aaron."

Aaron whipped his head around to see whose shadow this was, and he nearly fainted when he saw who it was.

A familiar, muscular, hulking man in a white dress shirt, brown khaki pants, and black leather boots. He didn't look too familiar, but Aaron recognized him even out of his argyle sweater.

It was his father.

He hadn't seen him in years.

Aaron stood up to meet his level. He didn't quite fully reach his height, even as an adult. His father would always be taller than him no matter what.

"Hey...", said Aaron, it felt awkward for him to just talk to his father after being taken out of his custody years ago, but he tried to make it feel normal. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Now it was just stupid. He knew it's been a while.

But his dad nodded. "Yes, it has been. It's been a long while since we've seen each other."

Aaron turned on his heel and started walking away from the grave, "Do you want to walk and talk?"

He nodded and wrapped his arm around Aaron's shoulder.

The two walked around the graveyard in silence, despite saying they were going to walk and talk. However, after a while, Theodore broke the silence.

"How was Germany?"

Aaron looked at his father, "It was kinda cool.", he said, but Ted wasn't satisfied with that answer. "What do you mean by that?"

Aaron awkwardly looked at the ground, "Well, Quentin's been doing okay with raising me, despite having no parental experience whatsoever. He did his best."

Ted smiled, "That's nice.", he said. "It's nice to see he was a better father than I ever was."

Aaron's eyes widened and he pulled away from his father. "Dad, how could you say that?"

"Aaron, you don't need to pretend anymore. You're an adult now, you're allowed to express your feelings.", said Ted. "I know I wasn't the best husband and father, I wasn't even a good person back then. I neglected you after your mother died and locked you in the basement after your sister died, and I kidnapped your friend just so you could have a friend, and I messed up his life too."

Aaron knew this was true, but he didn't want his father to talk bad about himself.

"And before that, I ruined your friendship with Enzo and scared his sister. I killed so many people with my death machine rides and avoided consequences instead of facing them like a man. The only time I didn't run away was when you were given to Mr. Gershowitz. I'm glad he's been a better parent than me. You must've been so happy with him."

Now Aaron couldn't take it anymore.

"Dad, stop it!"

Ted looked at his son with wide eyes.

"After Quentin took me in, I never stopped thinking about you. Despite all you've done to me, our family, to everyone around you, I still loved you and I missed you so fucking much. You were my dad after all!", said Aaron. "I still don't fully forgive you for gaslighting me into thinking that I'm the reason why bad things happen, or for hurting Nicky, or for ruining my friendship with Enzo, but I want to try and forgive you, because I want to believe that you've changed."

His eyes filled with tears, and he wrapped his arms around his father.

"Just help me forgive you."

Ted felt his own eyes fill with tears, and he wrapped his arms around Aaron, burying his face into his shoulder.

"I will."

[celestemona]

What types of jobs do each of the wifes have or had? (Because from what we know so far, Hakim's mama is a teacher in the akademiya and Quentin and Corinne mama is a dancer so This made me wonder which other professionals the others wifes have and sorry for the bad english)

Anon, you don't know for how long I've been waiting for someone to ask me this!! I'm so whipped for my ocs children yes, but I'm a whore for their mamas too hahah

Okay just like you've guessed, Hakim's mom is indeed a History & Literature professor at Akademiya. She's also a mage but I won't elaborate too much about it because she decided to follow only the conventional education path.

occupations: professor, historian, writer, mage

Lyney's wife, as you've mentioned, is a dancer. Currently, she is performing as an aerial silk pro at her husband's shows and she's pretty popular because of her skills.

occupations: troupe member, dancer, aerial silk pro, lyney's assistant

Kaveh's wife's job is to be rich hahahah She doesn't depend entirely on her sister fund because she is the owner of a huge construction & mining excavation company. How do you think she met her husband?

occupations: ceo, ningguang's right hand, kaveh's account manager

I've to say I struggled a lil bit to come up with a background for the Kaedehara's matriarch. However Mama reader here is a highly skilled adventurer. Just like her husband, she loves to travel, explore and she collect artifacts. Our Lara Croft I'd say hahaha

occupations: adventurer, treasures' collector, archeologist

Éveline's mom is a very fluent merchant. I must say I'm keeping the idea of her being a "former smuggler" from one of my previous fanfics for Neuvi. She's pretty smart and she can get a lot of informations around Teyvat which, sometimes, contributes to her husband's work.

occupation: merchant, former smuggler, former informant

Cyno's wife is an eremite and she used to do some illegal stuffs, that's the main reason why she crossed his way. But now that she's married to Akademiya's mahamatra and has two sons with him, she works at tavern as a bartender. Although sometimes she also does some temporary jobs as bodyguard for those who dare to explore the desert.

occupations: self-employed worker, bartender, bodyguard, former mercenary

And finally we have Wriothesley's wife who works together with him to maintain the Fortress of Meropide organized & safe. Most of the documents and archives tasks are her responsabilities. Howeveeer, if the surface needs someone for interrogation or if something serious happens inside the prison and the guards need a hand, she is the one they trust for this service.

occupations: duchess, fortress of meropide's second administrator, interrogator, executer

[joannaliceevans-fanficblog]

Back To You: Prologue

A/N: You and Andy have a long history together. High School Sweethearts, and everyone thought you and Andy would be married.

College happened. Law student for Andy and you a Culinary Student. Both you and Andy made it despite having it being a challenge.

But of course all things don't always go as planned.

**

Years later, you found yourself married to a different man.

The life you left behind, the life you thought made you happy, and the man married wasn't what you thought.

Quentin was your husband. Pure bliss for the most part. Until suspicious purchase was brought home. He started coming home, with expensive bags and dining at places you only would dream of going.

That's when you found out.

So now you, in the middle of a very messy divorce and a soon to be ex who, refuse to let you go.

And run into the man that broke your heart.

**

Lawyer Mob Andy Barber x Baker Reader, Quentin Beck x Baker Reader.

Small appearance from Andy's estranged wife, Cindy.

You never thought this would happen, but it did. This was your last resort and you did everything in your power to save your relationship.

But nothing worked.

And it left you heartbroken and in tears. You told him that if he misses one more event, then it would be done and over with. With broken promise after broken promise, nothing changed.

And so, here you are. Bags packed and leaving behind the only home you had left.

Sitting in your car, he had called you. But you hadn’t picked up the phone. As you backed out of the driveway, your bodyguards came out and knocked on your door. Sighing, you opened the window and looked over to Curtis.

“He’s not going to like this.” Curtis told you.

“Yeah, well I don’t like broken promises. I’m heading to the airport. If he wants to meet me in France, for my competition, then he can. But you and I both know that he forgot and would give me the same fucking old excuse.” You replied, rolling up the window, but Curtis stopped it. You placed your hand away from the button and looked towards him.

“I know. But you need protection. I’ll have Sam and the rest of the guys follow you.” Curtis said. You couldn’t argue with that.

**

That was 4 years ago now and things have changed. What you would have thought he fought for you. But he didn’t. He knew he had fucked up and it was too late to change it. The last you heard, he married a girl from another family and you married a normal man.

No crime.

No coming home late.

Or so you thought.