#when they could be using that time to feed their neighbors for free or any number of other low-risk direct community building

[jackawful]

I fucking hate that "firebombing walmart" has taken off as a way to mock radicals on this webbed site. we could be having real conversations about both arson as a tactic and security culture around property damage but y'all ain't ready for that. it's going to become the norm to deny that anyone's doing radical action and also to claim that it's unrealistic and impossible and voting is the Only Thing & that is, in fact, a bad way for site culture to go.

like people firebombing cement mixers in atlanta seems to be working pretty well actually, but you would never know if one of your tumblr mutuals were doing that because you have to shut the fuck up about it for it to work. no one smart is posting the explicit details of their crimes online, asshole.

listen i am not american. i understand that even democrats fucking suck and its a genuinely shitty situation to be in. im so sorry. but hey, hey look at me. why are you guys bullying people for saying "you should still vote blue?" Like im curious about the alternatives youve got. voting red? firebombing walmart? tumblr user catboyssepticbutthole, i know you will not be firebombing walmart.

[inkskinned]

it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)

i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.

i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.

i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.

in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.

i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.

i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.

my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.

i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.

i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.

it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.

almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.

i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.

i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.

write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.

[trans-axolotl]

content note: this post talks about eugenics, incarceration and institutionalization, and violent ableism

tangent from that post because i didn't want to start writing an essay on someone else's post and this is about a conversation i had irl this month, not intended as a reply to that post. but i actually feel very complicated about the idea of whether or not we should be pushing for more "accessibility" in jails and prisons and psych wards and institutions. i put that word in quotes because i don't think there is ever a way that being incarcerated is actually accessible to our bodies and minds; it is a disabling experience on so many levels. i'm not going to list out all the reasons why on this post; i've made so many posts talking explicitly about the harms of institutionalization before and i don't want to do that again right now. Talila Lewis has given several interviews about ableism, incarceration, and disability that are really worth reading and go more in depth into what that violence looks like. Liat Ben Moshe has also given another interview about disability and incarceration that goes over many of the same topics. given that these places are intense sites of violence towards disabled people, it feels difficult for me to claim that they could ever truly be accessible in any meaningful sense of the word.

what's also true right now is that institutions and prisons are incredibly inaccessible for physically disabled people in particular. i've been arrested with a wheelchair, i've been institutionalized with a feeding tube on top of that as well, i've been held on medical floors for psych treatment before, and i know very well exactly how bad it is. i've watched myself and so many other physically disabled people almost die in these places because of sheer neglect. i have physically disabled neighbors who were killed in these places. it is so dangerous for physically disabled people who are locked up in these places, yet at the same time, often psych wards are so inaccessible that physically disabled people just can't even be admitted because wards refuse to take people with mobility aids, medical devices, specific types of medication or care needs, if you have some kinds of terminal illness, and on and on and on.

what's also true is that when these places are so inaccessible that many physically disabled people are excluded and unable to even access them in the first place, it doesn't mean that we then somehow access other types of care instead. it just means that we're also discarded and left to die. this also is a really similar dynamic for a ton of other marginalized groups that get excluded from psych care--many of my comrades who are people of color have also experienced this same type of denial of care. initially i think that can seem like a confusing contradiction--how is it that psych wards are locking up some people up against their will but refusing to take in other people? but when you start thinking about the underlying logic at the core of these systems, it makes sense.

psych wards operate under this idea that madness must be cured by any means possible, up to and including eradication. institutions are a way of disappearing madness from the world--hiding us away so that we don't disturb a sane society, and not letting us free again until we either die in there or are able to appear like we've sufficiently eradicated madness from our mind. preventing physically disabled people from accessing inpatient treatment is operating under the same assumptions--except that this particularly violent convergence of ableism is happy to just let us die, both because it eradicates madness from the world and because they view our lives as unworthy of living in the first place. eugenics is still alive and well in the united states and it's still fucking killing us; both inside institutions and outside of them.

i would never tell someone that they're privileged for getting institutionalized--i think that would be a cruel thing to say to someone who has just survived a lot of violent ableism. and at the same time, our current systems of mental health care are set up in a way where not being able to access inpatient care can be a deadly logistical nightmare. there are some partial hospitalization programs that have such a long waiting list that you can only really get in if you just got an urgent referral because you're getting discharged from inpatient care--how the fuck are physically disabled people supposed to access those programs? if you need meal support for your eating disorder 6 times a day and the only places that offer that are residential treatment in a house with stairs, what the fuck are you supposed to do? if noncarceral outpatient forms of treatment like therapy, support groups, PHP programs, peer support funding, etc etc etc are often prioritizing people who have recently been discharged from inpatient care, how are you supposed to access any type of mental health care at all? (to be clear i know that not all forms of outpatient care operate in this way, but a lot of state run/low cost programs that accept Medicaid/Medicare operate in that way, and i've seen it cause enough barriers that i know this is a very real problem.)

so when i think about what it would take to actually ensure that physically disabled people can access mental healthcare, there's a lot that comes up for me. on one hand, so much of my work is about tearing down institutions and ensuring that no one is forced into these places to face that type of violence. on the other hand, so many physically disabled people need care right now, and we have to figure out some way of making that happen given the current systems we have in place. i will never be okay with just discarding physically disabled people as collateral damage, and any world that we're building needs to be one that embraces disability from the beginning.

i keep thinking about the concept of non-reformist reforms that gets talked about a lot in the prison abolition movement. the idea behind non-reformist reforms is that usually, reforms work to reinforce the status quo. they're usually talked about in liberal language of "improvement" and "human rights", but when it comes down to it, they're still giving more power to harmful institutions and reinforcing state power. an example of a reformist reform is building a new jail that is bigger and has "nicer" services. or when the cops in my city tried to get funding for more wheelchair accessible cop vans. these are reformist reforms because when it comes down to it, it's still giving more money and legitimacy to the prison system and increasing the capacity to keep people locked up--even when people talk about it using language about welfare for prisoners, that's not actually what's happening. having more wheelchair accessible cop vans would be dangerous for the disabled people in my city--it's helped us out a LOT that it's so difficult for the cops to arrest multiple wheelchair users at once.

non-reformist reforms are the opposite of that--they're reforms that work to dismantle systems, redistribute power, and set the stage for more even more dramatic transformations. They're sort of an answer to the question of "what do we do right now if we can't go out and burn down all the prisons overnight?" Examples of a nonreformist reform are defunding prisons, getting rid of paid administrative leave for cops, shutting down old prisons and not building new ones, etc. they're steps we can take right now that don't fully abolish prisons, but still work to dismantle them, rather than making it easier for the system to keep going.

so, when we apply this to the psych system, what are some nonreformist reforms that could help make sure that all disabled people are having their needs met right now? Some ideas I'm having include fixing the problem of PHP/outpatient care requiring referrals from inpatient, increasing the amount of Medicaid/Medicare funding for outpatient mental health care, building physically accessible peer respites that allow caregivers to stay with you if needed, increasing SSI/SSDI to an actually liveable rate, creating more disability specific mental health resources, support groups, care webs, and a million other things we'd probably need to actually get our needs met. non-reformist reforms for people in psych wards right now might look like ensuring everyone has 24/7 access to phones and internet, ensuring that disabled people have access to mobility aids in these spaces, making sure that there's accessible nutrition for people with dietary restrictions and/or feeding tubes, and more.

when i see people saying that we need to ensure that psych wards or prisons are made accessible it makes me feel nervous. i worry that the changes required to do that wouldn't actually provide care to disabled people, i worry it would just make it easier for increasing numbers of disabled people to get locked up and harmed all while people claimed it was a success story of "inclusion." i worry that it would just continue to cement carceral treatment as the only option for existing as a disabled person, and that it would make it harder for us to live in our communities, with the services and adaptations we need. when i think about abolition, i'm always thinking about what can we do right now, what do disabled people who are incarcerated and institutionalized need right now, what can we do right now to ensure that everyone is surviving and getting their needs met. i'm not willing to ignore or discard my incarcerated disabled comrades in the moment because of my dreams for an abolitionist future, i'm always going to support our organizing in these places as we try to survive them.

overall i guess what i'm saying is that i think making inpatient psych care accessible would require dismantling and fundamentally destroying the whole system. I can't imagine a way of doing that within the current system that wouldn't just continue to harm disabled people. and that as a psych abolitionist i think that means we have a responsibility to each other right now to fight for that, to understand that physically disabled people not being able to access mental health care is an incredibly urgent need. I refuse to treat my MadDisabled comrades as disposable: our lives are valuable and worth fighting for.

i'm also going to link to the HEARD organization on this post. They're one of the few abolitionist organizations that does direct advocacy and support for deaf and disabled people in prisons. if you or one of your disabled community members ever gets incarcerated in jail/prison, they have a lot of resources. donate to support their work if you can.

[phoenixyfriend]

Why I think it's important to understand the geopolitical anxieties of Israelis

Oftentimes, it feels like even recognizing that those anxieties exist is viewed as siding with Israel in the current conflict.

And I think that it's... weird, to do that. Dismissing the anxieties wholesale makes it harder to resolve the situation. Addressing them directly is possibly the only way to resolve the situation, because America.

Let me explain.

This will have three parts:

Why the propaganda works

How it affects current policy

How we can pressure the (mostly US) government about Israel using what we know about propaganda

Why the propaganda works

A lot of it is just propaganda, yes, but a lot of it is based in history, and a lot is also sort of self-fulfilling at this point. They have had reason to believe that some of their neighbors want all Jews dead or gone for a long time (see: Syria, Lebanon, Yemen), so it's not that it comes from nowhere. When over half the population is either Mizrahi Jews who fled from nearby countries that were happy to have a place to kick their Jewish populations out to, or their descendants, it's not hard to see that 'if someone else is in charge, we'll have to flee again.'

You could tell the French in Algeria to go back to France, but are you going to tell Mizrahi Jews to go back to the ME countries that they left? Sure, some left willingly, but that kind of wholesale eradication doesn't happen unless there's some degree of systemic discrimination or threat of violence. You cannot send Yemeni Jews back to Yemen.

The threat is real. It is not as large as the propaganda claims. It does not in any way justify nearly 30,000 deaths, half of them children. But the threat is not just imagined.

The fact of the matter is this: the propaganda is fueled by actual violence and legitimate fears.

And unless those fears are recognized and accounted for, Israel cannot be talked down.

Being told that a threat does not exist when recent history clearly shows otherwise is not going to convince anyone. I cannot emphasize this enough: even if the far-right government is replaced tomorrow, those fears will persist.

Israel's current government is violently and militarily opposed to restructuring itself in a way that allows for either a secular democratic single state, or a truly free and independent Palestine in a two-state solution. Due to mandatory army service and large scale propaganda, many have been taught since early childhood that the only way for Jews to be safe is for Israel to exist and to be so incredibly overpowered for their size that other nations won't invade them. The fact that both distant history and more recent, across the world, is filled with antisemitic discrimination, feeds this paranoia. A lot of people are out to get them, and have been since well before Israel was established. The destruction of Judea, the Edict of Expulsion, the expulsion of Jews from Spain, pogroms, the Holocaust, the near-total eradication in Yemen, Jordan, and Syria, and so on... this shit keeps happening. Some of it long ago, some if it very recent.

But it does keep happening, and that is why the propaganda works. That is why the fearmongering has teeth. It has happened before, over and over and over again, and it is being loudly threatened again. The propaganda works in Israel, and it also works in Jewish communities, and non-Jewish people who just happen to hear it, based elsewhere in the world. Like America. (This is important.)

Before moving forward, I need to make this clear: There are Jewish Israeli activists, both within Israel and without, that are vocally against Israel's actions against Palestine. Some are organized, and some are individuals. Some stories even go viral: Israeli-born Natalie Portman's been criticizing Netanyahu for years and politicians have called for her citizenship to be stripped for it. Tumblr loves the story of the Swiftie Twitter that went to jail for refusing to join the IDF, and that's very common; plenty of young people get months-long prison sentences, sometimes multiple times. Right-wing mobs go after Jewish Israelis who speak in support of Palestine in any way, and these things get violent.

(In that same article, it also talks about how Israeli Palestinians are suffering much, much worse under the government's crackdown on free speech.)

How it affects current policy

The thing is, there are only really four ways for this to resolve:

Israel wins. They succeed in pushing Palestinians out of Gaza by killing anyone who doesn't comply, and take it over for themselves. (This is bad.)

Israel is cut off from any and all support from abroad, both 'here, you can help yourself with these guns' and 'here, we will fight your enemies for you,' and is very suddenly at risk of invasion, mass murder, and removal from the Palestinian Mandate by those groups they fearmonger about, the ones that include slogans like "death to Israel, a curse upon the Jews." (This is also bad.)

Israel is convinced to stop attacking Gaza, possibly through the threat of no more support, and settles in to figure out a solution with Palestine, whether two-state or secular single state or whatever, and normalizes relations with neighbors enough that they can start cutting back on their military. (This is the best option.)

A foreign power or coalition of powers invades and forces Israel to stop, and oversees a transition from military state to peaceful state while protecting from outside attack, like was done to Japan and Germany following WWII. (This one is... interventionism is bad, but also almost 30k people have died with no end in sight, so it's starting to look like a real possibility.)

We can all agree, I hope, that the first option is not an option. That is Bad.

I also hope we can agree that the second option is not an option. A number of Israelis may be settlers in the traditional sense of the word, but a lot of them are refugees from neighboring countries, survivors of the Holocaust, or descendants of such. "Just go back where you came from" doesn't work when many of them came from places that were also saying 'go back where you came from' because Israel now existed to expel them to. It's also been around for 75 years now, and some three-quarters of the population were born in Israel. Expelling them all, even the ones that were there before the early statehood aliyah? It's... I don't know. I understand in theory why some activists push for it, but I do think it is fundamentally different from any comparative colonization or settlement.

(Note: I do not include Israeli colonies in the Palestinian West Bank. Those do need to be returned to their owners. Give people their houses and land back.)

The third option is the one that most people, I think, would like to see happen. However, the Israeli government is clinging to the propaganda that they will be eradicated as a Jewish people if they do not forcibly take power where they can, and they are spreading it out among Israelis. Dissent by Israeli Jews may not be criminalized, but the society around them sure isn't receptive to it. The recent invasion of Gaza has also inflamed tensions across the region, which means that even countries which were slowly normalizing relations, or at least.

Netanyahu has not been convinced, and by all appearances cannot be convinced. The only thing that may force his hand is the threat of no more military aid, so he suddenly has to start conserving what missiles he does have in order to fend off a possible attack instead of continuing to hammer on Gaza.

Sounds great, right? This is why we are all (I hope) calling our senators or representatives or whatever your country has to tell them to stop supporting Israel monetarily or with military aid. This is why I keep giving suggested topics for Americans to call their senators about, even if I'm just one voice, and there are much louder ones saying the same thing, but better.

And yet, the Senate passed the aid bill. They snuck it into a Veteran Affairs thing as a last-minute amendment, but they passed it, and any failure in the House will have little to do with sympathy for Palestine and a lot to do with domestic border policy.

So... Americans are also pretty convinced of the whole 'if we stop supporting Israel, they will be invaded and killed off by the Iran-backed militias' thing. Many do feel sympathy for Palestinians, hence the 'Israel, you need to knock that shit off' comments, but they also are genuinely of a belief that the Israeli propaganda of 'we will be overrun by antisemitic Muslim extremist militias and exterminated like in the Holocaust' is true.

Like. Either they fear for Israelis due to the antagonistic forces in the region, or they belong to Christofascist ideologies about how supporting Israel is the way to avoid suffering in Armageddon.

You can't get to the latter on ethics or morality or whatever. You can only rely on ulterior motives (the border things) or telling them 'your reelection is in jeopardy, change your mind or you're going to be voted out.'

The former, though... you can. They believe the things that Israel claims and has been claiming since 1948, with regards to threats.

And if you acknowledge why the propaganda works, you can address it.

How we can pressure the government about Israel using what we know about propaganda

If you say that there is no threat to Israel from Yemen, Lebanon, Syria, Iran, or so on, you will be dismissed as an idealist who hasn't done any research. If you say that Israelis should be left to their own devices, you will be viewed as cruel, and if you say they should be removed and the land given back to Palestinians, you will be laughed away (silently, but it'll happen). You cannot convince the American government with these tactics.

What can you say?

Israel is making things worse for itself in regards to these exact threats. Pushing on Gaza is making neutral and nearly-normalized countries like Egypt and Saudi Arabia less inclined to get in the way of the 'death to Israel' militias. The campaign is creating a whole new generation of extremists who will join the militias out of a desire to prevent more of these deaths by Israeli hands, and that will only increase the threat to Israel.

Destroying Hamas isn't going to do shit if Hezbollah, Iraq, Iran, the Houthis, and so on, invade. Especially if twenty years down the line, all those orphans that Israel just created these past few months start a new Hamas for revenge because, hi, look how many orphans you just created.

Netanyahu is working against the interests of the Israeli people. He is trying to remain in power, and the Gaza war is a distraction from the charges being levied against him.

Netanyahu has a vested interest in seeing that Donald Trump is elected, as they are much closer than the at best strained relationship with Biden. This is very complicated but if your senator or rep is a Democrat, it is relevant.

Israel's continued offensive is leading to the risk of millions of Palestinian refugees entering Egypt and destabilizing them, which, in an already unstable country in an already wobbling region, is going to risk another war across the Middle East. The US still has not pulled out all troops from the last one.

The US cannot afford, monetarily or in terms of foreign relations, to aid in causing a new regional war.

If Israel slows, halts, and withdraws peacefully from Gaza, tensions will settle enough to avoid possible invasion by those hostile forces they're so worried about. The UN can, if necessary, deploy forces to maintain relative stability until peace treaties are worked out. We'd like to avoid option 4 if possible.

The only way I can see to convince the US government to stop supplying weapons to Israel is to push on the fact that continuing to do so will, due to Netanyahu and his party's actions, put Israel in more danger rather than less.

There are other things to say to your senators, and I'll be making a post about that soon (not today, but probably this weekend; stuff like Michigan, UNRWA, international reputation), but in regards to just the geopolitics surrounding the propaganda, this is it. This is why we have to understand it. Because the way we get the United States government to stop giving aid to Israel to defend itself is by telling them 'this is putting them in more danger due to their head of state's aggression.'

This was very long, but I've seen a lot of misinformation and a lot of generalization, and a lot of it is... not great. Well-meant, sometimes, but not great. I felt it necessary to be very clear and very specific. I'm anticipating a lot of comments to the effect of "you forgot about this" and "but that doesn't excuse their actions" and "well, not all activists believe--" and I know.

I know.

But I've had people say "Nobody is advocating for the removal of all Jewish Israelis" to my ask box hours after I was talking about Yemen, a country that enacted a removal of all Jews and largely under the control of a group that has a slogan about doing just that to the Jewish Israelis.

So let me be very clear that I have seen a lot on tumblr recently, a lot of it extremist, and I'm not pulling any of this out of my ass or making up a guy to be mad at. I may not know everything on this topic--I may not even know much at all, given that it covers centuries of conflict due to the Ottomans--but I've been listening to hours upon hours of news from a variety of sources (Al Jazeera, BBC, NPR, and more) every day just to make sure I understand.

Please trust that, even if I get some things wrong, even if I don't cite every detail or generalize just a bit here and there, that I mean well. Please trust that I am making this in good faith and am trusting you to respond to it in kind.

Call your reps. Write them an email. Donate to a Palestinian charity.

It's a slog, but we can make a difference.

[macolethings]

CLEXTOBER24!

The Scare - Six year old Lexa dresses up as a werewolf for Halloween to scare another Trikru kid that wronged her.

(Note, this story has spoilers if you haven't read through Chapter 5 of Sonraun Rein Kiken (A Life Worth Living) - Link here)

This idea came from a comment on my story. If there are other things you'd like to read about from any of the characters' pasts, or see in the future, feel free to share! Who knows, it may get added into the story, or be the reason for another snippet/one-shot.

Read below or on AO3 - here. Enjoy!

----------

The evening was cool and crisp when Lexa snuck out of the house to head into the forest. It wasn’t uncommon for her parents to let her explore the woods around their house during the day, even alone; after nightfall might be a different story, hence her need to sneak out.

Her skinny, six-year-old limbs did little to keep her body warm against the fall weather that had arrived a couple weeks ago. Not that she was worried about the cold. Soon she would be bundled up in a mix of tattered clothes that would surely keep her toasty. She also carried a water skin filled with a warm spiced tea, just in case.

