#✘ ━ ❛ if there′s anything we’re good at‚ it′s handing the future its own ass and then some. ❜ « dyn: team flash. »

[leclsrc]

a charles drabble with love language/s pls.... its all i want its all i have ever wanted

real love baby – cl16

You express love differently, but it’s love all the same.

genre: fluff

auds here... i hope you enjoy it! this is a scheduled post – my brain is so wonky and i absolutely needed to get back into writing before my hands atrophied and i wasted away into dust …. so i worked on a months-old req that i previously scrapped. am i happy w this? well i’ll answer that honestly and say

It happens first when you’re still friends.

Charles gets off a late meeting that’s wormed its way into the late hours of night, costing him hours of rest or training, and the paddock is empty save for staff members setting up for Sunday. He’s still got Sauber merch slung over his arm when he clicks on his car keys—when the lights flash, he notices a shadow by an adjacent car. “Hello?” He calls out, apprehensive. They let anyone into the area these days.

“It’s me,” says your voice, amused at the clear nerves his voice exhibits. “Why’re you leaving so late?”

“I couldn’t leave without making sure everything was set for tomorrow.” There are circles under your eyes, obscured by the lens of your glasses, the ones you wear when you’ve been staring at text or a screen for hours too long. You work a lot in the crux of a season, coordinating investors for Mercedes and making sure money is where it’s supposed to be every single day. “We’re getting budget breach accusations.”

“I planted them,” he jokes half-heartedly, leaning his side against the trunk of your car. You laugh, rolling your eyes. It’s not the funniest joke in the world—it wouldn’t pass at all if he did that at an open mic—but something makes it easy to do so, to throw your head back and affirm his attempt at comedy. 

Charles is so tired—from driving in the morning and results in the afternoon to a meeting that lasted hours and discussed basically his entire fucking future—but he enjoys having you laugh at something he’s said. He doesn’t really know why, just savors the way your necklace glints in the dim light of the parking lot and the leftover lighting from the paddock several metres away. 

“Funniest joke I’ve heard in a while,” you say mutely, sarcastic. Your car is on but you’re not getting in.

“Does Henry not entertain you with jokes of his own?” He asks lightly, smiling. “Henry? Harry? Or is he busy with… what was it, an online rap career?”

“Harvey.” You’re not laughing, and in fact displaying some expression that’s half amusement/disappointment, but he can spot the beginnings of a smile on your lips. “You knew that. And he’s not an online rapper.” Anymore, you leave out.

“Oh, that’s good. Was worried he was out to get Drake’s career.” You raise a hand to threaten him playfully, a genuine laugh escaping your lips. Your teeth flash and your eyes crinkle and his head doesn’t hurt so much anymore. “Appreciate the jokes while you still can,” he says anyway. “My migraines lately have made me very sluggish.”

You blink, reaching into your patterned handbag and producing a tiny bottle of Advil. “Take it,” you tell him, lips pursed. “Can’t have this year’s best rookie having chronic headaches.” You push it into his hand and smile tightly.

“Thanks,” he stutters, his throat dry. “I’ll see you around. With Harvey, maybe. You could introduce us.”

“Hah. Not sure that’s something I’d… I’d really want,” you dismiss quietly, watching him round the space to open his car. Louder, you add, “Let me know when you’re okay.”

He looks at you then downward. Then at you again, smile on his face. “I will.” He raises the Advil and gives it a shake. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” you say, grinning. 

—

The next time it happens (the next time you can both remember well, at least) you’re in the sweet little in-between of being friends and something else. He calls it his courting stage; you, your begrudgingly allowing it stage. At that point things had gone awry with Harvey, since he’d decided to jump back into his pursuit of Soundcloud fame.

“Hey.” You duck into the gym room, your head just in between the door and the frame. Seb sees you, bumps his teammate to catch his attention further; Charles jogs to you and leans against the wall, crossing his arms to hear you continue. “I’m leaving early today. No money issues.” You nod squarely. “Parce que I stole the funds.”

“I warned you. If you keep talking about embezzlement I’m going to have to kiss you,” he whisper-jokes, smiling.

He watches you hide a laugh, visibly flustered and stuttery, and he swears his chest hurts from how much it affects him, how strong his attraction is to you. He’s almost terrified of it, comforted only when you open your mouth to respond: “Are you gonna be in early tonight?”

“I, uh—” He turns to Seb. “We’ll be done in an hour, but I’m driving so I’ll wait around ’til later. Just… I’ve been too sore to properly get these moving for long so I need to rest for a bit.” He wiggles his arms and fingers. “It’s, well. The price you pay for being very muscular.”

“Jokes write themselves with you,” you scoff, cocking your head. “Okay, then. Um—I’ll see you.”

An hour later he leaves to take a piss and dick around while waiting for the dull ache at the nape of his neck to relax, and instead finds you in the Ferrari motorhome, close to sleeping. Your eyes snap open when they hear the pad of his sneakers against the floor. “Oh.” 

“Oh?” He smiles, his heartstrings tugging. “What’s… what are you doing here?”

“Waiting.” You mirror his expression with quiet grace. “I can drive you back, Charles. It’s—you shouldn’t be driving yourself in this condition. I got Andrea to drive your car to your hotel.” 

Despite his protests, he does end up becoming the passenger, and by extension the navigator and deejay, queuing up songs for you both to sing along to. In the unfamiliarity of the city and the dull exhaustion seeping into his bones, though, he’s asleep to a Police song before long. His hand rests softly on the centre console.

At the red light right before the hotel, you interlock your pinkies to wake him up. “Mmmff?”

“We’re near,” you notify, smiling at his sleepy expression.

“Thank you,” he yawns. Then for good measure, “Didn’t know I was in such good hands.”

“You ever gonna stop with the jokes?” You ask amusedly, turning right.

“Not if they make you laugh.”

“They do,” you murmur, fond. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he says quietly, holding your hand fully.

—

Life became a blur of little moments like those after that night.

Sure touches, words of assurance from Charles; little deeds from you. Whispered in French or Italian or English while he wrapped you in an embrace on bad days. A spout of cheers on the better ones. A water bottle with a Post-it: Finish before noon!!! when he’d gone to bed mouthing off about being thirsty. A cup of coffee on the counter the way he liked it on days you both had the time.

Sometimes it would switch: that time you were sick and he showed up to the Mercedes motorhome, Evian and meds in hand every six hours to make sure you were up to sched with your cold medication. That time you wrote him a letter for your third anniversary and watched him wipe tears off his face before he even made it halfway. Another time he organised your flat’s entire bookshelf according to all your standards (only to ask you to move in a week later and redoing the organisation at his place). And another time you gave a speech on Charles at a gala and he accepted the award, again, tearily.

But every action, every word, every joke, every hug, has always been motivated by love. The kind of tender love, that was unfamiliar in the same way it felt so much like home. The kind of love you read about or your parents would send you off to sleep talking about. Love so foolish, but so sure—neither of you have ever needed to doubt for a second. The kind of love so big it should be confusing, but you’ve both come to find it’s anything but, that you always seem to be on the same page, or at least capable of getting there. Closeness, intimacy, friendship—that’s all it’s ever been.

And everything, punctuated with the same sentiment, the same words, ever since the first time:

“Thank you,” he says in one breath, his voice heavy with love, with overwhelm. “Thank you, thank you.” He finds your ring finger and slides the diamond atop it. 

“Anything,” you say, smiling in-between kisses, “anything for you.”

[myimaginedcorner]

HAPPY NEW YEAR: S/MC

WARNING: Potential spoilers for one of S's Good Endings.

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms upon my clothed chest. Clothed in silk and gold, with the best tailors working on it for the big occasion. I’ve never had such an expensive shirt before. Luckily, the palace paid for it.

“S, anything will suit you. You’re just nervous.”

A pair of doubting eyes look at me, melting my heart with one brief glance. They’re deep, they’re precious, big and expressive, open to show me all their feelings stored behind their glass. They’re prettier than gems, worth more than any stone whose name I stole for their description. And what about their secrets… ah, some of them cannot be ever told. They’re mine, and mine alone.  

“Yeah, I know… it’s a big event,” they nod, turning back to their wardrobe. Despite our exchange, we’re both quite calm in our nervous state – calm for the company, nervous for what’s to come.

It’s celebration day in Capital.

Once in a year, our moon predicts the coming of new cycles, its surface painted gold by our star. Once in a year, the night becomes day, refusing to give back the light it steals from its bright sibling. Once in a year, all turns around, Nature preparing for a new beginning. Once in a year, all humans go outside to watch the world go back in time. It was, it is, and it will be, as long as creatures remain curious.

There are traditions, for such dates. One of them being the main cause of our quick breathing.

Approaching S, I wrap my arms around their waist, pressing a cheek against their back.

“You’ll do amazing,” I let out a whisper and a sigh, followed by a quiet laugh on their part.

“Thank you for the trust,” they answer, placing their warm hands upon my own, caressing my naked skin with their soft fingers. I hear their heartbeat getting slower, stable. It always works like that when I’m around.

“You don’t need it. You’re ready.”

Shaking their head, S smiles, trying to glance towards me.

“I am, with you by my side,” they reply.

In the big plaza at Capital’s centre, a podium waits for us in this night. A place where monarchs gave their speech about Hero’s bright future, reciting texts that Seers had made upon predictions of our Fate. It’s a tradition that has happened every year. And yet, this year, it’ll be a little different.

“How can I leave Their Majesty alone tonight?” I chuckle, letting them turn around to get myself caught in a mutual embrace.

“You cannot, my Saviour,” they smile wider, pressing their forefront against my own.

The war has ended. Now, with S as ruler of these lands, it fell upon me to stand by their side, to be that guiding voice the Seers no longer are. A hope found in the dark, that’s what the people call me. A ray of light when tensions brought a battle to their walls.

“Saviour sounds so pompous…” my mumble makes S giggle, squinting their eyes.

“I think it sounds quite epic.”

“You heroes have your own worldview.”

They laugh again, and I finally smile. I like to see them so relaxed, so happy. Despite the new responsibilities, I’ve noticed that there’s more of it now than before, title and prophecy weighing as heavy burdens on their back. There’s no more prophecy left, now. And their title has changed. New duties, yet new ways to help. And a new freedom given in their times of leisure.

“We should escape after the speech,” S says to my lack of surprise. I knew they would, it’s part of their core personality.

“You’re a big fan of running away, my lord,” I point out, cheeky in my voice, met by a roll of eyes that brings a chuckle.

“You say so only because you’ve seen me escape twice.”

“Those two occasions have been defining, darling.”

“It wasn’t even my fault, once!”

“Debatable.”

Showing their tongue to me, the monarch pauses. Then, leaning closer, they press their soft lips against my own, demanding compensation for my words. I smile, giving in gladly. I love them being needy.

Passing my hand over the golden curls, I try not to dishevel their styled hairstyle, fixed in one place to look presentable under a heavy crown. Another hand grips on their clothing, pulling them slightly forwards. We close our eyes, our bodies touching, our heartbeats sounding like one whole. For long and heated moments, all is still, not a new sound breaching the wall of our shortened breathing.

Some palace worker drops a tray behind the door. The sound, echoing through the vast corridors, hits our walls as an alarm, making us jump and part, our arms instantly reaching for our weapons. Blinking, we exchange glances. Then, we laugh.

“Bad habit,” S shakes their head, brushing my cheek with their warm fingers.

“Necessary one,” I smile, giving it a quick shrug. As much as peace might come, you never know how many enemies keep living.

“Not with me here!”

I giggle.

“Ah, so true.”

We finally get dressed, both wearing tones to match each other’s colours. Adjusting one last time their coat, the monarch looks at me, stretching a hand, inviting me to join them in the big procession. I take it, giving them a nod. I’m ready, just like they are. Tonight, not only we announce the start of a new era – we also make it known that we’ll be greeting it together.

My second hand quickly rubs a hidden pocket, checking for a small ring to be in its due place.

Yes. Together.  

[michaelbranch]

A Brief Summary of Ideas: Discipline is Destiny

*These summaries are kept intentionally very brief, just hitting what I consider some of the important/interesting takeaways, most word-for-word or paraphrased. My goal is also to stick to ideas/principals that might guide others (or my future self) in deciding the value of a read (or re-reading). T = takeaway, Q = Question

Discipline is Destiny: The Power of Self Control

Author(s): Ryan Holiday

4 Cardinal Virtues:

Courage

Temperance/Discipline

Justice

Wisdom

The virtues are interrelated and inseparable, yet each distinct. Called “cardinal” because they guide us, like a compass. Virtue is something we “do”. Words don’t matter, deeds do.

“Freedom is the opportunity for self-discipline.” -Eisenhower

2 selves in a constant battle: The “can” vs. the “should”.

Temperance is not deprivation, but command of oneself.

When you have trouble waking up, remind yourself what is at stake.

The best way to master the morning is to have mastered it the night before.

The pleasure of excess is always fleeting.

“Treat the body rigorously, so that it may not be disobedient to the mind.” – Seneca

All self-discipline begins with the body.

Who can be free when they’ve lost the freedom to abstain?

The less you desire, the richer you are, the freer you are, the more powerful you are.

“Outer order, inner calm.” – Gretchen Rubin

There is a compounding power in consistency.

We’re fit to tackle the big problems only if we do the little things right first.

That is done quickly enough which is done well enough.

We don’t rise to the occasion, we fall to the level of our training.

Presentation counts. And so do other peoples feelings. It’s not everything, but you ignore it at your peril.

“Make yourself do unpleasant things so as to gain the upper hand of your soul.” – W.E.B. Du Bois

Sometimes the harder choice is to rest. Load management.

Often the best way to manage the load is to share it.

Help others carry their loads too.

“People pay for what they do…and they pay for it simply: by the lives they lead.” – James Baldwin

True self control means moderation not just in what we do, but also how we think, how we feel, how we comport ourselves.

No one lasts very long if they are afraid of change, and few are able to change if they are afraid of feedback or making mistakes.

Greatness is not just what one does, but also what one refuses to do.

The main thing in life is to keep the main thing the main thing.

In a world of distraction, focusing is a superpower.

Everything we say yes to means saying no to something else. To rebuff one opportunity means to cultivate another.

Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.

“Do the hard things first.” – William Stafford

Losing is not always up to us, but being a loser is.

Anyone or anything that offers you an escape should be viewed with caution .

Pain can be an indicator to make a change.

Don’t just think about what a certain pleasure will give you, think about what it will take out of you.

Discipline is not a punishment, it’s a way to avoid punishment.

When we are offended, we are complicit.

Someone else’s lack of self-control is not a justification for abandoning our own.

Nearly every regret, every mistake has one thing in common: Somebody lost control of their emotions.

An expert on speaking also knows when not to do so.

Can you trust yourself enough to stand alone?

Ambition is good, it just must be tempered.

Money isn’t good or bad. It’s a tool.

Nobody is as good as they could be.

Routine is an essential tool in the management of time and the suppression of those negative forces of distraction, procrastination, and laziness.

What does matter is that you gave everything, because anything less is to cheat the gift.

“Tolerant with others, strict with yourself.” – Marcus Aurelius

None of us are so perfect that we can afford to spend much time questioning other people.

“The nearer a man is to a calm mind, the closer he is to strength.” – Marcus Aurelius

Don’t beat yourself up, build yourself up.

A person who doesn’t know how to disengage, to cut their losses, is a vulnerable person.

It’s not about what we do, it’s about how we do it and, by extension, who we are.

The paradox of success: Precisely when we think we’ve earned the right to relax our discipline is exactly when we need it the most.

Life is for the living. We are meant to be up and doing.

[lauranyx]

My Stray Kids Fanmeet Experience

So i saw skz for the first time in real life the other day (jan 202023 to be exact :p) and i wanna write my whole experience so that i can look back at this in the future cuz my memory is shit 😅

It all started last year 2022 around Nov/Dec when bench announced that they'll have a bench x stray kids fanmeet this Jan 2023 (excite excite) so obv i just HAD to get tickets. ITS STRAY KIDS HELLO?

minor detour for some of that extra context lol:

I got into skz mid to late 2021 and ofc it was felix with his deep ass “cooking like a chef” yt short that sucked me in. From then on i just got hooked into their content and just them in general. Really nice to see a grp thats around my age doing something amazing like what theyre doing now.

Anyway! Back to my fan meet xp

So last yr i saw the announcement and got all majorly excited. At first i was thinking of getting VIP tickets. I was actually willing to spend 8k for a fanmeet and a chance to receive a poster from them. But then i saw the lines in bench and i was like,, hell naw! I aint gonna be putting myself through that. Y’all can wait in line for that imma spend my time elsewhere. So i waited for the promo period to get tickets for lower box instead. This was only 4k with a chance for a bye wave opportunity (no physical up close interaction like shaking hands or anything but at least u get to see them closer up). I was totally fine w this since i spend less and since im not going for what majority (who can afford) want, less ppl to deal with/wait in line for.

Now.. i went through s t r u g g l e just to claim my ticket after buying my stuff from bench. Dont really wanna retype everything since ive already shared w my friends so imma just attach screenshots of my rant

(Screenshots here)

Now, after that whole ordeal, is the new year and i honestly forgot there was a raffle. Also can i just say, thank goodness ate girl (for those that dont know ate is filipino for sister that we use even for non relatives.. kinda like noona/unnie) was kind enough to send me my code that night so i was still able to enter my code for the raffle to win a bye wave opportunity. Cuz if not… i wouldnt have seen skz up close😿

Jan 12 day of the bye wave winners announcement: I checked my email around morning and noon; nothing. So i was like ayt, i didnt win. I’ll still get to see skz tho irl w decent seats.

BUT THEN

when i checked my email again in the evening- actually i didnt purposefully check my mail; i just saw the push notif on my phone. Something like “STRAY KIDS WINNER, congratulations!” and I FREAKED THE FUCK OUT. Like OH MY GOD. OH. MY. GOD!! I WON?!?!??? Suuuper ecstatic. Kept squeeling and shit. I could not even.😶😱🤗😵🥴🫠🤪🤪🤪

After i was able to calm down, I immediately let ate girl know if we could meet up earlier so i can get my receipt back so i can have no trouble on the day of the fanmeet when i claim the raffle. She was nice enough to agree and meet up earlier and it was nice that she seemed happy for my win (she also bought lb tix) kinda regretful i didnt try to be friends w her but im shy so whatever. I just want receipt so i can see the bois😛😁😁😁

Cut to day of fan meet. Wait no- actually.. the week of the fanmeet. The monday of that wk is when i met up w ate gurl to get my receipt. Friday was the fanmeet. In between i was tryna decide my outfit (that i dont have a pic of but whatever. i’ll describe it nalang) which ended up being a kinda loose white tank top with a green plaid long sleeve on top then dark grey/black slim jeans. Add in a couple of accessories ( choker, chains, earrings) and we’re good to go. Oh i also had on my hidden high heel highcut black sneakers (or at least i think theyre sneakers; can never remember fashion shtuff)

In case it wasn’t obvious i was fully planning to go on my own since my friends/cousins said they couldnt (busy or broke) so whatever. BUT THEN my friend, day before the fanmeet- night before actually- was like “ hey! Joke lang im actually going to the meet” so i was like “omg yay!” Not like that exactly but yeah. Same sentiments :p

I asked my friend if we could meet up on fri and she said sure. She’ll just be w her friend who got her the ticket.

Now! We can finally cut to the day of the fanmeet. Claiming for raffle winners are from 10am-2pm then theres an orientation @3pm so i went to moa around 12-1230, got my photo cards (chan, leeknow, & hyunjin) and the wristband showing me as a bye wave winner. Went around moa, had lunch in jollibee, waited around in my car for my friend to arrive around 4, 5pm. Ate again in ikea resto then we finally went to the venue.

While lining up we made friends w another stay who gave out some freebies (ngl i forgot her name🥲) she was sweet. I was kinda stupid and decided to split up from my friend (cuz there 2 lines and the one i went to was shorter but my friend didnt follow so 🙃☹️) so i ended lining up alone when i told her that i wanted to meet up so i wouldnt line up alone lol. Anyway, i got inside moa arena went to my seat in lb 221 and got ready for the fanmeet.

The fanmeet started around 7pm (tho gates opened at 5) it wasnt fully packed inside but there were still a LOT of Stay that attended. Tho i think gen ad was fully packed.

Honestly everything happened so fast that if i didnt take videos and didnt see the vids that others have posted online, i woulda forgotten everything but i know i enjoyed every minute of it😁

So first off skz opened w God’s Menu then the host, Sam Oh (who i know of because she used to be on radio and i loved listening to her shows then), introduced them and on the programme went.

The kids played some jenga w missions, whisper challenge, dance replay challange, domino challange, paint a shirt that was raffled out to the audience) call w a fan(that didnt work out cuz of cell service issues) also i didnt quite get that WE had to call the numbers of the phones in front of the skz members so i didnt really try until it was too late. One fan was able to connect tho but it didnt really work out too well. Im glossing over these and might have mentioned them in the wrong order but thats because there are tons of vids out there about these so i won’t go into detail.

At the end of the fan meet skz performed Case 143 and we moved on to the giving out of signed posters THEN my long anticipated bye wave opportunity. So while the poster receivers were getting ready so were the bye wavers. There was an usher of sorts holding a sign for us to recognize and follow to the exit. The staff told us that no pics/vid was allowed😕 sucks but i was planning to sneak a vid if possible. Others also tried im sure of it. I was 15/200 in line. Unfortunately because i was so close to the front and they were ushering us to the stage pretty fast, i couldnt set up my phone to video on time. No matter tho. There was a barrier that was too high for the phone in my front jean pocket to even capture anything so it wouldve failed anyway.

Going up the stage felt so rushed even tho the videos showed that we werent even walking that fast. But it felt so fast that i couldnt even tell you what order the kids were in when i was waving bye to them. Thank god for other Stays tho so imma put their line up here so i can recall my experience better

They were grouped by twos behind some barriers that looked like kiosk stands from left to right (tho we entered right and left the stage left) it went

Chan - Lee Know | Changbin - Hyunjin | Han - Felix | Seungmun - I.N.

We were like 5ft away from them kandhaksbskabxj

Ok so first i saw was IN and i gotta be honest i cant remember the experience 😭😭 id like to say we made brief eye contact but im not sure. I think i saw that he was looking at the ones behind me so i moved my eyes to Seungmin. Again i cant remember anymore so idek what actually happened here

Now Seungmin, bb, i swear we made eye contact and i think i shocked him with my hair cause his eyes widened and mouth opened wider while looking at me aidbsidbdlaj. Context: i have a shaved head. Tho im in the middle of growing it out. My last shave was mid Dec last yr so my hair at this point is about an inch to an inch and a half

Lemme just insert here that i COULD NOT stop smiling

Next was Felix and oh. my. GOODNESS GRACIOUS!!!!! We made the looongest eye contact ever!!! wodbsisbdb SWEAR!! At least 2 seconds! It was glorious~ And his face was just so beautiful and his smile was angelic and he may not be my bias but he lives rent free mehn. Rent. Free. Period.

