#why do we even have to work on a leap day … we should spend the day … leaping idk …

[tetzoro]

GOOD MORNING FRIENDZ AND HAPPY LEAP DAY !!! such a weird little day we have here lol i hope it’s full of wonder and the best vibes ^_^ !! have a great day !! ᰔ

[amywritesthings]

Hii, I saw you are working on hallo sleepover and I wanted to send one! Is this the right place to ask for that? I hope it is😭 soo, I checked the promp lists and got really interested in autumn leaves/masquerade ball for levi ackerman x female reader or female oc, whichever you are comfortable with writing <3 I'm really craving for some levi royalty fic these days! Thank you!

hallo-sleepover '24!

...so this was supposed to be a drabble. it definitely isn't. i lowkey went a little insane with this one and wrote it in about two hours. hope u like xo

answers to callings.

pairing: levi ackerman x reader word count: 2.4k tags: medieval au, adult language, prince!levi, reader!knight, childhood friends turned unresolved tension, yearning and pining, first kisses, masquerade ball, dancing credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

You know better.

When Prince Levi invites you to a masquerade ball, it shouldn’t be taken as an invitation to stride on his arm. Protecting the crown is your sworn oath. He’s obligated to ask you, his royal guard, to attend the Autumn Masquerade Ball for his safety.

And when he suggests to dress for the occasion (as you see fit, added hastily within the margins of his quill) it strikes you as odd. Not because of the lack of instruction, no: the prince has not once tried to dictate what you wear in his presence, a rare feat for a man standing in front of a woman.

He sees you in the image of the little girl who grew up beside him, the rambunctious friend, the formidable ally who never saw him as a burden with a golden crown.

You should know better than to ever presume it’s a true opportunity for courtship, as knights are sworn to bow to their dutiful crown.

Although he was your best friend many moons ago, the only man you could have ever seen yourself standing beside on an altar in a white dress—

Seasons have changed. 

Years have passed.

He is the kingdom’s prince, not yours.

But why else would he have requested for you to dress for the occasion, as if your metallic exoskeleton protecting your true feelings and heart could be forgotten for the evening?

(You won’t receive an answer until you take the leap of faith.)

As opposed to greeting him at the door of his bed chambers in chainmail, you fidget with your fingers tucked under long, olive green sleeves. Velvet adorns your body, softening your silhouette as the skirt drags along the stone floors.

When Prince Levi opens his door — dressed head to toe in the family emeralds, the family brooch set upon his heart — he stops dead in his tracks at the sight of you. His stormy gray eyes fall without once looking at your face.

Oh.

Perhaps he only meant the scribbled afterthought as a jest.

You take a step back, the click of your shoe echoing against the large expanse of the corridor.

“There’s still time for me to change into my—”

“You wore the crown’s colors,” he observes in monotone, cutting off your worried rant.

His colors, more precisely.

Your face burns as you nod. “I thought it would be fitting. My armor holds the crest, and if a dress cannot do the same, then its fabric must bear its color.”

You can’t remember the last time you wore a dress around the prince. At the very least, you were both small and still so naive. 

His father and yours, king and kingsguard all the same, allowed you both the luxury of spending what little youth you had as explorers, adventurers, in a life where Levi would never need to wear a crown and you would never lose him.

When you grew older and realized how little you’d see of him as a kingsguard’s daughter, you chose knighthood: pledging allegiance to a friend, your only friend, for the rest of your mortal days and beyond.

“So it was done out of obligation?” he asks flatly, brow disappearing under the black fringe of his hair as it rises to question you.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Of mockery, then.”

“My lord—”

“Because if you had worn your armor, then it would have presented me an opportunity to offer a change myself so that we could appear to the royal court in our battle wear, further pissing off my father, and therefore shortening this ball altogether.”

The corner of his lip ticks. 

Oh.

He’s joking.

(Although little humor can be found by the crown, that rebellious boy with the insatiable fire is still in there somewhere. You just haven’t seen him in a while.)

“...oh, so now you mock me,” you joke in return.

He steps through the threshold of his bed chambers to meet you, toe to toe.

“I wouldn’t.”

In a rare moment of levity, you roll your eyes. It actually elicits a snort from the prince as he sweeps his cape behind his back, before his arm rises in a hook-like gesture.

“Let’s go,” Levi adds, lifting his elbow once towards you. “Before the blood-sucking suitors sniff me out from all the way over here.”

Right. 

His potential spouses.

Because he’d been putting off the whole marriage nonsense altogether, citing peace talks among Eldia and Marley as his priority above all else.

“You know if they did, I’d never let them get within an inch of you,” you remind him as you loop through his arm, mindful of your proximity. 

“I know,” he promises under his breath. “Above all else, I know.”

Within seconds your footsteps align, a harmonious click to scuffle with your heels and his boots, filling the firelit corridor with the announcement of the prince’s arrival. In unison, you lift your masquerade masks to situate them behind your ears and over the bridges of your noses.

By the time you reach the ballroom, the floor is already adorned with dancing couples from the kingdom and across the pond. Marleyean royalty dazzle and twirl to the quarter playing in the corner. The Eldians are a bit more subdued, discussing gossip and politics as the wine flows and the food is served.

Dozens upon dozens turn at the knowledge of the prince’s arrival and bow deeply, causing your stomach to churn.

You’re his first knight. You’re not meant to be on his arm.

You know it.

Those who know you also know it.

But as several eager suitors begin to curl around the ballroom floor, you feel Levi push not towards the throne-like chair awaiting his arrival — the very chair he’s sulked upon for most of these parties, wishing he were anywhere but —

Forward.

Down the stairs, towards the dance floor.

“What are you doing?” you whisper to the prince, brows knit under the planes of the mask.

“Saving us both.”

“With what?”

“Just trust me,” he whispers before detaching from you.

The significance of the moment hits you only a second too slowly, until suddenly you feel a warm hand run along your waist to secure behind your back. 

His other hand seeks out yours, curling his fingertips around your palm. Yours hangs limply at your side, not quite understanding what he’s doing until there are some gasps of surprise and confusion.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Levi Ackerman, has chosen his first dance suitor.”

No.

Oh — you were not supposed to be here.

When you whip your attention around to the eyes on you, you feel Levi’s hand leave your waist to grab your free hand. They both lift until your palm rests on the emerald sash decorating his shoulder. 

“Eyes on me.”

Obeying without another thought, your eyes meet.

“Don’t think.”

Before you can think, the music begins.

He pushes forward and you nearly stumble backward, but his fingers flex along the small of your back. The prince pushes you closer, his eyes boring into yours.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the steps from the aggravating dance lessons.”

“From when we were ten?” you ask bluntly, breaking your stoic character.

The answer only brings that smirk back. “They taught us this godforsaken box of a dance. So damn mind-numbing. Yet I was left to suffer through more classes alone while you were off preparing for knighthood.”

“Is that how you recall it?”

“Do you call your prince a liar?”

He’s still being playful. 

Around this time of night, he’s moody and disconnected. He’d much rather pull teeth than waltz around the dancefloor with the chosen (see: chosen for him) suitor that begs for his hand, but it’s what he’s required to do.

Except, on this night, he ran straight to the ballroom floor.

No formalities. No attempts of escaping.

He twirls you, and suddenly you’re that much closer to his body when you turn back around.

“You’re meant to choose a suitor for this dance, my lord,” you murmur, mindful of your steps the longer you’re both forced to take it.

“I didn’t want to.”

“That’s seen as disrespectful.”

“I disrespect, then.”

Prince Levi focuses on memorizing your features, as if compelled to look at you and only you. You watch him, counting the steps in your head for this dance.

“And don’t do that.”

“Do what, my lord?”

“That,” he states. “You are on my arm tonight. So it is not lord, not prince.”

Twirling one final time as the music swells to a close, your hand lands on the crook of his neck where your fingertip manages to catch skin. The prince’s eyes flutter, as if captivated by the way it feels on his bare flesh.

“Then what?” you whisper as you stand there, basking in the final step.

“Levi,” he answers. “As it was before.”

Levi.

You haven’t called him that in such a long time.

Your lips part to speak, but the ballroom erupts into applause for their prince. 

Quickly your mouth shuts, unwilling to compete with the crowd. 

Levi’s brows are knit, staring down at your lips as if expecting something — only to deflate when he realizes you aren’t going to say anything.

An opportunity, lost.

“Would you accompany me to the gardens?” he asks instead, filling the white noise with his velvet-smooth voice. Your conjoined hand gets a squeeze to bring you back to solid ground.

“If that is what you command,” you weakly state, trying to continue the facade, the masks, you’ve both shared through the last few years.

Levi’s nostrils flare before he steps out of the dance circle. Other couples eager to meet for the next song flood past you, obscuring the two of you through a battling undercurrent.

It’s dangerous, is your first line of thought. 

He should be behind me.

By the time you wish to reverse the order, to protect him, you're met with the crisp air of the night sky. Flames flicker against stone walls, illuminating the rose garden and shrubberies that curl around it. The dark sky twinkles with budding stars.

Levi stands with his back to you, your arms tethered at the wrist. For a moment he stands there, head bowed.

“Why are you avoiding your suitors?”

It’s a question you wish you could take back as soon as you say it. When he turns, the familiar scowl people know the prince for comes into view. He’s often seen as a snob, nose upturned at everyone but himself — and you.

“Of all people, you are not allowed to judge,” he growls, catching you off guard. “You swore off suitors when you swore to protect the crown. You needn’t answer to anyone’s call.”

“Because I answer to yours,” you defends yourself, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yes, so why can I not answer in return?”

When your brow knits, he takes a few steps forward. He enters your orbit in haste, his hand running through his wild raven hair.

“I send parchment for your arm, I bring you to court to dance, yet you’re somehow so damn blind to it.”

“To what?” you ask under your breath, your body growing numb.

If he implies—

No, that cannot be the truth.

Yet the more he speaks to you, he looks like that boy you left behind all those years ago. Not the prince, but Levi — the boy who has never once offered affection to another woman yet still begs of you to see him.

Levi moves another step forward, his boot slipping under the hem of your dress, and stops himself when he gets too close to your lips. You feel his hot breath pulse across your face, causing heat to rise through your body.

His eyes flicker across your face, as if searching for a sign to stop. When you stare wide-eyed in return, lost in your own feelings — gods all of the feelings you’ve swallowed down, down, down when it came to all the people wishing for his hand — for the first time since you were young.

“Command me.”

When he whispers, lightning jolts through your veins. Commanding someone of royal blood is a death sentence. Yet you know what he’s asking — why he’s asking.

“But you are my prince.”

“I am only a man,” he corrects in a murmur, shaking his head, “and you are more holy than any damned crown so I cannot take — but I beg of you, to ask.”

Everything turns to ash in your mind. Any panic, any worry, any doubt that his feelings could be reciprocated — they culminate to this moment. 

This, where you can look up at Levi Ackerman, the prince who stole your heart, and command.

“Kiss me, Levi.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Levi gathers you in his arms, his push forward so intense that you both stumble back into the dark corner of the castle’s exterior. His palm cradles the back of your head as he kisses you, drowning in the taste of you, and he practically moans at the mere feeling of it.