Lexa had spent hours in the woods. Her nontu (father), Abe, taught her how to choose the best tree trunks for carving and building materials. Her nomon (mother), Ellyn, often requested her help in foraging for the best mushroom, berries, and roots, as well as hunting the small game that lived nearby. But her favorite times were playing in them with her older brother, Lincoln. Needless to say, she knew these woods like the back of her hand.

Lincoln, having recently reached his tenth summer, was given permission to venture out further into the world. With this new freedom, he and his friends had chosen tonight to explore an old, supposedly haunted, field from a war fought hundreds of years ago; for tonight was what the old world had called Halloween.

Halloween was viewed by Lexa’s people in a few different ways. Some feared the night, believing that spirits of dead ones could come back to the Earth to haunt those still living. Others thought it nonsense that such things could happen and believed it was purely an excuse for children to dress up and go to neighbors’ houses asking for sweets. The remaining ones gave it little to no thought.

Lexa fell somewhere in between thinking the whole thing nonsense, especially about old spirits, but also believing it would have been fun to dress up as something for a night. So, she decided that this Halloween, she would do just that.

For days she had debated on what she wanted to become. A princess didn’t fit her personality, and because she was a nightblood she had no desire to be a knight. She thought about being an animal, but none seemed to bring that idea of “fun” to mind.

Then, one night, snuggled into her nomon’s side on the couch, they read a story about a boy who became a werewolf and used his ability to scare the bullies of his school. An idea popped into her head so fast she nearly knocked the book out of her nomon’s hands and into the nearby candle flame.

Lexa would dress up as a werewolf and use the costume to scare her brother in retaliation for not allowing her to go with him and his friends on their day trip they were planning; the trip to the haunted fields she had begged him to let her go on with them. He had laughed and refused, saying she was too young and would scare too easily. Well, she would see who was easily frightened.

Keeping to the shadows in order to not get caught, Lexa finally reached the shed near their garden. Tucked behind some bags of chicken feed, she pulled one out that she had emptied days ago and filled with her costume.

Every day for the past week, after her chores were done, she would take to her favorite place in the woods to work on her costume. She started with the wolf mask, believing it the most important part of the whole thing. Her nontu had taught her how to carve wood, knowing the importance of such a skill if she were to ever get lost or abandoned in the woods, especially if she were to become Heda one day.

Lexa was proud of what she had whittled. The snout was hollowed out to fit her own nose, allowing her to breathe easily, and had two small holes on the side so she could secure it to her face. She even added a couple teeth to it, though the left side only had one instead of the two she’d planned after the knife slipped and cut into her hand. She flinched and dropped the snout on a rock, breaking one of the teeth off.

There was one good thing to come from her accident, though. Her black blood was the perfect way to paint the tip of the nose black. Dipping her finger into the trail of blood that dripped down her arm, she brushed the liquid where the nose was.

To cover her head, and appear more animal-like, she used an old, hooded shirt and glued a brown, somewhat bushy, moss onto it. From far away, and in the dark, it would easily pass as fur.

The last part of her costume was pieces of tattered, black, and brown clothes they normally used in the chicken coop to help keep the animals warm. Lexa had taken a few of the pieces that had only been there a day or two, meaning the horrendous stench had yet to really seep into the material. The rags made her look larger than her usual scrawny frame.

While in the shed, Lexa put everything on but the mask, including some “hairy” gloves covered with the same brown moss she used on the hood, and walked into the woods close to their home. Lincoln and his friends left earlier in the day but were to be back before midnight. Based on where the other children lived, and the direction they traveled, Lincoln would be the last one to get home.

Effortlessly climbing up into the tree she had scouted yesterday, she nestled down for the wait. Based on the placement of the moon, she wouldn’t have to wait long.

As she sat, she thought about her future. Soon, Lexa would be taken to Polis to begin her training as a novitiate. There was even a chance she would become Heda.

Her parents had worked hard to make sure Lexa was being trained daily, mostly using unconventional methods. She had learned the basics of how to survive alone in the forest during the two- and three-day tracks through the woods with her nontu. Her nomon had begun teaching Lexa to read and write earlier than was normal, knowing the ability to obtain and share knowledge would greatly benefit her. And daily sparring sessions with Lincoln, led by one of her parents of course, had taught Lexa how to protect herself.

Lost in her thoughts, it took the snap of a twig to bring her back to the present. Narrowing her eyes, she noticed the familiar figure of Lincoln, traipsing down the path. With practiced ease Lexa donned her wolf snout and brought the hood up over her head.

Lincoln's feet shuffled along the dirt trail, kicking small rocks as he mozied towards their home. Ever so quiet, Lexa moved into a squatting position and readied herself to jump out of the tree. Her goal was to land in front of him, so she could see the horror on his face, but also out of reach of any flying limbs he would use to protect himself.

 “Eight feet,” she thought to herself.

 “Seven. Steady.” She breathed.

 “Wait for it.”

She leapt out of the tree with unnatural grace considering all the clothes she had on, and roared as loud as her little lungs could.

Lincoln would forever deny the high-pitched screeching sound that passed by his lips that night, as he covered the sides of his head with his hands and sunk in on himself, doing as his father had taught them and protecting his vital organs.

Lexa wanted to keep it going, but she immediately burst out laughing at her older brother. Hunched over, trying to breathe through the giggling, she almost missed the realization spreading on Lincoln’s face as he took in his surroundings. He looked down towards his crotch, now darkened slightly from when he pissed his pants at the fear of being attacked by a bear. 

“You!” he growled, his hands clenched into fists.

“Now who scares too easily,” Lexa taunted. Throwing Lincoln’s words back into his face.

Lincoln’s eyes narrowed. “How could you!” he yelled, as he straightened himself upright; adrenaline coursing through his body. “You’re so going to pay for this.”

Lexa hadn’t planned for this part of the evening. She had planned to scare him, maybe have him run away. But the screech had her bowled over laughing, easily giving her away.

As he started towards her, she turned around and took over running back towards their house. Lexa was quick for her age, but Lincoln was taller and stronger. If she wasn’t bogged down with excessive clothing, she would have taken to the trees. The Trikru were known for their comfort and ease within the trees, and Lexa was no exception. In fact, her small stature allowed her to climb higher than others, and to use branches others couldn’t to jump from tree to tree. 

But she couldn’t waste time stripping everything off, so continued to run; the clothes slowed her down significantly. Her lungs gasped for air, and her legs were on fire as she tried to get away.

He caught up to her right outside the front of their cottage. The only light in the house was the soft glow coming from the living room where the fire would be lit. This meant that her parents were most likely still awake. The oil lamp that hung from the front door also still hung from its hook. Lexa hoped it meant that her parents had not realized that she wasn’t in bed, where she definitely should have been at this hour, and took off to look for her.

Panic started to set in as her only two options came to mind. If she ran into the house, she would reveal to her parents she wasn’t in bed. If she stayed outside, she was at her brother’s mercy. Lexa didn’t know which would be worse; angry parents or angry brother.

Then a thought occurred to her. Maybe she could negotiate with her brother. Take on his chores for a week. Or trade one of her books for drawing equipment he wanted. Anything that would keep her out of trouble.

She turned around to reason with him, when he slammed himself into her, tackling her to the ground.

Lexa’s training kicked in. She managed to turn in his arms just enough to land on her shoulder instead of her back. If the wind was knocked out of her, she would have no chance at winning the fight. 

Still caught underneath Lincoln, she twisted her waist and spine by shifting her hips. The movement lifted him just enough to give her room to rotate on the leg closest to the ground, throw her other leg up and over, and bring herself on top of his chest. It was a move she had recently perfected, her nontu continuously reminding her how important it was since she was small and could easily be strong armed onto the ground.

If they were sparring, Lexa would know exactly what to do to get Lincoln to yield. The fury she saw in his eyes though, revealed how angry he was, and angry people were unpredictable. She wasn’t even sure he would yield after the fright she had given him. 

Her thoughts drifted too long, and strong arms forced her backwards with a push. Next thing she knew, fists started to wildly rain down on her. The extra clothing she wore slightly softened the blows.  Pulling in her arms to protect her midsection, Lexa  started to kick, catching him on a tender spot of his thigh. The grunted “oomph” informing her she landed her mark. 

That seemed to anger him more. Try as she might, she couldn’t get an upper hand on him, and for the first time ever fighting Lincoln, she was afraid he might truly hurt her.

“Lincoln, stop.” Lexa called out. 

His anger slowed him from stopping as quickly as he should. Instead he worked to put her in a final hold.

“I yield!” she yelled, still trying to buck him off. 

He pulled back instantly, his arms still holding hers down on the ground by her wrists. She could see the hurt and embarrassment now in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, Linc. I only meant it as a tease.”

Lincoln didn’t have a chance to respond. They heard the front door fly open, followed by a voice they both feared. 

“Spirits! Both of you!!” Their  nomon   stalked towards the two still laying on the ground, frozen. “Lincoln kom Trikru, off! Alexandria kom Trikru… I have no words!”

Lincoln rolled off Lexa and lowered his hand to help her up. 

“I have no idea what is going on, but I can tell you right now that you both are going to pay dearly unless there is a very compelling reason why you are out of bed so late at night," she pointed at Lexa, "and why you," she turned to Lincoln, "have taken it upon yourself to fight her."

Both ducked their heads. 

"Well?" Ellyn prodded, her eyebrows rising so high they almost disappeared into her hairline. 

Lexa and Lincoln looked at each other, a silent conversation between the two. Even when mad at one another, they always had each other's backs when a third party was involved, especially if that third person was their  nomon. A couple quick nods affirmed that nothing would be revealed by their lips. Turning back to their nomon  , they both squared their shoulders, ready for the punishment. 

Ellyn looked back and forth between the two, eyes narrowing. 

"I see," she said pointedly, knowing she would hear no reasoning from either of them. "Thick as thieves." She shook her head, but internally smiled at the bond her children shared. 

"I'm not sure what happened," she continued, "but you will both be punished for what I have witnessed. Since you are both so loyal, your punishment will be shared. You will both have chicken coop duties for the next two weeks." They groaned. 

"And," their nontu chimed in from the doorway, "you will take over my offer to chop wood for Glidea and old man Diksen for the winter." 

They both nodded their heads. 

"Nami (Understood)?" their mother asked firmly. 

"Sha, nomon.” they replied. 

"Now. Inside. Both of you." she demanded. 

The two walked into the warmth of the house, but Lexa didn't make it very far before her nomon stopped her. 

"Alexandria, you smell like chicken shit. Outside, and clean up before you come back into my house."

She hung her head as she sulked back outside, knowing the water would be freezing. But smiled slightly as she realized it had all been worth it. 

[nateconnolly]

When I was fourteen, I asked Grandma to sue for custody over me and my brother. She would probably have won, too. Our neighbors had called the sheriffs more than once when they heard the screaming. I denied everything, but it all got written down anyways. The court could subpoena those records, I would honestly testify in court, and that would be the end of it. 

We were stargazing in her back yard. She drank whiskey. She wouldn’t let me have any, even though I drank with Dad all the time, so I had a Pepsi. I carried two lawn chairs out into the darkness. Only it wasn’t really darkness. On the eve of a full moon, I could see the smallest lines of the bar code on my soda can. That night was a new moon without clouds. Nothing to obscure the stars. 

For years, I had wanted to ask Grandma to adopt us, but I never found the courage. The idea just burned inside my head. I dreamed of leaving home and living with her; instead, the words had always died in my throat. Impossible to speak, impossible to keep inside. 

That night, Toby was sleeping like a rock inside, my soda was sweet, the stars were shining, and I thought, I want to be here every night. So I decided to finally tell Grandma what I wanted.

“I want to stay with you.”

“You can stay the night. We’ll just go in and call your father to let him know where you are.” 

“No. I want to stay here permanently.”

Grandma didn’t say a word.

“I want you to sue for custody,” I said. 

“Jesus, Jasper…” she said. “What do you think that would do to your father?”

“He’d have two less mouths to feed.”

“And two more holes in his heart.” 

“He doesn’t love me.”

“Of course he loves you.”

I swallowed. I had already admitted my deepest fantasy—that Grandma would take me and my brother away—and suddenly, I found that I couldn’t keep secrets anymore. Once I allowed the dam to crack, the flood was inevitable. I said something I had never admitted to anyone before. 

“He hits me.” I waited for Grandma to react. “He hits me hard. Way too hard.” 

I stared into my grandmother’s agonized eyes, hoping she would solve all my problems, but she just stared back at me in silence.

“Yesterday, he put out a cigarette on my chest.” I pulled up my t-shirt and showed her the burn on my ribs. “Just because I forgot to take out the trash.”

She still didn’t say anything. I could see her heart slowly breaking apart. 

But I also saw that she wasn’t going to intervene. 

I had always assumed my grandmother actually would try to take me and Toby once she knew how Dad treats us. I thought I only had to work up the courage to  ask. If she knew, she would stop it. She would save me. But she had always known, hadn’t she?

Grandma ruffled my hair. 

“When I was a young woman, not much older than you, I would drive to Utah every winter and backpack in the Uintas,” she said. “Completely alone. Sometimes, I would be out there for more than two weeks. The hardest part came halfway through the trip. There was this twelve-mile-long stretch of land without ponds or rivers, which meant that I couldn’t stop and sleep. If I slept, I would wake up without water, and I would die. Once I set out through the dry land, I had to keep moving. No matter what. 

“You know how I got through it? I would pick a tree close in front of me, and I would let myself think of nothing else. That tree was the center of every thought in my head. I told myself, ‘You only have to make it to that tree. Then you can stop.’ And it helped, even though it wasn’t true. If I told myself to walk twelve miles, I would drop dead. But I told myself that I only had to walk a few feet to the next tree — and I told myself that at least a thousand times. That mantra got me through it. Because walking to the tree feels like nothing, and by the time you’ve reached it, you feel strong enough to reach the next.” 

She put her hand on my shoulder. “Just one more tree, kiddo.”

Full story free here

[captainmalewriter]

Hey I would like to claim the white with orange ring capsule if it is still available? Like to see what is inside.

Congratulations, you found my missing white with an orange ring capsule! Here's what happened when you found it...

You opened the door to your brother’s estate and stepped inside. Your brother and his wife were away on vacation for the week. Your brother had asked you to house-sit while they were away. Thankfully, you didn’t have to actually stay in the house all week long. All you had to do was swing by his place once a day to feed the cats, clean their litter boxes, and water the plants. Once that was done, you were free to continue going about your usual routine.

You finished your housekeeping duties for the last time. The week had gone by in a flash. Your brother was supposed to come back tomorrow. Although you were glad you didn’t have to house sit anymore, you couldn’t help but feel wistful. You weren’t sure exactly why you felt that way, but you did. 

You decided to take a look around your brother’s house before you left for the day. It had been a long time since you last visited him, and as a result, you couldn’t help but notice all the changes he made around the house. New wall decorations, new paint job in the bathroom, and a bunch of minor changes here and there. But while most of the changes were pretty ordinary, there was one particular change that caught your attention the most. 

You found it while looking around the garage. You didn’t mean to snoop around, but while poking around, you found a stainless steel box full of strange things. You figured a tiny peek inside wouldn’t hurt and took a look inside. You found a bunch of miscellaneous items that didn’t seem to have any correlation to one other. Most of them you couldn’t name! But there was one thing you could name: a toy capsule. It was white with an orange ring on it. You couldn’t help but take it out of the chest. You weren’t sure why your brother or your brother’s wife would keep a toy inside a box full of strange, witchcraft looking things. It was truly a mystery.

The more you thought about it, the more curious you grew about what was inside the capsule. Then, curiosity piqued, you decided to open it and see what was inside. You twisted the orange ring and opened the capsule. Inside there was a tiny metal rod! It was probably no larger than your pinkie finger. However, when you took it out, it immediately expanded until it was a foot long in length. On top of that, there was now an orange light shining at the tip of the rod! 

You were amazed at what you found. As you moved the rod around, the orange light shimmered and sparkled in the air. It was truly a magical sight that reminded you of magic wands. During that moment of excitement, you swirled the wand around pretending it was a real wand. You traced a circle in the air with the orange light with a swoosh. And as soon as you completed the circle, it happened…

You felt several cold shivers run up and down your body. You began to shake violently. Your body shook and shook until suddenly you felt as light as a feather. You felt yourself falling forward, and your skin also turned a translucent orange that matched the wand. It was an otherworldly feeling unlike any other, but before you could even get used to it, you were suddenly launched towards the east. You flew until you landed at your destination: your brother’s neighbor’s body.

“Hrm…… Ohh fuck…!” 

The man stood there, tending to his horse as he felt a sudden presence inside of his body. The foreign presence made his body sensitive, causing him to moan obscenely loud. That presence was you of course, taking over his body for yourself. You could feel as your life essence adjusted to its new vessel. The man was a rancher with a beefy body. You could feel how hairy your new body wasYour thick paws for hands ran through the hair on your body as you finished adjusting. You had officially become the rancher. 

You stood there slightly disoriented inside your new body. You felt the vertigo fading away, but then the body shivers came back again. Except this time, it wasn’t your life essence getting detached from your body. Rather, it was the rancher’s soul getting detached from your new body. You could see the soul standing right in front of you for a brief second before it was launched west— the same direction you came from.

“What the hell was that thing…” you said out loud with your new cowboy accent. You stood there wondering while you scratched your scruffy, thick beard. 

You then noticed there was an iron rod in your hand. There was an orange light glowing at the tip too. You closely examined the rod and found some small engravings on it. It said:

Wave this wand once, and you will swap with the closest same sex person…

Your souls will exchange vessels, but your mind will not transfer…

You will swap bodies, and therefore identities, so choose your vessel wisely…

You read it over and over again, but still had no idea what the fuck it was talking about. It sounded like some type of voodoo shit, something you wanted no part of. You worked hard to make a simple life with your husband, kids, and farm animals, and there was no way in hell you were about to let some stick take that away from you! You snapped the rod in half and tossed it in the same bin you shovel the horse shit into, sealing your fate forever. 

“Hey, I just put the kids to bed. What’s my wonderful hubby up to?” 

You turned your head and smiled as your husband walked up to you. He was a rancher with a bear bod just like you. He recently bought a new pair of blue jeans and a flannel shirt. They hugged his body just right, with the jeans in particular showing off just how hung your husband was with his large bulge. And the sight of it drove you crazy!

“Nothing babe, just throwin’ some trash I found in Missy’s stable,” you explained. 

Your husband smirked as he walked up right next to you. You grinned, then leaned in for a kiss. Your beards rubbed against each other as your lips interlocked with big, wet kisses. Your bodies grinded against each other as you both made out, moans and groans filled the air as you made out. His hand slithered down your back, then cupped your ass cheek with a loud smack. You meant to only give your husband a quick kiss, but it was clear y’all were about to do much more than that. Not that you minded it of course; after all, you were living the simple, family life out on a ranch with the man of your dreams, just like you always wanted.

Hope you enjoy the new body prize you won from finding my lost capsule!

[vibratingskull]

Hello hello! happy new year 🎊🎊🎊!!! I was just wondering if you could do a part two to the stranded fic you wrote for Thrawn (totally optional ofc ignore this if you want‼️‼️‼️) I think it would be interesting to see the aftermath of their relationship like are they rescued or not? If they're not do they just say fuck it let's start a family? If so do they eventually get discovered by the rebels/empire (sort of like the plot for Ahsoka ig???) And they're like yo look at me and my family haha fuck y'all I'm not going back to civil society I love my partner and our children! (If you can't tell I have been thinking about this situation for ages it's making me go crazy with the possibilities) Your fics feed my soul tbh I'd actually die for your writing I go feral when you update the JC series or just post something in general 💞💞💞 (idk how to end this lmao I barely request stuff LMAOOOO idk if I'm even doing it right 😭) (also feel free to make it as horny as you want you can literally make it the sexiest of smut or just make it completely cute and tooth rottingly sweet!!!!!) (Again ignore this if it's something you're not interested in or if it breaks a rule or something!!!!!!)

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw thank you love ❤️Happy new year to you too❤️Thank you for your support, my dear. I hope you will love this one too❤️

Part 1

ThrawnxF!reader

Tag : Non descriptive birth, cunni, P in V, creampie

You open your eyes, your face bathing in a ray of sun. It is already quite hot outside, but the hut retains the freshness of the night quite well. You rise in a seating position, on your mattress of hay and palm tree leaves in a sheet of linen. Next to you Thrawn’s spot is cold already, he must be awake for some time now. You wince as your baby hits your tummy.

“I’m sorry darling, you must be hungry.” You gently caress your swollen stomach. “I will find something for us to eat.”