Ayt so Han. My bb, my bias. I feel so bad cause i think i got so caught up w looking at felix ( making fucken 2 second eye contact) that i think Han saw me not looking at him so he went on to say bye to the ones behind me already😖😣😔😢😭 tho i did try to catch his eyes but no such luck cause i had to keep moving

Moving on, it was Hyunjin. Very brief, my encounter with him. Again i think i spent too long looking at Felix that it just pushed back the rest to skip over me causing me to miss meeting eyes with the rest. But Hyunjin 👌 also he be the tallest of the grp

Same thing with Changbin tho i really did try my best to look at them whenever they were more or less directly in front of me. The size of this man tho! Batak! So buff 💪 i just wanna feel… all of it👀 in a non sexual way ofc😶 unless? 😏 jk (or am i🤔)

Anyway!

Lee Know is so pretty like wtf . But again he was already looking at those behind me😞 and i had to keep the line moving so.. sad=me Lee Know is my bias wrecker pa naman🫤 i really love his relationship w Han whether its just friends or whatever it is I just love seeing the interactions. (Ngl tho,, the fan edits of minsung that i see Stay post? Mmm is something alright)

Bang fucken Chan DOE! Maybe cuz he’s last idk. But he made it a point to look at me in the eyes😍🥰 made me soo happy~ and his smile! And dimples! My gosh he’s just adorable☺️😊🫠🫠🤭 i just wanna be your friend man. Actually i just wanna be friends with all 8 of them bdkajxhak

Moving on.

After all this we were ushered out of the arena and I decided to loiter a bit outside before i went back to my car. Fangirled like crazy. Then promptly went back to the hotel. I fangirled again when i saw my cousins at the hotel roofdeck cuz i couldnt just keep this in mehn i had to let it out and share my joy.

Later in the night i found out that skz stayed a bit longer to jam w the crowd while Doodle was playing. Kinda jealous but i got to see them up close so im content for now.

The upcoming concert in March tho.. i NEED to get sound check and vip tix. I just gotta💪 heres to me, hopin’ i get the tickets i want🤞🤞

[wolint]

FRESH MANNA

TERRORISM

Psalm 27:1

Terrorism has become prevalent in our world today. There are all kinds of terrorists operating in all sections of society.

Definitions of terrorism are usually complex and controversial, and, because of the inherent ferocity and violence of terrorism, the term in its popular usage has developed an intense stigma.

Terrorism is the calculated use of violence to create a general climate of fear in a population and thereby bring about a particular objective.

Any act that incites fear, panic, violence, oppression, hatred and death at a targeted group of people is a form of terrorism. The aim of terrorism is usually to bully a society or culture into cooperating with the demands of the terrorists. In some cases, the carnage is inflicted for its own sake or as a punishment or an act of revenge.

God is in control of the world, and one day He will judge and punish the wicked that instil crippling fear in people. When the Bible says God protects us from danger, it sometimes means that God protects us from physical danger but always means God protects his people from the spiritual danger of losing their souls to Satan as Matthew 10:28 states.

Anyone can be a terrorist given the situation or opportunity. We have neighbours who terrorize others, and spouses terrorizing each other or their children.

We see this in the book of Acts, especially in 9:1-22. How Saul, who became Paul terrorised Christ-followers. This is religious terrorism at its height.

How about today? Certain sectors of society are being terrorised by a minor group over religion, families, marriages, gender, beliefs and anything they can think of.

Whatever happened to freedom of speech and opinions?

Hebrews 12:14 says we must strive for peace with everyone!

Society has created such violent and panic-filled situations that so many are living in direct opposition to Matthew 6:34’s instruction of “don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”

We must not allow terrorism of any kind to cause us to panic about what might happen, but learn to depend on God in prayer and defence and to base our confidence on His ever-present protection. We can only do this by making a conscious effort to not think about what we can’t control and to think only about what we can control. Fretting about the unknowable future is paralyzing and debilitating.

throughout Israel’s history, they were not encouraged to attack civilians instead of soldiers, as modern terrorism does. And the Israelites were frequently reminded that their limited, one-time-only orders to attack were mostly because of the wickedness of their enemy, not their superiority according to Deuteronomy 9:4–6.

Schools are terrorizing parents and families for not submitting to their instructions, just as other sectors are terrorising society and people for not toting and submitting to their ideologies.

We’re all seeing and looking evil in the eyes today but such evil refuses to allow us freedom from its influence and control, even when we try our best according to Psalm 34:14 to look away, they come in our faces making it almost difficult to see anything else.

Proverbs 24 talks a lot about evil terrorism and encourages us to be envious of them, their comeuppance is at hand.

God condemns the shedding of innocent blood and those who use violence against the helpless and inoffensive as seen in Proverbs 6:16-18. Let's overcome evil with good.

PRAYER: O Lord, You have heard the desire and the longing of the humble and oppressed; You will prepare and strengthen and direct my heart and overcome evil with your goodness in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

Women of light international prayer ministries

[nojey]

fans

dream x streamer!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 2.4k

warning(s): cursing, failed relationship, throwing things out of anger

synopsis: (y/n) and dream met through a mutual friend and their own friendship begins to blossom on its own. they start talking more and more and the feelings they have for one another grows so much more than either of them imagined. but as they stream together, they realize how much hate they’ve started to get and rethink whether or not they should be together or not.

looking back on it, meeting dream was one of the best days of your life. that day, your friend, sapnap, had introduced you to one of his friends and from that day forward, a beautiful relationship bloomed. not a single one of either of your viewers knew you two had become friends and it was nice; keeping something to yourself from a whole community that knew almost everything about you. you both went from talking every once in a while, to every week, to every other day, to almost all day, everyday. you grew to know pretty much everything about each other, where he grew up, how his childhood was like, everything from his favorite color to what he feared the most. and as you got to know him more, your feelings for him just grew so much more than you had ever imagined. and you hoped he felt the same way about you.

when he asked you if you wanted to facetime, you were shocked. you guys were only ever either in a discord call, regular call, or texting. granted it had been about 7 months since you both became friends, but you didn’t need to know what he looks like. you like him for the person he is, how caring and attentive he is to his friends, how witty his personality is and how cocky and confident he is. you like him for the passion he has in his heart for the people and things he loves. you never had to see his face to know these things about him. but because you knew this was a big step in your friendship, you accepted. him even asking you to facetime meant so much to you. 

he called you with his phone facing the ceiling and you had propped up yours so your upper body was on full display. “clay, you know you don’t have to show me your face? if you’re not ready to, you don’t have to.” you told him. “i’m more than ready to show you what i look like, (y/n). you’re an important person in my life and i want to show you.” he replied. “okay.. if you’re really sure. i just hope you know that whatever you look like, it will not change my opinion of you.” you assured him. “i know, (y/n).” he chuckled. “which is how i know i’m ready to show you.” you smiled. your heart warmed knowing that he trusts you this much. “whenever you’re ready, clay.” you said. “close your eyes,” he said. you did what he asked of you and you heard shuffling. he let out a breath, grabbed his phone and propped it up so you could see his face. 

“you can open your eyes now.” he said. you slowly opened your eyes and your breath got caught in your throat as you fully saw him. “wow..” you whispered, still examining his face. “you’re really pretty, clay.” he started blushing and said, “stop staring, you’re just going to fall in love with me.” laughing a bit. you started blushing too and looked away. both your reasons for blushing may have been different, but you knew you were blushing because what he said was true. 

for the rest of the night you both stayed up until 3am talking about anything and everything, getting to know each other more than you already did.

the day you both streamed together was about 4 months later. the internet went crazy. your viewers and his had absolutely no idea you two had known each other but they saw the way you two talked to each other; they knew you sounded like you were talking to your soulmate. you didn’t have to watch what you said, you laughed out to your hearts content, you both teased each other in such a flirtatious manner that it didn’t take them long to start thinking you guys were in a relationship. 

but with the people who supported you, there were twice as many people who hated the idea of you two together. at first it was bearable, neither of you cared about the hate because you were happy with where you both were with each other. clay was confident that you felt the same way about him that he had for you. he fell in love with you and you knew you had fallen in love with him too. 

a few weeks after your first stream together, he asked you if you wanted to fly to florida to meet him in person and you immediately said yes. you started packing your bags and by next week, you were on your way to meet the guy of your dreams. 

when you landed, he was already there waiting for you and when you got to baggage claim you saw him and immediately recognized him. you ran up to him and gave him the tightest hug ever; you were finally in his arms. the height difference was evident and he had to lean down a bit to hug you but he felt so content with you being there, in his arms. 

“you’re really here..” he whispered. “i’m here, clay. i’m here.” you assured. tears started slowly falling down your face and you buried your face deeper into his chest, taking in the warmth that was filling you. clay started crying too, thinking how lucky he was to be able to hold you close to him.

the day after you flew in was the one year mark of you two becoming friends so you went out to celebrate. throughout the day you guys reminisced back to the nights you both stayed up till the sun rose just talking and created new memories as you adventured through orlando. when it was around 3pm clay drove you to the beach to witness the sunset and you arrived just when the sun was kissing the water. you looked around the beach and saw no one but a beautiful set up with roses on the sand. you looked at clay with a surprised expression, he smiled, took your hand and lead you to where the roses laid. he brought you to stand in the middle of it and took both your hands in his,

“(y/n), when sapnap introduced us i never knew you would be such an important person in my life and i couldn’t be more grateful for you. you have helped me through my darkest times, celebrated with me in my happiest, been patient with me when i was being insufferable, stood by me during the most boring days and acted like you were having a blast when it was only just us talking. you’ve shown me that i can let myself be who i am without caring what any other person had to say about me. there’s so many words that i can’t put together right now because that’s how you make me feel. you make me feel so nervous when i’m around you and all the words in my head just get mixed up and i never know what to say. but i do know that right now, i’m trying to ask you on a date. so (y/n), will you go on a date with me?” by the time he was done with his speech you were close to tears. “of course i’ll go on a date with you clay.”

the night of your date had been the most magical night of your life. in the day you both went to disneyworld and at night he brought you to a hill top to, once again, watch the sunset while you both ate dinner on the hood of the rental car he got. everything was so perfect, it was the best date you’ve ever went on. 

he was an absolute gentleman, not letting you pay for your things, opening the door for you, pulling you closer to him when someone got too close to you, treating you like you were a princess and you couldn’t have asked for a better guy to be with. 

after you both finished your dinner you just laid down on the hood of the car and stared at the stars, talking about a future you wish had come true. that night you shared a kiss that would be remembered through the horrid months to come.

the day you left orlando, you didn’t think it would be the last time you ever saw clay in person. when you got home you talked like normal, already speaking about a second date the next time either you or he visited. you both missed each other like crazy and you believed you would see each other very soon.

you streamed together more often and no one was blind to the smitten words you both shared, to the adoration dripping in your voices. so many people hated it and you never understood why, was it because they thought you weren’t good enough for him? because they were so protective over him? did they just hate you? so many questions filled your mind when your phone ringing brought you out of it. you reached for your phone and saw that clay wanted to facetime. you answered with a smile on your face, “hi clay!” but it soon dropped when you saw the solemn look that fell upon his. “is everything okay?” you asked. he sighed and said, “we need to talk.”

and everything fell apart.

the next words that came out of his mouth broke your heart. “i don’t think we should continue dating, or maybe even being friends.” you could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked around your room, trying to understand why this would come up all the sudden. “what do you mean?” you asked, slightly laughing hoping he was playing some sick joke on you. but when you kept looking at his serious face, you understood he wasn’t and your tears finally fell. he looked at you and his eyes glossed over. 

it hurt him knowing he was hurting you; the most important person in his life, the person he believed he would get married to and grow old with, the person he stayed up, losing sleep for just to get to know because you were worth that and a million more. 

“i know you see all the hate we’re getting. and that’s only us streaming together. what happens when they find out we went on a date or if we do start dating, what would the fans say?” he said, no longer looking at you through his screen. “why do you care about what they’ll say about us?” you whispered. “look at me, please.” he slowly looked back at the screen to see your face full of tears and that’s what finally broke him.

“our fans. they hate seeing us together, we can’t disappoint them. we can’t dissatisfy them. i know your fans mean the world to you and mine mean the world to me too.” he said, wiping his tears away, wishing he could just wipe yours, kiss your cheek and tell you everything would be okay. “but we can make it work, we won’t stream together as much or at all anymore. we can be like how we were before they knew we were friends! we can make it work clay..” you said. he started getting frustrated, just wanting this to be over with so he didn’t have to see you so hurt anymore.

“i can’t keep going on with my fans hating the relationship i’m in (y/n)! i can’t keep seeing my fans hate you because of me! i can’t keep making my fans mad at me because i have a stupid little crush on you!” he raised his voice. the last sentence hurting you more than anything. and he saw that in your facial expression, immediately regretting it. 

“no, (y/n). i- i didn’t mean it like tha-” you cut him off. “a stupid little crush? is that all i was to you clay? a stupid little crush? so what, that whole year we spent getting to know each other was you just having a stupid little crush on me? you asking me to fly to forida to meet you, was that you just having a stupid little crush on me? me actually flying all the way to florida to meet you, did you think i just had a stupid little crush on you? did you think me saying yes to going on a date with you was me just having a stupid little crush? what, did that date mean nothing to you? did that kiss mean nothing? did you not mean anything you said to me the night you asked me on that date? because i meant every single thing i said to you clay. you’ve impacted my life so much in such a good way, but i guess you didn’t feel the same way. was i just a joke? just someone to play with while you were bored?” you asked, not wanting to believe what he was saying. 

“no, that’s not what i meant.” he sighed. “then why can’t we work things out!? i don’t understand, clay. if you really did mean everything you told me on that beach then why aren’t you trying harder for us?” you asked, disappointment dripping through your voice. “because i just don’t think we’d work out okay!” he yelled at you. neither of you spoke, just looking at each other. he saw the nasty glare and look of hurt wash over your face. “that’s all you needed to tell me.” you whispered. 

you hung up and as soon as the call was disconnected you sobbed. you cried your eyes out. the guy you were in love with made you believe he wasn’t in love with you. you were absolutely devastated and you didn’t know if you’d ever be as happy as you were with him.

---------

in florida, sat a man with his phone clutched in his hands, tears streaming down his face that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon. he whispered, “what have i done?” he screamed, he threw things, broke picture frames, punched the wall. but doing all those things would never bring you back to him.

---------

twitter

(y/n): hey everyone! i think i’m going to take a break from streaming and all social media for a few months. i don’t really want to go into detail right now but maybe if i come back i’ll explain everything. until then i hope all of you stay healthy and hopefully i come back eventually, i love you all :]

————

authors note:

you guys!! there will be a part 2, send me an inbox or a message if you want to be on the tag list !!

[uwuwriting]

Tamaki, Todoroki and Shinsou  in a secret relationship....and how they got caught.

Request: Hello I love your blog and since your requests are open I would like to request Tamaki Todoroki and Shinsou being in a secret relationship for a long time and how they got outed. If you could write something similar for Semi, Akaashi, Kenma and Sakusa from Haikyuu you would be a blessing. I love you!!!! - anonymous

Awww of course I’ll write for the Haikyuu boys as well. I’ll write later this week or the next and since its almost midnight here HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHINSOU!!!! I have a special soulmate au as I usually do for my husband!!!! I’m sorry I’m not getting to those soulmate aus quicker 😣😣😣😣. Love yaa.💖💖💖💖

rules 

warnings: fluff

Amajiki Tamaki 

-He’s so shy omggg.

-How did you manage to get him into a relationship???

-He loves you to the moon and back. 

-Would do anything for you. 

-You two were in the same class all through out high school and during your second year he asked you out. 

-Okay not exactly. 

-You were studying in the library together during a really bad storm when the lights went out. 

-Loud lightning followed and you jumped out of your skin. 

-You were terrified of lightning and being paired with complete darkness you were petrified. 

-Now Tamaki had had a crush on you since early last year and seeing you so terrified and vulnerable he pushed through his anxiety for a split moment and wrapped you in a hug, stroking your hair soothingly as he tried to calm you down. 

- “I-I’ll p-protect you. I-I w-won’t let a-anything h-hurt you..... ever.”

-That’s how your relationship began basically. 

-He comforted you and kept you safe, shielding you from your fears. 

-Everything else is history. 

-Now you are both third years in your respective hero studies with a bright future in front of you. 

-Your relationship has been kept a secret mainly because both of you don’t like making your private lives public. 

-Only Nejire and Mirio know. 

-Surprisingly they have kept it a secret. 

-Fatgum has a suspicion that Tamaki has someone in his life, someone really important. 

-So important he had called in one time claiming that he had an emergency and wouldn’t make it to the agency. 

-When Fatgum asked, Tamaki began stuttering and mumbling about someone really close to him being sick and needing help. 

-In reality you were on your period and had awful cramps.

-You were feeling like death, curled up in a ball on Tamaki’s bed and refusing to move. 

-You had begged him to go to his hero study but he claimed that you were more important, not going to the agency for an evening wouldn’t mark the end of the world. 

-Then Chisaki happened and Tamaki was badly injured. 

-Your agency was stationed outside so you couldn’t help him or know what had happened. 

-You had a broken arm after the fight and was being escorted to the ambulances when you saw Tamaki being carried on a stretcher blood running down his cheek as his arms and whole body was covered in bruises, cuts and so much blood. 

-Your feet moved on their own accord, sprinted through the crowd ignoring the calls of the medic until you reached your boyfriend. 

- “Tama? T-Tamaki baby wake up.”

-Fatgum saw you touch Tamaki’s cheek with your good hand and how, when the boy weakly opened his eyes, he placed his own hand over yours. 

-Tears were running down your cheeks as you looked at him, following the medics as they placed the stretcher in the ambulance. 

-They told you that he would be fine and that you should find another medical team that could take care of your arm. 

-Everything fell apart though when you saw Mirio and Sir Nighteye. 

-Everything was a mess but Fatgum noticed how you would always look back to Tamaki’s ambulance as it drove off. 

-In the hospital you didn’t leave Tamaki’s room, insisting on getting your bandages changed in his room refusing to get your own and leave his side. 

-Fatgum was happy for him. 

-Especially when he went to visit and found Tamaki holding you close to him. 

-Your head was over his heart as he gently massaged your back, tears falling down your cheeks once again. 

-Then he kissed your forehead and Fatgum knew that this wasn’t a moment he wanted to interrupt. 

-When he did visit along side Kirishima he didn’t lose a bit before he asked about you. 

-You were surprisingly not beside him deciding to visit Mirio again to see how he was coping. 

- “So... what’s her name hm?”

- “W-Who?”

- “Your girlfriend!!”

-Tamaki burst into a deep blush as he tried hiding his face in his hands. 

- “Come one I’ve seen how she looks at you and how you kissed her OH so lovingly on the forehead the other day was the cut-”

- “Y/N! H-her n-name is Y-Y/N.”

-Kirishima is standing there, jaw almost touching the floor when you open the door and peek inside. 

- “Oh! I’m sorry.... I-I’ll come back later....”

-Okay now Kirishima is already kind losing it because he didn’t expect his shy senpai to have a girlfriend. 

-So when Tamaki lets out a very low, slightly above a whisper, “But bunny....” he freaking snaps. 

- “WHAT!!!!”

- “Kirishima we’re in a hospital!”

-Get ready to be bombarded with questions....poor you.

-At least you get to sit next to Tamaki while you are being interrogated. 

-They insisted on that saying that they wouldn’t keep Tamaki away from his girl...Tamaki is burying his face in your hair....shy baby.

Todoroki Shouto

-Okay so your relationship is a secret because of his dad. 

-He wanted to shield you from his toxicity. 

-Plus Shouto knew that his dad would force you two apart and he couldn’t let that happen. 

-So you are his little secret. 

-Only his mom knows about you.

-Shouto took you to meet her after your one year anniversary.

-He loves you so damn much he could die. 

-So seeing the two most important women in his life interact and get along he melts. 

-As you say your goodbye to Rei she hugs you, thanking you for taking care of her baby and that your secret will be safe with her. 

-Then she moves on to Shouto as you wait in the hallway. 

- “I like her Shouto. She really loves you. Please take good care of her.”

-Boy falls in love with you all over again I swear to god. 

-Now you spend a lot of time in his dorm. 

-When I say a lot I mean it. 

-You remember how Shouto managed to remodel his room in an afternoon during their first day in the dorms. 

-Yeah that’s what he does for your dates. 

-Since you can’t risk going to outdoor dates very often since it’s very easy for a paparazzi to spot the son of Endeavor.

-Especially if he is holding hands with someone else. 

-Natsuo actually warned you about that and he was the one to suggest dorm dates. 

-He had taken his girlfriend out on a diner date and the next day they were all over multiple tabloids accompanied by multiple calls from Endeavor. 

-All Todoroki children hide their s/o’s......even Fuyumi. 

-Anyways back to Shouto. 

-You spend so much time in his room that you tend to leave some of your clothes there. 

-You change into his hoodies in his room so forgetting your shirt there is a usual phenomenon.

-Plus you do the dirty so.... scattered clothes.

-Now Todoroki is friends with Momo.

-And Momo is friends with you. 

-And she has seen your closet on multiple occasions. 

-She knows your clothes.....you see where I’m going with this?

-Todoroki was struggling with some chemistry problems and you were out doing your hero studies. 

-You had apologized to him multiple times and had suggested Momo as the perfect tutor. 

-That’s why Momo is now alone in his room as he is making tea in the kitchen, looking at what seems to be like one of your favorite sweaters. 

-You had gotten it during Christmas and wouldn’t take it off for a week straight. 

-You had basically brainwashed them by how often you wear it. 

-Why was it in Todoroki’s room though?

- “Todoroki-kun why do you have L/N-san’s sweater?”

-He froze.

-You had stayed the night last Monday and you had been wearing that sweater. 

-He remembers it vividly since he was the one who took it off.....along with your bra.......that he threw somewhere in the room.....AND MOMO COULD FIND AT ANY MOMENT.

-Momo was starting to get worried because well....he had been standing at the same spot for a solid minute staring at absolutely nothing. 

-Standing up she went to shake his shoulder when her eyes caught a bright red fabric peeking out from under the desk.

-Brushing past him she crouched down and grabbed the fabric revealing the red bra. 

-Todoroki snapped out of his shock state the moment Momo reached for the bra strap. 

-He couldn’t stop her though....

- “T-Todoroki-kun.....” 

-And as if things couldn’t get any worse, his phone started to ring as your photo appeared on the screen your name replaced by a heart surrounded ‘babygirl’.

-Todoroki groaned at well everything. 

-Momo was blushing like crazy STILL holding your bra. 

-You two had a lot of things to explain. 

Shinsou Hitoshi

-I’ve said this before. 

-You never meant your relationship to be a secret. 

-At least not in the beginning. 

-You two just never acted like a couple and people assumed that you were just good friends.