You try to keep up, kissing him back with equal impatience. Pulling and pushing you meet him kiss for kiss, your hand nestled upon the cool surface of his cheek. He swears under his breath, a curse only for you, before he ducks his chin and deepens the kiss.

The moan that slips across your tongue causes the hand at your waist to grip it tighter.

Although it’s a foreign feeling, you find your mouth opening when his lips part, your tongues meeting in the middle. It feels wrong — but the feeling quickly fades when his thigh wedges between yours and presses.

Levi pulls away, face flushed and eyes hazy. You both pant, your chests touching as you seek a stolen breath in this finite space between you.

Yet you can’t stop looking at him.

“I want nothing more than to have you,” Levi confesses. “All facets of you. I won’t jeopardize your knightship, but I wish to court none other.”

His forehead drops to yours.

You melt at the feeling, the intimacy, despite how you should pull away and do your duty as his sworn protector. You swore off marriage, but to be courted by one of the royal family…

It would be nullified.

If you wanted him, is what Levi has been trying to say this entire night.

“Then choose me,” you decide finally, softly, against his lips.

Although your eyes are closed, you feel it: a rare smile from the prince himself.

“I already have,” he promises. “I just had to wait for you to choose me, too.”

.

[turbulentscrawl]

In the poly post you said that ithaqua is as close as it get to a yandere may I ask why you think that ? Or any headcanons related to that if that's okay with you (sorry if the English is bad )

As luck would have it, Ithaqua is one of the few Hunters I think I have a decent grasp on rn so I was also able to crank this out quickly! (To my other request-ees: I'm working on HC requests for several other characters rn! I should have them ready to spam-post sometime this weekend <3)

So here's some general and sfw relationship hcs for Ithaqua ;)

-A first small note, his exact age is not listed, but he’s described as a “young adult,” so I imagine him to be somewhere between 18-22.

-Ithaqua is a man who has entirely rejected society. He wants nothing more to do with it, with anyone, and any instance of breaching his territory is met with wind-swift punishment.

-It all fits when you consider the major events of his life. He was abandoned in a snowstorm, left for dead, because he was thought to be a devil. He was saved and raised by a “witch,” a kind woman who stood outside of society’s norms and was feared and hated for it. Their solitary home was trespassed on in the night, defiled, and his mother was kidnapped, tortured, and broken by a man with his exact face. Every small bit of comfort he ever had was destroyed by a mirror image of himself that was raised in “civilized” society. If that doesn’t cement the idea that people from that world can’t be given a chance, I don’t know what would.

-And I think on some level he questions the reality of it all. Did he do it? Did he destroy his own life? Was his so-called brother actually a copy of himself? Was Nathaniel supposed to be the better or the worse version? Was he himself evil before…or is he evil now? None of it matters in the long run, though. His only remaining goal in life is to defend his home and his mother’s resting place from interlopers. But he does get this distant, sour expression sometimes when he contemplates these things.

-I think he’s close to an as-is yandere because, if we assume he’s still capable of bonding with someone on a genuine level, that person would be a one true exception to his otherwise all-consuming distrust and hatred for society. He could not be “led to water”, so to speak, even by a partner who exemplified everything good left in the world. He’s just not capable of making that leap anymore.

-So again, he’s territorial, and that would 1000% extend to a partner. He’s not a master and you’re not his pet, but god would he try to keep you in his clutches. Use every sweet word and convincing anecdote in his arsenal to convince you to stay in the forest. The thing that keeps him from being all-out controlling is that his mother let him make his decisions for himself. She taught him how to survive in the wilderness, and she taught him about the rest of society, and she let him decide for himself if he ever wanted to get involved in it. He didn’t of course, because how could a place that shunned his mother be good for him? You deserve to make those choices too, even if he disagrees with what you pick.

-He will, however, watch you like a hawk. To not sugarcoat it, he’ll stalk you. Ithaqua wants to be prepared for the moment everything goes wrong. The moment he knows for certain will come, when you see he’s right about other people. When that happens, he’ll swoop in to save you. He refuses to be late again, like he was for his mother.

-He doesn’t leave the forest unattended often, but when you spend longer stints at your home in a village, you’ll notice the weather gradually becoming worse and worse. It seems to snow every day, and the wind is so harsh that walking outside is deafening and blinding. When you return to visit Ithaqua, the village mysteriously returns to its normal weather patterns.

-Ithaqua hates when other people interact with you. No one is no one is safe enough, trustworthy enough for him to not worry for your safety. They don’t deserve to even stand near you. But he won’t do anything until they do…or you say he can.

-Anyone he takes as a partner would have to remind him of his mother, at least a little. She’s the only example he has of a “good person” so he’s not likely to give people with divergent personality types much of a chance. He’s also more likely to trust a woman over a man, by a small margin.

-He won’t stand for being doted on or babied by anyone other than his mother or partner. he won't fall for other people's faux-gentleness! Don’t you know who he is? What he is? Call him cute or pitiful again and your blood will stain the snow red.

-His lips are always chapped to hell and back, sorry. Sharp kisses only for you.

[rypnami]

The Yule Ball

happy christmas everyone! this is the last part for now of my yule ball posts for @leaping-toadstool-caps 's event. as mentioned in my headcanons post (found here), leander spends most of the night working up the courage to ask his sebastian to dance. i decided for my christmas post, i should write what happens next. enjoy!

this is not proofread at all and is a bit of a mess but its fine we ball

(outfit post here)

word count: a lot probably i didn't actually count

mentioned mcs: phillip prewett (mine), jaimsen hisui @leaping-toadstool-caps odysseus carrow @saibugslegacy amberlyn salters @ps-cactus

Leander isn't sure why he came to the ball.

He thinks he must look like the biggest knob alive, coming without a date, loitering around as a third wheel to his older brother and his boyfriend, and then going to hide in the corner and stuff his face with chocolate frogs. Surrounded by happy couples, or groups of friends who came to have a good time, he feels even worse. Last week, he had almost gotten it together to ask Sebastian to go with him, but had gotten too anxious and practically run away.

Unwrapping another chocolate frog, he hardly glances at the card as he drops it in the pile and shoves the whole thing in his mouth head-first. If he's going to be a lonely bastard, at least he's doing so with sweets. The decorations around the Great Hall are brilliant, too. Tall, icy trees, enchanted snow falling gently from the ceiling, which looks like a winter sky, and baubles galore along the walls. Jaimsen really outdid himself, setting this all up. At least there is something to look at other than all the couples dancing.

"You!"

Leander jumps.

Jaimsen comes up to him, arms crossed. "No being sad at my ball!"

"I'm not sad-"

"Don't lie to me, Prewett."

"Not my fault," Leander protests, even though it most certainly is. "You know, it's statistically proven that depression is worse around the holidays, so naturally at leas one person here would be-"

"Spare us all the lecture. I'm begging." Phillip seems to materialise beside them, Odysseus in tow, and throws his arm over Leander's shoulders.

"I'm right, though."

"If you're truly that distraught about it, why not ask him to dance?" Odysseus says.

Jaimsen nods. "That's an excellent idea."

Leander shrugs Phillip's arm off and takes a step away. "I- what- who are you... talking about?" They can't know, can they?

The other three boys seem to roll their eyes in unison. "Sebastian, of course," Phillip says, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

He might die from humiliation. "Why- what- why- why would I ask Sebastian to dance?!" He stammers.

"Everyone knows you fancy him."

"You follow him everywhere. You're like a puppy."

"Whenever he's around, whatever minimal braincells you have seem to evaporate."

"You almost cried when that rumour about him coming with Adair was going around."

"And-"

"That's quite enough!" Leander cuts them all off, his face almost as red as his dress robes. "You've all made your point!"

"So ask him!" Phillip says. "Stop pouting in the corner."

"How?"

"Like this." Odysseus stands on his toes to match Leander's height and starts doing an awful impression of his voice. "Sebastian, would you like to dance with me?" He drops back down to his normal height. "Easy."

"Very easy," Jaimsen agrees.

Well, fine, it sounds easy in theory, but so had asking Sebastian to be his date, and that had not gone well. Excuse. Excuse. Think of an excuse why you can't.

"I would, but... Sebastian is busy. With Ominis." Although he's been trying not to, every time Leander has searched through the crowd for Sebastian, he's been talking to Ominis. He is definitely not jealous and is not watching in case someone else should ask him to dance.

"It's your lucky day, then," Phillip points across the hall. Sebastian is standing just to the side of the dance floor, watching as Ominis takes Amberlyn Salters by the arm and leads her out to dance. "It seems Mr Gaunt is occupied."

"Oh. Yay."

"So go talk to him."

Before he can protest, the trio is practically dragging him across the floor, Leander stammering half-formed excuses the entire way. Phillip shoves Leander in Sebastian's direction, then the three scamper off, giggling.

"Leander, hello!" Sebastian says as Leander almost trips into him. "I was just wondering if you were here."

Leander is at a loss for words. From far away, it was hard to see, but up close he feels like he can't breathe. Sebastian is wearing a dark green velvet tuxedo jacket and matching dress pants. His typically unruly brown hair is combed and must have a gallon of product in it to keep it down, but there are still a few strands sticking out here and there.

He looks positively gorgeous.

Next to him, Leander must look like a toad wearing a suit.

"Er, yes, I've been, you know, with my brother and his boyfriend..." He hopes there's no chocolate smudged on his face... too late to worry about that now.

"No dancing?"

"No. I came without a date." Saying it out loud feels like an exercise in humiliation, honestly. “No one asked me… and I dunno, asking someone was…”

“Intimidating?” Sebastian suggests.

Leander nods. “I… suppose so, yes.”

“I didn’t come with anyone, either.”

“You didn’t ask someone?” What’s more surprising to Leander is that no one asked Sebastian. He’s easily the prettiest boy in school (in his opinion, anyway) and he’s well-liked by most everyone. With that suit on, too, it’s a wonder half the students here aren’t tripping over themselves to dance with him.

"I didn't. I was asked by a few people, but I turned them down. I was rather hoping someone specific would invite me. They never did." Sebastian absently picks at his silver cufflinks, seeming to get lost in thought.

"Then they're an idiot." Leander says simply.

"Think so?"

Leander snorts. "Of course. Anyone would be lucky to go to a ball with you." Was that too forward? That was too forward, wasn't it..

"You flatter me," Sebastian sighs and mock swoons.

He has no idea why he was so petrified at the idea of talking to Sebastian- they are friends, and even with the 'my-brother-and-his-friends-are-peer-pressuring-me-into-asking-him-to-dance' thing, it's no different from when they chat in class, or study together in the library. Perhaps asking for a dance will be okay. At the least, it won't be the end of the world... right?

“Sebastian. I-“ I really like you. I've always really liked you. No, that's too much. I'm letting the silence go on too long. Say something say something SAY SOMETHING.

“Yes?”

"I. I. Um."

Sebastian raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. "Are you feeling quite alright? You look a bit flush."

"Y-yes, I'm grand. Um." Sweat drips down Leander's temples. Sebastian will laugh at him, he'll look a fool, everyone will know what a failure he is... "Um." Merlin's beard, Prewett, just say the damn words! “Since neither of us… has a date…”

A few paces behind Sebastian, Phillip is watching the disaster. He smiles and gives Leander two thumbs up.