You stand up on your feet, a little bit unbalanced by your pregnant stomach and head for the main place. You wave at your neighbors that go around their business, greeting you in return.

A month after escaping the cannibal village you crossed paths with another alien species, beings you can at best described as frog people with their globulous eyes and slimy greenish skin, but full of kindness and a strong community sense. They welcomed you in their village, feeded you and soothed your wounds, and contrary to the cannibal village Thrawn did not detect any ill intent or habits in their art. He analyzed that they were former peaceful wanderers of the universe that crashed on the planet like you did millennia ago. In fact, the village is right next to the destroyed carcass of the ship that brought them here, the survivor took everything useful from the ship and built a new community.

They now speak a bastardization of Basic, permitting you to communicate with them quite well, even if there are still some mishaps here and there. You came to discover the cannibals took them regularly for preys and they had the greatest difficulties at repelling them, their former peaceful ways led to a more armed culture but they are still not efficient soldiers. That’s when Thrawn intervened. He trained with their warriors to get used to their different weapons and tactics and convinced the chiefs to let him lead their warriors on the next attack. 

And he did.

Successfully. 

For the first time in the millenia of conflict between the two species the frog people didn’t lose any lives or children to the cannibals. The party that followed that night was grandiose and flashy, the frog people warmly thanked Thrawn and offered you both to stay at the village.  

You accepted, given they weren’t murderous cannibals. Thrawn pondered the question longer, still focused on the possibility of finding a way to come back to the Empire.

There wasn’t.

The frog people spreaded all around the globe of that planet and established colonies on all the continents and kept a tight diplomatic bond between each colony. The chiefs proposed you remain in the village to relax for while they sent messages to the other colonies to ask them. You have been in the village for some weeks now but Thrawn decided he would go to meet the other colony and have the chance to ask for himself. And you would not let his politically incompetent ass go anywhere alone unless you wanted him to create chaos, so you decided to go with him. But the morning of your departure you started puking and couldn’t walk without feeling weak so Thrawn carried you bridal style to the healer of the tribe, deciding to postpone his travel until you knew what was going on.

And you didn’t have to wait long.

After examining your body and checking your hormonal balance with some reactives plants the healer determined that you were pregnant! You had a moment of silence, brain frozen, taking in the news and asked for other tests to be conducted immediately, she obliged, and ended up with the same results. Thrawn wasn’t in the hut, politely waiting outside while she examined your body.

You were at a loss of words. A multitude of contradicting emotions raging in your brain and heart.

You were pregnant? Chiss and humans are compatible?

How would Thrawn react? How should YOU react? It was one thing to share a night of passion with your enemy turned ally while you were stranded, carrying his child and heir was a complete other matter!The healer noticed your clear lack of enthusiasm and asked if you wanted to terminate the pregnancy now.

You had no words. Should you do it? Should you not? How would your comrades react at the sight of you bearing the child of the Grand Admiral Thrawn?

Should you even tell him? If you took the preparation she was handing you and terminated the pregnancy in its early stage, was it even worth informing Thrawn?

You decided that yes.

It was.

You called for him and he entered the hut, kneeling down next to you he gently put a strand of hair out of your face with his fingers in a reassuring gesture. You smiled at him gently and warned him to stay seated for the news. He turned to the healer, squinting his eyes in concentration and maybe some worry.

“Is it a dangerous illness?” He asked, “Is her life at risk?”

“Her life is at risk, but not by an illness. This is simply the circle of life.”

He tilted his head, clearly not understanding the healer's words. You took his hand and squeezed it, looking at him in the eyes.

“Thrawn…” You started, deadly serious, “I am pregnant.”

He fully turned to you in complete silence, his eyes barely rounding up in surprise, his control remaining total. Will you one day be able to surprise this man?

He remained mute for a full minute, eyes fixed in yours, before opening his mouth.

“Do you want this child?” Was his only question, his only worry.

“I… Do not know.” You confessed. “What if we find a way to go home?”

“I would not impose you to follow me in the Empire’s ranks.”

“Then could I deprive this child of their father? Could I tell them their parents are mortal enemies?”

“Maybe you could send them to me.” He proposed.

“And have them in the Imperial system? Out of the question! My child will not be an imperial pawn!” You exclaimed resolutely.

“I could send them to the Ascendancy.” He proposed again.

You pondered that possibility. You live a dangerous life made of battles and combats, constantly on the run. Thrawn has more stability, but you will not make your child and Imperial citizen, they will be free and nothing else. Sending them to the Ascendancy, to Thrawn original worlds however… might be their best chances. He talked to you about it for long hours, revealing to you his memories, maybe… Maybe this is the best you could offer that child.

Of course it would mean being separated from your own flesh and blood, but the life you would give them isn’t a life for a child.

“That’s a good idea.” You finally nod. “It would be a more stable environment for them.”

Thrawn squeezed your hand approvingly in response

“But do you even want this child?” You raise your head to him, “We never talked about it. We don’t even know what we are.”

Since that night you shared, you didn’t leave each other's side, living, sleeping, bathing together, just spending the days hand in hand. But you are not in a regular situation, is a relationship started in such extreme conditions as of a crash a stable basis for a healthy couple? Do the standard relationships apply to you? So far away from all laws and civilization do putting a label on your situation even make sense?

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You are the one carrying the embryo, you have the final word. But if you ask me : yes. I want that child.”

But you are still unsure. Are you ready to be a mom? Delivery in those conditions could be incredibly dangerous for you and the baby, what about infections, complications? The frog people kept some techniques and technology from when they still traveled the universe but a lot of machinery simply died for lack of energy source or repair pieces. Could you give birth away from the comfort and security offered by a hospital?

The healer took the powder and poured it in an envelope that she handed to Thrawn.

“Take the time to think about it.” She simply said, giving you a bay to eat to help with nausea.

You exited the little hut in silence, the envelope pressed against your chest. Thrawn circled your shoulders with his arm.

“We need to talk.” He said very seriously, “Let’s put you to bed, first.”

He guided you to your hut and helped you lay down, putting the traveling gear in one corner of the room.

“I am sorry.” You breathed, “I’m slowing you down.”

“No need for excuses. You are forgiven.” He responded by coming back to you, kneeling at your side.

He put his hand on your forehead to take your temperature very delicately.

“Are you comfortable?” 

You nod, the nausea slowly subsiding. He remains silent for a long moment, only caressing your forehead, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. But he is never lost, merely reorganizing his brain like a computer.

“What?” you asked with a little voice.

“Nothing.” He said.

“You are fixing me so intently.”

“I am simply thinking, I thought about what you said: “We don’t even know what we are”.”

You purse your lips. It’s true you said that.

You were content about what you had all this time but the prospect of a child put everything into perspective and demanded clarifications.

“I am not wrong. We never really discussed about us, just lived in the present moment.” you argue.

“You are right, it was not a criticism.” He tampers with his deep melodious voice, “Were you happy during those times?”

“Yes.” you confess.

“Me too.” he admits too, “Do you envision yourself pursuing this relationship seriously?”

“I… Is this what you want? We talked about keeping seeing each other and all that, but… Does being a couple make any sense here? Does going official have any weight in our situation?”

“To me it does.” He tilted his head, “I want to be with you. Live with you, build a family with you.”

“And when we get rescued?” You ask, “You didn’t renounce that possibility. What then? We go our merry way, tearing the family apart?”

“I am afraid we will be blocked here for some time.” He responded, “If we ever get rescued.”

You frowned.

“You think there is a risk we stay stranded here?”

“This is a possibility to keep in mind.” He ominously said

You sighed, suddenly exhausted. You closed your eyes, trying to clear your mind.

“Do not take the medicine, please.” You suddenly heard him murmuring so low you almost doubted you heard him.

You reopen your eyes to look at him interrogatively.

“I want this baby. I want to be a father. I want to live with you and see our children grow. Leave me a chance to prove to you I am worth it.” He said, looking into your gaze with sparkly eyes.

His tone was assured and affirmative but you saw so much hope in those red eyes, all the dreams he had to leave behind when he became a Grand Admiral, he could live them here. He could restart anew, fresh,  become the man he dreamed to be deep inside himself.

You raised in a seating position with a grumble.

“I do not doubt your worth, nor your capacities to be a father, but… There is so much uncertainty, so much fog… I cannot take that decision carelessly.”

“I understand your doubts and difficult position. And whatever you do, I will respect your choice. But, if I may tell you my opinion, again, please do not take the medicine. I will be here for you and the child, I want us to live all together. As a family”

“I will think about it…” You clench your fist around the envelope.

“Of course, Cha’cah.” He leaned forward to capture your lips in an infinitely soft kiss that you would have never believed him capable of, “The final choice is yours only.”

He caressed your cheek, kissed your forehead and left you alone to nap and gather energy.

You didn’t sleep, a headache threatened you all day long. And as usual, when night came you felt his arms wrapping around your form, tighter this night. You were pressed against his broad chest, his warm body, shielding you from the rest of the world.

You never took the medicine.

You pondered it during long weeks before one day standing still in front of Thrawn and handing him the envelope.

“Get rid of it.” you simply said.

He looked at the envelope, squinting, before grasping your arm and pulling you in a tight hug.

“Thank you.” He murmured, nose buried in your hair.

And that is how you ended up giving birth to your daughter. A healthy little girl in a rush to come into the world.

You woke up in the middle of the night like someone stabbed your womb before realizing your waters broke. Thrawn, awakened in a flash, helped you to the healer and she woke up all the women of the village, all came in the middle of the night to help. A birth is a matter of the entire community here.

They helped you to get rid of your tight clothes and enter a bath, trying to help you relax and relieve any tension. Thrawn was pushed outside the hut unceremoniously at first, “it is a women’s affair only.” They said to him, you don’t know what he responded but he was finally authorized to stay after a back and forth. He came to your side and took your hand, circling your shaking shoulders with his long arm.

“You got this, Cha’cah. I know you can do it.” He praised and supported you.

He talked to you during the whole process, taking your mind off the pain, kissing your temple, squeezing your hand.

Until finally, you heard her first scream.

She was as blue as him, with the same red eyes, but she inherited your hair. You immediately took her in your arms, still shaking and full of sweat but so relieved and happy.

Your little baby.

Your daughter.

Thrawn cut the umbilical cord with the fang dagger he gave you and came to your side to admire his daughter, delicately caressing her head still full of blood.

“She looks like you.” You say out of breath and the heart spilling love.

“Indeed. But she has your features. She will be as beautiful as you.”

He hugged you both like you could vanish at any second.

“Welcome to the world, little one. I love you so much.” He murmured, taking her in his large hands.

“What should we call her?” You ask. “We should pick a Chiss name.”

He looked at you with a hint of surprise and gratitude.

“What do you think of… Thaishi?” He proposed with a thin smile, eyes fixated on the baby.

“Taishi… Little Thaishi.” You make the name roll on your tongue, “I like it a lot.”

“Welcome Thaishi. My daughter.” He let out still incredulous, but the love and warmth was unmistakable in his voice. He immediately initiated skin-to-skin contact, trying to appease your daughter’s cries before the healer took her to examine her.

It was four years ago.

Thaishi speaks and sprints everywhere now, she is unstoppable, making you run after her all day long under Thrawn’s amused loving gaze. 

She is already at the buffet this morning when you arrive at the center of the village. The frog people cook for the community and not for individuals, hunt together, fish together, gather together and they eat all together. But today is not your day to cook so you slept late.

You caress Thaishi’s head who doesn’t even take the time to sit with others to eat, she just picks what she wants and eats it immediately. She looks up to you with her mouth full, making her look like a hamster.

“Go sit with the kids, little terror.” You kiss her forehead.

She picks up three other fruits and runs to the kiddos and sits with them.

“(Y/n), we could have brought the food to your hut!” The lady in charge of the cooks today chastises you.

“No, it’s better if I come to eat with everyone.” You respond with an appeasing smile, “Did you see Thrawn this morning?”

“He was out hunting with the youngs early, they should… Ah! Talk about the wolf!”

You spin on yourself, your plate in hand, to see the hunters entering the village with their games. Thrawn stands out with his deep blue skin against their green ones, you notice him immediately. Everyone comes to them to inspect the meat and congratulate the hunters.

“How is my wife this morning?” Thrawn asks, pulling you in his arms immediately.

You giggle as he presses you against his large body, your pregnant belly in the way. He leans forward to kiss you tenderly and then kneels to caresses your belly with enamored red eyes.

You feel your baby giving a kick against his palm.

“They are full of energy.” He notes satisfied.

“Thaishi is too! I have trouble containing her sometimes.”

“Thaishi, listen to your mother.” Thrawn takes his daughter's shoulder in his hand, “It is important to obey adults, young one. We do it for your protection.”

“But I can’t help it, I want to run and jump everywhere!” She responds with her mouth full.

“Young lady, your table manners are lacking. We need to correct them.” He boops her nose.

She gulps her bite down and smiles at him with all her teeth.

“Go play, we will study Cheuhn later.” He smoothes her hair and pushes her gently towards the kids.

You both look at her running again to her comrades, the only blue skin and red eyes in the green and globulous eyes. 

You sigh, the heart so full of love it could explode any minute now, when you feel Thrawn arms circling your shoulders.

“She’s four already.” You let out.

“Yes. She is growing quickly.”

“I feel like I gave birth to her yesterday and now look at her… Running all over without losing her balance. Maker… Tomorrow she will be a fully grown adult.”

“She will not, do not worry. She will remain our little lady whatever happens.”

You glance at him with a little grin.

“Are you becoming sentimental, Thrawn? What’s happening to my tough warrior?”

He chuckles lowly in response, amused.

“I have always been sentimental since she was a baby. Do not tell me you never noticed?”

“Oh I did notice! It was quite endearing to see you melt before her by the way! Seeing your facade cracking before your own baby…” You lay your head on his shoulder, caressing his cheek. “You have a good heart, Thrawn.”

“When it comes to you three, I always do.” He puts a hand on your tummy “What did the healer say yesterday?”

“They are growing quickly and well. I gained plenty of weight, my hormones are balanced and she didn’t notice anything wrong.”

“Yes, but she doesn’t have the correct equipment, so much could escape her.” He argues, suddenly frowning.

“Thrawn… Women have been giving birth here in those conditions for a millenia! So much they spread all over the continents, their death rate is really low. She knows her stuff.” You comfort him, holding his cheeks in your hands.

He slowly nod.

“You are right, as always.”

“I already gave birth, I can do it. I know I can.” You insist.

He kisses your palms delicately.

“I trust you, Cha’cah.”

“Good.” You raise on tiptoes to brush your nose with his. “Did you eat this morning?”

“I did, right before the hunt.” He squeezes your hand, “I will be on the ship if you need me.” 

He kisses your forehead and grabs and carries Thaishi on his shoulders making her scream laughing among the children. 

You go back with the others, sitting on your ankles, observing your husband and daughter as you eat your fruits. Your minds start wandering back to the night you wed Thrawn, you remember being in his arms, heavily pregnant with Thaishi, laying on your mattress. He was caressing your hair as your cheek was pressed against his chest, listening to his beating heart.

“We should get married.” He suddenly said in the dark of the night.

“Why?” you asked, yawning.

“We have a baby on the way. We should do it for them.”

“For them? Not because you’re so in love with me you could feel your heart explode?” You tease him with a light laugh.

“Do you doubt my love?”

“No Thrawn, I was simply joking. I do not doubt you.” You brush your cheek on the skin of his pec to reassure him.

Something you picked up on is Thrawn's low self esteem, or rather poor view of his own person. You realized it listening to him talk about his time in the Ascendancy, he measures his self worth though his capacity to serve and obey his people, completely ignoring his innate value as an individual being. He thinks of himself as a tool, a cog, in the great scheme of things. Just a usable asset to throw away once he has served his purpose. And maybe the most terrifying thing in this situation is that he was contented by this. To him he isn’t deserving of respect and love if he fails his duties. It is a completely normal situation to him, something he has internalized and never questioned.

So he didn’t understood you throwing yourself at him to hug him tight and reassuring him that you loved him. He stayed still, like frozen, listening to you declaring your love to him so suddenly he had nothing to say, maybe a bit shocked.

From this day on you took care to tell him everyday that you loved him, hugging and kissing him, showering him with your love, proving to him that whatever flaws he had or whatever failures he may have committed, he was worthy of unconditional love.

“I love you, (y/n). It is a fact that I cannot deny. When I realize you are in my presence, my heart tightens. When you speak, my heart seems to jump. When you are in my arms, it races. I daresay those symptoms point to love.”

“I know, my love.” You grazed your finger on his chest, “I love you all the same. I am truly at ease and relieved when you are at my side. I worry when I do not feel your presence.”

He took your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“I will not leave you. I am whole and appeased only with you.” 

You raised your head to kiss his jaw tenderly.

“I want to tie my legacy to yours, be a family.” He continues. 

You looked intently at his laying form silently.

“Because you miss yours?”

He remained silent and his gaze fixed on the ceiling seemed to harden.

“There is no need to hide it, love. It is natural to long for the presence of your family, whoever you are. It means you have a heart and a home to go back to.”

“I have a duty towards them. I will not go back to them until it is done.” He finally said with a hard tone.

It wasn’t directed against you, you knew it, it was simply a testimony of his resolution.

“So you truly want it?” You questioned gently.

“It would fill my heart with bliss if you bestowed yourself to me.” He confessed with a tone of  confidence, caressing your cheek.

“If you promise to love me for all eternity, I accept to be yours.” You said.

He kissed your knuckles again before putting your hand on his beating heart.

“For all eternity, Cha’cah. You have my word.”

You lowered yourself and kissed his lips gently, he responded lasciviously, deepening the kiss.

He stood up, helped you rise on your feet and you sneaked away in the night to the Chiefs hut like children who would have stolen a cookie jar. The chiefs performed the ceremony according to their traditions and you were married to Thrawn.

To your Grand Admiral.

And him to his Rebel.

You shared the decisive kiss with the chiefs benedictions and felt your heart tightening with love. He kissed your forehead tenderly while caressing your cheek and you hugged him tight.

Now, with you pregnant, your destinies were intertwined forever.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You never told the rest of the community, they didn’t need to know. You were together and that is all that mattered.

But there was one dark stain on the canvas.

You made peace with the fact that you wouldn’t get rescued by now. That is also why you carried the pregnancy to term and accepted his hand in marriage. Because deep down you felt you would never get out of this isolated planet.

But Thrawn didn’t.

Thrawn keeps fighting everyday to go home. 

And you’re not sure how to feel about that.

Was it his loyalty to the Empire or his relentless devotion to the Ascendancy that pushed him so much? He refused to answer.

But coming back signifies saying goodbye. And that’s tearing your heart apart. When you realized he was tempering with the ship communication device to send messages to the Empire you badly reacted, you had your first real fight. He refused to stay arms dangling when his duties called for him and you refused to help go back to his murderous Empire.

In the end you remained a rebel and a Grand Admiral.

And it created the first cracks in your marriage.

A chance Thaishi was still a baby and couldn’t understand why her parents were arguing, but she did pick up on the bad vibes and your cracked voice and started crying. Before Thrawn could pick her up to console her, you took her, shouting he better get used to not seeing his family if he wanted to go back to the Empire so badly and ran off to the hut of friends and remained here for a full week.

You regretted those words. So badly. He never once raised his voice against you, remaining calm, but also so cold, so calculating, his determined gaze terrified you so you preferred to flee with your daughter.

He came to your friends’ hut everyday to see his child and everyday you refused, hugging her against your heart. You were so mad, so terrified, so… So betrayed! How could he dare do that to your family?

When you accepted to receive him, he sat down in front of you in silence, just observing his baby in your arms with a loving gaze.

But he was actively trying to tear his family apart and you couldn’t forgive him just yet.

“How is she?” he asked

“Good.”

“Can I hold her?”

“No.” you placidly answered

He simply took a deep breath in response before opening his mouth again.

“We should talk.”

“Indeed we should. You have a lot of explaining to do.” You frowned.

“I had good reasons to try to go back to the Empire.”

“Yes, evidently you are still very much attached to this tyranny.”

“You do not understand. I didn’t tell you everything.”

You raise an eyebrow, what could he say to save his image now?

“If I am so attached to this tyranny, as you call it, it is to save my worlds.”

And he explained everything to you, all the secrets he kept hidden all this time, secrets nobody’s outside of him and a certain Ba’kif knew about. The true reasons of his mission and allegiance to the Empire, anything he didn’t tell you before.

You just listen silently, eyes round and mouth agape.