-Then you heard Aizawa scaring a boy who had made Mina cry so.........dating his special trainee while you were one of his FEMALE students?

-Nope.

-A secret it is.

-Aizawa is a protective dad and you can’t change my mind. 

-You have a collection of hoodies you have ‘borrowed’ that you wear only inside your or his dorm. 

-And while you sleep. 

-Falling asleep surrounded by his scent is heaven. 

-Aizawa has caught you twice wearing his hoodies.

-Once when Shinsou got turned into a baby and once when you went to get water and he scared you shitless. 

-Aizawa knows about yalls relationship. 

-You can run but you cannot hide child. 

-Anyways. 

-You had a box full of Polaroids from your dates. 

-He knew how happy you were when you two took photos that’s why he bought you a Polaroid. 

-Now you can print your photos and decorate your room. 

-Shinsou is an insomniac.

-We’ve been knew. 

-So on the rare days when he feels kinda sleepy but he misses you so badly he can’t really fall asleep he’ll sneak in your dorm and have an impromptu sleepover. 

-You don’t complain of course. 

-You love to snuggle up to him.

-Also this boy loves wrapping you up in his arms.

-Snuggles snuggles snuggles. 

-Irrelevant information: he has you saved on his phone as kitten and your contact photo is you hanging upside down from the ceiling wrapped up in his capture tool. 

-He had tried teaching you to use it and you somehow managed to climb on the bookcase trying to remake that scene from Tarzan but the cloth got caught on the ceiling fan resulting in this hilarious photo. 

-Back to your sleepover.

-He falls asleep like in the blink of an eye.

-Your sleep that night is the best both of you have had in a fat while. 

-Plus the fact that its the weekend lets you enjoy each others warmth for as long as you like. 

-YES YOU SLEPT IN!!!!

-Being friends with Mina and Kaminari is a ride. 

-Sero and Bakubro and maybe Kiri in some occasions are damage control but they get tired and let you take care of the children. 

-You had promised to go out shopping that morning, a plan you totally forgot when Shinsou tapped your window last night. 

-Giving Mina a spare key to your room was the worst decision you could have made considering you were in a secret relationship. 

-When you didn’t show up on time the two idiots waited for an hour before they made their way to your room.

-Using the spare key she pushed the door open letting out a long “Y/N-CHAAAAN!!!” which scared the soul out of your bodies. 

-You let out a startled scream that woke Hitoshi up who without missing a bit pulled you under him shielding you from whatever made you scream. 

-It was purely on instinct to save and protect you hfqpirhfhsod so cute!!!!

-Mina was left staring at the scene in front of her while Kaminari was calling Sero begging him to come to your room. 

-I don’t know how they didn’t attract dadzawa.

-You would get your ass whooped. 

-Shopping was long forgotten as the whole Bakusquad came one by one in your room waiting for the tea to be spilled. 

-Mina and Sero were angry since they have tried time and time again to hook you up with multiple of their friends, Bakugou didn’t care but he approved, Kaminari and Kirishima were threatening Shisnou if he ever were to break your heart. 

- “I love her you dumbasses I’m not going to hurt her!!!”

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​  @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​

[qyllenhaal]

Good Wives Club [2]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.2k.

Spin-off to American Pie

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.

Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.

A/N: If anyone wants to be added to future tag list just let me know!

Y/n woke up at 5am with a dry mouth and her head spinning. Her night has been plagued with restlessness and she couldn't stay still. When she did fall asleep, it was for small periods of time. Each time she woke up she was not aware of where she was for the first five seconds, panic almost setting in before she registered the sound of her husband snoring.

The end of her irregular sleep cycle ended because she saw the hallway light was on. She sighed when realized it must be time for her husband to get ready for work. She virtually got no sleep and she'll probably be tired for the rest of the day.

She gets up from their creaky bed and starts walking down the hallway. It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she slowly plods down the hallway. She follows the light to the bathroom where she can hear her husband getting ready for work. On the days he goes in this early Y/n is relieved that she doesn't have to get up and cook breakfast for him.

The door is cracked but she opens it to find him inside. She situates herself in the doorway, watching him shave his face through the mirror.

"Good morning," he spoke with a scratchy voice. Even though Y/n didn't marry Llewellyn for love, she's still attracted to him and likes his company most of the time. She feels an ache inside of her that wants him to take her, but after running into Lee last night she's afraid she won't be able to get Lee's face out of her mind while beneath her husband.

"Good morning. Going in early?"

"Yep. Dad wants to do inventory today since he put it off last week."

"Oh okay," she accepts quietly, ready to leave her husband alone so he can get ready in peace.

However he asks her a surprising question, "hey, did you enjoy last night?"

"Uh, it was fine I guess. Did you?" Her hope is that he at least enjoyed himself somewhat.

"You know I don't like that super fancy stuff like that, but I have to eat crow; it wasn't all that bad and Bodecker's not as bad as I thought. He's kind of a funny guy. I still think he's not as hard on crime like everyone claims he is, but personally, he's not that bad. Florence was nice too. She invited us to dinner on Wednesday night, apparently that's the only night Lee has off. I told her we'd be able to join them."

The turn of events was shocking. Y/n couldn't believe her ears and she thought maybe she indeed was still asleep. Lou was not fond of many people and his only "friends" were his two brothers so him warming up to Lee and Florence left her speechless. So speechless that she didn't register the fact that he accepted a dinner invite for them.

"What?"

"What do you mean ‘what’? You dragged me to that dinner last night and wanted me to be nice, and now you're confused when I do just that?"

"I-I'm not confused...just shocked," she admits truthfully, "I can't believe you want to go to someone’s house who isn't your mother house for dinner —are you sure you want to go?"

"We're going Y/n."

His tone of voice indicates that the conversation is done and over with and the decision has been made. Y/n didn't even get to contest his decision but Lou can tell when Y/n is in a defiant mood. Her folding her arms and walking away was confirmation for him. She stalks her way back to the bedroom where she takes to hiding under the covers.

Lee and Lou under the same roof — it makes her stomach churn just to think about it. They're wildly different from each other but the thing she hates about them is what they have in common.

All she can hope is that this nightmare ends and she wakes back up to a life without Lee's ghost lingering around.

-

She decided to go with a floral dress again. She really wanted to take out the checkerboard dress that made her legs look good and showed off her arms, but Lou would have made her change before she had the chance to step out of the house. The floral print is dizzying, but it's the kind of dress that Lou likes to see her wear.

It's just a small dinner at the Bodecker's house but Y/n opts for kitten heels instead of sensible flats. She feels obligated to look her best despite there being less people to dress for. She's never been alone with Florence save for that day at the grocery store. Florence is always dressed to the 10's and Y/n needs to look just as good, if not better. She claims to hate Lee, but it would be so satisfying if she caught Lee ogling her breasts.

"Are you ready?"

Y/n thought Lou was too dressed up for a home dinner of four. He wore a pinstriped suit and those nice leather shoes he bought himself around the holidays.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighs in an attempt to let off some steam.

It was a shorter drive than Y/n expected. Florence hadn't disclosed where she lived before, but Brewer Heights wasn't that for them to live at a distance. The sun was nearly dipped over the horizon and the remaining light that hits their house makes it look like a model home. Everything little aspect and detail Y/n was going to compare herself too. She lives in a nice house, but Florence lives in a nicer house. It tears her up knowing she has the ultimate upper hand over Florence in the form of her own husband and she can't even act upon it. She would royally fuck up her life and their lives too if she decide to let her jealousy get the best of her.

As she walks up their stairs as another man's wife, she accepts that she is jealous. She's always been jealous of Florence even when she didn't know her name. What made her so worthy of all of these things? Lee used to act like he hates the woman so she must be a bitch behind closed doors. It wouldn't be surprising if she is because most people in this town will smile in your face and then gossip about you a minute later.

Lou knocks on the door and only a second later Florence is opening the door with a big smile on her face and Lee right next to her. He wore his police uniform without the jacket while Florence looked like a Lilly Pulitzer catalog girl.

It only took one millisecond of their eyes locking together for Y/n to feel the electricity between her and Lee. She drags her eyes away from his, but she can bet that he has a smirk on her face. He always liked to see her squirm; in a good and bad way.

"Y/n, Llewellyn! I'm so glad you could make it! Why don't you come on in," Florence steps to the side, nudging Lee over with her, to make way for Y/n and her husband.

Her eyes scan over every inch of their house. It's warm, cozy, and oddly comforting. Everything little thing was in its place; perfectly dusted and polished. Y/n is sure that Lee had no hand in decorating this place, it screams Florence through and through.

"Dinner is almost ready. I started the scalloped potatoes a little too late, but it should be done soon! Y/n, do you want to help me set the table?"

Y/n didn't want to leave her husband alone with Lee, but she also didn't want to be in the room with just them. She nods at Florence and follows behind her to their kitchen.

The house smells like Lou's parent's house on holidays. Y/n's stomach rumbles and she doesn't realize how hungry she was. She despises herself for wanting Florence's cooking, but she barely ate today because of how nervous she was.

"I already laid out the place mates, you can place the plates and silverware."

Y/n picks up the expensive dining ware that Florence points towards. She wonders if Florence cooks like this all the time, even when Lee works well into the night.

The walls of their dining room have an awful floral pattern. Y/n is beginning to become sick at the sight of anything that pertains to flowers. The cedar table is perfect for accommodating guests and Y/n wonders how many dinner parties they had in this room. Florence seems to put a lot of stock into being a good hostess. Y/n herself has yet to throw a dinner party at her home, but setting the plates on someone else's dining room table feels like practice. She silently imagines her house filled with Lou's family as she cooks dinner for them.

Florence enters the room and starts placing the dishes in the middle of the table. Her presence takes Y/n out of her fantasy, and when she sees how Florence made a 3-course-meal she feels worse.

"Does the food look good? I tried some new recipes from Julia Child's cookbook to try to impress you and Llewellyn," she admits, "I wasn't sure what you two would like, but Lee loves when I make those recipes from Julia Child and I bet Llewellyn would love it too! I could lend you the book some time!"

"Of course. I love her work!" Y/n lies straight through her teeth. She has no clue who the hell Julia Child is.

Florence grabs one last thing before calling the husbands into the dining room. She places one beer on the coasters designated for Lee and Lou. Lou has never been much of a drinker, but she knows that Lee can knock down a few beers in one sitting. He might be on his best behavior tonight in front of his wife and company.

"Dinner's ready!" Florence called out.

Y/n took her seat on the right side of the table and Florence sat opposite of her. Their husbands come walking in laughing as if they were young boys sneaking back into the house during a family get together. Y/n doesn't like it; she doesn't like it at all. They look too cheery with each other and she knows that Lee is doing it on purpose — she can see it in his eyes when he quickly glances at her. He takes pride in making her uncomfortable. Y/n wishes she had that same affect on him to scare him off a bit, but no matter how chummy she gets with Florence, Lee looks unbothered.

Florence stands up from her seat as if she's presenting the food on the table to an audience. Everything is placed perfectly with the main dish being the middle of the smaller plates.

"This looks great honey, you made a whole feast," Lee walked up to Florence's side and kissed on the cheek. Y/n's eyes are trained on his hand snaking around her waist and giving her a light squeeze before letting go. When she pulls her eyes away from his hands, she sees that Florence almost looks shocked at her husband's affection; Lee is definitely putting on a show for Y/n and it's a damn good one.

Lee sits opposite of Lou and the first thing he does is open his beer. The food isn't even on plates anymore and he's drinking.

"I hope you like Schmidt's, Llewellyn. Lee loves it so it's all we have in the house."

"I'm not one to drink beer often, but I'll try it. And call me Lou, Florence."

Lou was acting out of his normal character. Him only interacting with his family and Y/n left him a bit awkward in the presence of others, but around Florence and Lee he seems to be much...warmer. If Lee was someone else then Y/n would be over the moon, but because it's him she can't even force herself to even look happy about it.

Y/n takes note of how Florence places portions of food on Lee's plate. They were small portions too. She was always strict about what he ate and how much he drank. She's surprised Florence is letting him drink tonight, but she must be trying to look nicer in front of guests.

Y/n was not as controlling as Florence. She always let Lou fix his plate to his liking. She thought it made her a good wife for letting her husband make his own decisions. But Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder after she finished making her own plate. He looked down at his empty plate before looking back at her and nodded towards the food.

"Y/n," he tries to whisper but his tone is rather harsh.

"What?" She whispers back in true confusion.

"My plate."

He looked at her as if she was crazy, as if it was a common occurrence for her to fix his plate. She starts to scramble to save herself from further embarrassment, the sound of silverware against plates so loud. She can feel the stares coming from the other side of the table but she doesn't dare look up.

Her skin began to grow hot. Her husband had embarrassed her in front of Lee and Florence. The worst part was when Florence tried to change the subject to something lighthearted to pull the attention off of Y/n. She felt small and useless. Lou never expected her to fix his plate, but he looked at her as if she was crazy for not doing so. She didn't want to spend dinner almost in tears. This changed behavior in her husband is giving her whiplash and making her dizzy.

"So, Y/n, did you enjoy the other night?"

"It was really nice Florence," she replies sheepishly.

"Susie and I put so much work into planning it. You should join us next time! We're going to start working on the fundraising events for Lee's next campaign-"

"Let's not talk about that tonight Florence," Lee interrupts. It was a moment that would've left Y/n embarrassed if she was in Florence's shoes but Florence was much better at masking her emotions. Only for a split second can Y/n see Florence flinch at his interjection before she just smiles.

"Sorry Lee, you know how excited I get about those things," she masks her apology in a cheery voice.

Dinner basically became a probe of Y/n and Lou's relationship. Florence wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how long they had been together, and what their future plans together were. Y/n let Lou answer the last question by herself because she genuinely didn't know what their future plans were. Lou usually wakes up and decides what major life change they're going to undertake, that's what happened when he decided to move to Brewer Heights.

When the topic of work came up, Y/n thought the coast was clear. Lou talked extensively about the work he does with his father and what his plan is for the next five years regarding the business.

"Once my father retires I'll have to hire someone to do his job. I didn’t go study in school after high school so I can't take over his position, even though it would make things easier."

"I'm sure you can find someone. I know it's rare for someone to leave the city and come to this little town, but Brewer Heights is always a nice incentive!"

"It is nice here," Lou agrees, "and it's quiet. We were in Meade before which is okay-"

"But, it's nothing like Brewer Heights," Florence interjects. "So, Y/n, what did you do before meeting Lou?"

Lee had not looked her way since the plate-fixing incident but his eyes were sure on her now. If his mouth wasn't stuffed with food he'd be grinning from ear to ear waiting for her answer. He knows she's not a good liar, but she's going to have to come up with something.

"I helped my mom with her business. She used to sell fruit preserves out of the house before she passed."

It wasn't a complete lie. She did help her mother label her jars, but that became less frequent when her hours picked up at Tecumseh. Her parents didn't know about her job either; she told them she was a waitress and it was a safe lie seeing as they didn't go out to diners.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure she was a lovely woman if she raised such a lovely daughter! Have you ever thought of continuing her business?"

"Not really. It was pretty small. I still make the preserves sometimes for Lou and I."

"If you wouldn't mind, would you be interested in making some for us one day? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's just so hard to find any good fruit preserves around town." Florence's social habits were very transparent once you were around her for long; she tends to make it impossible for people to say no to her by making them feel bad about even possibly saying no.

"I'd love to Florence. I have fresh peaches at home and I can make peach preserves."

"Oh I'd love that so much," she fawns, "a jar for me and a jar for Lee! He loves his sweets."

"I'm not too big on peaches, Flo. You know I like cherries more."

"You always have," she leans into him and pats him on the chest before straightening up again.

The audacity of Lee is astounding, however not only is he a cop, he's the sheriff. It's such a cowardly move to pick at Y/n when she can't react, but what someone would call cowardly, he'd call fun. She looks like she wants to disappear from her spot and it scratches an itch for him. He missed seeing her get flustered and if he'd known that it would be much more enjoyable to taunt her while his wife was around, he would have found a reason a long time ago to bring her around.

And as if the night couldn't be more humiliating for her, Lou finished his plate before anyone else. He devoured the food on his plate, like a starved man. Y/n felt embarrassed when her husband went for seconds. He never eats this much at home, even when she makes his favorite meals. It makes her want to reach across the dinner table and smack Florence in the face. She hates her; she hates that she has to smile in her face and be friends with her. It's her own fault for continuing this "friendship" with Florence, but her rage makes her blind to her own faults.

She could ruin Florence's life with one sentence: "I've been fucking your husband for years." She'd cause a scene but it would be so gratifying.

Instead she just shuts her mouth and lets dinner continue without anymore incidents.

-

Y/n thought it would show she was grateful for dinner if she helped Florence with the dishes. She was glad to accept Y/n's help and the two spent their time in the kitchen while Lee and Lou sat on the back porch. With Lee's influence, Lou took another drink out back with him. Y/n wondered what they had to talk about, but she would truly not like to know.

"Your wife cooks like that every night, sheriff?"

"Enough with the title. And she cooks every night, but she went a little overboard since she was happy with having guests," he tells him. If it was anybody else, Lee would just answer the questions and not have any for himself. However, he really wants to know what Y/n has been up to since she's adopted this new image. "How about Y/n? Does she cook for you like that?"

"Not at all. She tries, but she's not the good of a cook," he brings the alcohol up to his lips before pulling away and sighing, "she tries but it's just not her best."

"Her mother didn't teach her how to cook?"

"I don't know much about her family. Her mother was dead when I met her and her father doesn't seem to be doing so well. They're from the same area as my folks but moved when they had Y/n. Maybe she was just too spoiled considering she's an only child."

Y/n's past was a mystery to Lee too, but he's surprised to learn she hasn't opened up to her husband. All he knows is that whether it was her home life or not, something had messed her up and it was almost made worse by her time at Tecumseh. He isn't sure how she made it out, but so much of her old life still bleeds through.

"You know I thought I was getting a good girl. One that would clean and have dinner ready when I get home," Lou continued.

Lee wanted to laugh in his face. Lou is proof that you can come from a smart family and still be dumb as rocks. How could he not know what type of girl Y/n was when he first laid eyes on her? She'd dress just like his sister Sandy; shorts that suffered from mistreatment over the years and a sleeveless blouse that was always stained. He's sure her hair was mussed up that day too. Many people would mistake her for a whore (which many people did see her as one even though she didn't outright sell her body to anyone).

"It can't be that bad," Lee tried to vouch for his former lover. Even he can name some good qualities about her; they just don't include any wifely qualities.

"It's not, but things could be better. Anytime I tell her to shape-up she gets this timid look on her face and flinches a little bit. I try to be nice and gentle but I'm losing my patience with her. I’m not looking to leave her, but what’s the point of marrying a woman who can’t do anything? She won’t even talk to me about having kids — was Florence ever like this?”

“No. Her family is from here so she’s been primed to be a housewife. But I will say it’s not all that fun havin’ a doting wife…she’s overbearing at times and I can never unwind with her around. She’s always on my ass about somethin’.”

Lee felt the need to vouch for Y/n. Anytime he would go to Tecumseh, she would accompany out back or get into his cruiser whenever he told her to. All the gritty things he dealt with at work, everything he kept inside, he dumped it on her. Florence would never sit there to listen to his grievances. Lee would never admit it, but he was vulnerable around Y/n, he knew that she would always be there to listen and he attached himself to that. In the beginning she wasn’t willingly listening to his problems but by the end she was. She took care of him when he was too drunk to go home, or she would let him take his stress and frustration out on her body. However, it doesn’t seem as if Lou is budging; his mind is made up.

“I work long hours. My father is putting more responsibilities on me. I put Y/n in that nice home, the least she could do is not serve me burnt food. Hangin’ around Florence and that Susie woman should have at least influenced her or something,” he continued to complain.

Florence was the last person that would be able to influence a girl like Y/n. Lee didn't know why his wife was seemingly grooming that girl. If anything it was just another person for her to control since Lee started telling her to knock it off. The only time she can get away with controlling her husband is if they're in the company of others where Lee has to be on his best behavior.

Y/n is not the type to be influenced by another woman. The only woman she held in high regard was her mother. Y/n listens to male authority. She listens to a man that will rough her up a little bit but then be sweet on her afterwards. She’s a little fucked up and jaded from her former “profession.” Lee knows this, but not Lou. He seems to know nothing of her past and Lee isn’t going to snitch on her.

“I can talk to Florence and see if she can do something. I know she likes taking people under her wing and shit. She seems to really like Y/n too.”

“I’d greatly appreciate that Lee. I know I sound like I’m hard on her, but I do love her. It’s hard for me to show when she just doesn’t put any effort in.”

"Don't worry. I'll talk to Florence — I'll make everything right."

[jerzwriter]

Happiest New Year

Book: Open Heart (Future – post series)

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x MC (Casey MacTavish)

Rating: Teen

Category: Fluff

Summary: It was a difficult year for the Carrick family, and on New Year’s morning, Tobias & Casey welcomed the craziness, the chaos… and even Vivian. They are happy that their recently expanded family is all under one roof and starting new traditions.

Warnings: Mention of main character illness/hospitalization (past)

A/N: This idea came to me at 4:00 AM, so I did what most writers do, got up and wrote it. 😊 I am only in the very early stages of my HC for Tobias & Casey, but writers far better than myself assured me jumping around is perfectly acceptable in fanfiction-landia. So, I hope you enjoy this sweet morning with the Carrick’s.

A/N 1: Also participating in the @choicesdecemberchallenge2021 Day 31: New Year.

SOME CHARACTERS AND THEMES BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS. (Vivian and the girls are all mine 😊 )

Tobias was standing at the stove making breakfast when the front doorbell rang, then… all hell broke loose. And who knew that began with a plethora of brown curls bopping across the room at lightning speed.

“You’re not telling Grammie on me. I’m going to tell her on you!” Brooke squealed as she ran toward the door.

“You can’t tell her on me!” Samantha yelled from the top of the stairs, “I didn’t do anything wrong. You did!”

“Nuh-uh! You took the doll Grammie gave me for Christmas! She told you it was mine!”

“No, she didn’t, she said that….”

Tobias dried his hands and rushed to the foyer where the melee was taking place. "Girls,” he said, attempting to stop things before they spun further out of control; but, the two little firecrackers didn’t even acknowledge that he was there.

“Girls… GIRLS!”

“What is it, Daddy?” they said in unison, so sweetly he almost forgot why he was annoyed, to begin with.

“What have I told you two about fighting with each other?”

“We shouldn’t do it,” five-year-old Brooke answered in a sing-song voice.

“And what have I told you about drama? Especially when Grammie comes over?”

“Grammie brings enough of her OWN drama! We don’t need to bring any more,” seven-year-old Samantha added confidently.

“Exactly! And what are you two doing right now?”

“We’re fighting,” Brooke said, lowering her head in shame.

“I don’t know,” Samantha shrugged sassily, “Grammie likes drama.”

Tobias shot her a dubious look, and she broke out into giggles.