"Doyouwanttodancewithme?"

"...I'm sorry?" Sebastian says. “What?”

That's that. Leander wants to crawl into a hole and die. Of course Sebastian would never want to dance with him, of all people.

"N-no, I'm sorry, stupid idea. Sorry."

"Wait." Sebastian puts his hand on Leander's shoulder before he can walk away. "Don't be sorry, I simply didn't hear what you said."

"O-Oh."

Sebastian looks at him expectantly. No way to back out now.

"I, er, I was wondering if... I- no pressure, or anything, but it looks like it's the last dance of the evening, so I thought... um, perhaps you'd like to dance... with... me?"

A beat of silence that couldn't be more than a second, but feels like a century.

A grin spreads across Sebastian's face. "I was beginning to think you'd never ask."

A new song starts, and Sebastian offers his hand. "Shall we?" Leander takes it, blushing.

Sebastian's hands are warm, and he's got a firm grip. There are callouses on his palms, likely from how many firey spells he uses. Leander desperately tries not to focus on just how well Sebastian's suit jacket fits him, or how he smells a bit like lavender and bergamot. He hopes his own palms aren't sweating.

Silently, he thanks his mum for being willing to teach him how to waltz. If he hadn't spent the past several weeks practising relentlessly, he's certain he'd be stepping all over Sebastian's toes right now.

Sebastian puts his hand on Leander's waist as the dance starts, and he almost blacks out. Everything around them is like background noise- they might as well be the only people in the world as they sway across the dance floor.

"I- wanted to ask you to come as my date," Leander admits, smiling awkwardly. "Last week, after Charms. I was going to, but, uh..."

Sebastian chuckles, and the sound of it warms Leander's body more than even the strongest Butterbeer. "Is that why you ran off? Merlin, I thought you just really needed the loo."

Blood rushes to Leander's face again. "I see."

"Were you truly that nervous to ask me?"

“How could I not be?” They’re close enough now that he can almost count the freckles on Sebastian’s face, a welcome distraction from making direct eye contact. “You’re cute, and smart, and brilliant at magic." Leander chews his lip. "I'm not... any of that, so I suppose I didn't think I had a chance?"

"I was waiting for you to ask."

"You wanted- Me?"

Sebastian really laughs now, and the way the bridge of his nose crinkles as he does is so cute Leander almost has to physically fight the urge to kiss him right there. "Did you really not know? I've been dropping hints for ages!"

Oh. Honestly, that makes a lot of sense. "I... I suppose I wasn't paying close enough attention." Translation- I hoped you felt the same, but I didn't think I was good enough for you.

"Merlin, you're as thick as it gets." Sebastian teases.

Leander rolls his eyes. "Well perhaps you were unclear!" But he starts to laugh, too. He can't believe he had been so scared to do this not 15 minutes ago. In fact, now he's wishing he'd manned up sooner and asked Sebastian earlier in the night, so they could have more dances, and more time to talk about... whatever might be between them, now.

The music slowly comes to an end, and with it the dance. As they step apart, Sebastian bows low with a slight smirk. "Thank you for the dance, Mr Prewett."

"Thank you, Mr Sallow." Leander mirrors him. He hesitates for a moment. This is his first formal ball, and he's not really sure what he's supposed to do now. Walk him back to his dorm? Dance again? Get them something to drink? Before he can overthink too much-

"Would you look at that." Sebastian is pointing up.

Dangling above their heads is a sprig of mistletoe. A sprig of mistletoe that was definitely not there a moment ago. Leander swears he can head Phillip snickering nearby. Busybody.

"You know, I've heard that if you don't kiss under the mistletoe, it's bad luck," says Sebastian conversationally. "I'd normally say I don't believe it and go about my evening, but we've got a Potions exam coming up, and I dunno if I want to risk it."

"With my marks in Potions, I don't think I can risk a stroke of bad luck right now, either..."

Neither of them mention, of course, that said exam is almost two months away, and any superstitious bad luck would surely have worn off by then. Sebastian leans in and gently presses his lips to Leander's. It's quick, so much so that if you blinked you might miss it, but it is easily the highlight of Leander's evening.

Perhaps it's a good thing he came to the ball after all.

[esmes]

don't mind me - just some rainy day musings bc sweeney todd 2023 has rotted my brain

someone's tags on a gifset got me thinking about 2023 revival lovett and todd and the special something their dynamic has. there's something about this particular iteration of these characters and their relationship, especially as we see it evolve throughout the show (even as we've seen it evolve throughout the show's run), that just makes mrs lovett's betrayal and her death at his hands hit hard. i know, i know - she deserves it. she lies! she's a lying liar. her deceit is no small thing. any one of us would be incensed to have been misled the way she misleads sweeney. even if a small part of her may have done it, as she says, to spare him having to see what became of his lucy, the larger part was certainly to serve her own interests.

but there's something about how close mrs lovett gets to bringing sweeney around to her this time that just gets me carried away. they're not just business partners - they're lovers, they're co-conspirators, and they're sort of each other's only friend in the world. at this point, he indulges her flights of fancy. they know each other intimately. they joke with each other! he's likely had to listen to countless hours of her prattling on about her thoughts, hopes, and wishes. this is a man who, at this point in the show, is slitting people's throats without remorse. and yet he spends the evening on the sofa cleaning his pipe while he patiently listens to his girlfriend rave about a seaside wedding. when she takes his hand, he doesn't wrench himself from her grasp like he used to. he doesn't get up and walk out, which he could do. he accepts her - her presence, her company, her warmth. he may struggle to admit it to himself, but he does. he can concede that he loves her - just a little bit, though he can't quite bring himself to say the words. sweeney is fiercely loyal to lucy's memory, so much so that he clearly couldn't ever wholly give his heart to someone else, but, in that moment after "by the sea", you can see that he's softened toward lovett. they were both alone a long time before this, after all.

it's not the stuff of great love songs, but it's something. it's almost enough.

this is what ultimately makes the final living moments between them all the more heartbreaking. mrs lovett has always been a sympathetic character to me - a villain, sure, but not without her reasons. she's a woman alone in a brutal world. whether the character is an older or a younger iteration, she's been alone for a desperately long time. when sweeney returns to her after all this time, she sees her moment and she takes it. she's not letting her second chance at life get away from her without a few claw marks.

when sweeney kills her, he sheds no tears over it - but the grudging fondness we'd seen him beginning to feel toward her only serves to emphasize how monstrous of a deception it is. his "you LIED to me" comes out in an anguished roar. when he throws her in that oven, all the light goes out from the world. it takes my breath away every time. though it should, it doesn’t quite feel like justice.

i know not everyone loves annaleigh's interpretation, but i have maintained from the first time i saw this revival that the warmth she brings, the honeyed, deluded, comical sweetness that lures sweeney into believing life with her could be tolerable, if not ideal, was a brilliant choice.

that's why the leap into hell together works for me. some productions have had sweeneys that barely tolerate their lovetts, so a cold diverging of paths makes sense. these two definitely fall into a different category. it makes sense to me for this sweeney and lovett's ultimate fate to be each other. who else would it be? lucy did nothing wrong - she's not going where he's going. having made lovett pay for her lies, they can head on down (hand in unlovable hand!!!!!!!) to live out the almost-enough life they created with each other. and sure, her chirping his ear off for eternity would certainly make an appropriate punishment for his crimes.

[aclowntiny]

Down the Drain- Barista!San x Female!Reader (College AU)

San has literally said he likes the idea of being a barista so here you go Sannie boy 😘😂 first time getting one of the boys as a barista hehe. Also, we’ve all had that professor 💀

Word Count: 2571 | College AU | Warnings: very slight language, me throwing in a blackpink reference cuz we love the bangers 😌

All your money was going to go down the drain. You couldn’t believe your campus had found yet another way to scam you. Yet you couldn’t really find it in yourself to complain this time. You knew they had to know exactly what they were doing, though. Whether it worker or not, your eyes were on them.

That day, you’d decided to make a rare stop at the campus café for a cold drink; it was just one of those days, a long one that could use a little refreshing pick-me-up, and you really didn’t take advantage of there being student baristas right around the corner of a big study floor enough. As per usual, the line was sort of long, but not out to the door, and you had a few hours of classes, so in went the airpods as you stood, trying not to stare at the girl in front of you’s bright pink backpack with its dangly Kuromi keychain the whole time. You did wonder where she got it from, though.

Two songs later, you were next, pulling your airpods out and popping them into your case as you glanced up toward the barista counter. And that was where you saw your campus’s latest scam.

Cafés hiring hot people was the biggest money pit ever and they knew it. The guy working the left register had your heart pounding the moment you laid eyes on him. He was average height with short dark hair, sharp eyes and even sharper cheekbones. The way his arms flexed from their rolled-up sleeves made you suspect he was quite fit beneath the oversized black button-up beneath his apron. As he waved to Kuromi girl, he gave a dazzlingly bright smile. Oh, no, he had dimples. Come on.

“I can help you right here.”

Snapping out of your reverie, you stepped forward to his register. San, his name was, according to the handwritten chalk name tag pinned onto his green apron fabric. Suddenly, you could hardly remember how to speak. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi.” There went that smile again. Sir, your mother must be proud. “What can I get started for you?”

“Oh, well, I…” Internally you cursed yourself for stuttering so much, but finally you remembered the name of your favorite iced drink.

“That’s a good one! Have you ever tried it with flavoring in it?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I haven’t.” You were a creature of habit, pretty much reciting the same thing every time you approached the register.

“You should! It’s so good!”

You asked him which one he recommended, and after he told you you inquired how much extra it was.

“Since you’ve never tried it and it’s my fault you are,” he chuckled, “I’ll just throw it in for free!”

And he wasn’t even a dickish frat boy. Great. “Wow, thank you!”

“Hey, it’s my pleasure, er…what’s your name?”

“It’s (y/n).”

“(y/n),” he repeats as he scribbles it on your cup and sets it down, and you hate that he even makes that sound good, “well, I hope you like your drink like this, (y/n)!”

“I’m sure I will,” you reply with a smile as you return San’s wave, heart leaping as he follows the gesture with running a hand through his shiny black locks.

Curse that café for making you spend money.

~

Two days later, you had the same class schedule, that same long break, and what the heck, why not see if San was working? It was kind of stupid how much you looked forward to the possibility of seeing him, you mused as you passed beneath the green rows of trees planted along the walkway, but that didn’t really change the feeling, so along you went with your stupid hopes of coinciding schedules.

The line was, once again, not quite to the door. Pretty good. This time, the girl in front of you had a blink hammer keychain, so you chatted with her for a bit. Apparently her name was Rina and she was an engineering major. Good for her. San called you up by the time you guys finished exchanging socials, mouth falling into an o shape the moment you stepped up.

Your heartbeat went erratic again, momentary friendship and engineering talk distracting you from preparing intelligent conversation like you told yourself you were going to.

“(y/n), right?”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh, uh, yeah. I can’t believe you remembered with all the people you see in a day!”

“I try to remember people. Plus, you tried my concoction, so that was extra memorable!”

Well, whatever made you memorable. “I’m good with names, too. I remember yours.”

He clapped a hand over his name tag. “What is it?”

“San!” You giggled.