“... You may hate me now, but I will demand to keep seeing my daughter. This is all I ask for.”

“I…” You just manage to say, lost “I am sorry, Thrawn.”

He remained silent, sounding you with his inquisitive red gaze, awaiting your reaction once you gathered your thoughts.

“I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” You concede, “But I couldn’t turn a blind eye either…” You try to show him where you come from.

But he is determined.

“I know. But my success depends on the success of the Empire.”

“The success of the Empire implies the subjugation of all races and slavery.”

“Not when I will have taken control of it. This is a necessary evil for now.”

“This is horrible… How can you say that?” You said, pained.

“This is war, casualties are inevitable. ” He insisted, “But when I will lead it, everything will end. You need to trust me.”

You lower your gaze to observe your daughter’s face. She is peacefully sleeping in your arms, soothed by both of your voices. She is as blue as him, with the same red eyes…

You already tied yourself to him, for better and for worse…

You sigh, closing your eyes. You hear him getting closer and circling your shoulders with his arm.

“I need you to trust me, cheo Cha’cah. I do it for the greater good.” He murmurs soothingly.

You purse your lips.

“I will not hinder you, but do not expect me to help you in any way!” You annonce with tenacity.

“Alright.” He gently kisses your shoulder, “Are you still mad?”

“Yes! A lot! But… I understand better now.” You say giving him a side glance.

He looks deep into your eyes, squeezing your shoulders against his body.

“I love you…” He confesses like a secret.

“Me too…” You reassure him. “But I will need time.”

“Will you let me hold our daughter?”

You gently give him your baby and she opens her eyes to meet his. He presses her delicately against his chest, a skin-to-skin hug so important for babies. She grabs one of his fingers in her little fist and starts babbling, smiling at her father.

“Hello you.” He gently says, “I missed you.”

You purse your lips, feeling like a heartless monster for depriving him of his child, and her, her father.

He slept with Thaishi in his arms that night and you pressed yourself against him, looking at your baby, cheek pressed on the chest of her father, sleeping soundly, at peace.

And you cried, knowing that this could come to an end one day.

You’re being brutally called back to reality when Thaishi sprinted into your laps to smash into you.

“Leys proposed to me to spend the day with her!” She exclaims joyfully as you try to catch your breath after that hit.

You turn towards Ley’s mother, slowly nodding.

“You need some peace and quiet at that point in your pregnancy, (Y/n). Relax for the day, we will take care of the kids.”

You turn back to Thaishi, eyes full of hope.

“Alright, but you must promise to behave well when you are with them! And don’t forget your Cheuhn lesson with your father.”

“Yes, mom!” She already sprints back to her friends group, barely listening to you.

She only listens to her father. You sigh, shaking your head.

Kids…

You yawn and decide to use this newfound liberty to take a nap, even if you just woken up. You were soundly sleeping for some hours now, back at your hut, when you felt a warm body pressing itself against your back and strong, large hands caressing your pregnant belly.

“Welcome back, sir…” You yawn.

Thrawn kisses your shoulders, pressing you tighter against his large body.

“How are you feeling?” He whispers.

“Heavy!” You burst out laughing “And fat! This belly gets in the way of everything, it’s impressive.”

“You are beautiful like that.” He insists, “I found you more and more hypnotizing as your pregnancy advances” He keeps caressing your tummy tenderly.

“Are you sure you are the most objective person in this situation?” You argue back with a side grin.

“I need not to be objective, I only need my eyes to witness your bewitching beauty. And I can confidently say you are the most beautiful of all.”

“Even when my body is limp and bloated like that?”

“Especially like that. You being pregnant is a real… Temptation.” He breathes lowly in your ear, “I have all the pain in the world to maintain my control.”

“You? Struggling to keep your control in check? I do not believe you sir.” You laugh.

“And yet, such is the effect you have on me.” He starts kissing your neck, slowly going up. “You mesmerize me in every possible way.” He licks your ear with the tip of his tongue.

“You are really touchy today.” You squirm in his embrace, brushing your soft body against his muscles.

“I have been struck by a real vision.” 

“Well thank you sir, I take care of myself!” You joke. “You are quite handsome yourself!”

Your hair has grown too by the time and he buries his nose in it to inhale your scent.

“I want to eat you up.” He says with a growl.

“Aren’t I delectable?” You keep joking.

“You are. Exactly to my taste, but you misunderstood me.” He leans again, blowing on the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine, “I want to eat you out until you are a shaking mess in my hands, until you can not remember your own name.” He gives another quick lick to your ear.

His deep voice has such an effect on you, you can’t help but shudder in response, much to his satisfaction. Thrawn proved himself physically affectionate, not shy to express his love physically in public or in private… Especially in private! And even though Thaishi’s birth didn’t stop your sex life, it is true it slowed it down a bit. Your last sexual relationship was some months ago and the new pregnancy didn’t help, even though… Thrawn looks at you differently when you’re pregnant.

You're convinced it teases something deeply buried in his psyche and entrails, it excites him, always looking at you wherever you are, always holding you in his arms in some ways, keeping you to himself…

You remember your first pregnancy, he had his hands all over you all day long, drinking between your legs for long hours, getting more and more unhinged as your tummy started to get bigger and bigger. 

Maybe it is one of his kinks… You have the occasion to verify it today…

You turn to face him with a cheeky grin.

“So you like me pregnant.” You state. 

“It is a wonder of nature.”

“Is that it?” You innocently pull on your shirt to reveal your belly to his eyes.

The light growl emanating from him was unmistakable. His gleaming eyes seem to shine brighter and you think you see him gulp.

“Just a wonder of nature?” You insist, blinking your eyes naively.

“I wonder what kind of reaction you expect of me, flashing your pregnant belly to me.”

“I don’t know… Maybe I am simply curious?”

He raises an eyebrow in response, not buying your innocent act.

“Curious?” He repeats cautiously.

“Curious about the fantasy of my man… What titillates him, what excites him, what drives him absolutely…” You keep your act, drawing sweet circles with your nail on your heavy tummy. “... Crazy.”

He takes a deep breath, eyes locked on your round belly, clearly interested in what you have to offer. His growl takes a dive in the deeper tone, squinting his eyes, trying to maintain his cool in front of your insolent temptation allurement.

He remains very set back in his fantasies, never truly revealing his true taste, preferring to oblige yours instead so you have only an unfinished portrait of his kinks.

But this…

This caught his attention well and you intend to play a bit with it.

“I feel like I have your full attention.” you smile cheekily.

“You do.” he says, cautious of your little game, but so tempted.

“My belly is so soft and warm, if only you could feel it like I do.” You tease mercilessly. “Do you like me pregnant with your child?”

“Yes. A lot.” His voice is no more than a growl now.

He extends his hand to caress your tummy and you slap it immediately. He groans, displeases, and frowns in response.

“No touch. You can only admire.”

“You have no mercy.” He mediates, “Will you really deny me?”

“Maybe. After all, physical exhaustion is really bad for me, I don’t know if letting you do what you want is good for the baby.” You clap back without pity for him.

“I do believe what I have in mind is really good for both of you.” He insinuates lowly.

“You have no proof of what you say.”

“Really? We can go ask the healer right now and we will know where we stand.” He responds without missing a bit, absolutely serious.

You observe him haughtily, like you’re not believing him and don’t intend to give up. He presses himself tighter to you. You wonder how it would get if you pushed him to his limits… 

He has always been soft and tender to you, but you’re curious. How is he when he is mad? When you push his dominant tendencies? 

You refrain from smiling like a deviant.

“Let me show you what I mean, and you will judge for yourself.” He proposes.

“I do not know if I will let you, mister. I am not convinced.” You put your hand on his mouth to push him back with a grin.

He licks your palm to get rid of your hand with a dark gaze.

“Do not play with me.” He warns.

“Or what? What will you do to your heavily pregnant wife?” You tease.

He flinches imperceptibly at the mention of your pregnancy, growling deeply like an annoyed animal.

“You couldn’t hurt a fly. I am not afraid in the slightest, mister.”

He looks at you intently and suddenly his Intense gaze melts into sparkling eyes and he lets out a sneer.

“You will not gain what you want by playing with my ego, Cha’cah.”

Oh Makers damn it!

“Come on!” You insist, pressing yourself more against him, “Humor me!”

“No.” He chuckles, amused like he would with a child, “You will not win that fight.”

“Pffffff… You’re no fun.” You purse your lips, sulking.

“On the contrary, I can be a lot of fun.” He embraces you tightly, “You just need to find the right levers.”

“I had one! You clearly were hanging onto every word when I showed you my belly!” You contest.

“Indeed. And you would have won if you kept playing with this strategy, but you made the tactical error of changing the point of pressure.”

You grumble, frustrated. You were really curious, how is sex with him when he’s mean and overly dominant?

“Do not frown, cheo cha’cah. You need not to play the temptress to seduce me, your innate charms work wonders.” He tries to soothe you.

“I wanted to see how it would go if you were mean and harsh.” You pout.

“Being mean and harsh to you is not appealing to me. I would rather honor you than demeaning you in any way.” He kisses your forehead.

You’re still deadly curious.

“I will find a way, one day.” You promise, seething.

“Do not sulk, my love.” He smiles, entertained, “Let me take care of you, it will ease the tension between your eyebrows, my darling.” He continues, lowering himself to kiss your clavicle and going more south.

He kisses your tummy reverently, leaving sweet kisses all over it while caressing it. You feel the baby giving him a kick and he responds with a final, loving peck.

“They too are quite energetic.” He notes, satisfied, “You keep giving me healthy and strong children. Thank you.”

He then reports his attention to your skirt that he slides down your hips and legs with ease. Still pouting, you close your legs shut to deny him, he chuckles again, sliding his hands between the flesh of your thighs and successfully opening them for him.

“Come on now, there is no need to be difficult, sweet thing. I know you love it when I go down on you.” 

It’s true.

With him being so good at it, you can only love it in return. But he doesn’t want to entertain your fancy so you won’t entertain his. You cross your arms over your chest with a grumble.

“You are unbelievable, cheo Cha’cah. You act like a spoiled child.” You hear his smug smile in his voice, hidden behind your stomach. “But I know how to make you react, I know everything about you.”

You feel the cold air on your pussy as he slides your panties on the side, he blows on your clit playfully, sending a shiver down your spine again but you refrain from the whine that threatens to pass your lips.

“I will have you sing soon enough, my love.” He says with his usual confidence.

He takes a sloppy lick at your pussy and you greet your teeth together. 

Do not make a sound! Do not make a sound! Do not make a sound!

Unimpressed by your headstrong attitude, he keeps licking your pussy lips lazily, like a tired, lascivious king, moaning his own pleasure for you.

He also knows that you absolutely love hearing him moan and groan, vocalizing his pleasure out loud, it goes straight to your empty pussy that starts to signify to you that it is scandalously empty.

He laps at your cunny slowly with the flat of his tongue, trailing your slit with his tip and sucking your nervous clit. You bite your lips and dig your nails into the flesh of your arms to maintain control over yourself.

“Your pussy is more honest than you are.” He notes, “It gets wetter to my touch while you childishly refuse to indulge.”

Oh, he’s one to talk about indulgence, mister frugal lifestyle!

“You do not! I am a dry ice cube! In fact I’m starting to get bored!” You manage to let out in a hurry before any tremors come to shake your voice.

Again he simply chuckles at you.

“You will break, my love.” He simply announces, kissing your sweet pussy between each word. “That is an absolute certainty.”

You’ll show him you can maintain control over your own person. You will not break!

But he is right on one point, your pussy does get wetter by the seconds, at you great damn.

You keep your jaws closed shut, froward. He resumes laving at your soft pussy that gets softer and softer as your blood travels south. You feel him spread your pussylips with his fingers to lick your hidden, tender flesh.

You feel your abdominals contracting at his sweet touch, and it didn’t escape him.

“Oh? Are those the first shivers of your undeniable pleasure?” He teases.

“I’m just cold.” You bite back

“Not for long, sweet thing. I will make sure of it.”

As he keeps licking your now dripping pussy you start hearing his purr resonating in the hut. He enjoys himself very much. He loves eating you out as much as you do, if not more. You suddenly feel his tongue entering your wet cavern and start tonguefucking you.

A single moan escapes you before you press your hand on your mouth. His purr drops down to deeper tones, sending shivers through your puffy, wet, walls, raising your hardly refutable pleasure…

“My little bird does not wish to sing for me? It is alright, I will have you crying, Cha’cah.”

And he starts fucking you harshly in retaliation, his tongue waving and grazing your G spot with such ease it is almost comical. His hand comes to flicker and press your clit, puffy with blood. He makes it roll between his fingers, titillates it consciously as he drinks your slick as he would drink water.

Maker those debauched sounds…

How the wet sounds of your little pussy and his grunts sound to your ears… This is highly depraved and debaucherous.

So exciting… Argh! Get a grip of yourself! Do not let him win!

He is… motivated, to say the least. He must have taken your vow of silence as a personnel challenge because he seems determined to have you cum hard and rapidly. He is eating you out with energy and a will you only encountered when you fought him in battle.

Despite your closed mouth, your uncontrollable whimpers can be heard well in this little room and it is the sweetest melody to his ears, only encouraging him to double his efforts. He eats you out enthusiastically, nastily, roughly, abusing your tender flesh with his swollen lips. He continues moaning without any shame, letting you know that he has no qualms enjoying himself to the fullest while you hold on to a childish pride.

Your dripping pussy convulses around his wet, flexible limb as he brushes your gummy spot with his tip expertly, making your pleasure rise more and more until it comes crashing down upon you. Your little cunny clenches painfully around his tongue and you come against his mouth and against your will.

“What a remarkably honest body you have, cheo Cha’cah. Letting me know everything I need to know without a fuss. Guiding me through your true desires so eagerly.”

“You’re full of yourself!” you spit out.

He gently kisses your thighs, licking you soft, plump flesh with a deep moan.

 “Abandon your immature act and just enjoy yourself. Why deny yourself like that, little rebel?” He asks curiously

You do not respond like a mutineer.

“Sometimes I do not understand you.” He sighs.

He kisses your pussy reverently, like he gallantly kisses your hand before rising up to free his erection of his constrictive pants. You look away, stubborn, refusing to look at the member that used to give you so many orgasms before.

“You looking away will not impede the inevitable.”

You feel him coat his shaft with your essence, brushing his cock between your slit back and forth, soaking it with your slick. It brushes against your erected, nervous clit and you have to fight another mewl rising in your throat.

“Your body gives me so much pleasure, I am thankful to you, my love.” He lets you know with a tone of secrets, “We should indulge more, sharing such intimate moments is so important to build a healthy relationship. I know our sex life slowed down since we became parents, but I still look at you as a woman first, not only a mother, with all the desires and craving it implies.” He continues.

He’s trying to win you over! To make you lower your defenses! You’ll not surrender for some sugary words, you have more will than that! He sighs lasciviously and unfastens his long hair, letting them frame his handsome face and draping his large shoulders. You gasp at this gorgeous sight.

“I know you think I am trying to sweeten you. I am simply telling my truth.” He brushes his noses in the crook of your neck, caressing your full tummy so tenderly. “Even if you obstinate yourself to deny yourself pleasure for an infantile vagaries, it will not prevent me from doing my best to satisfy you as it is my duty, cheo Cha’cah.” He informs you as a sentence.

You close your eyes shut as he pushes himself inside you, his size making it difficult for your little pussy. You press your lips in a thin line as he splits you in two with his massive member.

“I missed how your little pussy strangles me.” He gasps, deeply satisfied.

He keeps pushing further, pushing your inner flesh apart until you feel his tip brushing your cervix deep, deep inside your most secret place. 

You gulp, bracing yourself for what is to come.

“You are so tense, my love. You should relax.” He says tenderly, “There is no need to make the experience uncomfortable for you.”

“I am 8 months pregnant, I do not simply "relax "." You mock.

“A deep and warm orgasm should help you get more comfortable, my sweet. You can count on me.” He keeps offering you sweet words.

He starts moving, with shallow thrusts, taking it easy on your sore body. You breathe deeply through your nose, trying not to focus on the delicious sensations his ridges give you, how wonderfully full you feel with him inside, how right it feels to have your husband like that. A strangled yelp escapes you as he resumes teasing your clit with his hand as he thrusts into you.

“Give me your hand.” He orders softly.

You feel him trail your arm until he reaches your hand and intertwines your fingers together.

He deepens his thrusts, going deeper, slipping out almost entirely leaving just the tip inside and pushes it back in languorously, undulating his hips against yours.

You try so hard to fight back the waves of pleasure, tensing up your muscles under his inquisitive gaze, but he gives you so much, it is so hard to shield yourself completely when he puts so much energy and love in each of his thrusts, forcing you to endure the delight he offers. You feel tears building up behind your eyes.

You hiss as he rocks his hips with a quicker pace, sliding in and out easily thanks to your first orgasm, the waves of pleasure poisoning your veins and nerves ending.

“You are so reactive for someone who refuses pleasure.” He placidly notes, “You can try and hide as much as you want, you cannot lie to me, my love. I know you too well. Your body is an open book to me. Denying it is… useless.” He says, modulating his deep, melodious voice as he knows you prefer.

You shake your head vehemently.

“I experienced your body for years, sweet thing. I know it as well as mine. I studied it carefully, each and every single one of your reactions. I know how to please it, I know how to bring it to the verge of an earth shattering orgasm.”

He is so confident in his capacities to please you, you’ll give him that. He keeps rubbing your clit and you try to escape his sweet touch but he grasps your hips and impales you back on his cock, burying it to the hilt. You whine.

“You will not escape it.” It is as much a promise as it is a threat.

He accelerates his pace again, bullying himself into you without any mercy. Your cunny desperately tries to accommodate his size, clenching pathetically around his girthy shaft.

“Those are the reactions I like.” He says smugly. “Kiss me, cheo Cha’cah.”

He lowers himself to reach your lips but you turn your head away.

“Are you so cold hearted to deny me your lips?”

You grumble and swiftly kiss his cheek.

“Satisfied?” you bare your teeth.

“Thank you. But I hoped for more.”

You purse your lips but let him kiss you, you feel him purring against your mouth. You open your mouth and he enters it with his tongue to dance with yours. He squeezes your hand with his as he deepens the kiss, looming over your body. You growl in the kiss but feel his lips draw in a smile.

So you bite his lips in retaliation.

He licks the little bead of blood away, looking at you with a pleased expression.

“I love when you defy me.” He says lowly, keeping his hard pace, “I love it even more when it is clear you will lose.”

“I am losing nothing!”

“I have the clear memory of making you cum two minutes ago. And you will suffer another defeat in less than three. How does it feel, little rebel? Knowing your greatest efforts go to waste against a superior will.”

“Imperial dog!” You spit.

“Keep that energy up, my love.” He kisses your cheek.

He accentuates his hips action, making you squeal uncontrollably.

“Ca-Careful the baby!” You warn indignant.

“The baby is fine.” He replies with a mocking tone, “In fact, they can sense how good their mother feels. I reckon they must enjoy themself thoroughly with you squirming so desperately under my touch.”

“I… Fuck you!”

He snickers and raises on his knees, forcing your hips up in the air. He digs his fingers in the flesh of your plump hips to keep you in place, doing so he removed all control you had over the action. Now you are truly a victim of his will.

“Such foul language. I better understand Thaishi’s manners.”

He slows down the pace to give a circling motion of his hips to vary the sensations, making sure his girth rubs every sensitive spot in your vagina. You tremble terribly in his hands, like struck by lightning. You bite down your lips terribly to not moan.

To no avail…

“Ah yes, the sweet moans of my muse. It only motivates me to work harder for you.”

He plundges his cock deep, scratching every itch, making you sing against your will. You feel tears rolling on your flushed lips as you try to catch up your breath under such physical exercises.

He leans forward to lick your tears away, the salt tingling on his darted tongue deliciously.

“You are beautiful, my sweet. Crying your pleasure out loud like that.”

Embarrassed, you hide your eyes with one arm, only for him to grip it immediately to take it off.

“No, Cha’cah. You do not get to hide from me.”

“Pl-please finish soon…” You beg.

You have enough of this trial and humiliation, you’re too tired to get this beating. Something snapped in your stomach, begging for him to reach his climax and yours with it.

“Finishing this early? But I feel plenty full of ardor today, I had in mind to keep going for one or two hours more. Just to be sure you orgasmed correctly, I would hate to have you unsatisfied, my love, your enjoyment is my priority.”

You tremble, shaken by spasms, convulsing in pleasure, stiffness reaching all of your limbs as the waves of pleasure incapacitate you as they spread in your veins. You feel your little pussy gaping around his shaft desperately trying to keep him in.