“I’m sorry, Daddy!”

The doorbell rang once again, and he heard Vivaians voice bellowing on the other side of the door.

“Tobias! For heaven’s sake! It isn't spring out here. I’d like to be around to see my granddaughters graduate from….”

Tobias swung the door open, and Vivian was stunned into silence. A true New Year’s miracle.

“Hello, Mother.”

“Tobias,” she said, kissing his cheek, “do you think I am a young woman? It is frigid out there! You need to just give me the keys.”

“You have keys, Mom.”

“Yes, and you have instructed me, your mother, not to use them.”

“I’ve done no such thing. I’ve merely asked you to let us know before you come in….”

“Grammie!! Grammie!!!” Samantha pushed past Tobias and barrelled into her grandmother's arms.

“No! Hold me first, me first!” Brooke jumped up and down with her arms up over her head, vying for Vivian’s attention.

“Oh, there are my little angels!” Vivian squealed, “Come here, my babies, come here! There is plenty of Grammie to go around for both of you.”

Tobias took a deep breath and settled back against the door. Chaotic mornings were the norm with two little ones underfoot. He could only imagine what awaited them when baby Kayla would be old enough to join in the melee. Throw Vivian in for good measure, there would never be a moment of peace in their lives again. His head jerked when a loud alarm went off in the kitchen.

“Oh, shit!” Tobias yelled, running in its direction.

“Tobias Carrick! The LANGUAGE! In front of your children!”

“He says the S word, sometimes, Grammie,” Brooke shrugged, eagerly turning her father in.

“Hmm, well, Grammie is going to have to get the soap out if this continues.”

Brooke giggled while Sam stood up defiantly. “Don’t worry, Grammie! We will tell you if it does!”

The ladies were interrupted by Tobias hollering from the kitchen. “A little help and a little less gabbing!”

Vivian strolled in nonchalantly, an adorable little girl on each hand.

“Now, what is going on out here, Tobias? Do you not know how to cook?”

“Do I… do… Ma! You know I know how to cook. The frittata just bubbled over in the stove, no harm, just some….”

“Smoke,” a weary Casey sighed as she strolled in behind Vivian. Baby Kayla miraculously still sleeping on her shoulder.

Vivian rushed to her side. “Oh my dear!” she said, taking the baby from her arms, “You should be asleep!”

Casey chuckled as she slid under Tobias’s waiting arm.

“Not in this house.”

“Well, then maybe I need to take these girls off your hands for a weekend. You need your rest, young lady!”

“But Kayla is just….”

Casey looked down at the floor. It didn’t matter that the baby was barely over a month old. After everything that happened, she wasn’t able to nurse her. There was no reason Vivian couldn’t take all the girls for a day or two.

“It might not be the worst idea, baby,” Tobias whispered. “Just a couple days.”

Casey remained silent, she knew her husband was right, but the last thing she wanted was to be away from her girls, especially after….

“Mommy!” Brooke yelled, “Daddy burned up our breakfast!”

“I did not, I just….”

“You kind of did,” Vivian glared. “Brooke, don’t you worry baby, Grammie is going to get breakfast right now.”

“And how are you doing that?” Tobias growled.

“Uber eats!”

“Grammie! Uber eats does not make French Toast like Daddy makes French toast.”

“You know what? Sam is right. Thank you, Sam.”

The young girl swayed back and forth, proudly beaming up at her Daddy under his approving gaze. Why don’t you ladies all go in the living room and rest? I’ll clean up out here and make the best French toast that has ever been made.”

“Oh, T, we couldn’t….” Casey started.

“Uh, uh, uh… all of you go inside. I’m capable of making the ever-increasing number of women in my life breakfast on New Year’s Day. Besides, it will probably be the most quiet I get for the rest of the day… for the next 18 years even.”

Casey looked up at him, and he kissed her nose. “Go!”

He tossed the remains of the frittata into the trash and began gathering the ingredients for French toast from the refrigerator. A content smile spread across his face as his little girl’s voices carried down the hallway. Life sure was crazy, but he wouldn’t change a thing.

_______________

Afterward, their bellies were all stuffed more than the French toast had been, and Vivian and Tobias began clearing the table.

“Honey, I can help with….”

“Casey,” he demanded, “sit.”

“But, I….”

“Cassondra!”

“Vivian, you know my name is not Cassondra.”

“I’ve discussed it with your mother, and she regrets not giving you a name that can be better utilized when parental authority needs to be exerted. I have her permission to use Cassondra as needed.”

Casey shook her head and laughed softly. “It’s futile for me to try with the two of you here, isn’t it?”

“YES!” Tobias and Vivian yelled in unison.

“And don’t make me get your mother on the phone!” Vivian added with a pointed finger.

“Oh, please, no. Two of you is more than I can handle already! Girls, why don’t you come inside with Mommy? We can sit together on the couch.”

“She’s finally talking sense,” Vivian smirked.

“Well, you’re here to keep her in line,” Tobias winked.

Brooke took her Mom’s hand as they made their way to the family room. “You know what we need, Mommy? A dog. This way, they can just eat the food off the table when we’re done.”

“Hmm… no, baby. That’s the last reason we need a dog.”

Vivian and Tobias chuckled as they listened to the girl’s voices trailing away. Vivian placed her hand on Tobias’s shoulder. “Everything good, son?”

“Yeah. Everything’s great,” he smiled, “better than great.”

_______________

With clean-up completed, the whole family sat near the fireplace in the family room.

“Daddy, can we put on the TV?” Sam asked.

“No, baby, it’s family time.”

“But, families can watch TV together.”

“Well, this family doesn’t on New Year’s morning.”

“Then can we do our jars?” Brooke asked excitedly.

Casey's brow creased. “Their jars?”

“Ah, yes. We can do the jars. Want to help me get them?”

A chorus of “Yes” filled the air as the two pajamaed princesses rushed to their father’s feet.

“Do you know what he’s talking about?” Casey asked Vivian as she cradled Kayla.

“We’ll have to wait and see,” Vivian smiled.

Casey smiled politely, but Vivian could see the sadness in it.

“What’s wrong, my dear?”

“I just… I feel like I’ve missed out on so much.”

“You’ve been through an ordeal. We all have, but you most of all. But you’re back home, you’re strong, and it’s the start of a brand-new year. Don’t you worry… those little girls are resilient! Just like their Momma. You’re here now, Casey. Everything is going to be fine.”

She watched closely for Casey’s reaction, and when there was none, she moved to her side on the sofa. “I said, everything is going to be fine. Did you hear me… Cassondra?”

Casey smirked and leaned on her mother-in-law’s shoulder before the two women burst out laughing.

The relative quiet that filled the room dispersed as soon as the girls returned. Tobias sat on the floor by Casey’s feet and helped their two girls open their brightly decorated jars.

“They’re so pretty! What are they?” Casey asked.

“One is our wish jar, and the other is our happiness jar,” Samantha replied.

Brooke did not look up from her task of removing the strips of brightly colored paper from the large jars when she replied. “Daddy made them with us when you were in the hospital, Mommy.”

Casey cocked her head in her husband’s direction.

“We made them together when you were still… sick. The wish jar is pretty self-explanatory,” Tobias said, moving next to his wife on the couch. “The girls wrote their wishes on a piece of paper, and I told them we’d all be here to read them together on New Year’s morning. I was very confident that the number of wishes that came true would outnumber those that did not.”

“That was a risky game you played there, Dr. Carrick.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he said, taking Casey’s hand, “it had to happen. It had to be true.”

She squeezed his fingers between hers and smiled sweetly. “And the happiness jar?”

“Well, it’s easy to be overwhelmed with the difficult things that happen,” Vivian chimed in, “but easy to forget the good. So we told the girls to write at least one good thing that happened every day and put it in the jar.

“Somedays, I put more than one, Mommy,” Brooke smiled as she poured the jar's stuffed contents onto the carpet.

“And today,” Tobias said, taking baby Kayla in his arms. “We get to read them.”

Vivian joined the two older girls on the floor, “I’ll help you, so Daddy can stay on the couch with Mommy and Kayla.”

Brooke immediately handed her Grammie a pastel-hued scrap of paper, and Vivian whispered into her ear. Brooke’s eyes lit up as she repeated her grandmother's words.

“I wish that my Mommy and baby sister come home soon. I wrote that one!”

“That’s when we didn’t have a name for Kayla yet,” Sam clarified. “I can read this one myself, Gram. It says I want lots of hugs. And I got them!”

“See, what did I tell you? Most of these were bound to come true!”

They continued until the wishes jar was emptied and it was time to open the happiness jar.”

“… today we had homemade cookies….”

“… the teacher gave me a homework pass….”

“… I got to meet my little sister…. “

“… Daddy hugged me, and I stopped crying….”

“… Kayla came home from the hospital….”

“ … Grammie helped put up our Christmas tree….”

“ … Mommy came home today too….”

“… we left out cookies for Santa….”

Tobias picked one up and smiled, “I’ve got all my girls home with me,” he turned to Casey with a tear in his eye and placed the slip of paper in her hand, “I wrote that one.”

Casey sniffled and wiped a tear from her cheek as Vivian handed out tissues to the grown-ups.

“Why are you crying, Mommy?” Brooke asked.

“Because I’m so happy. I love these jars, girls. Why don’t we make this a family tradition? We can decorate new jars today, and we can fill them all year.”

“Then next New Year, we can read the new ones!” Sam added.

“Exactly,” Casey smiled.

Tobias tugged Casey closer to his side. “I love that idea.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what, the stores open at noon, and all your aunties and uncles will be here by then. I can go to the store and get some more supplies, and we can make the jars together.”

“Oh, Vivian, you better get extra. When Sienna hears this idea, she’s going to want to make a jar for every person she knows.”

“And then some,” Tobias laughed.

“I will, now you two get upstairs and get some rest. Especially you, Cassondra! I would love some quality time with my little girls,” she smiled, taking Kayla from Tobias's arms. "You two, you deserve some time alone.”

“You know you are not getting any more grandchildren, right, Vivian?” Casey grinned.

“Oh, no. You two have done all you needed to do, now… you can just rest,” she winked.

Casey & Tobias paused at the top of the stairs and looked down at Vivian and the girls laughing on the floor as baby Kayla slept nearby.

“You think she’s got this?” Casey smiled.

“My Mom?” He answered with bulging eyes, “Please, it will take more than three rug rats to ruffle her feathers.”

Casey turned when she felt his stare on her. “What?” she asked flippantly.

“Have I mentioned how happy I am to have you back home with us?”

“A few hundred times per day.”

“Good, then I’m close to saying it enough. All my girls... happy, healthy, and under one roof… this is the happiest new year ever. Even if my Mom is one of the girls.”

“Happy New Year, baby.”

“Happy New Year.”

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @annoyingmillenialnewbie @anonymousrookie @barbean @binny1985 @bluebelle08 @bluerosesbloom @brokenmemoriesblog @charisworld @chemist-ana @crazy-loca-blog @custaroonie @everybodyscreamsposts @genevievemd @icecoffee90 @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kachrisberry @kalinahonore @lady-calypso @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @mia143 @mjlbwork @mm2305 @phoenixrising308 @pixelberrygirl @potionsprefect @schnitzelbutterfingers @secretaryunpaid @shewillreadyou @shygirl4295 @socalwriterbee @thegreentwin @toadfrog26 @txemrn @wanderingamongthewildflowers @spookycolorpeanut @mainstreetreader

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

[whumperooni]

Scorched

Pairing: Enji x Reader

Word count: 7.2k

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O; tw breeding kink; tw noncon/dubcon; tw angst/no happy ending; rough sex; tw dumbification (i think?)

A/N: Uhhh, this ended up a lot different than I originally intended. I might do a rewrite in the future/alternate ending? Who knows! Sorry for the angst at the end;;;;