“Be honest, was it the free add-in?”

You shook your head, grip tightening on your backpack straps. “I would have remembered anyway.”

Luckily, he smiled at that. “I’m glad. Well, what am I getting started today?”

~

There you were again. All your income going down the drain.

“Hey, (y/n)!”

“Hey, San!” You waved; your heart still had a few things to say about that dimpled smile and- as you saw on the day he wore a t-shirt, your suspicions confirmed- those arms, but by now you’ve become enough of a regular at the campus café that talking to the incredibly cute barista was practically part of your weekly assignments.

“Is it hot outside?”

“Not too bad,” you replied, “I think the weather people over-exaggerated. It’s, like, short sleeves and jeans weather.”

“Not long sleeves and shorts weather?” San teased.

“Short sleeves and jeans weather and long sleeves and shorts weather are different and you know it!”

San’s dark, shiny eyes drifted upward in thought. “You know what? They really are. Jeans one is more on the warm side, sleeves is more on the chilly.”

“See? Thank you. You appreciate me.”

“I always do, (y/n),” San agreed with a nod, setting your cup on the counter, “my favorite regular!”

“Oh, you have to say that to everyone,” you waved him off with a blush.

“I don’t have to say anything except ‘What can I get started for you?’”

“Well, thanks,” you giggled, pulling off to sit on the café couch and fake-scroll instagram while you snuck surreptitious glances at San.

Soon the harsh fluorescent institutional lights of your college’s building complex didn’t seem so bright, your focus having been centralized for a little too long. You’d ordered a drink with whipped cream on top, and the way the baristas deftly handled the compressed canisters, loading them into an actual whipped cream gun, made you almost want to become one.

Maybe you’d apply once that huge project for history was done. The next day, you planned on shopping for materials in order to build it at a table in the library on the following Monday. It was an insanely elaborate diorama that probably would have been more fun if the entire unit wasn’t crammed into two weeks’ time. You didn’t generally have any problems with your professor, but couldn’t help wondering if he’d lost his mind with that one.

Oh, well. If he wanted all those countries to have a ‘history tower’ as he called them, then you’d give him a history tower. The toweriest darn history tower he could ask for…or whatever would earn you praise and an A.

“(y/n)?” San’s voice cut through your historic reverie.

Shaking your head, you grabbed your backpack and rose from the couch once more, crossing the forest green tile floor to the drink drop-off. “Sorry, I was just thinking about assignments and stuff.”

“Oh, yeah, I totally get it, my dance class is getting intense with the choreographies we have to make. I almost gave someone who ordered a hot cocoa someone else’s strawberry smoothie earlier I was so distracted.”

Dance class? Choreography? At this point, it was practically a drinking game for ever time your brain dropped a wow. “Oh, that’s really cool. Mine’s just a history diorama,” you chuckle.

“On what?”

“The Netherlands of all places.”

“That’s so cool! I don’t know much about them, so maybe you can teach me.”

“I’ll do my best. It’ll be a crash course for sure- not exactly my specialty.”

“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll do great,” he told you warmly before his coworker handed him another drink; he gave you an apologetic glance. “I have a large cafe latte for Omar!”

You waved.

“See you next week,” he loudly whispered with a wink.

~

Next week was a bit different than your usual café run. This time, you’d been long situated at a library table, an intensely focused mess of glue, toothpicks, printed photos, paragraphs, drawings, plastic, and far, far too much more. You were going to build that tower until it broke you, then get some sugar, caffeine, and whatever adrenaline boost the glow in your heart from San gave you, then build some more. So far, it was murder to get the thing to stand despite its plastic supports. It was far later in the afternoon than you usually even got a drink, but such was a three-dimensional cultural history of the Netherlands.

“Aw, come on,” you muttered as a paragraph about Dutch paintings- Vanitas still lives, ironically- slid off its toothpick, “you were just fine a minute ago.”

It was sliding off the plastic dowels you were using to hold up the miniature spire. Sighing, you affixed it to a papier-mâché flower instead. This was ridiculous; you were busting your ass over basically a high school assignment all because your teacher wanted to send you off on your own for two weeks. Maybe, you thought venomously, he should have gotten caught up on grading papers so he could treat us like adults in return. Yeah, the fun had definitely leaked out of the project along with the last milliliter of glue, probably because it was individual. If you had a partner, you reflected as you crumpled more paper and cut another dowel.

Little did you know the effect that dowel would have on your day. As soon as you lifted your tower to insert it, a flower drifted ominously down. Your gaze softened. You blinked as a paragraph fell.

“No,” you whispered, but it was too late. The entire top decoration slid out along with the main support dowel, flopping miserably onto the table. Face crumpling, you joined it.

Bringing yourself to lift your head up was going to be hard. This was a whole day’s work down the drain. You just needed a good grade, wanted to do well and have something cute and fun, but all your energy had gone to-

“(y/n)?”

You peeled your face from between your crossed, horizontally-lain arms, despondent eyes falling upon San. You perked up slightly, getting your hair in place even if you could only muster a small smile. It didn’t escape your notice that he had a drink in each hand, but wasn’t wearing his apron. Maybe he had a date or a study session or something. If you weren’t already sad, you might’ve been at that.

“I saw how hard you were working on that,” he pouted, “I made you a drink to celebrate and everything.”

“You- you made that for me?” You asked, nodding toward what appeared to be your usual in his left hand.

“Of course. You’ve earned it. Working hard and all that.”

“Yeah,” you waved an arm over the carnage on the table, “but look at where that got me. I can’t believe I thought I had it.”

“Well,” San pushed back the chair next to yours, “I always say these things are more fun with a partner.”

“Right?” You started up your mental rant on your professor, this time verbally. “Like, what is he going to do with all these? Has he got space for them? Make these a two-person thing at least.”

“Well, he doesn’t have to know that yours is,” San winks at you, picking up a bottle of glue.

“You’re going to build this with me?”

“Sure,” he shrugs happily, “it looks fun, I’m off, and I said I wanted to learn about the Netherlands, right?”

“The skull paintings are probably the coolest part.”

“Ooh,” San stares down at the images, “emo.”

“Yet also spiritual.”

“And here I thought it was all tulips and windmills over there.”

You giggled softly at that, giving a little sigh before you picked up the center dowel. “Would you mind handing me the base, then?”

“Sure. Here, I’ll hold it down, you really jam that in there and I’ll reinforce it with the glue.”

“Ugh, that’s such a good idea,” you smacked your forehead, “why did I think the foam was enough?”

“Hey,” San put his hand on your shoulder, peering into your eyes, “it’s ok. It’s just a silly craft project.”

“Y- you’re right,” you replied, forcing yourself to stare as deeply back, even if you did blush.

“Well, I mean, your work isn’t silly, just the concept of-”

“You’re good. I know what you mean.”

~

An hour later, it was finished. The tower sat on the end of your table, keeping watch over you and San, you had his hands folded on the table as you told him your favorite embarrassing story of your eccentric great-grandfather.

“The mustard got in her glasses and everything!”

San doubled over, one hand slapping the table and the other falling onto your shoulder. You smiled in satisfaction, pausing to take a proud sip of your drink.

“And she stayed for the game?”

“Are you kidding? The office was paying for the tickets!”

“Oh, that’s great!” He laughed.

“I know.”

“We should go to a game,” San said, his eyes suddenly falling to the table as he played with his hands, “you know, at the campus stadium. Our baseball team has a game on friday. U-unless you're not comfortable with that, then my friend Jongho can come with us and-"

Your, surely baggy by now, eyes widened slightly, a smile rising back to your lips through your intent listening. "Not comfortable? Like, go as in a date?"

"We don't have to, though, we can totally just get a group to-"

"Tell Jongho I said he can stay home," you cut him off with a grin, joking to play off the backflips your ribcage was doing, especially when San smiled at you like that, I mean come on it's like you told him you were handing him his dreams and sheesh those dimples, "I mean, I don't even know him."

"Are you sure? Because he's one of my roommates, and he was building a Japan tower on our kitchen counter this morning."

"Oh. Well in that case, just tell him you found a girl who likes cute baristas."

This time, it was San's turn to blush, though he covered it by reaching for your hands, seemingly not caring about the glue splotches sullying your skin. "I- I will."

~

If you weren't already sure you made the right choice by San helping you secure an A on your project or the way he looked at you, you knew you did when he insisted on buying you a school mascot plushie and including it in your fieldside selfie together and when he practically tackled you into his arms upon hearing you confess that you only went to the café to see him.

[usefulquotes7]

Everyone should read this ❤️

The telephone rang. It was a call from his mother. He answered it and his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday."

Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.

"Jack, did you hear me?"

"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.

"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him.

"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.

"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said.

"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important. Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.

The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time. Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered.

Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture...Jack stopped suddenly...

"What'swrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.

"The box is gone," he said.

"What box?" Mom asked.

"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.

It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.

"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said.

"I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."

It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read.

Early the next day Jack went to the post office and retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention.

"Mr. Harold Belser" it read.

Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope.

Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.

"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filled his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.

Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, Thanks for your time! -- Harold Belser."

"The thing he valued most was my time!"

Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days.*

"Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.

"I need some time to spend with the people I love and say I care for," he said. "Oh, by the way, Janet, thanks for your time!"

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away."

Think about this. You may not realize it, but it's 100 percent true.

1. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way.

2. A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you.

3. Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.

4. You mean the world to someone.

5. If not for you, someone may not be living.

6. You are special and unique.

7. Have trust sooner or later you will get what you wish for or something better.

8. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good can still come from it.

9. When you think the world has turned its back on you, take a hard look: you most likely turned your back on the world and the people who love and care for you.

10. Someone that you don't even know exists loves you.

11. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks.

12. Always tell someone how you feel about them; you will feel much better when they know and you'll both be happy.

13. If you have a great friend, take the time to let them know that they are great.

To everyone who is reading this just now....

*"Thanks for your time."

[pigeonwhumps]

A look at what a BBU Tumblr dashboard might look like!

@bbu-on-the-side

CWs: BBU, pet whump, dehumanisation, everything that comes with that

🐢 turtleonhigh

As you start contemplating gifts for your loved ones, remember guys, a pet is for life, not just for Christmas! If you've never had a pet before, Domestics or Platonics are the best starter pets, but make sure to do your research thoroughly to keep your pet happy and healthy. Additionally, adopt, don't shop! There are so many pets desperately in need of loving homes. If you're insistent on purchasing from a supplier such as WRU rather than a shelter, choose refurbished. Give a pet the second chance they deserve!

🌟 thetruthinourstars

In Liberation this month: The shocking truth of WRU training away from prying eyes

🥸 bookworm420

https://www.liberation.com/20240423457899

(again. A year and a half after the first article and they're still having to expose it because no-one will listen...)

Oh come on, OP, everyone knows that's bullshit, spread by pet lib manipulators. Everyone: this is what bad actors look like!

🦀 just-a-crab

Sources?

#and before anyone leaps on me #i mean both of you #a reminder to always check where informations coming from

🍵 tea-and-pets

If prev was a pet, what would you give them as a little treat?