“Okay… You won, I surrender. Please, finish soon..” You say panting, gasping for air at each of his powerful thrust.

“My, my, you are giving up so easily, my dear. But your wish is my command.”

He adjusts his position, and installs a break-necking pace. You’re being pushed against the mattress without mercy and you bite your tongue in the confusion. You cannot help the squeals escaping your pretty mouth while he moans in tandem with your plaints.

Your pussy clenches hard as you come, trying to retain him inside, strangling him just like he loves sending him over the edge. He slows down his pace and comes undone inside.

You’re shaking, crying, getting back from your high as he puts his forehead against yours, caressing your cheek.

“Cha’cah?” He calls in a whisper, “Are you alright?”

You nod, your visage hidden in your hands, catching your breath. He kisses your hands before taking them off your face and pecks your cheek and nose.

“Breath deep, cheo Cha’cah. Easy.”

He holds you tight, cradling your body tenderly.

“There… Breath. Everything is alright.”

You gasp, wiping your tears away.

“Oh Maker…” You whimper.

He brushes his nose with yours, his long hair framing his gorgeous face. 

“Everything is fine, you are with me, my love.” He keeps soothing you. 

A sigh mixed with a gasp escapes you as you feel your heart calming down in your chest. Thrawn keeps kissing your face tenderly, holding your cheek in his warm palm. He slips out of you, leaving you intolerably empty and slides to the side where he takes you in his arms to hold you close. You bury your face in his neck and breathe in his musk to calm down, his hand comes caressing your hair gently, appeasingly. 

“I love you.” He murmurs. 

“I love you too… “ You respond, exhausted. 

“We should bathe.”

“I'm too tired… “ You complain, nudging against him 

“Come on, ch'eo vir. Let me help.”

He rises with 8 months pregnant you in his arms and heads towards the river where he bathes you both conscientiously, laying you against his naked chest, surrounded by fresh water. You doze off, too relaxed to keep your eyes open. 

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

You were playing with Thaishi when you heard a familiar sound resonate through the air like a loud bang. Immediately, the sky darkens, the sun disappears and a weird silence takes place in the village, everyone looking up.

You raise your head, gulping, and Thaishi points to the large object in the sky. 

“Mum, what's that?” she asks, as fascinated as she appears terrified.

Massive and large,  the ISD floats over the village like a dark presage, brining death and fire with it.

“This is…” You start, feeling panic rising, “This is…”

The two headed serpent leave no doubt who’s ISD it is.

They’re here for Thrawn!

You pick up Thaishi in your arms precipitaly, making her yelp in surprise and run to your hut, hugging her tight. When you arrive you see Thrawn passing the doorframe in his white uniform, hair cut and black boot unsoiled. 

You almost hit him with your speed, but you stop just in time.

“Thrawn!”

“I know, Cha’cah. Do not worry.”

“But… Where does this uniform come from? Why are they here? Why-”

“I managed to contact them.” He drops the bomb.

You look at him completely dumbfounded, at loss for words.

“What? But… How could you…”

He put his hands on your shoulders to ground you.

“Cha’cah, we are going home.”

You feel like the ground just opened under your feet and would swallow you whole. Your legs give up under you, in shock, but Thrawn catches you and Thaishi expertly.

“(Y/n)! Are you alright?”

“Mom?” Your daughter calls for you in the hands of her father, afraid.

You close your eyes.

You cannot believe it.

The day you feared the most came. You will be separated, torn apart, never to see each other again.

Some villagers came to you when you fell, Thrawn let you in their care, kissing your forehead and heading towards the Chief huts.

When you reopen your eyes, you are in the healer’s hut. You discard the wet fabric she placed on your forehead and go outside.

The ISD is here.

Ominous and threatening.

You reel for some steps before straightening yourself. Here you find Thrawn holding Thaishi, the Chiefs and a woman in an imperial uniform.

Where did he hide this perfectly neat uniform? During all those years he hid it from you, well tidied in a box, awaiting its hour. You suddenly feel a spick of ire in your vein at the sight of that clean white.

Thrawn turns towards you, and a light smile comes lightening his face.

“There she is. Commodore Faro I want you to meet Lady (F/n). My wife.”

Faro slowly bows to you, but something in her eyes displeases you.

She knows who you are.

She doesn’t recognize you as a crew member of Thrawn ships and the only other people present that day were Rebels.

She knows.

She gives a side glance at her Grand Admiral but abstains from any comments.

“Lady (F/n).” She politely but coldly greets.

“Everything is taking care of, Cha’cah.” Thrawn continues, “We will embark everyone on board and exit that planet.”

You turn your head to the chiefs, interrogating them with your eyes.

“We agreed to let your husband temper with the ship if he promised us to take us with you.”

“But.. You’ve been here for a millennia… This is your home… Your planet.”

“We are wanderers at heart, our place is flying through space, not remaining on a single rock.”

You turn back to Thrawn, mouth agape and tears behind the eyes.

“Thrawn… You cannot be serious…”

“Cha’cah.” He cuts you softly, “Our place is not here, our home and duties are away from this planet. It is time for us to go.”

You want to slap him across the face, scream at him, telling him that he will never know the child you bare, that he is killing this family.

“Leave me here with Thaishi.” You just say weakly.

You cannot resume your combat, you cannot fight your husband even if you know you’re in the right, you cannot say goodbye to your children and leave them alone.

“I am not leaving you on this backwater planet, love.” He warns, “We discussed this subject matter and agreed. Thaishi and the baby will be sent to the Ascendancy and live a safe life while we will go back to our responsibilities.”

“How can you say that?” You feel ire rising in your veins.

“We are both warriors. We both know our duties would supplant everything in our life.”

“Thrawn…” You beg.

He caresses your cheek and his thumb swipe one silent tear that rolls on your skin, you sob.

“Those four years have been a blessing. The miracle I stopped hoping for.” He presses his forehead against yours, looking you in the eyes with a sigh, “But the dream must end. It is time now to wake up and advance.”

“Thrawn…” Your voice is no more than a pathetic plea.

“I know, Cha’cah. I will never stop loving you and will cherish those memories I have with you both. But it is time…”

He extends his hand to you with a comforting smile while your image of him gets blurry with tears.

“Come home with me, my love?”

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037

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[applebinnie]

▶︎ˏˋ aye-aye, captain! >< ´ˎ˗

𖦹 part I ! 𖦹

ᯤ fishing boat operator!leehan ᯤ

→ Your neighbors back in your family province owned a really cool fishing boat. The sweet couple taught you how to use it so you could help with fishing duties during the summer. However you stumble upon the said boat, which is now (unfortunately) under the management of their oddball of a son. 

warnings: none! except for the fact that I'm vv mid at writing and it's my first time writing in eng so please reduce your expectations to ground level 😭

💭: I'm still experimenting with the whole y/n thingy, and I was thinking, should I name mc yuu or should I just keep it at y/n? lmk!

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

You woke up at the crack of dawn to get dressed and ready. It's the summer, and that means you'll be staying at the province! You looked forward to everything the place has to offer, from the fresh air to the salty fragrance of the beach. But one thing you always look forward to is the nice family next door and their cool fishing boat! You can't recall if you still know how to use it. The captain gave you a crash course on how to operate it last summer, but you weren't really able to give it a go yourself. You decided that the first thing that you wanted to do today was to fish!

You see the captain and his wife smiling upon your arrival. They always treated you like their own daughter, greeting you with a warm pot of your favorite soup and a kiss on the forehead. It was always like that, except now something is missing from the usual greetings. Aside from their dog, Connie, there had always been a third figure peeking from behind Mr. Captain, waiting for the right time to jump and chase you around the front porch.

Leehan, the couple's only son wasn't around to welcome you, which was odd, considering that he was always the first one to approach and show you his new fishes or brag about their cool boat. He always trailed closely behind Mr. Captain, carrying his adorable little Connie. You always thought he was a little weird, but that doesn't mean he isn't the sweetest boy you've met.

"I haven't seen him since this morning! that boy ran out the door as soon as he finished eating, I don't even know anymore," Mr. Captain sighed. You finished eating and went out to look for Leehan.

"Han?" you called out. You went out to the sand, but you couldn't find him anywhere! You then saw Riwoo, the kid who always carried around a camera and small packets of bird food to feed the gulls.

"Riwoo!" You waved at him. He wore a beach hat with a wide rim, covered in sand and seaweeds.

"Yuu!" He waved back. Usually, when Riwoo is around, a few steps behind him is Woonhak. You didn't even need to make an effort to see Woonhak, who was clearly behind the mango tree. No wonder he always lost during hide and seek games, because he thought that if he can't see you, then you can't see him either, and the constant peeking and giggling gave him away.

"Boo!" You tapped at Hak's shoulder. He scrambled to hide his phone, sliding it in the pockets of his shorts. "Hey Y/n, didn't see you there, ha...ha." He chuckled nervously. You were starting to think that he was hiding something. You looked behind him.

"Are you okay? Are you looking for something?"

"Nothing, thought you were hiding an insect of any kind to shove to my face. "

Woonhak laughed at your response. But it was true, he was indeed thinking of scaring you with a fake plastic lizard.

Still no sign of Leehan. You figured that he's probably with Taesan at their favourite usual spot: the docks.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

💭: "But val, you're a riize blog!" I had a little too much fun making this I had to restrain myself so I cld finish the other fics during the VERY little free time that I have 😭 also, I had no idea that it was saturday today I legitimately thought it was friday ?!?! anyways I hope you guys like it RAGHRAGHRAGH - val 🧸

[dumbslxtclub]

you’re on your own, kid | e.m - part eight

eddie munson x singlemom!reader

summary: set after the events of season four, Steve has disappeared and is presumed dead in the upside down. broken and now left to deal with your pregnancy alone, Eddie takes it upon himself to support you to the best of his abilities in Steve’s absence.

chapter summary: a new baby in the house, a friday night date and your best friend playing babysitter. what could go wrong?

content warnings: fem!reader, adult language, adult themes, unplanned pregnancy, angst, hurt/comfort, some canon divergence/au, mentions of death, reader is 19, anxiety, angst, fluff, no use of y/n, slow burn, not beta’d

word count: 9.3K+

a/n: did I get a bit too caught up in writing this chapter? absolutely. time for eddie to enter his dad era. would love to commit to a regular upload schedule but knowing me as a person that will be hard. love you all sm though xx

taglist: @lezzy-bennet @harrypotteranna23-blog  @reidstea @sashaphantomhive  @bexreadstoomuch​ @audhd-dragonaut​ @littlepotatobeansworld @ches-86​

↳  one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight  / nine / ten / eleven

Part Eight: Mother’s Daughter

The first few weeks with a new baby in the house are bliss. Crying-filled, sleep-deprived bliss, and any feelings of readiness are slowly dissipating. The routine is clear. Feeding, changing diapers, laying her to sleep for a bit, and repeat. Sounds simple, right? Wrong. Dead wrong.

Despite having read What to Expect When You’re Expecting, it seems that Audrey doesn’t particularly enjoy playing by the book. Take tonight, for example. You’ve tried everything to get her to stop crying, you can’t believe her small lungs haven’t gone hoarse from the hours she’s spent exhausting them. Wandering around the dimly-lit living room like a horse stuck on an infinite carousel loop, you’re quietly beginning to stress all the while rocking and shushing Audrey in your arms. The ringing in your ears is relentless, and you’re just doing your best not to join her crying as you mentally curse your parenting skills in frustration.  As the clock reads 9:37pm, you know your neighbors will be preparing for bed, laying out their clothes for their early morning shifts and expecting a quiet night. Something they won’t be granted if you can’t get your baby under control.

“C’mon, what do you need?” You whisper in her ear, knowing perfectly well she won’t be able to hear you over the piercing noise she’s emitting. Her diaper is freshly changed, she’s just had a feed and you’re beginning to worry something might be wrong with her. Oh god, what if something’s wrong with her? She’s like a smoke alarm, but you can’t tell if you burnt the toast or if the whole house is on fire. Lips pressed to her head, you try to decipher if she’s got a fever, bouncing her up and down as she continues wailing. “It’s okay, honey, it’s-“

A sharp knock rings out on the wooden front door, causing your heart to race. The chances of the person on the other side being a disgruntled neighbor ready to lecture your parenting skills were high, but what other choice did you have? Sighing, you bounce your way to the door, swinging it open to reveal Eddie, still in his work clothes and holding a plastic bag, steam clinging to the sides. A wash of relief crashes over you, his expression warm as he sees the two of you.

“Oh thank god, I thought someone was here to bite my head off.” Supporting Audrey on your shoulder with one arm, you use your free one to wrap around Eddie’s waist, leaving him to pull you in the rest of the way.

“Nah, I’m not here to go full-Ozzy on you.” He keeps you tucked in a cozy embrace, evidently not bothered by the screaming alarm right next to his ear. “How’s the little hellraiser?”

“Raising hell.” Closing the door behind him, you continue to pace around the room as Eddie pulls off his jacket and sets the bag down on the bench. “She’s been like this for hours, I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried everything.” 

Gently cupping her back, you continue patting it lightly the same way you’ve been doing all evening. What do they say about the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results…

“Well, how about-” Hands diving into the plastic bag, he pulls out two noodle boxes, the smell of teriyaki sauce filling your senses and reminding you how long it’s been since you’ve eaten something substantial. “-I take over for a bit, and you have something to eat?”

Arms outstretched and looking at you expectantly, it doesn’t take much convincing before you pass your screaming bundle of joy his way. His eyes light up as he takes her in, feet scrunched to her torso as she’s passed to him. Eddie, as it turns out, is a natural at holding babies. Once he got over his own self doubt and fear of dropping her, he’s now very comfortable with Audrey in his arms. He mirrors the position you previously had her in, tucking her head into his shoulder, facing inwards so he can keep an eye on her. Broad hands support her tiny shrieking body, gently patting her back while you busy yourself ripping into one of the boxes.

“Hey, Squid, long day, hey?” You shoot him a disapproving look, shoveling sauce-covered noodles and vegetables into your mouth at the kitchen counter. 

“She’s got a real name now.” You point your chopsticks at him like a weapon, and he grins proudly at the mere fact he’s gotten a rise out of you so early into his arrival.

“Yeah, but Squid is so original!” 

As he continues to pace, a soft stream of ‘shhh’s’ leave his lips, close to Audrey’s ear. His thumb finds the back of her head, rubbing the peach fuzz gently all the while keeping his eyes on her for any noticeable reaction. And, as luck would have it, the room becomes quieter, sporadic cries now weaning off. You feel a mixture of relief and frustration, how does he do it so easily? He looks around the room, ears perked up. 

“Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Silence.” He proclaims smugly, having used his magic touch to turn cries into coos, Audrey now happily squirming in Eddie’s arms.

“Show off.” Picking up the box, which you’ve half polished off already, you cross the room to plant yourself on the couch for the first time in hours. The sagging cushions embrace your tired limbs, forfeiting your weight to the support beneath you while you poke around looking for a piece of chicken amongst the sea of noodles. “You wanna know a secret?”

“What’s that?”

“I think it’s your smell.” He looks at you, utterly perplexed by your insinuation. Not wanting to offend him, you’re quick to clarify. “No, not in a bad way! It’s just- when she was in my belly she would go crazy every time you were around. It’s like she could sense you, in a weird way I think she’s always recognised you.”

“Stop, you’ll give me a big head.” He glances down at your daughter, whose eyelids are now growing heavy, clearly exhausted from all the crying, haven’t we all been there before? “And that’s your job, isn’t it Squid?”

If he wasn’t holding an infant, you’d give him a good whack right about now for yet another unwarranted comment about your daughter’s very normal head size. But he’s not above using Audrey as a human shield, the absolute savage. As you dig into your meal, you can’t help but take in the sight illuminated by your dim lighting. There must be something in our biology that causes our hearts to swell at the sight of a man holding a baby. The sheer juxtaposition of their appearances is comical, Audrey in her purple flower-covered onesie, her small feet tucked into the footie pajamas, and Eddie, all hard-exterior in his work overalls and combat boots, pacing the room holding her. They’re chalk and cheese, and somehow, the best of friends already. And it’s, dare you say, kind of attractive? A small smile creeps over your face at the thought, and Eddie is quick to notice your not so subtle gawking.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, really. Did she spit up on me?” He peers down at his shirt, looking for any milky traces of drool. You shake your head, looking back down at your meal, loosening some broccoli stuck to the bottom..

“No-no, it’s not that. It’s just- you look cute like this.” You feel yourself blushing at your own compliment, immediately cringing over the words that came out of your mouth. What a weird thing to say. Eddie struggles to suppress his happiness over your comment, contorting his lips into a grateful smile while carefully treading over to the bassinet to lay down a yawning Audrey.

“Well, I’ve heard cuteness is contagious. Like herpes.” He readjusts Audrey’s onesie once she’s comfortable, before turning back to you.

“Gross.” Way to kill the moment, Eddie. He grabs his own box from the bench along with his chopsticks, planting himself down on the plush couch beside you. He’s sitting about as close as he usually is, knees almost touching yours but the air between you feels thicker. He’s always throwing thoughtless compliments your way, but rarely is he on the receiving end. Did you just make things super awkward? Time to change the subject.  “Appreciate you bringing dinner over, the fridge is tragically bare at the moment and I was just going to settle for some tinned Spaghetti-O’s.”

“Very gourmet. Back to the old junk now you’re not eating for two?” He says through a mouthful of noodles. “If you want, I could take you into town tomorrow? Get you stocked up, show Squid all the exciting sights Hawkins has to offer. The post office, the big maple tree in the park, maybe even a dog or two. Y’know, the works.”

Biting down on a snow pea, you contemplate his offer, nerves brewing in your belly. You’re fully aware that the whole town knows about your pregnancy, undoubtedly sharing whispers about whose baby it is behind your back. But the thought of actually venturing out into the world with her? That scares the shit out of you. But, you know it’s only a matter of time before that Band-Aid has to be ripped off.

“Yeah, alright.” Fuck.

“Put those down.” Robin snatches the store-brand Cheerios out of your hands, placing them back on the shelf in favor of the name brand. “We’re getting you the good stuff.”

Strapped to her chest in a newborn baby carrier, Audrey sleeps blissfully tucked against Robin’s plaid shirt. The stroller seemed like too much of a hassle for a quick trip, and Robin proclaimed she needed some “skin-to-skin bonding time” with her. You trudge along behind her, pushing a shopping cart that is being stuffed with all sorts of fresh fruit, vegetables and pantry items. As she compares two bottles of long-life milk, Eddie returns around the corner with a large bundle of diapers, dumping them into the rapidly-filling cart. 

“God, how many of these things does she go through a day?” He furrows his brows together, studying the packet of soft tissue.

“Usually between 10-12.” Robin replies without missing a beat, glancing down at her shopping list made after a thorough inventory of your pantry. Eddie’s eyes widen at her response, clearly thinking he was stocking up with the bulk packet. He turns to Audrey, and places a hand gently on her back as he leans in to her.

“How does someone so small cause so much mess?” He whispers in her ear, loud enough for you to hear, Robin is quick to swat his arm and shield the infant from his words before turning his attention to the diapers.

“Eddie! These aren't newborn sizes.” She pulls the packet back out and throws it at Eddie’s chest, who looks down befuddled.

“Is there a difference?”

“Uh, yeah. Unless you were buying these for yourself?” Her remark causes you to snort, Eddie scrunching up his nose in your direction. 

“Ha ha, very funny. Show me which ones I was supposed to get, your highness.” He flourishes his hand down the aisle in an ‘after you’ motion, Robin rolling her eyes as she marches down with Eddie trailing behind. Looking back to you, he brings his pointer finger up to his temple, thumb facing skyward with his other three digits tucked to his fist. He pulls the trigger on his hand gun, and mimics brains blowing out on the other side with a dramatic stumble into the adjacent Coco-Puffs. Ever the showman.

As your friends disappear around the corner, you glance around the brightly coloured logos decorating tinned goods, perfectly stacked up on the metal shelves. Wheels clicking along the tiled floor, the tragic supermarket music playing over dying speakers throughout the store. Leaning on the cart with your forearms resting on the handle, you meander through the aisle to the freezer section at the end. As your cart passes the threshold of the shelves, a figure emerges and bumps straight into your cart. Oh good, first day out and you’re already making a scene and accidentally assaulting a stranger. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” You apologize, looking at the person standing in front of you who just bore the brunt of your cart crashing into his thigh. Studying his face, you can’t help but think he looks familiar. A thin layer of stubble now growing across his jawline, light brown curls sitting underneath a baseball cap. He returns a similar look of recognition, uttering your name to clarify that you were, in fact, you.