“....Natsuo? Are you- are you sure this is really okay?” You feel bad for asking, but you can’t help letting the question slip out- it feels so...not wrong per say, but it feels so very much like you’re intruding as you look at the looming Todoroki estate. It’s so big- fancy and traditional, beautiful and intimidating- and you bite your lip in worry as you eye it, grip your suitcase tighter. Someone like you doesn’t belong in a place so grand. “Of course it’s okay! Fuyumi was psyched when I told her you were gonna stay the weekend with us!” Natsuo pops his head out from the trunk of the cab and he sends an easy grin your way- sweet, but doing little to ease your nerves. “But, um…what about your dad?” you mumble, shuffling in place and sending the home in front of you an anxious glance. “I don’t think...I don’t think he’d want some random stranger-” “It’s fine.” It’s curt, his voice. Cold. You flinch from it and guilt pokes at you- you know your friend has...issues with his father (though he won’t really talk about them) and you feel bad about bringing up someone that upsets him. (Though, it is a fair question- the house belongs to Enji Todoroki. And you really don’t want to get on the number one hero’s bad side.) You bite your lip, head ducking, and miss the way that Natsuo’s eyes soften at your submittance. You do catch the sigh he lets out, though, and the way his hand falls to the top of your head. He offers another smile- something smaller and a little tired, somewhat less easy than the first- and he pets your hair with a gentle touch that almost has you purring. “It’s fine,” he tells you- softer and without the ice from before. “I promise. Dad is never home and, well, even if he does come home, it’ll be okay. It’s really no big deal.” You doubt that, but you don’t protest anymore- you just nod your head like a good girl and offer him a hesitant smile in return. “Okay, Natsuo,” you mumble. You force your smile a little bigger and take a breath, nod again. “Besides, we’re already here.” When your smile grows this time, it’s more natural. “And I can’t possibly pass up your sister’s famous cooking.” Natsuo grins and he ruffles your hair, grabs your suitcase before pulling away. “C’mon then- Fuyumi’s waitin’ for us.” You huff, but you follow after him- smiling just a little to yourself despite the nerves quietly jittering and fading away underneath your skin. You have always wondered what Natsuo’s family home looks like. And you’ve really wanted to meet Fuyumi after hearing so much about her from her brother. She seems nice, enthusiastic and you really do want to get to know someone that’s so important to your friend- it’ll be nice to finally meet her. You smile at the thought and step through the gateway and onto the Todoroki estate. You immediately seize up and freeze. Everything smells like...cinnamon whiskey. Cigars. Hot metal. Scorching, fierce, searing heat. It smells like alpha. (It smells good.) “...you okay?” You startle- eyes wide and hands shaking. You hadn’t realized that you had stopped- hadn’t realized that you had frozen up like a newly presented omega smelling an alpha for the first time. You touch the scent blocker plastered to your neck and breathe in deep through your mouth, try to gather yourself before Natsuo can worry even more. (What a pathetic, embarrassing response. You’ve been presented for so long now- you should be used to these things. You shouldn’t be frozen and startled with beads of sweat prickling at your hairline, your heart pounding in a frenzy against your rib cage. ….but god, though, that scent is something else- faint now that you’ve gotten used to it but still so...so… So striking. Just a whiff had frozen you in place and you know it’s just from the way Enji-san has marked the territory with a fierce, protective nature but, still, that’s remarkable. A little scary. It makes you nervous over how you’d react if you ran into the real thing.) You gulp and your fingers press tighter against your neck, push at your blocker as if it’ll make it work even better. ...you should probably take another suppressor soon. (You really hope they’ll withstand Endeavor if he comes home.) A shaky breath and you force a smile on your face, wrap your arms around yourself as you take a trembling step forward. “S-Sorry,” you apologize, a breathless laugh leaving you. It sounds quivering and overwhelmed- something so embarrassing. You fluster and hurry forward until you’re by Natsuo’s side, look up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. “I’m okay.” He eyes you, puzzled, and you feel a rush of gratitude that he’s a beta- that he can’t catch your overwhelmed scent that’s flared up at his father’s own scent. (You can only imagine how well that would go if he were to find out.) “I’m fine, I promise,” you tell him more earnestly. You wrap your hands around his arm and flash him a big smile, hope that’s enough to erase his worry. “Let’s hurry so we can settle in and I can meet your big sis, huh?” Natsuo eyes you, but he nods and starts walking, tugs you along toward the waiting home. “Yeah, come on,” he says with a faint smile. “Let’s go.” You walk with him and try to ignore the fluttering in your chest, the way a scalding scent is swirling around you. ~~~~~~~~~~~ “Natsuo, I can’t believe it took so long for you to bring her here!” Natsuo grins, hand rubbing the back of his neck, and you duck your head with a smile as Fuyumi wraps you up in a quick hug. She smells nice- like vanilla and spiced oranges- and it’s almost a disappointment when she pulls away to smile down at you. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she tells you- warm and cheery. “Natsuo’s told me so much about you!” You blush- you can’t help it- and you gently elbow Natsuo in the side whenever he laughs. “He’s told me a lot about you too,” you say- maybe just a little shy but smiling all the same. “Fuyumi, I’m gonna go put her stuff in the guest room,” Natsuo pipes up. “Is dinner almost done?” Fuyumi nods and Natsuo grins- pleased as punch as he begins to walk away. You remember your need for suppressants and quickly reach a hand to grab onto Natsuo’s jacket, look up at him with sheepish eyes whenever he cocks a brow your way. “I, um, need something from my suitcase,” you tell him- trying not to let stray embarrassment show on your face. “I’ll go with you.” He just shrugs and you scamper after him- waving to Fuyumi with a little smile. The house is big- bigger than you had realized. It’s as nice on the inside as it is on the outside- very traditional and very simplistic, elegant. You can tell that everything is expensive and well taken care of on top of that. It’s nothing like the little house in the ‘burbs that you grew up in and, honestly, you would be lying if you said you weren’t in awe as you followed Natsuo throughout his family home. It’s so nice. You feel guilty for being in it for some reason- like your presence is going to somehow dirty such an immaculate, dignified home. It’s a ridiculous feeling, but you still find yourself sticking closer to Natsuo than you normally would, you find your hands curling up against your chest as you walk so they don’t brush against anything. “My room is just across the hall,” Natsuo informs you, pointing ahead. “So if ya need anything, you can knock.” You nod when he looks at you and eye his room in interest whenever he looks away. You’re kind of curious over what your friend’s room looks like- it’s nosey, maybe, but you can’t help but want to peek your head in and poke around. The room that Natsuo shows you to is plain- nice but plain; clearly a guest room. It’s going to be strange sleeping on a futon- you’ve always had a bed-, but somehow you’re kind of excited for it. It’s a little...novel? A new experience. “The bathroom’s down the hall on the left,” Natsuo tells you as he sets your suitcase down. You nod and he stretches his arms high above his head, shows off a sliver of a toned stomach that you politely avert your eyes from. “I’ll give you some time to settle in and then we’ll join Fuyumi for dinner?” You nod, smiling at him, and hum out a little, “Yeah, that sounds good.” Natsuo smiles in return and then he turns to leave. As soon as the door is closed behind him, you rush to your suitcase and unlock it with fumbling, clumsy hands. Enji-san’s scent is stronger inside the house- you absolutely need to make sure you take your suppressants. You paw through your suitcase looking for the little bottle of pills, getting frantic when it’s not in the side pocket you thought you had put it in. It’s not stuffed underneath your clothes or in your makeup bag either and you start to panic then, empty your suitcase onto the floor to sift through everything. It’s...it’s not there. How is it not there? An upset noise claws its way up your throat and you turn from your suitcase and toward your purse. There’s an emergency little pill case in there, but it only has two suppressants- enough for tonight and tomorrow. Not enough if Enji-san comes home. Hand clenching around the case, you swallow hard and try to calm down. Natsuo said that his father shouldn’t come home this weekend- that he’s rarely ever home. It should be fine; you should be okay. If...if he comes home, you’ll just have to make an excuse and leave. Or try to bear it- though you really doubt you’ll be able to. God, maybe you should ask Fuyumi if she has any? They won’t be near strong enough for you, but in a pinch… You’d have to explain why you need them, though, and that’s almost as embarrassing as Natsuo finding out that your oversensitive omegan senses are prickling in instinctual interest at his father’s territorial scent. God, being a fecund is such a pain. You whine to yourself softly- cheeks flushed in guilt and hand hurting from holding onto the pill case so tight. It’s an embarrassing situation, but it’s your fault for forgetting your suppressants at home so you’re just going to have to suck it up and deal with it. (And pray that the number one hero is kept busy chasing criminals all night long) You swallow and tuck your pills back into your purse, begin to put everything back into your suitcase. It’ll be okay, you tell yourself. He’s not going to come home. I’m going to be okay. Nervously, you tidy up after yourself and try to pretend that there’s nothing wet between your legs. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “-and now my class is not allowed to have pencil grips.” You giggle, not able to help it, and hide it behind your hand, smile at Natsuo whenever he shoots you a grin. Fuyumi is unexpectedly funny- you’re really enjoying yourself. (Even with your nerves still so frayed and your instincts still trying to react to Enji-san’s strong, strong scent.) You swallow, smile wavering, and hide it with a quick drink of wine. The Todoroki’s have very good wine- of course they do. It’s a luxury for you to enjoy- you usually end up grabbing the cheapest bottle from the corner store; you hardly ever get to enjoy something top shelf. You take another sip of the wine and blush whenever Fuyumi looks over you, set it down hastily. She doesn’t say anything- only smiles gently- and that helps you relax back down, gets you smiling back at her- albeit a bit abashedly. You hope that she hasn’t picked up on your stress- it would be much, much too embarrassing if your best friend’s older sister knew that you were battling against the way their father’s scent is trying to pull you into need. “Aren’t you taking them on a field-” A trilling ring cuts Natsuo off and he huffs at that, checks his phone and then smiles apologetically at you both. “Sorry, that’s my lab mate,” he explains. “I gotta take this- we’re working on a group project.” You nod along with Fuyumi and Natsuo gets up and walks out of the room- leaving you alone with his older sister and a quick ripple of nerves that has your fingers curling into your palms. There’s quiet for a moment and you bite your lip in a sudden whip of shyness, take another sip of wine. Fuyumi merely watches and smiles at you, fingers her own glass. “Are you alright?” she asks, just a bit softly. She tucks her hair behind her ear whenever you blink at the question, bites her lip and looks almost guilty for a moment. “I, um, I know that it can be a little jarring coming here for the first time. Dad kind of...well, he kind of gets carried away with marking his territory…” Oh, fuck. You choke on your spit as your eyes widen and Fuyumi hastily raises her hands, blushes as she waves them around. “I’m sorry! I didn’t want to bring it up, but I know that it can be hard to deal with and I’m sure that Natsuo didn’t warn you! And, well, you’re a fecund so it’s worse for you and I just- I just wanted to make sure you’re okay!” Natsuo told her? Embarrassment, shame runs through you and you have to bite your lip to hide a noise that wants to sound, you dig your nails into your thighs as upset washes over you. You don’t like telling people that you’re a fecund. You don’t like people knowing that you’re such a weak, pathetic thing. Who else has he told? Worry ripples through you and there’s an undercurrent of betrayal; Natsuo knows how hard you try to keep your status a secret and it hurts that he spilled it- even if it was just to his older sister. Fuyumi must be able to see the upset on your face- her own expression softens and there’s regret in it, something apologetic in her eyes. She doesn’t seem to be judging you or looking down on you and it helps, a little, but you still can’t quite reel in your frustration despite your instinctual efforts to do so. Great- now you’ve made things uncomfortable. Good going, idiot. Your lips quiver and you force a smile to form, clench your hands into fists tight enough to make all your fingers ache. “I…” You have to clear your throat to compose yourself, keep the hurt and shame from your voice. “I...I’m okay.” There’s a flicker of disbelief in her eyes, but it disappears quickly and your cheeks burn as her gaze turns pitying. “...if you need anything, please let me know,” Fuyumi tells you gingerly, kindly. It should be comforting, but it only brings more embarrassment and you hate yourself a little bit for not feeling grateful like you should. “Dad shouldn’t...he shouldn’t be home tonight. And, um, if he does come home, it wouldn’t be for long...I- I’ll warn you if he says anything about turning up…” You wince internally and all you can is nod, hang your head as you whisper out a strained, “thank you.” It’s quiet after that, uncomfortable. Fuyumi, for her part, looks guilty but she doesn’t try to say anything more. The silence only gets broken whenever Natsuo returns and you force a smile on your face even if you can’t quite look at him, even as your heart hurts and your nails dig deeper into your palms. You take a long drink of your wine and listen as he starts chattering about his project, stare at the table as worry and upset crowd your mind. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Several glasses of wine later, your upset is forgotten. Your worry is still there, but it’s blurred under your fuzzy senses, easier to deal with. Or, accept, maybe? It’s hard to say, but you do know that you’re more relaxed- not frantically fighting against Enji-san’s scent but softening into it, letting yourself be tugged slowly into the submissive thing you were born to be. It’s almost comforting now, that simmering scent. You’re starting to feel...hazy. Loose and small but in a good way. Though, that could be from the wine. It could be from the way you’ve found yourself snuggled up and purring against Natsuo’s chest. It’s a good contrast- the toasty scent clouding your senses and your best friend’s cool, soothing touch. You’re not overwhelmed by one or the other and it’s easier to maintain yourself when you can press your flushed cheek against Natsuo’s shoulder, burrow your nose into his neck and inhale his neutral, cleansing scent. A purr works its way through you and you curl your fingers into Natsuo’s shirt, knead at the fabric and look up at him with half-shut eyes. He’s flushed, like you, and there’s a content smile on his face, something in his eyes that you can’t put a name to. He looks happy. That’s good- you want him to be happy. Your purr ups its tempo and Natsuo laughs a little- though you’re not sure why. His hand smooths over your hair and a chirp slips from your lips whenever it travels down to your back, starts to rub slow, cool circles along you. “You’re so soft right now,” Natsuo mumbles. “I’ve never seen you like this…” He hasn’t? Oh, you suppose not… You hum and let your eyes shut, sigh contently when the arm wrapped around your waist holds you a bit more snug to him. Like this, you can almost forget your hurt from before. Almost. You shake your head against him as you feel your upset try to bubble to the surface, curl your fingers tighter into his shirt. You don’t want to be upset and stressed again. You just- you just want to relax. You just want to keep feeling nice and dreamy and a little thick. The sound of footsteps has your eyes creaking open and you blink slowly toward Fuyumi when you spot her in the doorway of Natsuo’s room. She looks...worried? You don’t know why, feel guilty over it for some reason. When you chirp softly at her, her brows furrow and you nearly get up to take her by the hand, draw her into your nest so you can nuzzle her until her worry goes away. Nest...no, wait, no. It’s not a nest you’re in- it’s Natsuo’s futon. His big, comfy futon with its cool sheets and soft pillows, fluffy padding. How did you get into his futon again? (How much did you drink?) You blink again, a little confused, and miss the way Fuyumi bites her lip, the way she hugs herself and casts a nervous look Natsuo’s way. “Natsuo…” You feel him shift underneath you and that rocks your world a bit, has your eyes shutting once more. You don’t catch the words she whispers or what Natsuo says in return, but you do feel the way Natsuo hugs you a little closer whenever Fuyumi’s so very pleasing scent drifts away and it gets drowned out by Enji-san’s so very dominating one. Cool fingers brush against your cheek and slip along your jawline, down under your chin. You whine, softly, whenever Natsuo tilts your head up to look up at him and blink heavily under his scrutinizing gaze. Why is he looking at you like that? “...are you okay?” he asks, after a few seconds of silence. Your head tilts in question and Natsuo huffs gently. “...when was your...when was your last heat?” Your last heat? You can’t remember your last heat, not really. It was drugged and fuzzy, horrible with your leaden limbs and the way you were all alone without an alpha. You’ve...you’ve never had an alpha during your heat. You’ve never had an alpha at all, actually. But- but there’s an alpha here. You can smell him. He’d take care of you- he should be taking care of you. Where is he- where is- Your lashes flutter with furious blinks and a sharp inhale has you almost choking on the scent cloying your senses. You shiver and nearly scratch Natsuo as you grip at his shirt tighter, flush in muffled embarrassment when you vaguely realize where your mind was going. Oh...oh you shouldn’t have drank so much. The moment of clarity helps to jar your mind into something almost functioning and you shudder, squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t have to see your best friend’s concern. “Natsuo...I…” You trail off, swallow back a whine that wants to sound. “Can you...my purse...I have- need to take my suppressor…” You feel the deep breath he takes, feel the way his arm around you tightens. There’s a swallow from Natsuo- audible and something that has you feeling guilty- and then his hand pats your hair, he moves to sit up. “Yeah...yeah. Give me a sec.” You don’t want to move. You don’t want to let him up- you were so comfortable before. But your clarity is lingering and you know that you need him to fetch your pills for you, you know that you can’t sink further into this. (Stupid girl, how could you weaken so much?) Reluctantly, you sit up and out of the way. The smile that Natsuo gives you is a little strained, but the way he ruffles your hair is kind, gentle. When he gets up, you move to curl against the pillows and that’s when you feel something slick on your thighs, that’s when you realize that your panties are wet. When did that happen? Did- did Natsuo know? Did Fuyumi know? You don’t- you don’t understand- when- Embarrassment claws its way out of you in the form of a whimper and shame chases after it- panic, too. You swipe at the slick on your thighs almost frantically and whine as you try to scrub it away, tear up in drunken upset. Humiliating. You manage to rub the tears away before Natsuo comes back, but you’re not quite able to get your wobbling bottom lip under control. He startles in the doorway when he sees you and you hang your head in shame, don’t look at him whenever he passes a small pill and a glass of water to you. The water is soothing, at least. The pill is soothing, too- you know it’ll kick in soon and you’ll be able to gain control of yourself, pull back from the path you were wandering down. Natsuo sits quietly beside you as you drain the glass and you sniffle your embarrassment, hunch your shoulders tight. “...’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t...I don’t…” Natsuo’s arm wraps around you and his hand finds the side of your head, gently pushes you until you’re leaned up against him. “...it’s okay,” he sighs out. You flinch because you know it’s not okay- it’s not okay at all. You’ve ruined things. “You’re not- you’re not going into heat are you?” You wince and you shake your head, hide your face against his broad shoulder. It’s not a lie...you think. It’s just- you’ve just been overwhelmed is all. Overwhelmed and drunk. You’re not- of course you’re not. You can’t be… You grip the glass tight between your hands and shake your head against him, let out a shivery exhale. “I just...I just drank too much,” you mumble. “‘M sorry, Natsuo…” He sighs again, big hand moving to pet over your hair. The cool kiss he gives to your temple is a surprise and soft noise leaves you when his lips press to you, your tension unwinds whenever he nuzzles against you. “You don’t have to apologize,” he tells you- firm but so kind, so sweet. His lips find your temple again and something in you squirms, another soft noise bubbles up and out of your throat. “...are you okay staying here tonight? If you want, I can-” You shake your head before he can finish the suggestion. Even if you’re still fuzzy and drunk, you can’t let yourself be a further burden on your friend, his family- you’re going to have to just make it through the night here and deal with any embarrassment in the morning. ...you hope Natsuo won’t look down on you when you wake. “I-I’m okay,” you insist- words stumbled, fumbled. “I’m fine. Just- just drank too much.” You lift your head and force a smile on your face, grip the glass tight once more as you try not to tremble at the sight of his furrowed brow, his worried frown. Natsuo’s hand finds your cheek and you shudder at the touch, press into his palm and try to cling to your clarity. “I’m okay,” you repeat- softer and with lowered lashes. You reach up to touch his hand and press it more against his cheek, bite your lip when his eyes widen and then soften. “I promise…” He stares down at you and you blink up at him. It’s quiet quiet quiet until Natsuo breathes in deep, gives a small nod. “Okay...I...okay…” He breathes in deep again and you let your hand drop, close your eyes whenever his moves from you as well. “Do you want...do you want to watch a movie or something?” Natsuo suggests- awkward, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. You nod because, yes, that does sound nice and, honestly, what else can you do? Natsuo moves to get comfortable and you hesitate for a moment before creeping close to him, curling up against his chest. The arm he wraps around you is firm, helps you believe that maybe he doesn’t think you’re a gross and pathetic thing. You don’t want Natsuo to think you’re gross. You don’t want him to think you’re pathetic. Natsuo puts a movie on and you close your eyes, curl your fingers into his shirt. He pets over you and you try to sink into the softness from before, avoid drowning too much in it. You drift off- dizzy and still washed over in shame, still wet between your thighs. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ...thirsty. Eyes creaking open, lips parting with a croak, you peel yourself off of Natsuo and rub your eyes with shaking hands. Thirsty. Hungry. Hot. You fumble out of the futon and Natsuo doesn’t stir, doesn’t move as you crawl away from him and stand on weak legs. Feels...you feel… ...fuzzy? You shiver and hug yourself, find your palms wet whenever they touch against your arms. Hot and cold. Doesn’t- doesn’t make sense. You’re- you’re- Thirsty. Hungry. Hot. Cold. Fuzzy. ...lonely? But Natsuo is still there...you shouldn’t be...but...he’s not- he’s not… You shake your head and rub your hands over your arms, look back toward the hallway. You’re just...you just need...you just need some water. That’s it...that’s- that’s all you need… You squeeze your eyes shut tight until stars spark up behind your lids, breathe in deep to try to clear your head. ...you’re fine. You just need some water. Another deep breath and you head toward the kitchen, dig your fingers deeper into your arms. Is it hotter in the house? It takes a moment for you to find the glasses. You try to be as quiet as you can, but your hands won’t stop shaking for reasons you don’t want to think about it. It’s...it’s hard to think anyway. Why is it so hard to think? You fill the glass with cold water and wince when your trembling hand causes droplets to splash onto you, wet your digits. You down the water faster than you have ever done before, fill the glass back up as soon as you’re done. You’re still so thirsty. You’re still so hot. Does...does it smell more like cinnamon too? Does it...can you taste whiskey on your tongue? A soft noise works its way up your throat and your lashes flutter, your thighs press together. You clutch at the counter when your knees threaten to buckle, spill the water into the sink at the sound of heavy footsteps. What...who… You whimper and turn your head toward the doorway- movements so sluggish and a gasp catching in your throat, sweat beading along your hairline. Enji-san- Enji- alpha- Flames lick into the kitchen and you slump against the counter, whimper once more as turquoise eyes stare you down. What is he- he’s not supposed to- he’s- “Al- alpha…” Enji takes a step toward you and your knees buckle, your nails scratch against the counter as you desperately try to keep yourself upright. Not supposed to be here. He’s not- he’s not- why is he- alpha- alpha- alpha smells so good- Your lashes flutter and your head tilts back with a moan, your mind clouds over even as panic pricks through you. Enji takes another step and a growl breaks through the quiet of the room, his shoe sole scorches a mark into the beautiful floor. “Who,” he rumbles out, “are you?” Your palm slips from the counter and your legs tremble, you start to fall to your knees. A thick arm wraps around your waist and drags you back up before you can hit the floor, crushes you against a broad chest. You go limp in the hold and shudder whenever fingers tilt your head up to look at him, whine softly as they splay down and brush over your throat. They’re so...they’re so warm. Big. Thick. Such nice fingers, so wonderful. You want them in you. You want alpha to- to- Oh, god, what are you thinking? A growl answers the whimper that leaves you and you whine, weakly reach a hand to his chest to try to push yourself away. “Behave.” Your hand falls. His scent flares. Your lashes grow wet and his hold on you tightens, his eyes grow darker. His fingers roam over your neck and your own twitch, your chest hitches with little pants and gasps. You don’t quite realize he’s found your scent blocker until it’s peeled off and a groan is leaving him and, by then, there’s nothing you can do about it. There’s nothing you want to do about it. (But you do- you do! He’s- he’s Natsuo’s- you can’t- you can’t!!!) A snarl sounds and you squirm at it, mewl whenever you’re dragged up higher and his nose glances along your jaw, drags down to bury against your scent glands. “Fecund.” The word reverberates against your heated flesh and it’s accompanied by rough fingers digging into you, hot air fanning over your throat. Tears leak down your cheeks, but you can’t tell if it’s from overwhelming need or from fear. Both, maybe, but how can you decide on that when your whole body is trembling, when your senses are flooded with a spicy scent, when your cunt is dripping with your slick. Teeth graze over your scent glands and you whine, grip at broad shoulders and cling to your best friend’s father. You’re thrown over one of those shoulders before you can tell what’s happening and left gasping, scratching along Enji’s back and whining whenever his hand smacks against your ass. “Alpha!” A snarl is all you get in response. You’re carried through the house- down the hallway, past the guest room, past Natsuo’s bedroom. Shades of shame have more tears dripping down your cheeks and you sob as you’re hauled off past your sleeping friend, tremble as you try to rock against Enji in search for some pathetic pleasure you so desperately need. Is alpha taking you to your nest? You want- you wanna be in your nest. You wanna- you wanna be- A door gets flung open and you’re dropped onto a futon, left blinking stupidly up at Enji as he brackets himself over you and bares his teeth. He’s so big. So- so big. Perfect for taking care of you, perfect for protecting you, perfect for breeding you. You chirp at the thought and reach up to him, purr whenever he grabs your hand and presses his nose against your wrist. “Fuck...” It’s ragged, rough. Makes something tingle up your spine. Your purr rumbles louder at it and you coo when his teeth scrape against your wrist, whenever his hand reaches to your waist and pins you down. Alpha is so strong. Why were you...why were you worried before? You can’t remember… “Alpha,” you mumble- only half-aware of it, not quite able to see him as your head lolls and your back arches. “Want...want…” Enji groans against you and his scent doubles down, his grip on your waist becomes bruising. Hurts but it’s- it’s okay- alpha can- alpha can do whatever he wants. “Needy,” Enji growls, hand pushing up your shirt. You nod, whining, and he snarls- chest heaving and pupils tiny pinpricks, flames blooming feverishly. “Good mate.” Pleasure flares all throughout and you whimper as slick gushes from you, as your pussy throbs with your need, with the giddy joy and sheer thrill of being praised by such a strong alpha. Tears have your vision blurry and they bead over your lashes, drip and sear down your cheeks as you smile and shake. Good mate. You want...you want to be a good mate for alpha. Your alpha. A big hand rips your shirt off- Enji’s impatience tearing it to shreds and the fabric digging tight into your skin as he yanks it off and makes it into so many pieces. Your bra is reduced to cinders and the cry you let out from the heat only makes Enji snarl, only has him gripping your breasts with callused hands and giving a rough squeeze. “Tender little morsel,” he growls- brilliant eyes glazing over and a sizzling slather of drool gathering between his teeth. “Mine. Been so long- going to- fuck! Going to breed-” He cuts himself off with another snarl and you sob, reach up with shaking hands to grip at his shirt, desperately try to yank him down closer to you. “Ple- please! Alpha! Breed! Need- want pups! Your pups- Alpha! Alpha! Al-” (No- no- yes! Yes! NO! What are you saying? You can’t- you can’t- You want to be full so bad.) Tears stream down your cheeks as you choke on your pleading words. Enji doesn’t pay attention except to growl and bare his teeth at you, incinerate your shorts and panties. A whimper crawls from your throat as you're burned and marked, but the pain is forgotten when his teeth find your neck and his drool gets spread along it, when your legs are forced into an aching sprawl and he grinds himself mindlessly against your dripping cunt. Feels- feels good. Hurts so much. Feels so good. You need him inside you. You whine, speech forgotten and lips and tongue useless, your mind lost and swirling with need you could have never imagined before, would have feared to comprehend. It’s so hot and thoughts are truly gone from you now- all that’s left is instinct and need, the base and feral desire to be fucked and used and bred- for your purpose as a fecund to be fulfilled. (Why were you ever ashamed of your status? This is what you were born for- this is what’s bringing you such a pure happiness that you’re weeping and shaking and crying out) You don’t protest whenever your limp body is flipped over- just snivel and whine and rock your hips back against Enji- against Alpha. There’s no prep or build up or easing into it- Enji shoves his cock into you and you’re left screaming as pain and bliss sear through you in rough, overwhelming streaks. You collapse completely underneath him and come on his cock- blood dripping down along with your slick, your thick and honeyed juices. The lick to your neck helps soothe the pain and you mewl, allow your head to loll to offer your throat to him. Enji’s neverending growl deepens as his teeth scrape against your scent glands and his fingers bruise into your hips whenever you weakly clench around him, try to rock your hips despite the sting and stretch his cock brings, despite the way you’re aching so badly that you won’t be able to move tomorrow or the day after that. That’s okay, though- alpha will take care of you. Alpha...alpha will take care of you. You need him to take care of you. You can’t do anything without alpha. Enji’s hips draw back and you whine frantically at the thought of him withdrawing from you, claw at the futon and whimper out pleading, wordless mewls. You can’t have him pull away and leave you empty- you need him buried inside of you, you need him to keep you filled and full. Never leave you empty- always keep you full- you need it- you need it! Enji slams himself back into you fully and you sob as you’re filled completely again- body jarring forward with the force and his teeth tightening and digging deep into your throat. The growl that reverberates against your flesh has your body tightening, your claws tearing into soft padding. They rip through the fabric as his hips buffet against you harder and harder and tiny feathers begin to fly through the air, stick to your sweat soaked body as alpha fucks and fucks and fucks you. Through your blurred vision, it looks like snow swirling in the air- impossible coolness despite the heat burning through the room. You coo dreamily, blearily and something scratches in your mind, claws against the pleasure that dulls the pain and has all your senses so broken and drugged. Snow...cool...there’s someone- there’s a reason you shouldn’t be- who- Flaring flames scorch the feathers to ash and you shudder as they lick close to your skin, squeeze and spasm around the thick cock that’s shaping you into Enji’s perfect little hole to breed. (If he doesn’t burn you to a crisp first.) You whimper as he grunts, drip tears and cum and sweat. It’s too much. It’s not enough. You need more. You need his- you need alpha’s- you need- you need- “Kn- knot! S- seed!” The plea scratches out of your throat in a choked sob- hoarse and whiny, so needy and garbled. It’s loud enough that it covers the sound of running steps, desperate enough to make Enji roar out and shove your face into the futon, shove you down so low that your vision is halved by padding and tears as he spears his cock into you again and again and again- swelling knot catching on your slick, sore hole. Your cunt clenches down- gummy insides so desperate to be sprayed and stuffed with his scorching seed- and you’re left drooling over the futon- lashes fluttering and eyes threatening to roll back as begs get caught in your throat and stuttered out in pathetic, broken moans. Please please please wanna be filled wanna be filled so bad need seed need alpha to come need alpha to fill me alpha give me pups alpha breed me alpha please let me give you pups alpha breed your omega alpha breed your bitch alpha alpha alpha ALPHA ALPHA ALPHA- “ALPHA!” Enji comes and it hurts- his seed searing and blistering your insides, his knot slamming and sealing the boiling cum firmly in your spasming, screaming, creaming cunt. You’re yanked up by the hair and his teeth find your neck as you sob, break through your tender flesh as he marks you from the inside out. Tears drip down your cheeks and down your throat, mix with the blood that bubbles and beads through his teeth and past his lips. Hurts- hurts. But- but alpha came- alpha filled you. Alpha bred you. So you’re happy- so happy. A gurgling, broken coo sounds from you and you smile even as you tremble and fall so limp against Enji- smile even as Natsuo and Fuyumi run into the bedroom. Alpha growls against you- content- and a weak mewl leaves you when his tongue licks over his claim, when his scent falls heavy to begin to soothe you, tamp down the pain that is threatening to break you from your fog. “What did you- what did you- WHAT DID YOU DO?!” “Dad! You can’t! Why-” You clench around Enji and whimper at the intruders, twitch and shudder as your lashes flutter to a close. Want- want more- need alpha to- need him to breed you more… You pass out as Enji’s growl turns violent, as Fuyumi clamps a hand over her mouth and sobs over your blistered body and swollen stomach, as Natsuo screams his horror and rushes toward Enji- ice coating his hands and melting from the fierce heat of the room. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Alpha...when is alpha…I need him...when is coming home...?” “...soon. Rest now.” A mewl sounds and Natsuo’s heart breaks as he watches you snuggle down into your nest, tears threaten to sting at his eyes whenever you chirp softly at him, burrow your nose into one of his father’s sweaters. You’re so big. Soft and full and stupid. His best friend- his first one true love- has been reduced to nothing but a dumb little omega- a helpless thing who can’t do anything more than chirp and mewl for your alpha- for Enji. This is all his fault. He should have never brought you here. He should have known better. How could he be so stupid? Natsuo grits his teeth and clenches his hands- unable to turn his head from the way you curl around the small bump in your stomach that’s growing larger and larger each day. All he had wanted was to bring you home. All he had wanted was to introduce you to Fuyumi. All he had wanted was to spend time with you, hold you close and gather the courage to whisper his feelings to you. And now...now that’s all gone. The chance has been crushed to bits and he only gets this with you- watching over you and making sure you’re healthy, seeing the way his father’s seed is growing inside of you. He’s going to have another brother or sister. He hates it. He hates Enji. He hates you. ...he hates himself. He should have never brought you here. He should have whisked you away whenever Fuyumi whispered her nervous worries. He should have done so many things. A sigh leaves you- soft and content, sleepy as you run your hands over your stomach. Natsuo finally turns away and he leaves the room- tears wetting his lashes and the tiny shards of his broken heart shattering even smaller. He misses his best friend. He wishes he had never dragged you into his life. Natsuo heads to his room and you stay in your nest- smiling as you drift off, mind blank and all your screaming thoughts of your future and your fear muted by the scent of cinnamon whiskey and cigar smoke, hot metal and searing heat.