🐳 awhaleofatime

You guys are sick and perverted fuckers, I hope you know that

🌵 prickle

You're in the minority there mate

https://www.yougov.co.uk/topics/lifestyle/explore/HumanPets

🐳 awhaleofatime

🌞 sunshinestarlight

Stfu and let people have their fun, dude

#if you have nothing nice to say don't say anything at all #pet love #srsly dude leave us alone #polls

🐭 mouseandsammy

Sammy just adores his new outfit! Look at him go!

🌞 sunshinestarlight

❤️

🪶 fansofafeather

Ew, why am I getting WRU adverts on my dash constantly? Do I look like someone who would buy a pet to you?

🦴

Yes

🪶 fansofafeather

This was originally just a vent, but since you asked so nicely...

Does it help? Does it really?

Sources:

Stats show that 42% of vulnerable young people surveyed are scared of being picked up by WRU. Furthermore, spending on welfare in the UK has decreased by 26% over the past ten years, with ministers even saying that those who need help should become pets and go where they're wanted, where their "place" is. Vulnerable people need help, not encouragement to sign their lives away, and the pet industry isn't helping with that (even if you say that it isn't WRU's fault for merely existing, their adverts aren't glowing examples of a non-manipulative company).

I could go into way more detail, about the manipulation and propaganda, and what's been associated with them over the years, the politicians in their pockets holding up legislation that would hinder sign-ups, not to mention that this is actual, literal slavery, but I'll leave it here for now. If you're actually bothered you can ask, but I get the feeling you're not anyway.

How do you see your future? | YouGov

How do you feel about the alleged forced sign-ups by WRU and similar companies? | Liberation

Fact-check: Has welfare spending increased? | BBC Verify

Secretary for Work and Pensions overheard suggesting that welfare recipients "go where they're wanted" and become pets | The Guardian

WRU adverts 2000-2024 | National Archives

👯 pet-love

Callout post

Be aware. User @/sam-the-multifandom is an active member of the pet lib community, who has engaged in targeted harassment of pet owners and supporters. Evidence is in their top posts. Block and report, and spread the word to other members of the community so we can stamp out this disgusting behaviour.

👁️ eyesonthewall

Oh ffs OP. This is your evidence? Seriously? Stop lying and go back to the hole you crawled out of.

💗 nolongeracult

Proving OP's point right there. I'm former pet lib, and I can honestly say it's the most toxic community I've ever been a part of.

🍰 twopets-twocakes

Even more than the Star Wars fandom? 😝

💗 nolongeracult

YES

#pet love #their choice #petlib is toxic #love your pet #pet for life

[forget-you-morelike-fuck-you]

Heartwork- E.M. Pt. 2

I guess I should make it known that this fic is taking place in the Summer of 1991 around May/June just in case anyone was wondering. Love you all, Jess <3

1 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - Epilogue

Masterlist

You and Eddie go see a movie together.

TW- vague mention of drinking, cursing

Pairings- Eddie x Reader

Word Count- 1,581

(Gif not mine, credit to owner!)

You spend the day at your desk thumping your leg on the floor, not knowing why you’re feeling so anxious. Maybe it’s just because the night before, you were out so late with Eddie, and a little hungover. You shuffle your papers and try to stay focused on your work, but by the time the clock hits 5, you’re racing out the door, thankful that you can put your mind at rest for the rest of the day. You get yourself home and flop onto your couch to turn on your TV, but after a while, you find yourself flicking your eyes to the clock ticking on the wall every few minutes. Why are you so antsy today? 

Your heart leaps in your chest as the phone rings, and you jump up to get it. You pick it up and hold it to your ear. “Hello?”  

“Y/N! Honey! How are you?” It’s your mom.  

“I’m good! Just settling in,” You tell her. “Oh, guess who I ran into at the bar last night?”  

“Who? Was it Y/BFF/N!?” She asks excitedly.  

“No, apparently, she moved. It was Eddie! Eddie Munson!”  

“Oh! How is he? You know, he gave us a discount last year when your father needed to get his car fixed!” You smile at that. It’s so Eddie of him. 

“He’s good! Yeah, we just hung out and caught up all night. The bartender had to kick us out, actually.” You chuckle.  

“Oh, really?” Your mom laughs. She always used to tease you when your best friend and Eddie weren’t around. She thought you had a crush. Of course, even if you did, which you didn’t, there was no way you’d ever tell anyone. Eddie was Y/BFF/N’s. 

“Come on, mom! It’s not like that, and you know it! Eddie’s just a friend!” You assert, one hand going to your hip. 

“Well, all I’m saying, Y/N, is that Eddie is a very nice, caring young man. You could do a lot worse.” 

“Mom!” You laugh incredulously.  

“That’s all I’m saying! I’m done!” Your mom exclaims defensively. “Anyway, I was just calling to see if you want to come to dinner this weekend. I’m making pot roast, if you’d like some.”  

“Yeah, that would be great, mom. I’ll be there.”  

“Good! And if you see Eddie again, tell him I said hello. Bring him with you, if you want! I miss having all you kids around for dinner!” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. 

“I’ll think about it,” You mumble dryly, thinking of all the comments she’d make about the two of you. “I’ll talk to you later, mom. Love you.” 

“I love you too, sweetie. Have a good night.” You hang up the phone and breathe a sigh, looking to the clock again. 7:04. You feel your stomach grumble and trudge to the kitchen to find something for dinner. You decide on some chicken and a bag of frozen broccoli and start preparing it, turning on the radio to keep you entertained while you boil some water and season the chicken. After a little while, tongs in your hand as you prod the chicken in the pan, the phone rings again. You go to answer it, assuming your mom forgot to tell you something on your call a few minutes ago.  

“Hello?” 

“Y/N?” It’s Eddie. You smile. 

“Oh, hey, Eddie! What’s up?”  

“Not much, I just got home from work. Listen, I don’t know if you’d be interested, but me and a couple of friends are headed to the movies. We’re going to see Silence of the Lambs. You wanna come? It’s supposed to be really good.” He asks.  

“Yeah, sounds like fun! And it is, I saw it opening weekend a few months ago.”  

“Great! You wanna meet there or I can come pick you up if you want,” He offers.  

“I can drive, don’t worry about it. What time does the movie start?”  

“Eight.” You glance at the clock, just about 7:30 now. You’ll have to leave soon. “So, I’ll see you there?”  

You start smelling something burning, and gasp. Your dinner! “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ve gotta go, dinner’s burning! Bye!”  

“See you—” You feel bad as you slam the phone down and run to the kitchen, but it’s too late. The chicken is completely blackened. You take the pan off the burner and set it aside, fanning smoke away with your hand. You can eat after the movie, you decide, and so you scrape the chicken and broccoli into the trash before going to put on some clothes to go to the movie. 

Thankfully, the movie theater isn’t too crowded on a Monday night, and so you find Eddie easily among the passers-by. Next to him, you spot another curly haired man. He’s a bit shorter and his hair is a lighter brown, and as he turns around you see a familiar face, more matured, but you’d recognize that wide grin anywhere. “Henderson?!” You shout as you approach. He turns to look at you, his million-dollar smile on display as he sees you. You rush to him and give him a hug. You haven’t seen him since he was a freshman in high school, and now look at him. All grown up.  

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” You take his face in your hands, your heart swelling at seeing how much he’s grown. His head is above yours now, not by much, but it’s still a big difference from when you were in school together. 

“Oh, my god! Dustin, you’re so big! How are you!” He laughs as you step back.  

“I’m good! I’m home for the summer from NYU. I got into the engineering program there.” You roll your eyes, but you’re still smiling. 

“Of course, you did! I wouldn’t expect anything else, you brilliant man, you!” He waves a hand dismissively.  

“Oh, stop. I’m not that great. The competition is definitely tougher than it was here,” he says. 

“Oh bullshit!” Eddie interjects, arms crossed over his chest. “You were just telling me how you were working on a project with Motorola for a digital portable phone. That’s insane!” Dustin’s face flushes with red as Eddie turns to you. “He got into this internship as a freshman, which is apparently unheard of.” You beam with pride at Dustin, and another familiar face rounds the corner.  

“Hey, Gareth! How are you?” You wave. 

“I’ve been good! I’m getting married!” 

“I heard! What’s her name?” You can practically see his eyes turn into hearts at the mere thought of her. 

“Nicole,” he smiles. “We got together right after high school. Met her at a concert, actually. She’s great! You should come meet her sometime!” You nod. 

“I’d love to! Maybe we can get the gang back together for a Hellfire sesh,” You suggest.  

“Oh, man. I haven’t played in so long. College keeps you busy,” Dustin laughs, and you nod.  

“Don’t I know it!” You all laugh. You glance at the clock, and it’s almost time for the movie to start. “I’m gonna go grab my ticket and something to eat. I didn’t get to eat my dinner earlier. You turn to walk toward the ticket stand, but Eddie stops you. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got your ticket,” he says, pulling two out of his jacket pocket. You raise your eyebrows in surprise, taking one from his hand. 

“Oh, thanks,” You say smiling. “Well, since you got me my ticket I think it’s only fair I buy the popcorn.” Eddie shrugs.  

“Well, I haven’t eaten dinner yet either. If you want, we can just go somewhere after.” You nod eagerly. 

“Can we go to the diner? I’ve been craving a good burger.” Eddie laughs, both of you start walking behind Dustin and Gareth toward the theater room.  

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” You suddenly remember the conversation with your mom from the dinner talk, and you giggle. Eddie looks down at you in question. “What?” 

“My mom called me a few minutes before you did. I told her I ran into you last night at the bar and she wants to know if you want to come to dinner this weekend. She’s making pot roast.” Eddie laughs as he takes the door from Dustin’s hand, allowing you to go in first.  

“Yeah, that sounds great. I miss having dinner at your place. Your parents have always been so nice to me.” You remember the days when most of the town hated people like you and Eddie. The outcasts, the freaks. Your house was always a sanctuary, and Eddie’s. Y/BFF/N’s parents, on the other hand, they were cordial, but they weren’t… warm, like your parents and Wayne.  

“Yeah, my mom mentioned you gave my dad a discount last year when you worked on his car.” You walk up the steep steps to find a good seat at the top, toward the center of the row next to Dustin and Gareth.  

“Ah, yeah I think I remember that. It’s the least I could do, really, for raising my best friend, and all.” He shrugs as he sits next to you. You grin at him, nudging his shoulder with yours.  

“So, I’m your best friend, huh?” Eddie shifts but doesn’t lose his easy smile as he looks back at you.  

“Of course, you are. Always have been.” You look down at your hands as heat rushes your cheeks. Then, the previews start, making both of you look toward the screen. 

@corrodedcoffincumslut @haylaansmi

[dgalerab]

The thing that haunts him for years to come is that Yamada is already dead when he and Shirakumo start celebrating.

In retrospect, the way he and Shirakumo whoop and shriek and bound to each other and grip each other's arms, screaming, "You did it! I did it!" sickens him. He doesn't remember later where it happens, but Shirakumo grips his head and shouts, "Hizashi is going to be so proud of you!" and he remembers the warmth that had filled him imagining Yamada's sly grin and the sparkling anticipation of awaiting his praise, and it twists his insides into knots whenever he does.