“Oh hey! ‘Ts Andy? We had Chemistry together junior year?” The penny drops in your brain, your mouth contorting into a well-mannered, pleasant smile as you begin to place him. “I nearly set your hair on fire with a Bunsen burner?”

“Oh yeah, hi!” You reply, shaking your head. “Sorry, it’s been a while.” 

“Yeah, it sure has.” He readjusts the small basket in his hand, filled with some sort of jerky and a six-pack. He gives you a once-over, studying you from head to toe in your old jeans and tank top. “How’ve you been? You look well.”

You silently thank yourself for putting in a bit of effort today, patting on enough concealer to hide the fact that you were up feeding Audrey for most of the night and brushing your hair for the first time in a week.

“Yeah fine. Y’know, just busy.” Busy pushing out a human. “What about you?”

“Back in town visiting the folks, killing time before heading back to college. Got into Purdue on a basketball scholarship, actually.”

“Wow, congratulations!” You shoot him a genuine smile, it’s always nice to hear when someone gets out of Hawkins to pursue bigger and better things.

“Yeah, it’s been great. Haven’t seen the boys in a while, so we’re getting together at Benny’s tonight for a catch-up.” He holds his basket up to punctuate, the cans of Bud Light bouncing light from the flickering fluorescent above.

“Benny’s. Shit, I haven’t been there since-“ You bite your tongue at the evocation, cheeks flushing as you recall your high school antics. Too embarrassed to speak the words into existence, Andy has no problem verbalizing the memory.

“Since you got up on the bar after homecoming and did a full Flashdance number for everyone?” He says with a laugh, your eyes squeezing shut as you cringe.

“Yep, that sounds about right.” The two of you walk parallel past tubs of ice cream sitting in freezer cases, a self-deprecating laugh leaving your lips. “But, in my defense, no one told me that the jello shots were alcoholic!”

Andy shakes his head and chuckles, setting off a few paces in front of you. “You had some killer moves, though.”

“Yeah, well it’s been a while since I busted them out.”

“Haven’t had any jello shots recently, I’m guessing?”

“Exactly.”

There’s a beat as he swings open one of the freezer doors, grabbing a bag of ice out, holding it in his free hand before facing you directly.

“Well, uh- maybe if you’ve got time this weekend we could hit up The Hideout or something? Defrost those Jennifer Beal dance moves, grab a few drinks if you want?”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat, surely he’s not asking you what you think he’s asking? Averting your gaze to the tiled white flooring, you’re suddenly interested in the dirt and dried spills sitting in the ancient grout.

“You mean, like, on a date?”

“Well, yeah. Unless you-“ The sentence is only partially formed in his mouth before a deep, familiar voice calls out behind you. 

“Right, hopefully these will last her until tomorrow-“ Spinning around, you clock Eddie, who is now holding the mega-sized pack of newborn diapers under his arm. His band tee logo is now obscured by the black sling across his chest, a ringed hand cradling the back of it. As it appears, Robin has been relieved of baby duties and passed them onto Eddie, Audrey still dead asleep tucked up to his chest, rosy cheeks flushed, pressed to his torso. A small patch of drool is forming on his white shirt, and to complete the look, he’s attached a spare pacifier to his wallet chain hanging off his jeans.

Andy is quick to give him a one-over, not dissimilar to the one he gave you, but this time clearly charged with an air of disdain.

“Munson.” Words like venom leaving his lips. 

Eddie, an expert in navigating his own reputation, pokes his tongue against the sinew of his cheek expectantly. Let them get their hits in, and fuck off. Recognising he’s not about to get a rise out of the metalhead, Andy simply scoffs before turning his attention back to you, rummaging for something in his pocket. He hands you a business card of sorts, something he had made to palm off to scouts at games, complete with his contact details on it.

“See you around.” His words are hushed between the two of you, excluding the third man from the interaction. Heat rises in your cheeks as he shoots you a smirk before heading off, not returning another glance at Eddie. You discreetly pocket the card before returning to the unlikely duo back from their diaper quest.

“What was that about?” Eddie half-chuckles, gaze following the aisle in which Andy disappeared down. You shake your head.

“Nothing. Where’s Robin?” Extending a hand to the peach fuzz growing atop your daughter’s head, smoothing it down and relishing in the sensation of her soft skin against your clammy hands. 

“Oh, uh- she saw an old friend out the front.” White lies being exchanged with the clearing of his throat, each of you oblivious to one another’s predicament. “C’mon, she’s starting to stink and I don’t want people thinking it’s me.”

“A dirty diaper could only help your stench at this point, honestly.” The banter flows effortlessly from your lips.

“I hate you.”

Eddie didn’t get the memo that this Friday wouldn’t be a regularly-scheduled movie night, his arrival somewhat jarring as Robin prepped and preened you within an inch of your life. Plucking stray hairs from your brow, hot rollers stinging your scalp while she used you as her own life-sized Barbie, ready for her date with Ken. The knock at the door occurred just as you swiped on a layer of lip gloss, Robin rushing out of the bathroom to welcome your visitor. Their conversation is cut short as you exit your tiny bathroom, giving them a flourishing twirl relishing in your final form.

“How do I look?” Almost imperceptible and unnoticed by you, the tendon in Eddie’s jaw clenches under the weight of his emotions. The physical manifestation of the ugliest feeling, a jealousy he couldn’t admit to himself yet. Here you were, standing in a black Stevie Nicks-esque dress complete with platform boots, like the perfect woman in every music video flashed across the late-night MTV runs. Dark circles now perfectly concealed below your eyes, accentuated by a smokey-brown eyeshadow. Lips previously chewed raw from stress now glossy and plump. Hair in bouncy curls, Farrah-Fawcett style, a far cry from the matted bun you typically sport. You looked beautiful. But then again, you always did. Whether it was stained tracksuit pants or Robin’s curated outfit designed just for tonight, it was all you to Eddie. Not necessarily better, just different.

“You going somewhere?” He asks, taking in the image of you before him in the glow of your living room lamp. Not the glowing endorsement you were hoping for, but Robin’s elated grin gives you the confidence boost you crave.

“She’s got herself a hot date tonight.” Robin squeals in Eddie’s ear, giving his shoulders a tight squeeze as she drinks you in. The pair stand there like two parents sending their daughter off to prom, complete with a quietly disapproving father beside the front door. And you, giddy like a lovelorn teenager with a fresh corsage around your wrist, swipe up your purse and head for the crib. Audrey, who is freshly fed, bathed and changed, looks up at her mom as you give her a sticky kiss on her forehead, immediately swiping away the glossy residue left on her supple skin.

“I won’t be out long, I’m just going for one drink.” 

“Heard that one before.” Eddie mumbles under his breath, heard only by Robin who shoots him a warning glare while you find your keys.

You give your handbag a once over. Keys? Check. Lipgloss? Check. Spare diaper? Che- nope, don’t need that one tonight. Pull it out and chuck it on the crowded excuse for a dining table. Check your watch. Time to go.

“See you guys soon! Eddie, you’re welcome to stay and keep Robin company.” You give the pair of them a hug. Something firm is pressed against your torso, seemingly located in Eddie’s pocket. “Dude, do you have a horror film in your pocket or are you just excited to see me?”

Eddie’s cheeks flush as his lips purse together in a smile, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a VHS copy of The Fly. Flashing it between his thumb and forefinger, you can’t help but roll your eyes at how predictable he is. 

“You’re not putting that on until Audrey is asleep. I don’t want her scarred for life before she can even crawl.”

“Yeah, yeah. No flies for Squid tonight.”

Hand on the door, Eddie shoots you his most ‘butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth’ smile. Son of a bitch.

“Robin, keep them out of trouble.” Door swinging closed behind you, the three musketeers bask in the glow of your freshly sprayed perfume, the kind you only put on for special occasions. Eddie dropped his facade as soon as he sees you climbing into your car, shooting daggers in Robin’s direction for whatever part she had to play in this whole situation. It was going to be a long night.

Look, Andy was fine. I mean, he opened the door for you, and he showed up. What more could a fresh young mother on her first date in nearly a year ask for? Safe to say, the bar is low. But if Andy is as good at basketball as he is at rambling on about himself, he’d give Magic Johnson a run for his money. In any other case, this would bother you, your last previous romantic experience was much more evenly distributed conversationally. Armed with only the topic of your baby daddy’s death and recently relieved case of mastitis to disclose, you allow his drabble to flow freely. The Hideout plan ended up being a bust, something about the music “not being to Andy’s taste”, resulting in plan B; the pair of you sitting on sticky laminated booth seats in a small diner just outside of town. He ordered a well-done steak with all the fixings, and, before you could decide between the double cheeseburger with bacon or the chicken burger, a salad was ordered on your behalf. Slightly soggy lettuce pieces are pushed around with your fork, digging for any croutons that have absorbed the light dressing at the bottom of the plate. He seamlessly transitions from stories about college, to his basketball team, to the parties at his frat and then, as a special treat, a story about how his buddies on the basketball team got too wasted at a frat party and ran naked through the college campus. As you wipe your mouth clean with your napkin, having polished off your salad and trying your best to avoid your hungry gaze landing on the dessert cabinet, it strikes him that he hasn’t asked you a question the whole evening. And boy, what a question he chooses to ask.

“So, ‘ve gotta ask. What were you doing with Munson at the supermarket? Never pegged you two to be the type to run in the same circle.” 

Swallowing your food like a dry pill, it claws down your throat while you feel the sudden heat of judgment. Eddie’s reputation was no secret to you, yet you were one of the few to see past the bullshit propaganda spun about him. But with not much else to talk about, you decide to engage, hoping to shut down the conversation quickly.

“Oh, Eddie? He’s a friend, he lives across from me, actually.” Your words are meek and Andy scoffs, the two brain cells floating around in his skull colliding and recognizing that, you too, must also live in the trailer park. 

“Right. So you guys hang out then?”

“Uh, yeah. Sometimes. Y’know, he helps me out…”

“... and you do the same for him, I’m guessing?” He reaches for his nearly empty beer and knocks back a mouthful. “Can imagine he needs all the help he can get now, what with an extra mouth to feed and all. Hope you’re not throwing a single dollar his way.”

Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. He thinks Audrey is Eddie’s kid. Clearly, with him being out of town, gossip around your pregnancy hadn’t spread to the Purdue fraternities.

You’re suddenly incredibly interested in a sliver of cherry tomato slipping around the plate. “No, no. I mean, he's got a job and all, so-”

“Selling drugs isn’t a real job, doll.”

“No, he works-” It crosses your mind that it’s best not to reveal Eddie’s actual workplace location to this man, god knows a fair few of the townsfolk still have it out for him. “-he’s just not selling shit anymore.”

“Yeah? Well shit, ‘ve gotta say, I didn’t think he had it in him. ‘Course a guy like him, going and stupidly knocking some girl up doesn’t surprise me. But Munson? The fact he convinced someone to fuck him is unbelievable.” His words are callous and subconsciously cruel all the while uttered with a laugh, the kind of locker room talk that he’s grown so accustomed to that he doesn’t recognise how jarring it can be to hear spoken so casually.

The sheer notion incensed you, nails digging into your palm beneath the table, the only outlet for your growing rage. Baffled by how he looked down continuously on ‘The Freak’, upholding high-school preconceptions and refusing to accept the real world evolving around him. Completely delusional to the fact that people grow and change. The sneer in his voice as he simultaneously belittled and ridiculed Eddie, not knowing that he was far more of a man than he could ever hope to be, infuriated you. 

The man who, for the first week after the birth, would wait diligently through the early mornings for your bedside lamp to go on, simply so he could race over to assist you on your short trip to the bathroom as your stitches healed, waddling helplessly in your port-partum underwear. Who would volunteer to take your spit-up covered laundry to the laundromat, purely so you wouldn’t have to wake a resting Audrey and grant you another hour of peace and quiet. Who looked at your daughter with such love and softness, despite no biological obligations to her, going through the motions of learning how to change a diaper just in case he needs to. It boils your blood. How fucking dare he pass such unfair judgement on Eddie? Your rage feels primal in nature, coursing through your veins like a hit of morphine. An overwhelming sense of protectiveness takes over, and you allow the words you’d like to say tip-toe across your tongue before returning to the deepest recesses of your mind. But, as with everything in womanhood, you know not to react with anger. Oh no. You need to make this easier for him to hear than it is for you to experience. 

“It’s not his.” Your voice comes out as barely a whisper, attempting to suppress the bubble threatening to burst.

“What?” Andy obnoxiously chews his well-done steak, on full display and half-masticated in his mouth. Your eyes meet his, taking in a short breath as if the added oxygen will dissolve your nerves.

“I said it’s not his.” You celebrate your words coming out a bit clearer this time, more firm.

“Then whose is it?”

“She’s mine.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. Andy quirks his brow at you, never ceasing his chomping on the char-grilled hunk of meat.

“What?”

“Her name’s Audrey, and she’s- she’s my daughter.” Any remnants of confidence you’d built up were slowly disintegrating under his judgemental watch. The tip of his tongue meets one of his canines, mouth contorting into a wicked smile. His eyes trace over you, much like in the supermarket, yet you sense that any traces of affection have all but vanished.

“Right.” He runs a hand over his jawline, the nail on his thumb digging into the crevice between two of his teeth to retrieve some steak lodges between. “And who’s the dad?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You reply plainly, very much not wanting to go into the details of Steve.

“Oh, so you don’t know?” His eyes widen slightly, tone growing increasingly more mocking.

“No! Of course I know, it’s just-”

“What? Let me guess, he did the smart thing and left? Didn’t want to be tied down pouring all his salary into child support to some trailer trash? Shit, it’s girls like you who ruin guys' lives.”

Mouth agape, you couldn’t throw an insult back if you tried. You feel yourself shutting down, growing small under his harsh gaze and demeaning words. Tiny and worthless in that moment. A rush of adrenaline hits you, fight or flight triggered. You have nothing more to say to this person from your past, feeling stupid for even bringing him into your life now. Tossing your napkin to the table, metal utensils clanging as you swing your legs out from the booth and grab your handbag. Without looking back, you make a beeline for the door, teeth grinding together as you hear his voice ring out behind you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll grab the bill! Not like you could afford it, anyway.”

The door slams so hard you swear you heard the bell fall off its hinges.

The drive home is silent. Something you would normally welcome under any other circumstances. The road is devoid of cars besides the occasional late-night commuter, the radio switched off completely with not even the static-y crackle to drown out your thoughts. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, stinging with the anger still coursing through your blood vessels. God, how could you have been so fucking stupid? 

The living room light peeks through the slit of the curtains of the trailer you call home. Insecurity lingers in the pit of your stomach, you wonder if you could fit the whole place into Andy’s pool house (you probably could, knowing the neighborhood he lives in). The keys click and jingle as you turn the rickety doorknob, crossing the threshold into your kitchen/living/dining room. A studio audience laughs through the speakers of your second-hand TV, the figure on the couch reaching for the remote to lower the volume at your arrival.

“Hey.” In the light of the sole lamp, you make out Eddie fully reclined on the couch, placing the remote beside his head as his free hand caresses the lump on his chest. Audrey, heavy-lidded and limbs sprawled out, lays atop his torso as careful fingers trace up and down her exposed back. Her chunky legs were now on display, all creases and rolls like the cutest little Michelin man. You feel a sense of relief wash over you, taking in the sight of the thing you loved most in this world while you throw your handbag somewhere to the side.

“Hi.” You reach out to relieve him of the human weight from his body, lifting her up and tucking her into the crook of your shoulder. You just need to hold her right now. Feel the weight of her tiny body in your arms. Tilting the bridge of your nose to her unkempt crown of hair, you are shameless in your deep inhale of her scent. It washes over you with the force of a tidal wave, engulfing you in the sense of security you so desperately craved right now. Her bare skin pressed to yours. This is it. This is your home.

Eddie hoists himself up, flattening out his mess of hair from laying down for who knows how long. The only indicator of time being the cut to commercial breaks on the TV in the distance as he watched Squid’s eyes grow heavy with each passing jingle. He reaches for his boots at the base of the couch, undoing the laces to slip them on.

“Sorry, she, uh- had a little accident in her onesie and so I changed her. Then she got all fussy about putting on a new one, kept trying to kick me away. No tears or tantrums though, so I just brought her in here to hang out for a bit and we lost track of time-” His rambling words trail off, taking notice of the steady stream of tears cascading silently down your cheeks leaving a black streak of eyeshadow behind. “Woah, hey…”

His mode of comforting was beyond words these days, now deciphering your body language while you tucked your head to your daughters in an attempt to conceal yourself. Wordlessly, he discarded his boots and stood up, embracing the pair of you tight to his chest. He knows that you’ll talk about it if you want to, and if not, he’s there to hold you while you let it all out. The tears continue to flow, ringed fingers running through your hair and caressing your scalp. Tucking your head into the crook of his shoulder, effectively creating an Audrey sandwich, you allow yourself to be held. You will for the tears to stop, for the lingering frustration to evaporate. But you know you need to lean into it, release it from your subconscious through the bile burning in your throat and hiccuping sobs resonating throughout your chest. You’re sick of running from the pain, it’s time to embrace it and fuck it right off. Eventually, your tears run dry. All the while Eddie continues to hold you, waiting patiently. As your breathing steadily returns to normal, he pulls away to study your face.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

He takes Audrey, all squish and skin in just her fresh diaper, from your arms.

“You go take a shower, I’ll get her ready for bed. Okay?”

You simply nod, grateful for the help, before wiping your wet cheeks and turning in the direction of the bathroom.

Hours of wasted effort are washed away in a matter of minutes under the low water pressure of your shitty shower. Black mascara and eyeshadow streaks down your flushed cheeks, the stream of water from the shower head soaking your fried hair. Nothing but the sound of water splashing against the grimy tiled floor, the soft thrum of liquid streaming through the pipes in the wall. Peace and quiet. Solitude.

“So stupid.”

Wrapping yourself up in an old towel, you see a familiar reflection in the mirror. Stretch marks fading across the small swell of your stomach, purple hues in your tear troughs against your skin, complexion dull and sullen. Back to your old self. The bedside lamp is already illuminated when you enter your bedroom. Clothes scattered across the floor, some clean, but most dirty. The door has been closed for your privacy, so you pull on some sweatpants and an oversized shirt that likely belonged to Steve. It’s been so long, you can’t remember whose it was now. If it was his, any traces of his scent have long since vanished. Once a treasured possession given as an act of love, now another cotton shirt in a sea of insignificance. Droplets from your damp hair create patches on the canary yellow shirt on your shoulders. 

Swinging open the door, you see Eddie swaddling Audrey, freshly dressed in her pajamas having decided not to put up a fight while mom’s around. He’s laying her down in the crib carefully, sucking away on a pacifier. This is the longest she’s gone without fussing or crying in a week, and so you simply stand at the doorway and watch him. He takes no notice of you watching him while leaning against the frame silently. He readjusts her swaddle, making sure she’s comfortable. Smoothing down her crown of soft hair on her head, a smile grows, dimples on full display as her eyes grow heavy and she settles. And, in a quiet moment between the pair, you watch as he leans down into the crib, placing his lips to the space between her eyebrows to give her a goodnight kiss. Your heart swells at the sight, warmth radiating through your body as you bear witness to this moment of affection. You must have let out an exhaling chuckle an iota too loud, Eddie quickly glancing in your direction sheepishly.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it. She’s so cute when she’s not screaming or shitting everywhere.”

“Well, she’s only human.” You retort, earning a smile from him. He taps the side of her crib, stealing one last look at her. “Where did Robin pop off to?”

“Oh, she uh- had to head into the store. Something about Keith being locked out of the computer. She probably did it on purpose to fuck with him.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Yep, sounds about right.”

There’s a slightly awkward beat as Eddie retreats from the crib, picking his keys up off the coffee table. “You need anything else before I go?”

“Maybe some ketamine?” Eddie’s eyes widen at your joke, delivered too deadpan for him to catch your sarcasm. “That helps you sleep, right?”

“Or I could just give you some acid and watch you stare at Squid for a few hours? Turning into an actual octopus and then back to a baby, I’ll even try to get her crying as a real treat for you.”

The two of you are now full-blown laughing now, the air light between you. 

“We’ll save that for another night, I reckon.”

“Good call.”

Strolling over to you, he wraps his leather-clad arms around you, tucking you tight to his chest. You’re consumed by his musky scent, familiar and warm to the two girls in the room. Extending your arms, you lock your hands around his waist, scratching your nails absent-mindedly along the cotton shirt.