[not-the-tie-youre-looking-for]

Something that's been bugging me for years since the Legends finale. If Zhan had been the writer for Rebels, do you think he would have had Thrawn bomb Lothal to bring Ezra out? On the one hand, from Legends Thrawn's portrayal I imagine he would without a second of hesitation. On the other, Canon Thrawn has been much more... restrained? And on a third point, there's the fact that Legends and Canon Thrawn seem like they really could be the same person just at different points of time. cnt in next

...I'm just curious if anyone else was curious if Zhan agreed with that direction taken. Which, on that note, did Zhan ever say anything about his thoughts on how Rebels handled Thrawn? Both from a writing standpoint as well as an acting and musical one (Thrawn's various leitmotifs)?

Oh man. Ohhhhhhhh maaaaan. My friend, you have asked exactly the right person this question, because not only have I wanted to talk about this multiple times before, but I also have ~receipts~. 👀

⚠️Spoiler warnings for Star Wars: Rebels, The Mandalorian, the canon Star Wars novels Thrawn, Thrawn: Alliances, Thrawn: Treason, Thrawn Ascendency: Chaos Rising, and Thrawn Ascendency: Greater Good, and the legends Star Wars novels Heir to the Empire, Dark Force Rising, The Last Command, and Outbound Flight.⚠️

Oh man. Where to begin.

Lets start with who Thrawn is, because depending on who you ask, you're gonna get different answers—whether you're strictly a Legends fan, Dave Filoni, a guy who's only seen Thrawn in Star Wars: Rebels, Timothy Zahn, or just a writer/artist fan like me.

To Timothy Zahn, the man behind our favorite chiss, Thrawn is a character that is constant in both attitude and personality throughout all of his content. In multiple interviews, ranging from Thrawn's debut in Rebels to the latest about the writing of the Ascendancy Trilogy, Zahn states that Thrawn in canon and Thrawn in Legends are indistinguishable.

And so I present the receipts:

In a 2017 interview with The Verge on writing the first canon Thrawn book Thrawn, Zahn is asked the following question and responds as such:

How do you navigate bringing back a character who already has an extensive backstory and audience expectations, with telling a new story that fits in the new continuity?

Actually, I didn’t find that to be a problem. I’d never written Thrawn in this part of the Star Wars timeline, so it was simply a matter of bringing him into the Empire and chronicling his rise through the ranks. It’s still the same character as in the 1990s books, just a decade or two younger and in a very different military and political environment.

In another interview with The Verge in 2018 (a few months after the finale of Rebels aired) about writing Thrawn: Alliances, he repeats this sentiment twice:

Thrawn feels like if it had been written before the canonization purge a couple of years ago, or if you squinted a bit, it would serve as a perfect setup for Heir to the Empire.

Oh, I don’t think you need to squint at all. I wrote him in these two books to fit in with everything else I’d done. So if someone at Lucasfilm snapped their fingers, and suddenly all of my other books were canon, and there would be no real retrofitting that would have to go in. It would all fit together.

Thrawn: Alliances feels more at home in the new canon, especially because Thrawn has been fleshed out a bit more in Rebels. Was there any adjustments for that?

Not really. I’m getting to play with more canon characters like Vader and Padmé and Anakin, but the character himself, I still see him as the same person. He’s got goals, and he won’t necessarily share them with you, but he as long as you’re going the same direction, he’s happy to cooperate and assist along the way.

...and this is referenced again in a 2020 interview with Polygon about writing Thrawn Ascendancy: Chaos Rising:

Along with Thrawn’s appearance in Rebels, Zahn would pen a new novel, Thrawn, that chronicled the character’s early days as an Imperial officer. Zahn didn’t have to change anything with the character, telling me in 2017 that “he’s like an old friend who I understand completely.” While Heir to the Empire was no longer canon, a reader could easily read Thrawn as a precursor to that classic novel. Thrawn went on to become a major presence in Rebels, and Zahn continued to explore his origins in Thrawn: Alliances and Thrawn: Treason.

The next day, an interview with IGN was published on the same subject:

Thrawn is an especially unique case because Zahn has been able to effectively continue the work he started way back in 1991 with Heir to the Empire. That novel may not be a part of official Star Wars lore any longer, but as Zahn explained, Thrawn himself is basically the same character regardless of continuity.

[....] The closest comparison between Chaos Rising and Zahn's earlier EU work is probably 2006's Outbound Flight, which is set during the Clone Wars and details the first encounter between Thrawn and the Galactic Republic (while also retroactively laying the groundwork for elements of Heir to the Empire). That novel is no longer canon, but Zahn told us he prefers to operate as if it were. He's making a concerted effort not to retread the same ground as Outbound Flight and to avoid contradicting the events of that novel as much as possible.

So yeah. In Zahn's opinion, Legends Thrawn is Canon Thrawn is Book Thrawn, and there is no difference whatsoever between Thrawns in, say, Outbound Flight, Heir to The Empire, Alliances, and Chaos Rising. I wholeheartedly disagree, but lets move on.

Now that the books are out of the way, its time for Rebels.

In July of 2016, after the trailer announcing Thrawn's canon debut aired, Dave Filoni had the following to say about Thrawn's character in regards to Timothy Zahn:

“I was pretty adamant with a couple of people saying, ‘Listen, we need to have Tim sign off on this. This is kind of a waste of time [otherwise],'” says Filoni. “We, of course, can do what we want with a character that Lucasfilm owns, but without Tim’s okay, what does it mean? That’s not going to be good. Once we had some stuff, we wanted to do what we thought was right and make the character. Then we brought him in. We had the production fully prepared. I said, ‘Look, if there’s something that Tim says that I think is really valuable, even if it changes something dynamically, we need to be ready for that and see what we can do.’ I wanted to make sure we did this right by everybody. We brought him in and we didn’t really tell him why. We just flew him up to Lucasfilm and sat him down in a theater and said, ‘Hey, we’re bringing Thrawn into the show.’ He was like, ‘Wow.’ and I said, ‘Yeah, wow. And I’m going to show him to you right now and you let me know what you think.'”

(Before we continue, keep that first highlighted sentence in mind for future reference. I'm going to come back to that later.)

Fortunately, Timothy Zahn was delighted at the show’s approach to the Empire’s imposing blue-skinned Chiss.

“We showed him some of the scenes with him,” Dave Filoni recalls. “He looked like a kid in a candy store. I think it meant a lot to him not just because it was his character, but because you have to imagine what he went through when it was announced that everything is Legends now, not Expanded Universe. I get that and I’ve always appreciated the work that goes into the Expanded Universe… For Tim, I think it was us saying, ‘No, no, no. We really like your character. We want him to be part of the real thing. The canon universe.'”

So in 2016, before we even saw Thrawn in action beyond a trailer, we were told that Zahn gave the OK, and he was chill with the way Thrawn was created in the show. In 2017, he gave a little more of the background of this process in an interview with FANgirl Blog:

The events of Thrawn dovetail closely with Rebels and shed light on some of Thrawn’s more seemingly surprising actions on the show, like when he appears to lose his temper and yell at Lieutenant Lyste. What was it like to see Thrawn come alive onscreen? Is he how you’ve pictured him in your head?

I don’t see my characters in terms of voice or appearance, but rather as personality or attitude. That said, I very much enjoyed the way the Rebels team brought him to life, in his appearance, voice, and actions.

I also appreciated the freedom I had to tweak certain incidents, such as the one you mentioned, and give additional or alternate explanations for the viewers who may have thought those were somewhat out of character for him.

He doesn't really elaborate on this, but we can assume he had SOME creative input on Thrawn's character, and he was overall pretty happy with the choices made in the show.

But then, we have this from that earlier 2017 the Verge article:

When did you learn that Dave Filoni was intending to bring Thrawn to Rebels, and did you have any input into how the character would be handled?

[...] I didn’t have any real input into how Thrawn was going to be handled, mainly because the lead time of an animated series is so long that much of season 3 had already been finished. But I trusted Dave and the team to do the character right. After all, why bring him into Rebels if you were going to drastically change him? Having seen the entire season now, I think we can agree that my trust was completely justified.

So... he didn't have "any real input," but was satisfied with it in the end? I guess? I don't know. We're getting into some contradictions now.

The last thing I've got in regards to Rebels is an interview Zahn did with the YouTube channel Star Wars Explained after the finale aired, where he responds to the following:

“So, maybe let's jump over to Rebels for a little bit. Now that it has wrapped up, how do you feel Thrawn was represented in Star Wars: Rebels?”

“They did a really good job—they not only understood the character and how to write for him, but they also understood the meta around how you defeat him. The only way to defeat Thrawn is to throw something at him he can't control, or can't anticipate. Given perfect knowledge and control, Thrawn will always find a way to win. But they understood, this is how you defeat him, these are the things we can use against him... so his portrayal in general, is very good; he's smart, he's anticipating, he's a step ahead of everybody, he's looking at clues and picking up on them, so I was very pleased with how the Rebels team handled the character."

I think these quotes answer many of your questions, so to answer your initial question: If Zhan had been the writer for Rebels, do I think he would have had Thrawn bomb Lothal to bring Ezra out?

Yes—but ONLY because at that point, the only established™️ Thrawn content was found in Legends, where Thrawn was a ruthless and calculating warlord.

However!

I do believe that if given the chance to re-write the Star Wars: Rebels finale using his now-canon novels as a solid background TODAY, Zahn would choose to not let Thrawn bombard Lothal's Capital City.

I believe this because he made one single very interesting creative choice when writing Thrawn that completely overwrote Thrawn's pre-established Rebels character: Thrawn was not responsible for the civilian deaths on Batonn—Pryce was.

And that's that on that.

A few months ago I would have ended it there, but today, Thrawn's story is no longer just contained in the novels and Rebels, but also in that of The Mandalorian.

This is where I will proudly say I have no idea what the fuck is going on. Before The Jedi aired, I was 100% sure that the next time we saw Thrawn, it would be nowhere NEAR the Empire, because Zahn was pretty adamant in the novels that Thrawn was only in the Empire to help. His. People.

So now he's apparently doing fuck-knows-what in fuck-knows-where and is STILL associated with the Seventh Fleet and Imperial Warlords???

Huh??? Despite the fact that he held no true loyalty to the Empire or to the Emperor??? It's been months and I'm still confused as fuck. Add to the fact that Zahn also doesn't know what the fuck is going on to the equation and we get a big fat question mark with one pretty clear answer that Filoni said himself that we have to keep in mind:

"We, of course, can do what we want with a character that Lucasfilm owns."

So I don't think Zahn has much control over Thrawn as we would all like to think. We can hope he gives us the crazy Thrawn and Ezra Space Adventure™️ novel all we want, but ultimately, Thrawn's fate does not rest in his hands.

If you guys have more to add please let me know!!! This is, obviously, a topic I am very passionate about, so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

[testudoaubrei-blog]

Content note for discussions of eternal damnation, and all sorts of other shit that will trigger a lot of folks with religious trauma.

Before I get started I might as well explain where I’m coming from - unlike a lot of She-Ra fans, and a lot of queer people, I don’t have much religious trauma, or any, maybe (okay there were a number of years I was convinced I was going to hell, but that happens to everyone, right?). I was raised a liberal Christian by liberal Christian parents in the Episcopal Church, where most of my memories are overwhelmingly positive. Fuck, growing up in the 90’s, Chuch was probably the only place outside my home I didn’t have homophobia spewed at me. Because it was the 90’s and it was a fucking hellscape of bigotry where 5 year olds knew enough to taunt each other with homophobic slurs and the adults didn’t know enough to realize how fucked up that was. Anyway. This is my experience, but it is an atypical one, and I know it. Quite frankly I know that my experience of Christianity has very little at all to do with what most people experienced, or what people generally mean when they talk about Christianity as a cultural force in America today. So if you were raised Christian and you don’t recognize your theology here, congrats, neither do I, but these ideas and cultural forces are huge and powerful and dominant. And it’s this dominant Christian narrative that I’m referring to in this post. As well as, you know, a children’s cartoon about lesbian rainbow princesses. So here it goes. This is going to get batshit.

"All events whatsoever are governed by the secret counsel of God." - John Calvin

“We’re all just a bunch of wooly guys” - Noelle Stevenson

This is a post triggered by a single scene, and a single line. It’s one of the most fucked-up scenes in She-Ra, toward the end of Save the Cat. Catra, turned into a puppet by Prime, struggles with her chip, desperately trying to gain control of herself, so lost and scared and vulnerable that she flings aside her own death wish and her pride and tearfully begs Adora to rescue her. Adora reaches out , about to grab her, and then Prime takes control back, pronounces ‘disappointing’ and activates the kill switch that pitches Catra off the platform and to her death (and seriously, she dies here, guys - also Adora breaks both her legs in the fall). But before he does, he dismisses Catra with one of his most chilling lines. “Some creatures are meant only for destruction.”

And that’s when everyone watching probably had their heart broken a little bit, but some of the viewers raised in or around Christianity watching the same scene probably whispered ‘holy shit’ to themselves. Because Prime’s line - which works as a chilling and callous dismissal of Catra - is also an allusion to a passage from the Bible. In fact, it’s from one of the most fucked up passages in a book with more than its share of fucked up passages. It’s from Romans 9:22, and I’m going to quote several previous verses to give the context of the passage (if not the entire Epistle, which is more about who needs to abide by Jewish dietary restrictions but was used to construct a systematic theology in the centuries afterwards because people decided it was Eternal Truth).

19 Thou wilt say then unto me, Why doth he yet find fault? For who hath resisted his will?

20 Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?

21 Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?

22 What if God, willing to shew his wrath, and to make his power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath fitted to destruction:

The context of the allusion supports the context in the show. Prime is dismissing Catra - serial betrayer, liar, failed conqueror, former bloody-handed warlord - as worthless, as having always been worthless and fit only to be destroyed. He is speaking from a divine and authoritative perspective (because he really does think he’s God, more of this in my TL/DR Horde Prime thing). Prime is echoing not only his own haughty dismissal of Catra, and Shadow Weaver’s view of her, but also perhaps the viewer’s harshest assessment of her, and her own worst fears about herself. Catra was bad from the start, doomed to destroy and to be destroyed. A malformed pot, cracked in firing, destined to be shattered against a wall and have her shards classified by some future archaeologist 2,000 years later. And all that’s bad enough.

But the full historical and theological context of this passage shows the real depth of Noelle Stevenson’s passion and thought and care when writing this show. Noelle was raised in Evangelical or Fundamentalist Christianity. To my knowledge, he has never specified what sect or denomination, but in interviews and her memoir Noelle has shown a particular concern for questions that this passage raises, and a particular loathing for the strains of Protestant theology that take this passage and run with it - that is to say, Calvinism. So while I’m not sure if Noelle was raised as a conservative, Calvinist Presbyterian, his preoccupation with these questions mean that it’s time to talk about Calvinism.

It would be unfair, perhaps, to say that Calvinism is a systematic theology built entirely upon the Epistles of Romans and Galatians, but only -just- (and here my Catholic readers in particular will chuckle to themselves and lovingly stroke their favorite passage of the Epistle of James). The core of Calvinist Doctrine is often expressed by the very Dutch acronym TULIP:

Total Depravity - people are wholly evil, and incapable of good action or even willing good thoughts or deeds

Unconditional Election - God chooses some people to save because ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, not because they did anything to deserve, trigger or accept it

Limited Atonement - Jesus died only to save the people God chose to save, not the rest of us bastards

Irresistible Grace - God chooses some people to be saved - if you didn’t want to be saved, too bad, God said so.

Perseverance of the Saints - People often forget this one and assume it’s ‘predestination’ but it’s actually this - basically, once saved by God, always saved, and if it looks like someone falls out of grace, they were never saved to begin with. Well that’s all sealed up tight I guess.

Reading through these, predestination isn’t a single doctrine in Calvinism but the entire theological underpinnings of it together with humanity’s utter powerlessness before sin. Basically God has all agency, humanity has none. Calvinism (and a lot of early modern Protestantism) is obsessed with questions of how God saves people (grace alone, AKA Sola Fides) and who God saves (the people god elects and only the people God elects, and fuck everyone else).

It’s apparent that Noelle was really taken by these questions, and repelled by the answers he heard. He’s alluded to having a tattoo refuting the Gospel passage about Sheep and Goats being sorted at the end times, affirming instead that ‘we’re all just a bunch of wooly guys’ (you can see this goat tattoo in some of his self-portraits in comics, etc). He’s also mentioned that rejecting and subverting destiny is a huge part of everything he writes as a particular rejection of the idea that some individual people are 'chosen' by God or that God has a plan for any of us. You can see that -so clearly- in Adora’s arc, where Adora embraces and then rejects destiny time and again and finally learns to live life for herself.

But for Catra, we’re much more concerned about the most negative aspect of this - the idea that some people are vessels meant for destruction. And that’s something else that Noelle is preoccupied with. In her memoir in the section about leaving the church and becoming a humanistic atheist, there is a drawing of a pot and the question ‘Am I a vessel prepared for destruction?’ Obviously this was on Noelle’s mind (And this is before he came out to himself as queer!).

To look at how this question plays out in Catra’s entire arc, let’s first talk about how ideas of damnation and salvation actually play out in society. And for that I’m going to plug one of my favorite books, Gin Lun’s Damned Nation: Hell in America from the Revolution to Reconstruction (if you can tell by now, I am a fucking blast at parties). Lun tells the long and very interesting story about, how ideas of hell and who went there changed during the Early American Republic. One of the interesting developments that she talks about is how while at first people who were repelled by Calvinism started moving toward a doctrine of universal salvation (no on goes to hell, at least not forever*), eventually they decided that hell was fine as long as only the right kind of people went there. Mostly The Other - non-Christian foreigners, Catholics, Atheists, people who were sinners in ways that were not just bad but weird and violated Victorian ideas of respectability. Really, Hell became a way of othering people, and arguably that’s how it survives today, especially as a way to other queer people (but expanding this is slated for my Montero rant). Now while a lot of people were consciously rejecting Calvinist predestination, they were still drawing the distinction between the Elect (good, saved, worthwhile) and the everyone else (bad, damned, worthless). I would argue that secularized ideas of this survive to this day even among non-Christian spaces in our society - we like to draw lines between those who Elect, and those who aren’t.

And that’s what brings us back to Catra. Because Catra’s entire arc is a refutation of the idea that some people are worthless and irredeemable, either by nature, nurture or their own actions. Catra’s actions strain the conventions of who is sympathetic in a Kid’s cartoon - I’ve half joked that she’s Walter White as a cat girl, and it’s only half a joke. She’s cruel, self-deluded, she spends 4 seasons refusing to take responsibility for anything she does and until Season 5 she just about always chooses the thing that does the most damage to herself and others. As I mentioned in my Catra rant, the show goes out of its way to demonstrate that Catra is morally culpable in every step of her descent into evil (except maybe her break with reality just before she pulls the lever). The way that Catra personally betrays everyone around her, the way she strips herself of all of her better qualities and most of what makes her human, hell even her costume changes would signal in any other show that she’s irredeemable.

It’s tempting to see this as Noelle’s version of being edgy - pushing the boundaries of what a sympathetic character is, throwing out antiheroics in favor of just making the villain a protagonist. Noelle isn’t quite Alex ‘I am in the business of traumatizing children’ Hirsch, who seems to have viewed his job as pushing the bounds of what you could show on the Disney Channel (I saw Gravity Falls as an adult and a bunch of that shit lives rent free in my nightmares forever), but Noelle has his own dark side, mostly thematically. The show’s willingness to deal with abuse, and messed up religious themes, and volatile, passionate, not particularly healthy relationships feels pretty daring. I’m not joking when I gleefully recommend this show to friends as ‘a couple from a Mountain Goats Song fights for four seasons in a cartoon intended for 9 year olds’. Noelle is in his own way pushing the boundaries of what a kids show can do. If you read Noelle’s other works like Nimona, you see an argument for Noelle being at least a bit edgy. Nimona is also angry, gleefully destructive, violent and spiteful - not unlike Catra. Given that it was a 2010s webcomic and not a kids show, Nimona is a good deal worse than Catra in some ways - Catra doesn’t kill people on screen, while Nimona laughs about it (that was just like, a webcomic thing - one of the fan favorite characters in my personal favorite, Narbonic, was a fucking sociopath, and the heroes were all amoral mad scientists, except for the superintelligent gerbil**). But unlike Nimona, whose fate is left open ended, Catra is redeemed.

And that is weird. We’ve had redemption arcs, but generally not of characters with -so- much vile stuff in their history. Going back to the comparison between her and Azula, many other shows, like Avatar, would have made Catra a semi-sympathetic villain who has a sob-story in their origin but who is beyond redemption, and in so doing would articulate a kind of psychologized Calvinism where some people are too traumatized to ever be fully and truly human. I’d argue this is the problem with Azula as a character - she’s a fun villain, but she doesn’t have moral agency, and the ultimate message of her arc - that she’s a broken person destined only to hurt people - is actually pretty fucked up. And that’s the origin story of so many serial killers and psycopaths that populate so many TV shows and movies. Beyond ‘hurt people hurt people’ they have nothing to teach us except perhaps that trauma makes you a monster and that the only possible response to people doing bad things is to cut them out of your life and out of our society (and that’s why we have prisons, right?)

And so Catra’s redemption and the depths from which she claws herself back goes back to Noelle’s desire to prove that no person is a vessel ‘fitted for destruction.’ Catra goes about as far down the path of evil as we’ve ever seen a protagonist in a kids show go, and she still has the capacity for good. Importantly, she is not subject to total depravity - she is capable of a good act, if only one at first. Catra is the one who begins her own redemption (unlike in Calvinism, where grace is unearned and even unwelcomed) - because she wants something better than what she has, even if its too late, because she realizes that she never wanted any of this anyway, because she wants to do one good thing once in her life even if it kills her.

The very extremity of Catra’s descent into villainy serves to underline the point that Noelle is trying to make - that no one can be written off completely, that everyone is capable of change, and that no human being is garbage, no matter how twisted they’ve become. Meanwhile her ability to set her own redemption in motion is a powerful statement of human agency, and healing, and a refutation of Calvinism’s idea that we are powerless before sin or pop cultural tropes about us being powerful before the traumas of our upbringing. Catra’s arc, then, is a kind of anti-Calvinist theological statement - about the nature of people and the nature of goodness.

Now, there is a darker side to this that Noelle has only hinted at, but which is suggested by other characters on the show. Because while Catra’s redemption shows that people are capable of change, even when they’ve done horrible things, been fucked up and fucked themselves up, it also illustrates the things people do to themselves that make change hard. As I mentioned in my Catra rant, two of the most sinister parts of her descent into villainy are her self-dehumanization (crushing her own compassion and desire to do good) and her rewriting of her own history in her speech and memory to make her own actions seem justified (which we see with her insistence that Adora left her, eliding Adora’s offers to have Catra join her, or her even more clearly false insistence that Entrapta had betrayed them). In Catra, these processes keep her going down the path of evil, and allow her to nearly destroy herself and everyone else. But we can see the same processes at work in two much darker figures - Shadow Weaver and Horde Prime. These are both rants for another day, but the completeness of Shadow Weaver’s narcissistic self-justification and cultivated callousness and the even more complete narcissism of Prime’s god complex cut both characters off from everyone around them. Perhaps, in a theoretical sense, they are still redeemable, but for narrative purposes they might as well be damned.