He doesn't remember the specifics of finding out as well, which feels like an odd betrayal for some reason. Someone puts Yamada's bloody shades in his hands, though he doesn't remember if it's Sensoji or Shirakumo. He doesn't remember crying, though he knows his face is wet with tears when Shirakumo gently leads him home, tells him they need to get out of the rain before he catches a cold.

The next thing he remembers clearly years later when he thinks back on it, is the suffocating quiet of class a few days later, when he and Shirakumo go back after a few days of suffocating in their homes because UA had let them take a few days to recover.

Everyone is extra quiet around them, and Shirakumo speaks to him softly and gently whenever he does, and Shouta can't remember thinking back what he'd whispered to him when he'd finally snapped, just remembers kicking his desk over and leaping at Shirakumo with a scream, the way he'd shouted, "Stop FUCKING whispering at me!!!" even though they were in the middle of class and it made no sense.

And Shirakumo, a good few centimeters taller than Shouta, had loyally picked him up and pulled him into a crashing tackle and screamed back, "At least I'm saying something!"

From there it had devolved mostly into guttural and incoherent screaming, snarling, crashing against desks as they rolled and palmed at each other's faces, unwilling to genuinely fight but unable to stop.

They'd gotten detention of course, though their teachers were sympathetic when doing it, and had surreptitiously left the room during it.

"Why did you let me do that," Shouta had said, face down on the desk.

"I thought we'd both feel better if we raised our voices," Shirakumo had said. "I guess I was a little relieved when you did."

"We should have been there," Shouta had said. "Somehow."

And Shirakumo had paused, and Shouta always wonders, but never asks, what he'd been considering then. "He loved you," he'd said, finally, and for years to come Shouta won't know if he's glad he had or if he wished he hadn't. "So much. He wouldn't have wanted you blame yourself."

"Shut up," Shouta had said. "Don't say that to me."

"He was my best friend," Shirakumo had said. "And I'll say it if I want. He loved you, he really did."

---

A dozen or so screaming matches later, they start an agency together.

Shirakumo hangs a signed picture of Yamada on the grainy sound system they have in their office - something Yamada had given him with a grin back in the day, "for when his autograph cost an arm and a leg."

Shouta tells him the sound quality is awful and that Yamada would have been disgusted at being associated with that thing. Shirakumo pouts at him and reminds him they can't afford better.

Shouta spends his first paycheck on better speakers.

Shirakumo dates dozens of people. He loves dating. Shouta doesn't date any.

He finds a sort of melancholy comfort in knowing his love life ended before it had a chance to begin. It's one less thing to worry about.

He starts teaching a few years into hero work, the moment that UA will accept him. He knows he has one thing no other teacher does - the ability to remind students not to rely on their Quirks too much.

Shirakumo follows after the next year, and Kayama the year after him.

Shouta doesn't know if Yamada would have enjoyed teaching, but the three of them toast to him every time they go out drinking together.

---

The year All Might starts teaching is different.

Unsurprising - after all, the Number One hero teaching is a big deal.

But it's also the students - some of the most promising and most insane he's seen in all his years of teaching. A pack of absolutely feral lion kittens.

Shouta's never been willing to let a single one of his students get hurt in ways they couldn't recover from, but he's more protective of this bunch than the ones he's had before.

So of course he jumps right into the fray when they're attacked. Of course he takes on the villains head on, not only to protect his students, but to make sure they know they're being protected. Of course he ignores the rending scream that splits apart the ground of USJ, scattering his students, despite the chill that runs through him at it.

It's not like voice quirks are that rare, and it doesn't take that much research to know he went to school with Yamada, and the internet is full of clips of his voice. Besides, Shouta tells himself, in the split second he allows himself to catch his breath between punches, that's not how he sounded. It's too animal, not enough style.

It's a nasty fucking trick, though, and Shouta lets it fuel his punches and kicks. The longer he can stay focused and keep as many villains as possible distracted, the more time it gives his students to regroup and deal with the situation.

They're fresh and inexperienced, but they're capable. Shouta just needs to give them the chance to survive.

He can only hope he gives them enough before he's taken down by the Nomu. As long as his students make it out, whatever happens to him is fine.

"One of the little brats made it out," a voice comes.

It's a good imitation, Shouta will admit. There's a rattling, manic edge to it, a shuddering vibration that shivers down his spine, like a voice echoing through a dark cavern as its owner closes down on its prey, but beneath that - gods, it does sound like him.

He struggles to lift his head from where he's being twisted into the ground, arms pulled back and shattered, but now that he's all but done for, he can't help it. Has to confirm to himself that it's not--

The air freezes in his chest.

Green eyes blaze out at him from behind a curtain of long, sallow blonde hair. Greenish scars twist over its - his? - face as he grins, predatory and wild.

Races over like a dog noticing a chewtoy.

"What's this pretty thing?" it croons, and that grotesque rattle shakes through his body like a building storm, with a terror that nearly makes him scream.

A cold, slimy tongue licks up his face. His blood runs cold and he has to clamp down on a terrified sob.

This can't be real. It's a trick, a fake...

Clawed fingers skim over his hair, down the sides of his face, a horrible mockery of tenderness.

"Hey. Drop it. Bad dog," the head villain growls.

The creature hisses at him, grips Shouta's chin possessively.

The villain snaps at him, a sulking child. "Stupid thing." He gives a little noise of discontent, then sighs, and...

He lunges quickly.

Shouta only has a split second to activate his quirk before he grabs Asui.

He has to protect his students. That's all he can think about now. The students.

The Nomu pulls him back and slams him into the ground with enough force to crack the concrete.

As the blackness rushes in to claim him, he thinks he can hear the creature howl in protest.

He loved you, Shouta can hear Shirakumo saying, before he loses consciousness entirely. He really did.

[nitewrighter]

Do you think that the other characters forget Efi is only 12 (I think). Like she and Torbjorn spend the day going over super complicated schematics (and she even corrects him once or twice) then she puts on Power Puff Girl pajamas, watches Bluey while eating ice cream before bed? Could we get some fanteractions between her and the others?

I don't know if I discussed it on twitter or on here, but actually in the novel The Hero of Numbani, one of the things I thought was a really cute little world-buildy touch about how Efi interacts with the world at her age is that she often finds herself in these adult spaces, and the adults around her are drinking coffee, and they're like "uhhhh here" and they keep giving her coffee that's like... 50% milk and loaded with sugar--like it's clear they didn't really expect a kid to be in this situation and they're awkwardly doing what they can to try and accommodate her, and she partially recognizes that and also pushes boundaries and feels this need to prove herself.

Also like, 12 isn't really a "powerpuff girl pajamas and Bluey" age, 12 is like.. the age where you semi-convince yourself that you could probably stop arterial bleeding with your little bare 12-year-old hands if the situation called for it. 12 is when you're in a fucked up simultaneous state of "World is big and scary and my body is starting to do things I did not give it permission to do and I'm not ready" and also "I'm Nancy Drew levels of hypercompetent and you can't stop me." Ideally, 12 is where you're starting to push your own boundaries more and more but you're also kind of struggling with the fact that you are outgrowing things you used to really care about. You aren't quite at that asshole stage of "expanding independence but with very little concept of consequences" yet, but it is an age where you are grasping more and more complex concepts. But also your brain is still struggling to really make a leap into abstract/symbolic thinking, which is why algebra really sucks at that age. But again, Efi is a super-genius so developmentally she's at an even crazier intersection of what she can and can't do compared to her peers.

I got off track. Anyway here's Efi interactions.

----

Sojourn: ...You um, you don't have to stand all the way over there. I don't bite.

Efi: *awkwardly shuffles toward her*

Sojourn: ...

Efi: ...

Sojourn: Soooo---?

Efi: *hoarse whisper* You're so much cooler than in the cartoons.

Sojourn: *snrk* I was this cool the whole time.

---

Sojourn: So, I guess I should say, there's really no pressure here. If you did choose to join us, you would just be here as a consultant, and--*deep breath* Okay, the thing is, with Liao gone, you're actually one of the leading minds in the world on AI learning systems, and the way things are with Null Sector, we need to be better at anticipating their next moves. I don't want to put that pressure on you, but given everything you and Orisa have done for Numbani, your willingness to work with Lúcio before, and the position we're currently in, we would be honored if we could get your perspective on certain pieces of intel we have now.

Efi: ...

Sojourn: I get it, it's a very scary situation, and if you just want to stay with your parents and the rest of the civilians, we'll still do everything in our power to keep you safe. Orisa is proving to be an incredible asset on her own. Really, Lúcio just remarked that you seemed very passionate about protecting your home, so if you would be interested in the chance to do that on a larger scale--

Efi: Do I have access to the armory?

Sojourn: Eh--?

Efi: Oh it's not for me, it's for Orisa.

Sojourn: Uhm...

Efi: :)

Sojourn: *clicks tongue* Um--You know what? I'm going to call your parents because there are about 90 more parameters in this situation I need to figure out.

Efi: Oh! They're fine with me having access to the armory.

Sojourn: Yeeahhh I think i'm going to ask them myself.

[findafight]

I don’t know enough about basketball, so I’m gonna “Yes and!”

Sue also played basketball in college (Lucas takes after her!) - Charles was her loudest supporter. Steve finds it all very romantic, even more so when asking Charles why he doesn’t join them at the games; “What would be the point? I’m married to the best”.

Okay, so; the whole fam (and Steve) go to an all day equestrian event (or maybe a fair that has like a day of horse events? Don’t know how this works in the US in the 1980s). There’s show-jumping, dressage, the works. They all enjoy the show jumping (although Sue is throwing Significant Looks whenever any of the horses stumble, or knock down one of the hurdles). Erica is the only one who enjoys the dressage; Lucas finds it boring and Charles…respects the skill(?), but the heated conversation the two men sitting front of them are having about the “blood rule” is making him a little uneasy. Meanwhile, Steve briefly drops into a fugue state upon realising that he recognises one of the rider’s coaches as That Bastard who was briefly engaged his aunt (one of the ones that he *likes*) and was two-timing her the entire time and spends the rest of the event relaying the story to Sue.

It is every bit as juicy and scandalous as she hoped, although she is a little perturbed that all the details that Steve has isn’t stuff that he was filled on when he was older, but stuff he knew as it was happening when he was like seven or eight (“my family doesn’t believe in talking down to children”).

Later when they’re going to get dinner Lucas is complaining that the dressage was boring (Sue is giving Charles the Cliff Notes, promising to fill in the details later), Steve remarks that maybe the3y should see a polo game some time. This gets him roundly mocked by the whole family, Lucas informing him that “That is the richest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth”.

Erica initially joins in, but has to have clarification on what it actually is (she was thinking of Lacrosse). Upon hearing that there is a sport in which she could ride a horse while wielding a mallet, Erica Knows what she wants to do with her life (or at least her next D&D character). She is *gutted* to hear that it in fact is not a contact sport.

(Last time, I promise. X)

College basketball legend Sue Sinclair!!! wait wait i got something

I like the hc that people around town knew who Steve was (like the party in s1 who have no reason to know who he is) is that he was a little sports star in his early high school career. Let's give that to Sue too! Hers was in college but it locked her in as a legend for her tenure at the school. Sporty little guys!! Sue being so excited to play with Lucas and sometimes Steve and chatting to Steve about how their teams are doing or what position Lucas would be best suited for!! Charles is watching and going 🥰

Steve just. Dishing Harrington family gossip to Sue is so good. He probably knows half of it because his family "doesn't believe in talking down to children" as you said but also the other half is because either his mom talked all about it over the phone and had forgotten little twelve year old Steve was sitting in the same room OR he hid and eavesdropped. And a few years later his Aunt got drunk and gave him more deets.