“Thank you for everything.” You mumble into the thrum of his heartbeat.

“It’s nothing.” He pulls away to get a glimpse of your face, gently taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger to tilt your gaze up to meet his. “You’re doing so well. Don’t forget that.”

Despite being all cried out, you feel the telltale prickle of tears stinging the inner corners of your eyes as you nod. And, just like he did with Audrey, he leans down to press his plump lips to your forehead, leaving a quick peck on your skin. 

“See you tomorrow.” He gives your shoulder a firm squeeze before turning on his heel towards the front door. You shiver at the loss of contact, wrapping your arms around yourself to simulate the experience of being held. Chewing on your bottom lip, you fight a mental battle with yourself in a nanosecond, glancing down at the crib where Audrey has succumbed to sleep. “Eddie?” You call out, resulting in him stopping in his tracks, hand still on the door handle.

“Mmm?”

“Um, this is a bit weird to ask. But, uh- if you, would you mind maybe staying here tonight? You don’t have to, but um- you’re good with Audrey and I might get an extra hour's sleep if you were here to check on her through the night. Like, I’ll get up to feed her, but she can just get fussy and maybe if you were here she-”

Eddie had heard enough, silencing your ramble with a nod of his head, eyes closed as he smiles humbly.

“‘Course.” Relief hits you, picking at your nails to disperse any remaining nervous energy. “I’ll just run home and grab some pillows and a blanket for the couch, alright?”

“Oh, the couch sucks. I’ve crashed on it many nights and you’ll wake up feeling like shit. If you’re okay with it-” Oh my god, are you really about to say this? “-You’re welcome to just share my bed?”

Eddie freezes, contemplating the offer. “And you’d be okay with that?”

“Yeah, I mean, I share the bed with Robin all the time. And I’m sure you snore quieter than she does.”

Gaze down at his shoes scuffing the floor, his tongue pokes into the corner of his mouth. “What about pajamas? I mean, I’ve got stuff at mine I can get…”

“Eddie, in case you forgot I was pregnant with a whole-ass human for nine months. I’m sure I’ve got clothes that will fit you.”

He simply hums in agreement, releasing the door knob from his grasp and meandering to the center of the room.

“Yeah, okay.” He shoots you a warm smile. “Mind if I grab a shower first? Someone’s in a fresh diaper and it’s not me.”

You roll your eyes while he chuckles, making his way past you with a scruff of your hair. “Dude, so gross…”

You should have washed your sheets. You should have tidied up the mountain of clothes sitting in the corner, or at the very least picked up the straggling items strewn across the stained carpet. You should have decluttered your bedside table, decorated with balms, half-empty plastic bottles and the odd candy wrapper. But then again, you weren’t expecting a guest in your bedroom tonight.

The window above your bed is cracked open, allowing a fresh breeze to enter, eliminating any potential stuffiness. The cotton sheets are soft against your skin, two pillows now absorbing the remnants of water seeping from your damp hair. The rattling of pipes above your head ceases as the water supply is cut off, the sliding door of the shower opens in the ensuite. Moments later, the door swings open, and Eddie re-enters your room. His scraggly hair now roughly towel dried, ringlets forming at the ends while a crown of frizz haloed. Towel in hand, the bats adorning his forearm take flight as he scruffs his hair once more, peeks of pale skin now coming into your view. The waistband of his borrowed sweatpants hang low on his waist, hip bones barely peeking out over the black material. From the dark fabric, lines of ink bloom and flow across the expanse of skin, an indication of tattoos you did not know about. 

“You got a shirt for me? Or is pants all I’m getting tonight?” His words snap you out of your daydream, before you can wonder where the tattoo ends below his waistband.

As you glance up, the towel is lowered to hip-height. At this moment, you realize that you forgot to give him a shirt to change into. Pale expanses of skin decorated with tattoos, scar tissue of wounds long since healed across his torso. You indicate to your oversized Bowie shirt at the base of the bed, a thrifted find you failed to try on before purchase, rendering it an awkward length dress on your frame. Taking the cover in his hand, he meanders back to the bathroom to hang up the towel. You can’t help but study the grooves across his broad back, the odd scar scattered across the smooth skin like a brushstroke of some obscure painting. 

Precise, yet unintentional. Beautiful.

He emerges moments later, fully dressed, giving you a small twirl. “How do I look?”

“Better than I ever did in those.” You reply as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“Not sure about Bowie, a bit different to my usual taste but we can rectify that later.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Snuggling into the sheets, Eddie smiles as he pulls back the covers. “I’ll take the first shift, alright?”

“Sure.” And with that, you reach over and switch off the bedside lamp. “Night, Eddie.”

“Night.”

Despite the seductive call of rest, sleep does not come easily for the first hour. You’re acutely aware of the body beside you, occupying the same close space once reserved for Steve. It’s alien. Unfamiliar and yet simultaneously comforting. With the constant shuffling of bedsheets beside you, you roll the dice on the odds that Eddie is in the same situation.

Andy’s words continue to ring out through the quiet room, reverberating like an echo. Hitting you like a bullet to the chest over and over again, picking away at the scabs you’ve spent months trying to heal.

“Eddie?” You mumble, still facing away from the metalhead.

“Mmm?” A gravelly voice replies through the darkness.

“You awake?”

“No.” Letting out a huff, you can practically hear his grin as he rolls over to face you. “What’s up?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you think about your little girl in the next room. Peacefully sleeping, tucked up, unaware of the impact she’s had on the world in her short time here.

“Do you, um- do you think I would have ruined Steve’s life?” You allow the gravity of your question to hang in the air, unable to bring yourself to face him. “Like, if he was still here, do you think he would have been able to have the future he wanted even with Audrey and I in the picture?”

“Why would you-“ He shifts, figure towering over you as he cranes to glimpse your face through the light streaming in through the curtains above. “Did Andy say something to you?”

You don’t reply, the lump in your throat a threatening harbinger of tears dancing precariously on the edge of release. That familiar ache of inadequacy returns to the pit of your stomach, causing you to sink under the weight. Picking at a loose thread on the pillow case, you fail to formulate a response. But you don’t need to. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie is seething beside you, heart pumping adrenaline through his veins. He’s contemplating how long it would take to find Andy’s house if he left right now, and what sound his bones would make as they crush into fragments beneath the blow of his knuckles. Your silence is a response in itself, edging his body closer to yours. 

“Hey…” Fingers delicately brush hair off your cheek, and you fight against the urge to retreat from the contact. It’s not that you don’t enjoy the sensation, you do. But in a vulnerable moment like this, your modus operandi is to shrink away and cope with it solo. Instead, you tilt your head to catch a glimpse of Eddie, faintly lit but his reassuring manner is clear as day.

“Sometimes I- I’m glad he’s gone.” Guilt burns in your chest at your admission. “I miss him a lot but fuck, what kind of a life would he have come back to? A kid tying him down, fucking up his future. It’s better this way, y’know?”

“Don’t say that.”

“I just- I wanted so much more for him. He deserved so much more than this-”

“Stop.” His command is clear, firm yet gentle. “Why do you always do that to yourself?”

“Do what?”

“Make out like you’re a burden, because you’re not. You might be the best thing that’s happened to m- all of us, in a long time.”

“‘m sorry.” Tears are now steadily cascading from the corners of your eyes, ticking the edges of your ears. Eddie shifts closer beside you, the warmth of his chest to your side immensely comforting. 

“Listen. Harrington cared about you, a lot more than he led on. And I can tell you for a fact he would have loved Squid more than anything in this world.”

Teeth grinding together, you will the heartache to vanish. It doesn’t. All the whole Eddie continues lightly stroking the loose strands of hair framing your face.

“Yeah?”

“Are you kidding me? You saw him with the kids, he was a natural at wrangling them, loved the idea of having a big brood. If he was here, he’d probably be asking you to pop out another one and the two of you would be in a motorhome heading out west somewhere.” You ache at the thought of a life that will never be. “And with you of all people? Fuck, there’s worse ways for a guy to end up in this world. Some of us would be so lucky.”

“I just- I know how this past year has been for you, and I don’t want you to feel like you need to take all of our shit on top of that. Plus, you being seen in public with me-”

“What, worried people will start making assumptions about us?”

“No! God, I just don’t want to give the people of this town another reason to talk about you behind your back. What with my reputation and all.”

“You’re worried about me?” He chuckles lightly. “Sweetheart, I’m not sure if you’ve heard the rumors about me, but this is better than I could have ever expected after all the shit that went down last year. I mean look at me, getting to spend my night with the cutest girl in town. And you, of course.”

He grins ear to ear at the genuine smile he’s earned from you, however short-lived it may be. With his forefinger, he swipes away the recently shed tear before it can reach your hairline. 

“And Andy? Fuck, a guy like him doesn’t know the first thing about life. Having such an easy ride, he couldn’t do half the shit you have in the last year.”

Mind numb, you simply nod in response. Your tears are now running dry, finding solace in his genuine reassurance. Eyes sore, your gaze lands on the worn neckline of his shirt, shadows casted onto the skin beneath creating valleys out of his collarbones. Without thinking, you reach for the guitar-pick necklace dangling from his neck and rub your finger across the smooth ornament. Back and forth for a moment or two, sniffling as you take the first steps towards composure.

“Thank you, Eddie.” You mumble, peering up at the man before you. Watching the steady motion of his hand running through your hair, his eyes catch yours with pure kindness, patience you’re not accustomed to. 

“You’re the strongest person I know. Please don’t forget that.” His hand traces around the frame of your face, his palm finding solace in the crook of your jawline just below your ear. Subconsciously, you can’t help but lean into the sensation, relishing in the comfort of your face being cupped. Grounding yourself in the heat of his palm against your skin. Understanding that this is what safety feels like. 

Slowly, Eddie lowers his plump lips to your forehead, much like he did earlier. But this time, it isn’t a hasty goodbye. 

It’s measured. Calculated. And, unbeknownst to you, very brave. 

Lips meet skin, soft and supple. Hand still caressing your cheek with subconscious strokes of his thumb. You can’t resist closing your eyes to lean into the sensation. 

It’s nice. Comfortable. And something he definitely hasn’t done before. 

Almost as if you’re afraid of losing this moment too soon, your hand wraps around his wrist, keeping it in place despite Eddie having no intention of moving it. 

Eddie swears he feels his heart skip a beat as your fingers curl around his arm, mentally praying you can’t feel his heart about to pump out of his chest with your bodies pressed together. The scent of your shampoo lingers on your scalp where the bridge of his nose rests, filling his senses. He, too, closes his eyes. He wages an internal war, knowing he should pull back but can’t help but fall victim to the comfort of this moment. Grasp tightening slightly on your skin, he remains selfish for a beat longer. And you let him. 

When he does pull away, you’re placed under an intimate microscope of study. Big brown eyes inches away from your face, studying for any sign of discomfort. Nothing to be found. His hand continues to cradle, nose remaining close enough to feel the soft breath fanning your face. 

In the faint light peeking through the fluttering curtains, shadows are cast across the hollows of his face, painting an intimate portrait of the man you’d not taken the time to inspect closely. The creases scattered across his forehead, indicators of a life filled with pain and regret. Faint stubble littered across his strong jawline, further emphasizing the severity of his bone structure.

How his full bottom lip curls inward slightly, lost in thought. A perfectly shaped cupids-bow, the soft flush of pink tinging his skin, the way the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. The suggestion of minty toothpaste ghosting across your face, as if you could taste it.

Eddie’s breath hitches as he watches your gaze flicker from his lips back up to his eyes, ceasing the smoothing motion of his thumb on your cheek. He feels as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t, like a young child caught red-handed reaching into the cookie jar. Yet, he doesn’t retreat. He’s done with running. His hand remains, a heavy-lidded gaze locked onto yours. And he can’t help but drink in the vision of you lying before him. Unapologetically and shamelessly. 

It’s blurry, how the inches begin to lessen between your faces, the distance edging closed as breaths intermingle. It’s entirely possible you leant forward, recalling the vague sensation of cool air hitting the back of your neck from the partially dried hair clinging to it. Equally as likely, the adrenaline coursing through Eddie’s system rendered his actions perfunctory. Nights spent thinking, wondering, pining, culminating in this moment of sheer bravery. 

Not driven by the outcome. Just the desire for closeness. For more. For you.

Your eyes flutter half-closed as you feel the tip of his nose brush against yours, the contact sending shivers down your spine. An unspoken game of chicken, waiting for the other to back down while mouths edge closer still. Your hand creeps up, laid flat across the top of his against your cheek, the inches between you charged with electricity. No one backs down. Neither of you want to. 

Anticipation crescendos as you feel his lips ghosting above, unable to distinguish if they are meeting yours or the charged tension in the air existing between you has manifested on your skin. A suggestion of skin on skin, holding back the tidal wave of desperation simmering beneath the surface. 

Close enough to taste-

The two of you jolt apart as a fierce wail echoes through the living room, finding your respective sides of the bed. Heart pounding, you steady your breath as Eddie struggles to look at you, shooting from under the covers.

“I’ll get her.” He mumbles awkwardly, staggering to his feet like he’s lost faith in his limbs to keep himself upright. “You um- try to get some sleep, okay? Night.”

And without a second glance in your direction, he swings the bedroom door closed behind him. The sudden distance between you hits you like a gut punch. Of all the stupid things you did tonight, this may have been the stupidest. You should feel glad for Audrey’s perfectly-timed interruption, grateful to know you won’t be getting up every few hours to attend to her. You can sleep freely. But fuck, with the rate your heart is pounding right now, you wonder if you’ll get any rest at all tonight. As you lay your head back on the pillow, you let out an exasperated sigh, trying to return your heart rate to a steady pace. 

The bed suddenly feels entirely too empty.

[childside]

Ok ok ok I'm in the mood for angsty Tommy back story astksjqldjll (I'm sorry for grammar :' (

--

It's Wednesday morning, finally he and Buck get their day off together. He's halfway go to the kitchen where he could smells buck's cooking with softly music from the Bluetooth speaker. He watches Buck busy with frying pan, toaster, ane other kitchen appliances. He smiles until he's close enough to listen to the music and Buck's singing the chorus.

"Just the two of us, we can make it if we try, just the two of us~"

And Tommy can feel his heart cracked.

-

One day when Tommy was 10yo, he just got back from school, his abusive dad at work and his drunk mum sleep on the sofa with the radio on, not too loud but just normal volume where he can hear it from the kitchen.

He know best that if he wake up his mom and ask for lunch she would bee pissed and hit him and just shouting at him. So he tried to to find anything edible from the fridge or the shelf. Got some leftovers bread and a half empty peanut butter jar. He usually get used to eat anything from the fridge when his mom drunk like today, but sometimes he just want a warm meal, as simple as Mac n cheese, pancakes, bacon, omelette or proper sandwich. And today is the day where he feel gloomy enough to eat his bread and peanut butter, he wanted to cry but he hold it as much as he could.

Not until he find Ginger the cat enter the kitchen from the back door. Ginger used to be his family pet, his grandma give it for Christmas few years ago. He loved Ginger, but when his family started to crumbling apart, with his drunk mom and abusive dad, they abandoned Ginger too. No one care enough to feed it or just play with it. Except Tommy. But as he getting older, he need to let Ginger free. Ginger can at least have a chance of getting food from neighbors or trash can outside. Tommy know it's dangerous but it's better for Ginger. So he let it free. But somehow Ginger keep coming back. It doesn't ask for food or stay long. Just checking in the house and greet Tommy, usually in the kitchen or Ginger climb Tommy's bed and snuggle just for a few hours before it go back outside again.

So when Ginger find Tommy sit on the kitchen floor eating his "sandwich", Ginger get closer and Tommy hug it tightly. The radio play a song Just The Two Of Us, a romantic song about lovers, but Tommy doesn't understand about it yet, doesn't care about the whole lyric, but all he could hear is "just the two of us, we can make it if we try, just the two of us.." and his can't hold his tears any longer. He sobs quietly while hugging Ginger. He keep saying "Just the two of us Ginger. We can make it if we try" in his head. Ginger stay with him in the kitchen for few more hours.

Unfortunately, when his parents divorced and he needs to move with his mom, of course he needs to left Ginger. The day when they're ready to move, Ginger show up and he hold Ginger tightly. He cried. No more "the two of us". He would fight the world alone from now. And Ginger would go to adventure alone without place to coming back. Tommy cried so hard and his mom have to force him to get in the car. He left Ginger. He feels guilty. He left Ginger. But over the year he learned that life must go on.

----

"Just the two of us, we can make-" Evan mid singing stop when he turn around to the kitchen aisle to get spoon and see Tommy, standing still, while tears streaming down his eyes. Tommy cover his face and crying uncontrollably, for the first time in forever. Evan turn off the stove and hold Tommy quickly. Tommy's board shoulders shaking as he melt down on the kitchen floors, and he feels like he's back to his old kitchen, eating leftovers bread and scrapped the almost empty peanut butter jar, with Ginger on his lap.

Tommy still crying but he's aware that Evan's here, together with him on kitchen floor, holding him tightly. The kitchen smells delicious, he can smells bacon and eggs, he can smells Evan's coffee and his own hot chamomile tea. He's with Evan. He's not alone. He has the love of his life to get through the day forever, hopefully. He realizes that his life is so much better than he was long time ago.

Evan's take care of him calmly until he's stop crying. Instead of asking or panicking, he ask,

"what do you need Tommy? What can I help?"

Tommy shake his head and get up to open the fridge. Evan follow him. He looking at the fridge and take a jar of peanut butter. It's still almost full. He remembers they bought it last week while grocery shopping.

"Do you want peanut butter toast for breakfast?"

Tommy just look at Evan's blue eyes and hug him tightly, while holding peanut butter jar in his right palm. "No, I would love to eat your cooking. Thank you Evan. Thank you. I love you."

Evan kind of confused but he hold Tommy back, understand that Tommy will talk about this later.

"I love you too."

[mycrayolamarkers]

Daily Log- 67

it's now the second week of being bound to my young charge and the second day of being around little Eva’s mother. The little one’s mother is used to me or is being polite and not showing her distrust of me. She acts like I am not there and will only acknowledge me if Eva includes me in the conversation.

I have noticed that my little Eva had two different schedules depending on the human watching her. Though having similar things in common at least so far. When being babysat her schedule is like with her neighbor.

6:00 AM: Eva wakes up before going back to sleep.

7:30 to 7:40 AM: her neighbor wakes up and rushes to wake up Eva to get dressed and ready for school.

7:50 AM: they are out the door, Without eating breakfast but Little Eva informed me that at her school they give children breakfast.

8:04 AM to 3:45 PM: little Eva makes it to school late. While I could be there with her all day it's too well light for my taste. Also, most adeptus astartes are not allowed at school besides designated ultramarines and the Imperial Army.

4:00 PM: Eva gets home and I help her with any homework then it's Free time.

6:00 PM: It's dinner time, then after Little Eva will try to feed me some of her food. I must eat a few bites or she'll get upset.

7:00 to 8:00 Pm: free time once again till 8 PM. Eva’s babysitter will get her ready for bed.

8:30 to 8:57 PM: Eva is put to bed but will not fall asleep and will play for a bit till I step in. I will need to hold her in my arms and hum a soft lullaby after a couple of minutes will soon go to sleep; and Then I will tuck her into bed.

I do not have enough information about how Eva’s schedule like with her mother to have an official one to write down but after this week, I'll have enough information to write it down. I must go now because Eva is now waking up for the day.

— Oras Karerax (Mr. Eeyore)

(thanks to the Warhammer name generators)

[jamiegeode]

Why yes I would love to know more. I’ve only ever read The Wizard of Oz (and seen the sequel movie to The Wizard of Oz a long time ago) so please feel free to tell me all about them. Also who’s the pumpkin man??

YESSSS YAYAYAY

SO! Jack Pumpkinhead is a scarecrow made by Ozma(at the time known as the boy Tip) and then brought to life by Tip’s guardian, Old Mombi, one of the illegal witches* of the time. Jack is then taken by Mombi and locked up, and she tells Tip(who she never wanted in the first place**) she will turn him into a marble statue and use the Pumpkinhead as a servant instead. Also Tip’s basically been a slave, and Mombi’s like ‘hm. Less annoying AND I don’t need to feed it? Bye kid.’ This leads to Tip and Jack running away, and the rest of the events in The Land of Oz

It’s also worth noting that Jack Pumpkinhead? He has a deep, severe fear of death. Like he gets anywhere near water and goes ‘dear god, will my head start rotting from the inside?’ He also calls Tip his dad for the entirety of The Marvelous Land Of Oz(second book in the series) and ends up starting a pumpkin farm after his adventures, so that he never has to worry about running out of replacement heads. He’s great. Anxiety rep at its most whimsical.