This willingness to show a case where someone -isn’t- redeemed actually serves to make Catra’s redemption more believable, especially since Noelle and the writers draw the distinction between how Catra and SW/Prime can relate to reality and other people, not how broken they are by their trauma (unlike Zuko and Azula, who are differentiated by How Fucked Uolp They Are). Redemption is there, it’s an option, we can always do what is right, but someone people will choose not to, in part because doing the right thing involves opening ourselves to the world and others, and thus being vulnerable. Noelle mentions this offhandedly in an interview after Season 1 with the She-Ra Progressive of Power podcast - “I sometimes think that shades of grey, sympathetic villains are part of the escapist fantasy of shows like this.” Because in the real world, some people are just bastards, a point that was particularly clear in 2017. Prime and Shadow Weaver admit this reality, while Catra makes a philosophical point that even the bastards can change their ways (at least in theory).

*An idea first proposed in the second century by Origen, who’s a trip and a fucking half by himself, and an idea that becomes the Catholic doctrine of purgatory, which protestants vehemently denied!

**Speaking of favorite Noelle tropes

[jj-babebank]

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 8

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4; Part 5 ; Part 6 ; Part 7

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 8 –

49 days of summer camp left

Caroline sat in her bed, hugging her knees against her chest. Her and JJ had the afternoon off and despite his attempts to lure her into hanging out, and her infatuation with the boy, she’d turned him down, wanting to spend a few hours alone with herself to compose her thoughts. It had been exactly two weeks since the night Madison disappeared. No one had bothered to mess with the campers since then, the bonfire area hadn’t been touched and no dead animals were found in anyone’s suitcase. To the rest of the camp, this seemed like victory; to Caroline – it seemed like the calm before the storm.

During their first day at Camp Willowdale, all of the counselors had been given a Willowdale-branded set of items they’d have to use during their stay. It came with the obvious STAFF t-shirts, sweaters and hats, but it also consisted of other things – such as the thermoses Caroline and JJ were still using to sneak whiskey into their daily routines, and notebooks in which they were advised to plan out their group’s daily schedules. Caroline however had been using her notebook for other purposes. She’d become so obsessed with Madison’s case, that every little thing that happened on camp grounds and seemed even a little out of the ordinary, immediately became a clue to her, which she’d hastily scribble down in her notebook. It had only been two weeks since the disappearance of Madison Hague and Caroline had already filled about a quarter of the pages of her hefty notebook with potential clues and leads. She kept rereading her notes, trying to think of something – anything – that they could do to help them solve the mystery, however nothing was coming to her. Ever since the dress incident, Caroline and her friends hadn’t found anything else that could relate to Madison, though Caroline was glad that none of them had given up on their mission.

Caroline was so deep in her own thoughts, she nearly jumped at the sound of a sudden knock on the door. She quickly closed her notebook and tucked it under her mattress and went to open the door, revealing a panting JJ leaning on the doorframe.

“Hey, C,” he breathed.

“JJ, what’re you doing here? I told you I -”

JJ cut her off by pushing past her and walking into her cabin, “Yeah, yeah, you wanna be alone, I know,” he sat on her bed, taking his snapback off, “but I was thinking… you’ve been so busy with the kids and with the whole Madison thing, and believe me – I really appreciate you for being like that, but -”

Caroline crossed her arms, “Where are you going with this?”

JJ sighed, “You’ve just totally forgotten how to have fun, C,” he said, “The primary reason that we all came here was to have fun and look at you – you barely eat, or sleep, or do anything other than your counselor duties and this whole Madison investigation thing…” JJ sighed again, looking at the hat in his lap and playing with its adjustable strap, “All I’m saying, C, is what if Madison really did go home and you’ve just wasted all this energy on nothing…Thing is,” JJ looked up into her eyes, “I miss you, the old you, and I know that that you’s still somewhere in there, it’s just this whole Madison thing blocking it.” he placed the hat back on his head and stood up, walking towards Caroline, “Hang out with me now,” he said, stopping directly in front of her and lifting her chin up so that she was facing him, “And I promise we’ll think about Madison later,”

Caroline couldn’t really process what was going on. JJ was touching her and standing in such an intimate distance from her, that she could basically feel his breath on her face. For a second she forgot all about Madison, and the dead owl, and the bonfire area. All she could think about was JJ Maybank, who had just told her that he misses her and wants to “hang out with her”. Caroline stood there, lost in thought. What if he was right? What if Madison really did go home and that dress never even belonged to her? What if it was Jenna Kinley’s all along and Sarah had just gotten the perfume wrong? What if JJ really did miss her because he liked her as more than a friend? No, no, that couldn’t be it. But what if –

“Um, Carrie?” JJ’s voice suddenly broke her out of her trans, “So d’you wanna do something together or -”

“Yes!” she said, a little too excitedly for her own taste, of course I’d like to hang out with you, JJ, she thought, “What do you want to do?”

JJ’s face immediately lit up at her words, “Well I was thinking perhaps a picnic?”

Caroline raised an eyebrow, “Don’t picnics require food? We don’t have access to anything unless it’s mealtime,”

“Yeah, but we do have whiskey,” JJ winked with a mischievous look on his face, walking towards the storage room of the girls’ cabin where they still had a few bottles of alcohol left.

Caroline rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless – this was going to finally be her first date with JJ Maybank. Well, sort of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The afternoon sun was low in the sky, casting a beautiful orange reflection onto the peaceful water of lake Willowdale. Caroline and JJ had taken a seat on the lakefront, drinking their whiskeys and admiring the sunset, reminiscing the days when they were kids again.

“D’you remember that one summer when Rafe Cameron got food poisoning and ended up barfing on stage at the Will-all-hail banquet?” JJ laughed at the memory.

Caroline frowned, thinking about it, “Beats having Rafe Cameron as your counselor by a mile,”

JJ turned to look at her, eyebrows raised, “Rafe was a counselor here?” his tone almost sounding amused.

Caroline nodded, “Oh yeah,” she smirked, “For the same reason as Sarah – too stuck up for his own good so their dad shipped him over here as a punishment,”

JJ snorted, “I mean that family is pretty far up their own ass,”

“They have a sister too,” said Caroline, “I haven’t seen her around here though, so we at least know that one of them must be doing something right,”

The pair laughed at the thought of their spoiled friend and her older brother.

“Man, I missed this place,” said JJ suddenly, leaning back on his elbows.

His tone sounded different as he looked at the horizon and Caroline could sense that something wasn’t right, “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask -”

“Parents got divorced,” JJ quickly explained, “And unfortunately for me, my dad got custody,” he sighed, “Somehow my mom was deemed ‘incapable’ of taking care of me because she couldn’t financially afford to. Load of bullshit, if you ask me,”

“But my mom -”

“Yeah, they still talk,” said JJ, knowing what Caroline was about to say, “I still see my mom every other weekend, you know, it’s not the end of the world,” he smiled at Caroline reassuringly, “It’s just living with my old man meant working for my cut at home, which also meant summer jobs back in Kildare,”

“So that’s where you’ve been all this time…” whispered Caroline, mostly to herself, however JJ heard her.

“Yeah,” he responded, “Now that I’m old enough to be a counselor here and actually get paid for coming to summer camp I thought why not? Besides, your mom did tip mine off that you’d be here too,” he winked at Caroline, making her blush.

“Yeah, about that,” she said apologetically, “My mom likes to yap a lot, I wouldn’t take most of what she says seriously,”

“Well you are here, aren’t you?” said JJ, his face slightly leaning in towards Caroline’s.

Holy shit, this was it. Caroline was about to kiss JJ Maybank after a decade of fawning over him. Shit, shit, shit, she hadn’t really kissed anyone since that idiot from her class planted one on her at prom. What if she was a bad kisser? What if she’d forgotten how to kiss? As JJ closed his eyes and leaned even closer, Caroline decided to push the doubtful thoughts to the side as she closed her eyes too, leaning in towards him too. Their faces were inches apart, hearts pounding in their chests and, just as their lips were finally about to meet –

“There you are!” Sarah’s loud voice came from the hill behind them, startling them and making them both jump and immediately pull apart and straighten up. John B stumbled after her.

Caroline coughed awkwardly, trying to cover up the shame and embarrassment she was currently feeling, “Sarah… what are you doing here?”

With a knowing smirk on her face, Sarah put both hands on her hips, “Nothing,” she sing-sang, obviously finding the whole situation hilarious, “I’m sure it can wait,” she winked down at Caroline, while John B was waving around frantically behind Sarah at JJ, mouthing the words “DID YOU BONE?!” quite obviously.

JJ groaned as he stood up, helping Caroline up as well, “We’re all yours now, Sarah, what’s up?”

“Well me and John B had the afternoon free as well, so we went out front to his van and you’ll never believe what was taped to the door,”

“Wait, why’d you go to his van in the first place?”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “That’s beside the point now, Carrie, look” she shoved a piece of paper in the girl’s hands.

As Caroline unfolded the paper, the group gathered around her to look at what was written on it - 41° 56’ 54.3732” N, 87° 39’ 19.2024” W.

“I have no idea what that means though,” confessed Sarah.

“Looks like coordinates to me,” said JJ.

“Hey, that’s what I said!” gasped John B, “But Sarah didn’t want to believe me,”

“Does anyone know how to read geographical coordinates?” JJ looked at his friends.

“Do I look like Google Maps to you?” asked Sarah.

“You’re right,” Caroline said as an idea sparked in her mind, “We can’t read coordinates, but I know someone who can,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“I’m just saying, Miss P,” JJ spoke confidently once the group was inside Pricilla’s office, “Now’s about the best time to host the traditional yearly treasure hunt,”

Pricilla squinted up at JJ through her pink glasses from where she was sat at her desk, “Keep talking, Maybank,”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that it’s already been two weeks and none of these kids can read a compass yet?” continued JJ, earning a slow nod from the camp director, “Think about it, Miss P – Willowdale ain’t Willowdale without its treasure hunt,”

As JJ spoke, the rest of the group were silently praying behind him that his charismatic way with manipulating will work on Pricilla, giving them an excuse to ask her to decipher the mysterious coordinates they had gotten their hands onto. The old lady leaned back in her old leather chair and looked at JJ skeptically for a while, adding to the already built up tension.

“Give me a few days to map out the course and set up the coordinates,” she finally spoke, causing everyone in the group to silently cheer behind JJ. As they thanked her and turned to leave, she spoke up again, “Oh, and Maybank,” she called, everyone turning to look at her, “No funny business,”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Finally some normal camp activities. Thank you for reading so far, I would greatly appreciate you letting me know what you think about the story and the characters xxx

tags: @k-k0129 ; @hayleyy-l ; @marvellover04 ; @dumbasscorn ; @thrown-off-her-rhythm

[tenthgrove]

Can I request la squadra discovering their Fem!Teammate (who's like in her early 30s) is actually a mother, who joined Passione to pay for her 5 y.o daughter's hospital expenses, and she sometimes secretly goes to visit her and spend time with her.

Mother Mother

La Squadra x Reader, Platonic, SFW

Risotto has always kept an eye on his squadmates. It’s not that he would ever entertain the thought of one of them betraying him, even a relatively new member such as yourself. It’s just that with La Squadra’s status in Passione, he’s always feared one of you being used against him against your will.

It’s for this reason that Risotto became concerned by your twice monthly trips away from the base. Risotto doesn’t usually police his underlings’ activities, but the solemn look on your face each time you leave is cause for deep concern. Perhaps if you weren’t so secretive about your reasons, he wouldn’t have to go to the lengths of spying on you.

Risotto catches sight of your car as you pull into the hospital parking lot. There’s a definite weariness about you as you cross quickly towards the entrance. Risotto activates his invisibility and follows.

As you speak with the receptionist, Risotto is fixed on which department you will turn to. Are you sick and hiding it? Pregnant? But then, you surprise him. You turn to the children’s ward.

Risotto follows you past white corridors and waiting rooms. The nurses address you by name, he notices. It seems you’re a regular visitor. Finally, you arrive in a large ward of lonely pods. In each one lies a sick or injured child. He cannot ignore the fact that the one you head towards looks exactly like you.

As you caress the little girl’s cheek, Risotto comes to realise what’s been happening with you all these months. These trips, this sorrow, it was all for your child. A child Risotto didn’t even know you had.

Risotto leaves you be as you talk with your daughter. He feels guilty, undeserving of being present in this conversation. He’d always wondered how someone like you ended up in such a foul business as his, but if it’s really all for the sake of your daughter he doesn’t know if he can bare to keep ordering you on such dangerous tasks.

He can’t cut you out either, that could be detrimental for your sick offspring.

::::::::::::

Risotto goes home and seeks out Melone. It really ought to show the desperation of the situation he’s in that he’d fall on Melone for advice, but the strange man is the only person he can think of who might possibly guide his conscience on such a matter.

“Melone, a word please,” Risotto demands, swinging open the door of the other man’s bedroom. Melone hums and sits up from his nap, pulling off his night-mask to rub his eyes.

“If this is about the vibrator, I swear I didn’t mean to have it delivered here.”

“I- what- no. It isn’t about anything like that. I need your advice,” Risotto explains. Melone taps his fingers excitedly and crosses his legs.

“Oh, by all means go on then!”

“If, hypothetically, a person like us were to have… unavoidable other commitments, how would you say it should be tackled?” Risotto asks.

“Clarify.”

“Family commitments. Children, to be precise,” Risotto elaborates. Melone tilts his head.

“Capo, did you knock someone up?”

“No! Don’t be ridiculous. I haven’t done anything of the sort!” Risotto insists. “Alright I’ll clarify some more. How do you think I, as this team’s leader, should support such a person?”

“…Oh, I understand,” Melone assures him. “It’s (y/n) who’s pregnant, isn’t it?”

“I… forget it. (Y/n) isn’t pregnant you fool. I don’t know why I bothered with you,” Risotto laments, shutting the door.

Melone, meanwhile, is unconvinced. Risotto’s defensive behaviour suggests to him his theory regarding your pregnancy may be right after all. This isn’t something he can leave alone.

Melone’s foremost concern is your wellbeing. You’re his friend, and he wants to make sure that your parenthood (should you choose to go through with it) is as easy for you as possible. There’s one person in particular who comes to mind when it comes to raising children in the mob.

::::::::::::

“Prosciutto!” Melone calls, entering the second-in-command’s bedroom as he enjoys a cigarette out his open window.

“What do you want, and what did I tell you about barging in?”

“Please Prosciutto? This is important,” Melone begs. Prosciutto turns around.

“Alright, get it over with.”

“Didn’t you say once that you raised Pesci? I’m curious how it was,” Melone enquires.

“I hardly raised him,” Prosciutto rolls his eyes. “His mother was a good woman, and perfectly capable of raising him herself, money aside. My role was mostly as a financial supporter and an occasional babysitter when my step-mother needed a day off.”

“Oh, I see. But how was it with Passione? How did you balance your commitments between them and family?”

“I’m not a fan of this line of questioning, Melone, but I’ll indulge you. It was hard, very hard. They made me join when Pesci was 6 and back even then they constantly held his life over my head. I couldn’t spend too much time with him for fear of seeming disloyal, but at the same time I feared what would happen if I turned my back too long.”

“Christ,” Melone exclaims. “That’s rough. I never knew it was that bad for you.”

“Are you going to tell me what this is all for now?” Prosciutto asks, cocking an eyebrow. Melone swallows.

“Well… I think (y/n) might be pregnant.”

“…What?!”

::::::::::::

“So that’s why we’re suspicious,” Prosciutto finishes. Formaggio stares at them wide-eyed.

“Fucking hell. I knew something was up, but pregnancy?” he exclaims.

“It’s serious, we know,” Melone affirms. “Risotto isn’t letting up so we need you to help us be certain. I’ve got all your DNA on record-”

“Creepy.”

“Regardless, I’ve got hers up on the tracker now, and I need you to take Baby Face and follow the dot until you find its location. Baby Face doesn’t show place names. If you’re spotted, you can shrink down, so it’s better you go than us. Got it?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll go,” Formaggio agrees, picking up the laptop and standing. “I’ll ring if I find anything.”

::::::::::::

Sure enough, 30 minutes later, Formaggio finds something. A hospital to be precise. He looks down at his screen, and back at the hospital. Nope, everything still checks out. There is no possible way the dot could be anywhere other than inside that building when it’s that close. You’re in there. You are in the hospital. Pregnant, near certainly.

Formaggio’s had enough shocks for one day.

Turning tail, Formaggio half-runs back down the pavement towards the base. He fumbles for his phone and calls Prosciutto. No answer. Thinking fast (but not well) he hits the next number in the list. Illuso’s.

“Illuso hi. It’s Formaggio! She’s definitely at the hospital like we thought!”

“…Are you high?”

“Oh fuck, did you not know? (Y/n)’s pregnant and Mel just found out!” Formaggio fills him in. There’s a long pause.

“Holy fucking shit! Get back here now and tell me more!”

::::::::::::

Shortly after this, the sitting room of the La Squadra base finds itself crowded with Melone, Prosciutto, Formaggio and Illuso all in frenzied discussion.

“This is insane. We can’t have a baby! In the hitman squad!” Illuso decries.

“We’re not recruiting the kid!” Melone reminds him.

“That’s not the point!” Prosciutto protests. Formaggio puts his hands up in a show of peace

“Okay okay can everyone please-”

“I AM CALM!”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS SHOUTING ABOUT?!” A voice calls. It’s Ghiaccio, standing in the hallway with Pesci at his side. The four men in the lounge look between each other nervously. Formaggio steps forwards.

“Ghiaccio, Pesci… let me fill you in on some things.”

::::::::::::

“RISOTTO WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU TELL US ABOUT THIS SOONER!”

Risotto Nero has seen a lot in his days, but never before has he had his office door kicked down by one of his own teammates, while in mid-conversation with two others.

“…Ghiaccio I beg your pardon.”

“(Y/n) was pregnant and you didn’t tell us about it?” Pesci says. “I was on a mission with her just last night! I could have done more to protect her if I’d known!”

“Risotto, I know you like to respect our privacy, but this is serious! If (y/n) is going to have this child then we need to have discussions about how it’s going to be feasible now. As a team,” Prosciutto argues. Risotto blinks.

“Capo, what on earth is going on?” Sorbet asks from by the window. Gelato, having clung onto him since the door fell, continues to look at the crowd in the doorway like… well, like they just busted the office door down.

Risotto takes a sip of his coffee, and sighs.

“I think you all may be under a severe misapprehension.”

::::::::::::

You get back to the base around 4pm, severely exhausted both emotionally and physically. Your daughter is stable, you’re assured, and clearly in better spirits than your last visit. With continued treatment, the doctor sees her out of the hospital and living comfortably with only minor supports within the year. But the bill to get her to that point will not be cheap. You honestly don’t know how you’ll manage it.

As you hang up your coat you are met with visitors. Sorbet and Gelato would like to speak with you, it seems.

“We’re glad to see you’re back. Could you follow us please? It won’t take a minute,” Gelato requests.

“Okay?” you agree, following them into the sitting room. Your entire team is present in dead silence, with Risotto at the helm in his usual chair. He is looking grave. This can’t be good.

Risotto gestures for you to sit down. You comply.

“(Y/n),” he begins. “We know about your daughter.”

Everything seems to go still. You cannot help it as tears well in your eyes. Before you know, you are crying in front of your teammates.

“We are willing to give some help,” Risotto announces. You look up from your tears. Did he just…

“We did some maths and we calculated that if we all pool together, we can pay half your daughter’s monthly bill every month for the immediate future, without any major changes to our lifestyle,” Sorbet announces. “We’re all happy to do that,” he adds, to a chorus of nods around the room.

“Additionally, we can look into getting her case transferred to a doctor on Passione’s payroll. It will be the same quality care or higher, and at a significant discount,” Melone suggests. Oh fuck, why didn’t you ever think of that?

“You would… you would all really do that for me?” you sob.

“And if it still isn’t enough, we’ll find a way. You can rely on us to help you, I swear it,” Risotto promises.

“Thank you… thank you all so much!”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Chris lying on top of someone getting cuddles plz Ash I beg of you

Follows on Time Apart, It Doesn’t Work As Well As You’d Hoped, and Learn to Fly

Their heartbeat is slow and steady underneath his ear, and his eyes close, letting himself dwell in the sound. His fingers twist in their shirt, relax, twist and relax, rubbing his thumbs over the seams of their binder underneath.

They hum, softly, a tuneless sound very nearly like his own, and that’s like drifting in a warm sea, floating on saltwater and feeling the sun on his skin. Their fingers gently move through his hair, blunt bitten nails not quite scratching his scalp, just rubbing with their fingertips.

The coffeeshop is quiet around them, emptied-out except for the two baristas who speak in low voices under the whirring of the espresso machine, handing drinks out the drive-thru window, bags of cookies and cannoli, a scone or three. They don’t ask if Chris and Laken need anything more.

They know that the need, as it stands now, isn’t for the coffee that’s gone cold in both their cups. It's for the space to have their quiet together, after time apart.

The rain pours, outside, a soft and subtle rush, like blood pulsing through the veins of the world. Blood goes into and out of the human heart, water goes up to the atmosphere and then back to earth. It’s the same.

The earth breathes.

So does Laken.

Chris, like a bird with wings open to the wind to rise, listens to it.

“I’m not afraid of you,” Laken murmurs, without pausing in the soft rhythm of their fingers. “Or of what happened to you, or of what it means for us. My future is with you, that hasn’t changed. I’ve never been afraid of you, Chris. Afraid for you a couple of times, sure, but never of you.”

“I’ll freeze up,” Chris says back, voice low. The music that plays over the speakers switches in a wild, odd swing between the sort of instrumental jazz Chris is used to and the occasional bouncy 80’s pop song. He wonders, in a detached way, which of the baristas has their iPod plugged in to the speakers. “Every, um. Every time. I can’t-... I can’t, can’t stop it right away. Ever.”

“I know,” Laken says. They’re on their back on the back, shoulders propped against the arm of the couch, head tipped back a little towards the ceiling. Chris lays on top of them, his own feet up on the couch’s arm at the other side, the soles of his worn-out slip-on shoes pointing up. His fingers run over the thick, smooth binder fabric under their t-shirt, back and forth, back and forth. His fingers skim along the edge where the black of the binder meets the skin over their lower ribs.

He mirrors the movement of their hand through his hair without realizing it.

“You, you, you shouldn’t-... someone who, um, who can’t... I'm, I'm fucked up, Laken."

“No one gets out of this life without some dings, baby,” Laken says, and their hand slips down, cups his jaw and gently encourages him to look up as they look down to meet his eyes. Theirs, always, are pools so deep and dark he can’t tell iris from pupil. Some of the long part of their hair falls forward, framing their face. “Nobody. Yours are a little rougher than some others, but I’ve got mine, too, you know? I love you, dings and all. We're fucked up but we're fucked up together."