(Sue is eating UP the weird rich people gossip. keeps her mind off the fact there are large animals that are capable of severely hurting the people around them easily. She cannot wait to tell Charlie!)

Suggesting polo is such a rich person thing and Steve would make the logical leap of horse sports and more exciting than watching horses move slowly around. Polo becoming a silly little inside joke suggestion between Lucas and Steve and Erica. like "Hmm why don't we try...polo?" >:3

"Yuck it up sinclair..." they are so funny.

Erica thinking for a moment Polo is a sport on horses in which you use mallets to both hit a ball and beat up the other players....... incorporating that into another dnd character...... she's so powerful. no one should ever let her ride a horse anywhere near anything resembling a hammer or mallet.

[saras-devotionals]

Quiet Time 3/4

What am I feeling today?

Sick/pain, my throat hurts even more today, I can’t really swallow, looks red and swollen, I’ll be going to the doctor after I spend this time with God. I’m also feeling confused, conflicted, hopeful??? bc of smth that happened yesterday and some dreams I had too, just not sure how to interpret it🧍🏻‍♀️

Luke 6 NIV

(v. 1-5) “One Sabbath Jesus was going through the grainfields, and his disciples began to pick some heads of grain, rub them in their hands and eat the kernels. Some of the Pharisees asked, “Why are you doing what is unlawful on the Sabbath?” Jesus answered them, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry? He entered the house of God, and taking the consecrated bread, he ate what is lawful only for priests to eat. And he also gave some to his companions.” Then Jesus said to them, “The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.””

Jesus was making it known that he and his disciples were not guilty of violating the Sabbath (just some of the rules that the Pharisees had come up with). Also, he staked his claim of his power, that he’s Lord even on the Sabbath.

(v. 12-16) “One of those days Jesus went out to a mountainside to pray, and spent the night praying to God. When morning came, he called his disciples to him and chose twelve of them, whom he also designated apostles: Simon (whom he named Peter), his brother Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James son of Alphaeus, Simon who was called the Zealot, Judas son of James, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor.”

I love when the Bible shows us just how much Jesus prayed. Even though he was powerful and righteous, he still felt the need to talk to God the Father consistently because Jesus was also human. Also, I don’t think I ever took into account that Jesus had more disciples but chose these twelve out of them to be the apostles.

(v. 22-23) “Blessed are you when people hate you, when they exclude you and insult you and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man. “Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.”

Good reminder to have, sometimes I can get in my head about rejection when it comes to sharing with other people, I can lack boldness and courage because of fear. But why should I fear that? We are told to rejoice and be joyful!!

(v. 27-31) ““But to you who are listening I say: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone slaps you on one cheek, turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you.”

When I was younger, I always thought that the term to turn the other cheek was to strike them back. Upon looking at other versions, I’m seeing it means to offer the other cheek (basically, to simply ignore insignificant insults or losses and do not bother to retaliate—maintain your dignity). I do wonder if there’s a difference between what Jesus is saying here and allowing people to walk all over you and treat you however they please?

(v. 35-36) “But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.”

One, I feel like the motivation behind doing good shouldn’t be an incentive but because you genuinely desire to do what’s right. But it also shows here that in doing what’s kind and righteous, our reward will be great.

(v. 37-38) ““Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you…””

I need to work on judgement. I know that I can be quite judgmental, questioning people’s motives/intentions, how they operate, how they treat me or others. But I do understand that I need to refrain from judgment because what about me? I am no better, I am a sinner, I’m not perfect. How can I judge others when I’m no better than them?

(v. 39-42) “He also told them this parable: “Can the blind lead the blind? Will they not both fall into a pit? The student is not above the teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like their teacher. “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”

I don’t wish to be a hypocrite. This is also part of being held accountable, sometimes we’re oblivious to the sin we’re in and need the help of others. But also, if we struggle ourselves, and give the same advice to others but don’t follow, we’re being hypocrites.

(v. 45) “A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.”

This really sticks out to me, the mouth speaks what the heart is full of. Kinda like the saying drunk words are sober thoughts. Whatever we end up saying is coming from somewhere inside. We need to analyze whether it’s righteous or sinful. If sinful, need to further examine our hearts and where it’s coming from.

(v. 46-49) ““Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say? As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice, I will show you what they are like. They are like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete.””

I want to have a strong foundation. I like to believe that I follow relatively well but there are other times when I doubt whatever I do. It’s this frustrating up and down and I just wish I knew what the right thing to do was every time and actually obeyed it.

[butterflyintochains]

First Winter In Vancouver

After a long and eventful 2024 season, Gabriella decides to stay home in Vancouver over the end of the year. Longing for two months uninterrupted with her boyfriends, Elias Pettersson and Quinn Hughes. The newest World Number Eleven is happier than ever, content to be a girlfriend for a while, and relax with her little family. Even better, she's finally going to be attending her first ever Canucks Game soon!

tw: anxiety, some elements of sexism, some slight bigotry, and some usual people being idiots. Nothing too heavy, but just so you're aware.

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

The jet lag took a few days to iron itself out. Riyadh to Vancouver flights should be illegal in so many ways. But, Gabriella is happy to be home in Vancouver, the city she has fallen head over heels for so quickly. She has her cats, her dog, and her boyfriends, so what's not to love about this place? Gabriella wakes up at nine, alone in bed, not ideal, but she knows why. Arwen leaps up on the bed next to her, she says. ''Good morning, baby.'' Of the quartet, Arwen is her alarm clock. She gets up, and goes for a shower. After that, she brushes her teeth, does her hair, and gets some makeup on. Her clothes for today are black skinny jeans, a Lacoste polo, and one of her tennis cardigans. Arwen and Atticus follow her down to the living room, where there's a note from the boys on the coffee table.

For when you get up, Ella. The cats and Finn are fed, we're at morning skate, we love you. Elias and Quinn.

Gabriella nods, and smiles, touching her necklaces. Quinn's emerald and Elias' sapphire never leave her neck. She grabs some breakfast, and eats while watching some TV. Legolas leaps up onto her lap, Daenerys not far behind him. ''Hello, my little loves, I missed you too.'' Finn, the trio's adorable new Aussie Shepherd puppy, sits at her feet. The pets have been lovingly named 'The Whistler Zoo' on social media. ''Hello to you too, Finn.'' Gabriella looks up at the shelves for their awards, her trophies from Dubai, Rosmalen, and Tokyo sitting pride of place. Her runner up trophies from Toronto and Beijing right next to them. She did so well this year. There's also her tennis bags to sort out, but that can wait.

After breakfast, she laces up her boots, and puts her coat on after calling an Uber to take her to Thunderbird Centre. It's rare that she has nothing to do of a day, and she wants to spend it with her boys. They arrive, the driver says. ''There you are, miss. That'll be 12 dollars.''

She pays him, and smiles. ''Thank you, sir.'' She gets out of the car, and hoists her bag onto her shoulder before heading inside. She hopes practice is open today. The place is still a bit maze like to her, but she finds the rink. The boys are working hard on some drills, Gabriella sits down in sight of the benches, trying not to draw too much attention to herself. She's already in awe of the synergy between Elias and Quinn on ice, it's as if they can read each other's thoughts. There are still so many members of the team she doesn't know. She met JT, Thatcher, and Brock in Toronto. Brock, Dakota, Conor, and Nils came to Wimbledon. But, that's about it. Tocchet says, in full coach-mode. ''Good work, boys! Petey, beautiful handling, keep it going.'' He addresses the rest. ''Six laps and go shower!''

After training is over, Gabriella goes to meet the boys in the common area. Elias greets her first, zipping his team jacket up before hugging her. ''Hi, Angel.'' Elias says.

Gabriella leans up to kiss him. ''Hi, sweetheart.'' She asks him about their boyfriend. ''Where's Quinn?'' Elias kisses her cheek, and goes to grab some lunch. ''Media duties.'' They sit down at a table together, and talk while Elias eats. Finally, Quinn comes through, face lighting up. ''Good to see you, Angel.'' He leans over to kiss her. Gabriella never feels quite right just kissing one of them. ''Good to be here, honey.'' Quinn goes to grab some lunch, and sits with them both. Gabriella also hugs Brock and Conor. ''You guys looked amazing out there today.''

Brock flashes her a big smile. ''Thank you very much, Ella.'' Dakota asks her. ''You comin' to the game on sunday?''

Gabriella helps herself to some tuna and salad with a small portion of pasta. Daniel would kill her if she wasn't eating regularly. ''Yeah, I'm very excited!''

JT promises her. ''We'll make sure to win it for you, Ella. The Sharks won't stand a chance.'' Gabriella laughs, and eats her lunch. Truth be told, her excitement is mixed with more than a little bit of dread. The other ladies will be there too, it's them she's afraid of more than anything. Not that her boys will get to know that. Elias and Quinn introduce her to the guys she hasn't met yet. ''Fil, this is our girlfriend, Canadian number one tennis player: Gabriella Lemieux. Ella, this is my d-partner, Filip Hronek.''

She politely shakes his hand, she's heard good things from Quinn about Hronek. ''Good to meet you, Filip.'' Elias introduces her to his linemates, Danton Heinen and Daniel Sprong. ''Good to finally see who these two always talk about.'' Teddy Blueger jokes.

Gabriella laughs, sitting back down at the table. ''That's what my friend, Felix, said this summer when we were at Wimbledon. You can all call me 'Ella' if you want, by the way.'' She's blown away with how nice and respectful they all are to her. Treating her as a friend right away, and asking her about her tennis career.

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

The night before gameday, the trio are fast asleep in bed, Gabriella curled up with her head on Elias' chest, and Quinn's arms around her waist from behind. Their pets all asleep in their beds as well. Gabriella's hand tightens around Elias' shirt, rousing him from sleep. The house is quiet, Quinn is in a deep sleep, but Gabriella is breathing quickly, He gently strokes her cheek, bringing her out of whatever nightmare she was having. ''Hey, Gabriella, it's okay, what was it?'' He whispers to her, hoping Quinn doesn't wake up. Gabriella blinks a few times, drying her eyes. ''Just a bad dream, Elias.''

Elias asks, wanting to know what's causing her such pain. ''What about?''

Gabriella says, sniffling. ''It's so stupid. But, we were all hanging out after the game, and the wives and girlfriends of the others would not stop calling me a 'whore' and a 'slut', saying I was a 'freak' for dating both of you.'' She stops to breathe, her mind racing a mile a minute. ''And, you two weren't there, so no one stopped them.''

Elias kisses her forehead, helping her calm down. Somehow, Quinn is still asleep, but, not even a bomb exploding could wake him up. ''We'll have a talk with the boys, angel, we won't let anyone hurt you, promise.''

Gabriella whispers. ''Thank you.'' In time, they get back to sleep, joining Quinn in slumber again.