*Mombi’s brand of magic being made illegal after the laws the Scarecrow passed upon becoming king, mostly prohibiting ‘unnatural’ or harmful magics, but pretty much stopping the majority of magicians and witches not directly loyal to the crown from doing any magic. Which. Mombi herself ain’t great but BRO he essentially banned TRANSITIONING SPELLS! **she was paid by the Wizard of Oz to take the heir to the throne of Oz and hide her so she would never be found- so she turned the princess of Oz into a boy. He doesn’t give a shit about gender tho bc of being what we would in modern terms call ‘a genderqueer icon’, but this did make it pretty hard to find them.

Ok. NOW TO THE ICON HERSELF, POSSIBLY BEST KNOWN FOR THESE ILLUSTRATIONS(WHICH APPEAR IN THE OFFICIAL COLLECTION, AND FROM THE BOOK PUBLISHED IN 1909):

(Yes these photos are from my own copy of the collection of books 1-5, Twas a gift)

OZMA, TIP, THE MONARCH OF OZ!!

She’s an icon. He helped a revolt led by the women of Oz. He then helped the scarecrow escape that same rebellion by making a cursed beast out of some rope, couches, palm fromnds, and a deer head. The curse is how much it hates its own body, being more confusing than a chimera. He fathered a horse. She gave another girl free rein of the palace, including Ozma’s private chambers, and that girl is Dorothy. She helped Dorothy’s entire family move to Oz to escape Debt, and might’ve also helped them commit tax fraud. She then took Dorothy’s family on a tour of the entirety of Oz, usually sharing a room with Dorothy. It was literally love at first sight(paraphrase: she loved the other girl when she first saw her). Before Dorothy moved in, they used a magic portrait/mirror set to call each other at a specific time each day. Dorothy can’t always make the calls, but Ozma is always there. Ozma gave Dorothy a magic belt so she could come and go from Oz as she wished. He’s part fairy. His cousin is part rainbow. Said cousin lowkey flirts with Dorothy. She made Dorothy a princess of Oz, with as much say in what happens as they have. They don’t give a fuck about gender but will perform gender roles like it’s a 30s television show, and I legit think that’s just for the fun of it. He made sure everyone in Oz has a minimum of one bread tree per family. He told the gnome king to fuck off and then stole his trinkets. Those trinkets were actually a neighboring kingdom’s royal family. She freaked out a little when she transitioned but then her friends went ‘it’s still you, we don’t care as long as youre you’ and it was deemed the smartest and wisest thing ever said by the speaker. She’s friends with the guy who paid Mombi to hide her.

I could go into the impact that having a canonical queer character in such an old and well known franchise had on me as a kid, and how reading Oz books helped me feel like I was stepping into a safe place, but tbh I’m kinda stuck on the amount of batshit she got herself into in the second book. Wild.

By the way, all of this was written in the 1900s, the decade, not the century. Frank Baum was a real one.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 150

 Reverse age robins/batfam, but Bruce is also included in this age-shift. 

Damian is in fact the oldest, how was he created? Well that’s a wonderful question, one he didn’t have until he found what looks like a bit of a cloning lab while sneaking where he should definitely not be and well, he was going to have a mission anyway so. The Waynes find a drenched at-the-time six year old out in the rain and with several knives. 

 It’s like coaxing a half feral cat, but they do manage to get him inside even if they can’t get answers out of him. But they do get him to relax and get him some legal papers since he apparently doesn’t exist. And it’s… different then what he’s used to. Calmer. More peaceful. 

 When the two die he nearly snaps, they were the closest things he had to proper parents, people who were kind to him and taught him kindness. He was out of practice, rusty in skills he could have used to save them. Something he’ll never let happen again. 

 Which, hm. He didn’t mean to become a vigilante. He really didn’t, but he has to make sure the city is safe. He has the training, he knows how to go unseen, even if he hesitates with some deaths. Thomas would be disappointed. So he stays his hand if he can help it. 

 Now if only the tiny meta child would stop following him. What was their name… D… D something Thomas. The world must be playing some sort of sick joke on him. A horrible sick joke. It doesn't matter if it's been years now. It still hurts. 

 So maybe he investigates things, if only because this child is an idiot, and- Ugh, this is all the Waynes’ fault for giving him things like empathy, how disgusting. Fine, fine, he’ll train you, if only so you stop jumping off of bridges with no equipment or anything. 

 Duke is honestly relieved to get training, even if it’s exhausting. And he doesn’t have to return to the orphanage or anything, his teacher doesn’t seem to care! Which means he’s slightly betrayed when he finds out Damian has in fact applied him to homeschool. The kid is nine, as the Waynes would say, and needed to continue his education. 

So Signal joins Ghoul in mostly-nightly patrols. 

 And then apparently their neighbor discovers them. Damian is so annoyed at himself. A twelve year old. A twelve year old discovered their identities, which means more contingencies and preventative measures are needed. This one’s last name isn’t so painful- Drake- but the kid reminds him of a bedraggled kitten that he begrudgingly invites him into the manor. 

 Which ugh, he’s going to get attached, the kid is already feeding the ducks with Duke and is trying to coax his dog over for pets. And also wants training- even though his espionage is actually surprisingly decent for a civilian and a literal child. Dammit he’s getting soft. 

And so Wren joins them as well, freeing the children up to continue their civilian education. Even if he’s also doubling it as undercover training. 

 So why is Drake smiling nervously up at him with another costumed child squinting up at him. Oh the costume is definitely homemade, barely any protection save for a way to hide her identity, but still. It’s rather obvious what she’s up to. 

 And he can protest, he can, but she does complete the training gauntlet so fine. Fine. That doesn’t mean he’s going to take it easy on any of them, even if he gently dumps several kittens into their laps if he’s feeling affectionate enough. Stupid wide-eyes like stray dogs. 

Spoiler joins them by the summer. 

 Which, honestly, he’s slightly resigned when they bring home another child. A literal street urchin who tries to bite him like some sort of kitten, so he scruffs him like one. This is karma for his own violence as a child, isn’t it? 

 Though perhaps not, seeing as Todd was the most interested in schooling. Maybe he could get him interested in something else as well, some other weapon that the others had yet to prefer. And perhaps convince him that armor was in fact not a negotiation. 

Cardinal is quite relieved for that armor when there’s a bit of ricochet one night. 

 Picking up another assassin child was not in his plans either, he’d like to say. In fact, said child tried to break into his home on a rainy night not unlike how he came into the Waynes’ custody in the first place. So perhaps it really is karma, but nope. Can’t be since Cass is a sweetheart and latches onto Todd, who insists that it’s his job as her big brother to help her learn to read. 

 So another child joins in running across the rooftops each night, their little Shadow following them all. 

That has to be it, right? No more small children insisting on wanting training or trying to bite his ankles or just going vigilante on their own? No such luck and he might let himself scream into his demon-bat’s fur for a few moments because honestly, what is wrong with Gotham?! This kid isn’t even from Gotham- just watched his parents die, in fact they all saw it because the children insisted he try to have fun that wasn’t art or animal care and fuck. The police want to send the small child to juvie, and the kids who are definitely-not-his are all demanding he do something, and ergh. Fine. But that is the last child, he swears. 

 Y’know what, fine Dick, join the nightly runs too he supposes. But he’s cutting back on some of those colors to be safer, little Robin. 

 He said he wasn’t taking in more children, so why are there two very small children at the front door?!

[fleckcmscott]

Rain or Shine

Summary: Y/N cherishes the joys Arthur has returned to her life - and traverses echoes of the past.  

Words: 1,898

Warnings: None

A/N: My husband (😘) thinks this oneshot's summary should be, "A little story I wrote in two weeks." 😂 Please enjoy another look at Arthur and Y/N's early days! Special thanks to @jokerownsmysoul for beta-ing! More is on the way, including a late Halloween tale. My pen is simply scrawling slowly these days. 🖋️ Thanks for reading!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

It was 5:32 AM and Arthur Fleck was in her bed.

Y/N's alarm was set to six, but Arthur spending the night tended to stir her early. A change she chalked up to the newness of him. The excitement of him. Sure, work would be fuzzy between cups of caffeine, but that didn't matter. The family cases Matt had shoved her way were easy, even if they weren't easy to read. Divorces and custody battles, the odd child protective filing. She could draft them in her sleep.

She wrung out her hair, slid open the shower's glass door. Towel cinched at her hips, she flipped her Conair hair dryer to the highest setting. In the chapel silence of her apartment, it was as loud as a Gotham Air Jet coming in for a bumpy landing.

Toes wiggled on navy blue tile. If the walls were thin enough for the neighbor to have overhead her and Arthur's intimacies, they were likely thin enough for the Conair's whirring to permeate the bedroom. Given how little he slept, that wouldn't do.

Y/N waved the nozzle at the underside of her goosepimpled breasts (his hands would've done a better job of warming her) and flicked it off. Her mop could forgo proper hair care until they had a chance to test it.

Tangles detangled and combed back, thin layer of moisturizer on her face, she donned a robe and padded through the darkened living room to the kitchen.

The latest volume of Loving Some With... lay on the dinette table. She grabbed it, stuck it in her canvas bag to return to the library on her lunch hour. Even after all her reading, his diagnosis remained a mystery. Puzzling out possible illnesses hadn't worked; his symptoms were listed in every title. And she hadn't figured out a way to pry without it coming across as a What on Earth is Wrong with You.

He'd disclose it to her one day. She was confident of that. He'd tell her all about that part of himself. Eventually.

She filled the Coffeematic with four cups of water. Put two mugs on the counter, along with a teaspoon and diner style sugar dispenser she'd found at Donahue's, the kind with the flap. Smiling, she flipped it open and shut. If it hadn't been for Arthur, she wouldn't have bought it. Did he realize the ways he'd already changed her life? As mundane as kitchenware, as significant as a softened heart?

Harsh times had callused it over. Forced each chamber to thicken, harden into iron gates. Moving to Gotham had unlocked them. Making friends who were strangers to her past had pushed them ajar. Falling in love had flung them open.

Last evening, they'd had wine and conversation in bed, a lovely distraction after the news's distinct lack of Renew Corp. coverage. Arthur seemed to be developing a taste for Merlot; she'd stuck to two glasses.

He'd laughed as he explained that getting used to rolling over without falling off the couch or hitting the back cushions was weird. He'd laughed at her when she'd told him the hardest thing to get used to after she'd moved was standing in the subway. ("The drivers must have a pool as to who can brake the hardest.")

And she hadn't stopped putting her hands on him. Running awed palms up his chest, across his broad back. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed the skin to skin. Touching someone for more than a diaper change or washing or feeding. For more than a funhouse mirror of survival. For more than the mechanical.

The baggage she tried to keep hidden must've shown on her face, because he'd propped himself on an elbow, worry written on his dark brow. "Is something wrong?"

Her fingertips flitted from freckle to freckle. "I was just thinking about how much I love touching you," she'd half-truthed. "How much I love you," she'd full-truthed. "How much I like you."

Unease had given way to a shy smile, tight lips and closed eyes. He'd reached over her to turn out the nightstand lamp, pulled the floral comforter to their chins. A bony foot burrowed between her calves, cold toes caressed her instep. His strong arms had enveloped her, warm and soft and safe. "I like you a lot, too."

Cooking for someone who could enjoy it was another rediscovered pleasure. She took out two frying pans, filled one with OreIda golden home fries and deli honey ham. Brown eyes narrowed at a carton of eggs. How did Arthur like them fried? Sunny side up? Well done? How many would he want? When she'd asked if he'd been eating enough, he'd shrugged, said he guessed so. A perfect non-answer. She reached into the carton and grabbed four.

As she salted the potatoes, the TV sparked on, a commercial for the GBS Wednesday Night Presentation: a special on changes in the workplace in the eighties. Then Wake Up Gotham's muted trumpet bounced through the apartment, a triumphant start to a bright new day. She pressed the brew button on the coffee maker.

When Arthur rounded the corner, he'd already put on brown trousers, but his chest remained bare. The smell of nicotine and bitter cold rolled off him. "Your hair's wet." He wound a clump of damp strands around his thumb and forefinger.

"You slept so soundly. I didn't want to wake you." She cupped his chin, drew him in for a peck. "I wish you wouldn't go out in the cold like that. You better have some coffee to warm up."

He reached for the pot but stopped, paused mid-motion. An almost imperceptible twitch in his bicep. "What's this for?" he asked, low and graveled.

"It's for you, silly. Now you can pour exactly how much you want."

He traced the sugar dispenser's rimmed lid, followed its seams to the ribbed glass. "Can I pour you?"

A groaned chuckle, a shake of her head. She cracked eggs into the second frying pan. "This'll be ready in a few minutes. Put our mugs on the coffee table and I'll be right over."

Plates in hand, they sat on the sofa. Paper towels covered her lap and, by extension, the couch - getting grease out of cream color upholstery would be a nightmare. Feet tucked beneath her bottom, she cut egg white with the side of her fork. "What have you got planned for today?"

"I have to call the nursing home. Find out what I need to send over. There's too much stuff at the apartment. The paperwork's all done, but they want something else. I think it's the living will you explained to me? At the hospital?" Huffing, he leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. "But I dunno what she wants."

"The doctors there should be able to help you figure out what's best. I didn't know what my father wanted. I had to do what I thought was right and hope that it was." She blew ripples in her coffee. "You'll know what to do. It may take a while, but you'll get there."

The weatherman predicted an afternoon of clear sunny skies, and freezing rain expected around seven. The lead anchor started in on the latest headlines. After the latest round of failed negotiations, the garbage strike was expected to last through the end of the year. Severe storms had knocked out power to millions in Texas and Nebraska. Reagan had promised to ''not retreat one inch'' from his social spending cuts for the poor and tax cuts for the rich, a story that felt too close to home.

Arthur poked at a home fry, brought it to his mouth. Dragged it from the tine with front teeth. He chewed at the pace of a cow on its third round of cud. He pushed the egg around his plate. The white flipped and wrinkled, mixing with ketchup. When his fork pierced the yolk, yellow streaks spilled streams all over. Soaked the potatoes, smothered the honey ham. Sickly veins across the ceramic.

"They're too runny, I'm sorry." Holding her robe to her breast, she aimed to stand. "I'll make some toast to sop that up."

The plate clunked to the table. "No, it's fine." Both hands pressed flat on the wooden surface. The tendons of his neck stood out like jagged fences.

At the next commercial break, she swallowed. "Arth-"

"I'm not upset," he said. Chuckling, snuffling. A scratch of laughter in his throat, nearly an animal cry. He armed his nose, leaving a long, wet streak. "I just- I don't know what to do with what's going on in my head. I'm happy- I'm happy with you, but... I don't know where you came from. I don't know why you're here now." The fingers of his left hand coiled like snakes. "I don't know why you weren't here before!" His fist pounded the table on the final word. Cutlery clattered to the carpet.

Silence tautened the air. Y/N stared at his hand, which trembled, loosened. Four seconds and he winced, murmuring sorry, I'm sorry with the shame of a sinner. He reached for her, entwined their knuckles until hers ached. She didn't stop his apologies.

He'd been hot and cold since Murray, since running out of medication and treatment. Last night hot, this morning cold. And the anger she'd just glimpsed was too close to what she'd seen on the monitors backstage, when she'd longed to go to him and had to wait for a commercial break. It was tough to witness. Brought back unwelcome feelings of Unknown.

Meeting him earlier would have been wonderful. She often thought about it, pondered what they might have had. But she wasn't sure it would've worked. Though painful, experience had matured her, provided insight not only into Arthur, but also into herself. Without it, she may well have repeated a version of the mistakes she'd made with her father. Driven down the same dark roads with headlights out.

She wouldn't allow that to happen again.

She sipped her coffee quietly. Thoughtful, not meek. "Have you called the doctor?"

"No."

"I think you need to."

He stroked up her forearm, under her loose sleeve. The hurt hiding under frustration turning into the tenderness that'd caught and kept her. "It's hard."

"I'm glad you're happy with me; I'm happy with you, too. But I want you to be happy with yourself."

At that, Arthur scooted up the sofa, turned to lay his head on her shoulder. The arms that'd protected her before now clung to her middle. Fingers burrowed, determined to sneak between her back and the cushions. Eyelashes tickled her neck, his nose nuzzled her clavicle. Rich shades of twilight shone through the windows, the blue hour before dawn.

Y/N stretched to put her mug on the coffee table. "You wonder why I wasn't here earlier," she said, stroking the silken curls at the nape of his neck. "I was busy becoming the woman who knows how to love you."

A rush of hot air caressed her skin. "Maybe I was busy becoming the man who's learning how to love you."

The gates of her heart fell off their hinges. "You're already doing a pretty good job, Mr. Fleck." Smiling, she rubbed her cheek against the crown of his head. "Let's teach each other as long as we can."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve​​​​​ @ithinkimaperson​​​​​ @sweet-nothings04​​​​​ @stephieraptorr​​​​ @rommies​​​​​ @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1​​​​​ @another-day-in-chuckletown​ @hhandley80​​​​​ @jokerownsmysoul​​​​​ @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics​​​​​ @iartsometimes​​​​​ @fleckficgirl

[endcant]

an incomplete list of things that are mundane but that i miss because i don't have access to them right now:

the foods i am allergic to now

dandelion tea

being part of a large team of people

making red bean paste

having a garden that isn't in pots on a balcony. it doesn't have to be big. i just miss the actual ground.

dancing without downstairs neighbors

sidewalks between me and almost anything i could ever want

getting somewhere early

having my own other place where i can lock things away and not just during work hours

being able to feel like i have a positive impact on people as regularly as i did at the tutoring center. but where else could i ever work that i can get profuse thank-yous every 15 minutes on the dot? with my skillset?

fishing with dad in california

bringing maple cookies to school friends in batches of 30

parking really far whenever i go anywhere and having a nice walk to and from my car

serving moms whiskey samples at noon on a sunday in a california grocery store

coffee and pumpkin jojos with my sister

walking a dog

feeding fish

the sierras

hot, dry, yellow landscapes

meeting someone else's older relatives every time i visit a friend's house.

feeling safe in a really big crowd of people

saving coffee for the security guard who would lock up at the art gallery i worked at for awhile. never got his name but i knew how he liked his coffee.

frequently meeting much older people who are currently attending community college and therefore are interested in learning new things

just having free agency to move around in much larger groups of people by myself in general (as a kid in california this experience was mandatory, as an adult in tennessee this experience costs a lot of money and also usually involves friends who expect me to stick with them the whole time)

piano with weighted keys

the scent of peach tea and wet dog at the same time

living in a room that was big enough for all of my earthly possessions and i never had to share that space with anybody and none of my stuff ever moved from where i expected it to be (thanks stephanie)

going to concerts in town

buying lots of books and having enough room to keep them all on shelves

when the creek's biodiversity wasn't obliterated by the city extending its gas pipelines to new developments

living somewhere WITH fences and WITHOUT "i will shoot you if you come onto my property" culture, both of which resulted in an overall better experience for Walkers

an incomplete list of things i have right now that i will miss if/when i do not have them later:

my roommates are incredibly generous and supportive and have helped a lot when ive had money problems

baldur is curled up on my keyboard and occasionally stands up, turns around and lays back down

both of my roommates laugh really loudly from their respective rooms at regular intervals

friend group chats are fairly active right now

the sound of cicadas is really relaxing

there were no dangerous storms for the past few days, so i have been able to go outside for basically any excuse

i have all the medications i need right now

i have my allergen-free spice mix that i can use anytime

i did a lot of laundry today and my back doesn't hurt. my back will hurt soon because i am about to do dishes, so i really have to enjoy this right now.

i am reading a library book about regional witchcraft right now. it is amazing. i will have to give it back, which is a little sad. i want to buy a copy one day when i have the money

i am not yet tired of the songs i am learning right now

all of my devices are currently functional

in general, my pain levels have been pretty bearable for the past month or so

our folding table is really helpful and not THAT bent yet

big lamp with daylight bulb keeps me sane

tall, thin, blessed candle that i got as a gift from a priestess will one day be used up or lost or broken

i have lots of art supplies right now

i have something specific to look forward to that is guaranteed to happen and that i can prepare for all i like in any way i want, but ultimately i'll still "succeed" in some basic way as long as i show up

there is a poem i want to memorize