“You don’t freeze.”

“No. I throw punches. And trust me, it’s not always the right response. Even if it feels good in the moment.”

“I, I, I wish I could fight.”

“You did.” Laken sighs, a low soft exhale, and he listens to the sound it within them as well as without. “You pushed her away. You said so yourself. You pushed her away and said no.”

“Not, not right away.”

“God, Chris. You’re even braver for fighting when your body is screaming at you not to. It’s not thoughtless, for you, like it is for me sometimes. You have to push past years of hurt in a couple of seconds. That’s big.”

“It, it, it feels… small.”

“Well, it’s not.” The firm matter-of-factness of their tone makes him smile, secretly, turning his head briefly so the expression is made against their sternum, the warmth of their skin that settles under his own.

“I’m going to to to to, um, to make, it, it harder on you,” He says, looking back up at them. He doesn’t like to look right into people’s eyes, never has, but it’s not so bad with them. Sometimes. And he knows they’ll let him look away when it’s too much. “You know? You, you should… you should maybe find someone else.”

“I should be there for the man I love,” Laken says, voice getting a little softer. There’s a clatter of metal steam-cups over by the counter, the baristas rinsing everything out during this slow time, when the nearly-overwhelming rain means no one is getting out of their car right now.

The two old men - Mr. Malley and Mr. Cilly - have gone back to their homes. It’s nearly lunchtime, and Chris’s stomach feels a little hollowed. He’ll get a scone in a little while, maybe. If he remembers.

“But... everyone who loves me dies, gets hurt, gets gets gets lost,” Chris whispers, feeling a sharp twist inside him. A grief and pain that was wiped away, pushed down by drugs but never fully destroyed. It rises in a wave to break against him, as if they have only just died, the two of them. His mother’s eyes fading as she told him it would be okay, in the end. His father had already been gone.

“That’s a goddamn lie,” Laken says, and there’s an insistence even in their half-whisper. “Jake’s still here. Nat’s still here. Antoni’s still here, Kauri’s still here. I’m still here. Hell, those weird old dudes seem to care about you and they’re still here, aren’t they?”

“But, but, but when I, when I tell everyone-”

“I’ll be right fucking there. Wherever you want me.”

“Everyone will know what I am.” They’re silent, but he can feel their correction behind their lips, barely held back, and he smiles, just a little. “Okay, okay. What I, um, what, what I had to do.”

“If that’s what you want to do, I support you. And I’m not turning away just because you’re doing something amazing, even if it’s dangerous.” They run a finger along his jaw, and their smile is bright, their teeth just slightly crooked in a way Chris loves. “I told you. My future is with you, and that’s a choice I made like a month after you said that you loved me the first time. I knew it was me and you, Chris. Whatever stands in our way, we’ll get through it.”

Chris blinks at them, thinking, and then his own smile widens. It’s still a little trembling, a little hesitant… but stronger. “Blow, um. Blow it apart and go through the wreckage.”

“What?” Laken blinks back at him.

He shakes his head, smiling and laying his ear back down over their heart, looking out the window at the driving rain. It’s made puddles in the parking lot, and he sees a bright white and red polka-dot umbrella as someone makes a mad dash for their car from the bookstore a few doors down.

“My mom,” He says, softly. “My, um. Mr. Malley said… my mom would, um, would would do that. If she couldn’t get over something, or around it, she’d… she’d she’d she’d go through it. Knock it it it it it down or, or, or, um, blow it up."

“Then let’s make like your mom,” Laken says, softly. “And blow WRU to bits and walk right through whatever’s left of their bullshit and build our life there. Take their wreckage and make a statue out of it. Or a hammer. Which we will then bash them with."

He laughs, against them, and they laugh, too.

He's missed the sound of their laughter so much.

When their hand moves down, he grabs onto it. Their fingers are warm, as always. Warm and dry, the perfect counterpoint to the weather. They press a kiss to his hair and he lets his eyes close, enjoying the feeling.

“Do, um. Do do do do you want to meet her?”

“Who?”

“My mom. And, um, I guess, I guess my dad, too. I I I I know where they are, now. Where they’re… they’re buried.”

Laken inhales sharply. “Since when?”

“Akio, um, told me. Do, do you want to… meet them?”

“Sure.” Laken hesitates, then adds in a kind of nervous feigned humor, “What if your mom doesn’t like me?”

Chris thinks of the woman in his mind, still fuzzy around the edges and with a voice he can only remember when he isn’t thinking too much about it. Dark hair and a bright laugh, holding him tightly when he needed it and letting him run when he needed that instead. The woman who went to every single practice and meet, who had been so excited for him to qualify for the national elite team alongside Akio. He can almost see her clearly, if he keeps his eyes closed and forces his way around the headache that still tries to push her back into the light.

“I think,” He murmurs, “She, she, she, she would have liked you. A lot. And and and and probably been mad it took me so, um, so so so long to bring you by."

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

[dumdumsun]

And Dusk

A/N: It's family dinner time, babes!!

Warnings: none that I'm aware of

Word Count: 3629

—————————————

Chapter 12: Team Zero

Striding into the steam-clouded sauna where the two remaining Swedish assassins now silently relaxed, The Handler began an unprompted conversation in their language. “All the new age remedies out there, but nothing beats a good schvitz when it comes to stress,” As she sat on the bench, the two men carefully watched her. “My job can be stressful, sure. But I can’t imagine what it must be like for you boys.” She batted her eyelashes.

“Do we know you?” The Swede, who appeared to be the leader, questioned. The Handler kept her head turned forward as she stared down.

“No. But I know all about you,” Standing from the bench, she quietly chuckled and walked to the center of the sauna, the steam crawling its way up to her neck. “However, seems you’ve run into some problems on this job.”

“Just a snag.” He tilted his head.

“You lost your brother. I’d call that more than a snag.”

Snapping, the second Swede pushed off the wall and marched up to The Handler. Before he could get too close, he grunted when she grabbed hold of his manhood, freezing his steps. She watched as his mouth fell open in pain. “What if I can give you the location of the knife-hurling dolt responsible for blowing up your beloved brother?”

The first Swede tilted his head. “Who are you?”

“Somebody you’re going to want to know.” Her eyes never left the man she was assaulting. The second Swede finally found the breath within him to speak.

“Unharm my weiner.” He wheezed in English, The Handler kindly doing as he asked, a smile on her face. He sighed and stepped away as his brother held up the hand that had been twirling a knife the entire time.

“Go on.”

At his words, she turned to him. “I’ll give you the exact location of the one you’re looking for. Diego. The rest… I’ll leave up to your imaginations.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Let’s just say that his little game of ‘Hide the Sausage’ with my daughter needs a swift end. I just have one request,” The Handler approached the first Swede, the two in close proximity now. He watched her every move. “Don’t hurt the little one with the cute socks… and the other with the face scars.”

Lifting his chin, he furrowed his brows. “We’ve already killed her.” He mumbled. She only chuckled in amusement, the two men stiffening at the realization that their target may not have been executed like they thought.

-------------------------------------------------

The clicking of Reginald and (Y/N)’s shoes against the marble floor echoed throughout the hallway they walked down. The young girl was desperately trying to keep up with her father’s long strides, her puppy in her arms and her heart beating out of her chest. If they had actually complied, she was going to reveal her true whereabouts for the past two years to her family. They were going to know that the entire time they had been looking for Reginald, she was living under the same roof as him. No matter how many times she swallowed the lump in her throat, it always swelled right back up. “D-Dad, who are these people we’re having dinner with?”

“These people have been nothing but a nuisance to me.”

Her mind flashed back to the night of the gala. Diego had been there with Five. They were there for Reginald, to find out his intentions with the president. To find out what he was doing in Dallas in the first place. Reginald was a secretive man, he didn’t even let Grace or (Y/N) into his office unless he was present as well. Her stomach twisted in knots of anxiety the closer they approached the door to the tiki lounge. When Reginald stopped just before the doors, he turned to his daughter and lowered his voice. “When we enter, you are to sit and remain silent. Do not speak to them, do not interact with them. Sit and shut your mouth unless I tell you otherwise. And your pet remains on the floor or in your lap. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.” She whispered and held Mr Pennycrumb close to her chest, the pup quietly panting and licking her cheek. That seemed to be enough for Reginald, for he nodded and turned forward, slamming the door open and marching into the lounge.

The Hargreeves stood dumbfounded at their father as he headed straight to the table they surrounded, not a word leaving his mouth. None of them had expected to see him ever again, especially not after the funeral they had attended back in 2019. But what they really didn’t expect to see was (Y/N) right behind him, her eyes avoiding them as she absentmindedly pat Mr Pennycrumb under his chin. She especially avoided looking at Five, whose jaw was dropped upon her appearance. The real kick was when Reginald pulled out a chair and motioned for her to sit. Without even a peep, she sat down and allowed him to scoot her closer to the table before taking his own seat. The five blinked once before taking their own seats at the table.

“Not only have you burglarized my lab, set my chimp loose, conned your way into the Mexican consulate, repeatedly stalked and attacked not only me, but my daughter as well, but you have, on numerous occasions, called me-”

Klaus joined the table with a grunt, a martini in his hand. “Hey, Pop. How’s it hangin’?”

“-‘Dad’,” Reginald gave everyone a once over as (Y/N) shifted uncomfortably under the stares of her family. “My reconnaissance tells me you’re not CIA, not KGB, certainly not MI5, so… who are you?”

(Y/N) watched as they all glanced at each other, opening their mouths to answer, but quickly closing them instead. This went on for a few seconds before Five decided to do it, “We’re your children. We’re from the future. In 1989, you adopted us all and trained us to fight against the end of the world. Called us the Umbrella Academy.”

Reginald turned his head from left to right, frowning at each individual. “Why on earth would I adopt six-”

“Eight. One of us isn’t here.” Allison clasped her hands together on the table.

“Dead,” Diego muttered, his head bowed down. “One of us is dead.”

“And the eighth?” Reginald questioned. (Y/N) cleared her throat and began to speak, but stopped when he sent a cold glare her way. “What did we talk about?”

She quickly shook her head. “No, I… I’m the eighth. I’m also your child from the future. You just… got me very early this time-”

“(Y/N), it is not the time for your games-”

“It’s not a game! W-Why do you think I’ve been leaving my dates with Preston to be with them?” At the words ‘dates’ and ‘Preston’, Five leaned forward, eyes narrowed at his love. She glanced at him apologetically and shook her head. Reginald was just about to scold her yet again, but she rolled the sleeve of her shirt up to reveal the umbrella tattoo on her left arm. “Did you forget about this?”

“Yeah, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba. Enough of that now.” Klaus hissed and turned behind him. Everyone froze and stared at him in confusion. Turning forward again, he simply motioned for Reginald to continue. Uneasy, he did just that.

“Regardless,” His gaze turned back to Five. “What would possess me to adopt… seven ill-mannered malcontents?”

“We all have special abilities.” The boy answered.

“Special? In what sense?”

(Y/N) set her pet on the ground and sat up in her seat. “In the superpowered sense.” She raised her brows. Reginald sighed and clenched his jaw.

“My child, if you do not stay out of this as we agreed, I am going to have to send you to the car with your mother-”

“Dad! I am being so serious when I tell you I am one of them!”

“Well, call me old-fashioned, but I’m a stickler for a pesky little thing called evidence,” He turned back to the table. “Show me. All of you.”

Allison scoffed and adjusted the straw in her drink. “Everybody wants to see powers all of a sudden…”

“We’re not circus animals, okay?” Luther spoke. “We’re not gonna bounce balls on our noses and clap our hands like seals for your amusement-”

As if on cue, Diego launched a knife across the table, zipping around Reginald’s head and pinning itself into the pillar behind him. The seven leaned in and watched as the man clicked his pen and began writing in his journal. “What are you writing?” Diego asked. Reginald glanced up at him.

“You are zero for two, young man.” He quipped, Allison sputtering her drink before Diego jumped up from his seat in anger. To prevent anything disastrous from occurring, Five stood and blinked in front of his brother, halting his movement and whispering a ‘stop!’ to him. “Now, that is interesting.” Reginald muttered.

Five sighed and headed back towards his seat. “Alright, uh, quick rundown. Luther: super strength. Klaus can commune with the dead. Allison can rumor anyone to do anything.”

“Except she never uses it.” Diego muttered. Allison removed her lips from her straw and sent a tight-lipped smile towards her brother.

“I heard a rumor… you punched yourself in the face.”

Against his will, Diego rammed his fist into his face, crying out and groaning in pain immediately after. Klaus reached over and tried to comfort him as (Y/N) and Vanya ducked their heads down to hide their smiles. Reginald glanced over at the latter. “And you?”

Luther placed a hand on his sister’s arm with a smile. “Uh, maybe we don’t take Vanya for a test run.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably not a good idea.” Klaus sat back in his chair.

“It’s fine,” Vanya shrugged, reaching for a fork. “I can handle it.” And despite her siblings’ protests, she tapped the fork against her glass. A high-pitched tone rang and shook the table. (Y/N) held her breath as she waited for the worst. A beat later, the bowl of fruit in the center of the table exploded, chunks of fruit splattering against everyone’s clothes and faces. (Y/N) tried to dodge as Mr Pennycrumb jumped into her lap, happily licking the food from her scarred cheeks and chin.

Reginald sighed along with his future children as he handed his only actual daughter a napkin to clean herself. Adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, he side-eyed her. “Alright, my child, show me.”

Not even hesitating, (Y/N) stood and placed her pup in her father’s lap, despite his clear distaste, and straightened her clothes. “Alright. So, I can clone myself. To both summon and dismiss these clones, I have to sing two distinct three-note tunes.” To prove her point, she ‘ooh’ed her first tune, her clone appearing from her shadow, standing with a blank stare. Reginald raised his brows and began writing in his journal. “These clones not only share a conscience with me, but function as muscle and spies.”

“Spies?” Reginald frowned.

“They’re able to record their memories for me to look over in my own mind. Over the past year, I’ve come to learn that I can view these memories in real time. They also function to fulfill any task I command them.” Turning to her clone, she placed her hands on her hips. “Pick up Pennycrumb’s leash,” She commanded, the clone immediately doing as it was told. “I’ve also recently learned that I can give them the ability to talk. But if I wanted to… oh, I don’t know… attend a date with a certain boy without actually being there, I can project my consciousness into its body.”

After taking a seat, (Y/N) immediately slumped in her chair, unconscious. The clone beside her perked up and blinked twice before turning to Reginald. The man leaned forward to inspect it, but jumped back when it spoke. “But if something prevents my clones from fulfilling their task, they will start to self-destruct after twelve hours if said task isn’t completed. This is done by tearing into its own flesh and ripping itself apart.”

At this, everyone shivered.

“Right. It’s terrifying,” The clone returned to its blank and empty shell before (Y/N) raised her head. “And to dismiss, I hum the tune from earlier in its descending order.” She demonstrated said tune, the clone disappearing into her shadow. Mr Pennycrumb excitedly jumped from Reginald to her lap, nuzzling into her arm. “Any questions, Dad?”

Reginald was hastily scribbling into his journal. “Extraordinary. Absolutely extraordinary… And even more so that you’ve managed to keep this power from me for over a year.” He whispered. Turning her head, she caught Five’s proud smile. She winked at him as Diego stood from his seat.

“Look, we know that you’re involved in a plot to assassinate the president.”

“You were recently hospitalized, isn’t that correct? You still appear to be suffering from delusions of grandeur and acute paranoia.”

“Am I?” Diego reached into his back pocket and slid a picture over to his father. “Explain this. That’s you. That’s two days from now on the grassy knoll at the exact spot the president’s gonna get shot.”

Reginald picked up the photo and scanned it before his eyes moved to his daughter, the girl slightly shrinking under his gaze. Receiving his answer to the question he was to ask her, he turned back to Diego and set the photo down. “Well… I suppose you’ve solved it. You’ve single-handedly unearth my nefarious plot,” The smile Diego wore slowly faded. “Is that what you want to hear? You fancy yourself a do-gooder? The last good man who will save us from our descent into corruption and conspiracy? This is a fantastic delusion.” The more Reginald tore into him, the lower Diego sat himself into his chair until his lips were quivering and a tear slid down his cheek. “The sad reality is that you’re a desperate man, tragically unaware of his own insignificance, desperately clinging to his own ineffectual reasoning. More succinctly, a man in over his head.”

“Y-Y-You’re wr… wrong.” Diego stuttered. (Y/N) shakily inhaled and slammed her hand onto the table, alerting the rest of her siblings.

“Don’t you ever talk to him like that!”

“And you!” Reginald whirled to his daughter, the girl flinching a bit. “You have done nothing but deceive me! I half expect you to tell me that the man you chose over Preston sits among us!”

(Y/N)’s gaze instantly found Five’s. His green orbs were pleading, begging her to say it.

Tell him. Tell him you love me. Shout it from the rooftops, promise that you’ll always believe in us. Tell him.

But she couldn’t. Not when her doubts sealed her lips shut and casted her eyes away from him. The siblings stared between the two, heartbroken for their situation. Seeing that she chose to be ashamed, Five nodded and cleared his throat to speak. “Look, forget about the president. We have a catastrophic war coming in five days. We need to figure out how to stop it.”

“War?” Reginald looked away from his daughter and to the boy across from him. “Men will always be at war with each other.”

“No, this isn’t just some war. I’m talking about a doomsday. The end of the world.”

“Well,” Reginald muttered after a beat of silence. “You’re the special ones, aren’t you? Why don’t you band together and do something about it?”

Expecting much, much more than that, all seven of them frowned. This was what Reginald wanted from the start, for them to come together as the Umbrella Academy and prevent the end of the world. But it had been almost two weeks and two apocalypses managed to form due to their actions. That was why they couldn’t.

Grunting, Klaus suddenly raised both his arms in the air and shook uncontrollably, choking out gasps and jerking his body. (Y/N) gasped and slowly reached out to him.

“Is he having a seizure?”

“Overdosing, probably…”

“Should we do something?”

Whipping her head to Luther, (Y/N) widened her eyes. “Yes!” She shouted before turning back to Klaus as he shuddered. “Shit, what if he is overdosing?!”

“Klaus,” Five leaned over and whispered. “Now is not the time. What are you doing?”

Gurgling, Klaus turned his body to Reginald, face contorted in discomfort. “I’m… Ben!” He gasped out before falling to the ground, panting and groaning. (Y/N) rushed to his side and placed a hand on his forehead.

“Klaus? Are you okay? Can you hear me?” She whispered as he reached up and weakly wrapped a hand around her wrist. Reginald looked from Klaus, to (Y/N), then to his journal before he gathered his things.

“Well… thank you for coming,” He stood from his chair and began to walk away, stepping over Klaus’s body. “I’ve seen about enough. Come along, (Y/N), your mother is waiting for us.”

A loud slam sounded, causing everyone in the room to turn to Luther, who stood and ripped his buttoned shirt open. (Y/N) covered her mouth when he revealed his discolored bare chest and abdomen. “Look at what you did to me! Look at it!”

As the siblings groaned and gawked, Reginald simply turned his attention to Five. “You in the culottes. A word, in private? (Y/N), to the car. This instant.”

“Yes, sir.” She whispered before giving Klaus a kiss on the forehead and standing to her feet. Five walked by her side in silence until they had to split ways. Reginald turned to the both of them, and just when (Y/N) was going to turn out of the lounge, Five grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed a kiss to her lips. Gasping, the girl brushed her fingertips over her lips as her face burned. She watched Reginald for a reaction, but he only motioned for her to leave. “Bye, Five.” She grinned behind her hand and hurried away.

“This way, boy.” Reginald brought Five’s attention back to him, leading the two of them to the bar. After they took their seats and he ordered their drinks, Reginald turned to his future son. “You seem to be the sensible one of the bunch.”

“That’s because I’m the oldest,” Five nodded, Reginald tilting his head. “You know, technically, I’m older than you right now.”

Reginald turned forward when the bartender set down a bottle in front of him. “Cognac?”

“Just a smidge.” Five slightly smiled. As he poured their drinks, Reginald started their subject of conversation.

“The other night, you quoted Homer at me. Why?”

Five shifted in his seat and straightened his blaser. “You forced us all to learn it as kids. In the original Greek, no less.” He raised his brows before a glass was passed to him. He and his father did a silent cheer before he took a gulp of it. The entire situation was so jarring to the boy, but as he said before, he didn’t choose this life. He’s just living it. For the next few days, anyway. “This world ends in five days if we don’t get out of the timeline.”

“Worlds end. Paleozoic, Jurassic, and so on.”

“We can do something about this one.”

“Man’s greatest flaw: the illusion of control.”

The boy frowned. “I need your help. Alright? You’re my last sane option. Otherwise, I gotta make a deal that I really don’t wanna make. What do you know about time travel?”

“In theory?”

“In practice.”

Reginald hummed. “I know it’s akin to descending blindly into the depths of freezing waters and reappearing-”

“-as an acorn. Yeah.” Five finished with a sigh.

“What transpired when you tried traveling before?”

The boy blinked and shook his head as he looked away. “I botched it…”

“How?”

“I jumped too far forward, got stuck in the future for forty-five years in an apocalypse. Then I jumped too far backwards… except this time, I brought my entire family with me.”

Reginald tapped his fingers against the bar as he clicked his tongue. “Including (Y/N)?” He questioned, receiving a nod in answer. “Well, maybe your appetite is disproportionate to the size of your abilities. Start small. Seconds, not decades.”

“Seconds?” Five widened his eyes. “Look, no offense, but I need a bit more time for what I’m trying to accomplish here.”

“So much can change in a matter of seconds. One can overthrow an empire,” His eyes moved from Five to the doorway (Y/N) had been standing in seconds ago unbeknownst to Five. “One could fall in love. An acorn doesn’t become an oak overnight.”

Five swallowed, his expression that of defeat. “I was really hoping you had more than that.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help…”

Five shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry, too. I gave you such a hard time as a kid… I didn’t know any better.”

Humming, Reginald glanced down before raising his glass. “No skin off my teeth, old man.” He smiled before drinking. Five sighed and downed the rest of his drink before standing from his seat. “One more thing.”

“What is it?” Five turned back to his father, freezing at the cold look he had been giving him.

“It would be best… if you refrained from courting (Y/N).”

A pang going through his chest, Five rapidly blinked and stepped back. “W-What…?”

“Your relationship is not healthy,” Reginald stood from his stool and began walking past the boy. “And besides…”

Five clenched his fists as his father walked towards the exit of the tiki lounge.

“I have plans for her.”

—————————————

Taglist: @unfortu-nate-ly @sappyassmemes @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @sm0kingcrack @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @starstormssymphony @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @simping-4-fictional-men @hehehehannahthings @harrystylescherrie @rhain3 @himikaphoo @zerocanonlywriteshit @xxeiraxx @camerondiaz48104 @isawachickeninatree @theyaremorethanjustfictional @that-can-of-fizz @luckyzipperscissorsbat