They have a slower morning, relaxing together with their pets and a movie. After lunch, the boys go for a pre-game nap, and Gabriella walks Finn. She so wishes Leylah and Bianca were here, for familiar hands to hold during the game. The boys come down in their game suits. Looking unfairly handsome. Gabriella will be getting ready a bit later. ''Okay, babe, we'll see you later.'' Quinn says, hugging her tightly, and kissing her. ''Can't wait to see you, angel.'' Elias says, and kisses her. Gabriella says to them, holding their hands in hers. ''Play well, stay safe, don't get in trouble. I love you both, and I'll see you very soon.''

They say in unison. ''We love you too.'' They go out to the car together. Gabriella uses the two empty hours to check some work emails, some stuff from her sponsors, and an early form she needs to fill out about her early quarter schedule. All of that can be done later. So, after a quick dinner, she goes to wash her hair, and put some makeup on. She opts for black tights with a black collared pencil dress and her leather jacket with heeled boots. ''Here goes nothing, kids.'' She says to their pets.

She gets an Uber down to Rogers Arena, finding herself intimidated by the sheer size of the place. She takes the ticket and pass out of her purse, and gets into the concourse. She grabs some water and a chocolate bar - the one sweet thing she allows herself. Gabriella goes to find her seat, in the family and friend section. She texts Daniel, in need of her second-dad.

Gabriella: Danny, I'm at the game, and I'm scared.

He texts back, the boys must have filled him in on her dream last night.

Best Coach: Deep breaths, kiddo, you're going to be fine. If anyone says anything to you, you tell them every way they're wrong, okay?

Taking deep breaths, Gabriella nods to herself, and texts back.

Gabriella: Will do. Love you, Danny.

He replies quickly.

Best Coach: Love you too, kiddo.

The other wags file in with their kids and some Canuck parents. Gabriella gives some of the ladies a shy smile. It's so strange, she's so confident on a court, nothing can bend her, and even less breaks her. Here, she's unsure and shy. Surrounded by people she's certain hate her and all she represents. ''Ella! Hi, Ella!'' JT Miller's daughter, Scarlett, runs up to her, bringing her out of her head. ''Hi, Scarly, you've gotten big since I last saw you! And, I love your braid, did mama do it for you?''

Scarlett nods. ''Uh huh, it's your braid too!'' It is her braid, the braid she wears her hair in for tournaments. ''She insisted on it, so did Scotty.'' Natalie says, sitting next to her. ''You look pale, are you okay?''

Gabriella nods. ''Just a bit... nervous being around the team's families, I'm not exactly... normal, y'know?'' She says, she likes Natalie, and trusts her too. ''Depends on how one defines 'normal', sweetie. My normal and your normal are different. Yours is Elias and Quinn, and that's okay.'' Gabriella nods, and admits while watching the boys skate out for warm-ups. ''I just don't want you all treating me differently, I get enough of that from the press, and I'm sick of it.'' Michela Myers says. ''Well, with us, you're part of the family.''

The game gets underway, Gabriella singing the national anthem with the kids. Brock gets them on the board early, Gabriella cheers for her friend. Halfway through the first, Quinn wires a pass to Elias, who takes the shot from the circle. ''That's my boys!'' Gabriella cheers for them. Late into the period, JT and Danton both notch goals to close the period 4-0. ''Liking your first game so far, Gabriella?'' Brock's girlfriend, Bella, asks. Gabriella nods, finishing her chocolate. ''Yeah, totally different vibe to tennis matches too.''

The second period begins, and the team increase their lead quickly with a goal from Quinn to make it 5-0, and another from Teddy not too long after for 6-0. One of the Sharks scores late into the period for 6-1. During intermission, the announcer for the arena says. ''Tonight, Canucks Nation, we have a very special person in this arena. World Number eleven and Canadian number one: Gabriella Lemieux!'' Her face flashes up on the jumbotron, Gabriella stands and waves to the cheering crowd. Taking her seat again with shaking legs.

The third is a bit dry until the tenth minute, when DeBrusk nets a beauty to open scoring for 7-1, and another one of the Sharks scores another for 7-2 a minute later. ''Come on, boys.'' Gabriella says. In the dying minutes, Elias scores on a breakaway to close the game 8-2. ''That was amazing.'' Gabriella says to Natalie.

Natalie laughs, watching Scarlett take Gabriella's hand. ''Yeah, something tells me Quinn and Elias insisted they win for you.'' They go backstage together with the other ladies. After media is over, Natalie and the kids run over to JT. ''I love the braids, girls, did mama do them?''

Scotlyn nods excitedly. ''Yeah! Now we look like Ella!'' Gabriella laughs, informing her older friend. ''I'm touched, really, I am.'' Elias and Quinn come in, lips puffy from what must have been a post-game kiss of their own. Gabriella kisses them both, and says. ''Fantastic game, my loves.''

Quinn says, smiling brightly. ''All for you, angel.'' Elias keeps his hand on her back, and says. ''They never stood a chance with you here.'' Scarlett asks her daddy. ''Uhm, daddy, why did Ella kiss both Huggy and Petey?'' Gabriella grips Quinn's hand and Elias' bicep tighter.

JT says to the little crowd of kids who have congregated around him at Scarlett's question. ''You know how I kiss mommy because I love her?'' Scarlett nods, JT says. ''Ella kisses Huggy and Petey because she loves them. And, Huggy and Petey kiss because they love each other, and they love her.''

The boys help their shaking girlfriend sit down. ''How can she love both of them, daddy?'' Scotlyn asks.

Gabriella explains in a child friendly way, the same way she did for her nephew back in Montreal when he asked her about how this worked. ''Some people want one cookie with their milk, just like your moms and dads do. Some want two, just like myself, Quinn, and Elias do.'' She hopes the kids understand this analogy, it worked on Mathieu. Little Tristan Myers says, seemingly getting it right away. ''Oh, okay, cool!''

After some time with the team, the trio drive home together. Gabriella needs to get herself a new car at some point, she sold her car before the move, and it's high time she gets a new one. Once home, the boys eat, and they get into comfortable clothes. Atticus leaps up onto Gabriella's lap after she sits on the couch. ''Hello, baby.'' She says, scratching him behind his ear as he likes. ''Well, tonight went better than I thought it would.'' Quinn says, crashing in an armchair with Legolas in his lap.

Elias nods, playing with Finn on the sofa next to Gabriella. ''It did, that 8-2 win was so much better than I expected.'' Gabriella nods, and says. ''Perfect score for the game too. I'm also glad nobody was mean to me tonight.'' She admits as Arwen and Daenerys curl up next to her.

Quinn says, seeming pleased with that. ''Good, you deserve to be treated with respect, and nothing less.'' Elias adds, leaning over to kiss her on the head. ''I'm glad you feel safe at our games.''

They head to bed together, this time Gabriella rests her head on Quinn's chest, he's always warm and his heartbeat calms her down. While Elias holds her from behind, he's the tallest, and the biggest of them. They are both her comfort and safety.

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

A couple of days pass, the boys are on a four game roadtrip to Colorado, Minnesota, Chicago, and Detroit before a homestay. So, Gabriella is alone at home for a while with their pets. She deals with her emails, filing her first quarter schedule to the tour: Melbourne, Doha, Dubai, and the Sunshine Double. Then, she drags her tennis bags out of the closet to sort through them. She takes her unstrung racquets out, and unwraps the grips. Daenerys seems to like playing with her discarded grip tape. ''Is that fun, Dany?'' She pets her youngest cat on the neck as she likes. The racquet frames will go in the sink later. She tests some sharpies, and chucks them all out. Her tennis clothes go in the laundry hamper, her shoes go in the coat room. Her mini skincare kit will be refreshed, as will her mini first-aid kit. Thankfully, her water bottles are in the kitchen cupboard, and there's no food or energy bars left in the bags. She finds her good luck charm section. She carries four good luck items on her: her first racquet, a family photo, a small Montreal flag, and her nana's rosary. Those stay put. Finally, some dead tennis balls. ''Finn, come here, boy!'' She calls their puppy over. ''Finn, see this, buddy?'' She asks him, holding a tennis ball, he gets excited. ''Go, fetch!''

He runs after the ball, and dutifully brings it back to her, with a small bark that startles Atticus. ''Good boy, Finn!'' Fetching has been the hardest trick for him, apparently because of his breed. Gabriella gives him a small treat. She plays fetch with him for a bit longer. Atticus gives a miffed meow, Gabriella gives her eldest a kiss. ''I love you too, Atticus.'' He's her little star, the cat that she saved, and that saved her.

That takes her until after lunch, then, she takes Finn out for a walk to the local park. The cats are strictly indoor cats, so she loves getting this time with Finn. It's getting colder now, and frosty. Gabriella wants to enjoy this first winter in Vancouver, she'll not see true winter again until next year. It'll be late spring in Australia right now, and heading into summer. She snaps a stick from a tree, and waves it in front of Finn's little face. ''Finn, ready, boy?'' He excitedly pants, and barks. ''Go and get it!'' She throws it for him. He runs off to retrieve it, and drops it at her feet. ''Good boy, Finn.''

A bit up the path, a little girl says to her mom. ''That puppy is really cute, mommy.'' Gabriella clips the leash back on, and walks Finn over to the little girl. ''Can I pet him, miss?'' The girl says.

Gabriella nods happily. ''Of course you can, he's called Finn, what's your name?'' The girl gently pets Finn, and says. ''Emilia, miss.'' Gabriella smiles. ''My name is Gabriella.''

The mom says. ''You don't sound like you're from around here.'' Gabriella says, chuckling at Finn loving the attention. ''I'm from Montreal, I moved west this past summer. I love this city already.''

After their little outing, they return home. Finn goes for a little nap in his bed. Gabriella looks into a good car from a local dealership. She's lucky she doesn't have a sponsorship from a car brand yet, so she has her pick of the crop.

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

Gabriella goes down to the dealership the following day, dead set on a French brand of some sort. The owner of the dealership points her in the direction of a really nice and affordable Peugeot hybrid in a rich red. She test drives it around the parking lot, and it drives really well, the seats are comfortable. There's plenty of room in it for the three of them or the pets if needs be. So, she returns to the front and says to the dealer. ''I think this one is perfect, sir.''

He smiles, and says. ''Very well, Miss Lemieux, right this way.'' She goes to sign the papers, and gets the key in hand. And, she's out of there with a brand new car for herself. Once home, she shows the animals the new car. ''Like it, Arwen?'' She asks her eldest girl. Arwen meows.

That night, after the team's 3-2 overtime win against the Wild, she updates the boys over Zoom call while in bed. ''Got myself a car at last, so that's finally sorted.''

Elias asks, smiling through the screen at her. ''Good, what kind of car?''

Gabriella says, sipping her water. ''A deep red Peugeot hybrid. Kind of looking for them to sponsor me, actually.''

Quinn nods, and asks her, in bed next to Elias in their hotel room, making Gabriella really want to fly to St Paul. ''Rogers recently signed you as well, didn't they?''

Gabriella nods, and yawns. ''Yeah, after I made the final in Toronto.'' After some time to talk, they sign off, and get to sleep. Gabriella never feels quite as comfortable on her own as she does with the boys in bed with her, but she's too tired to stay up any longer. There was once a time when sleep was difficult for her, not anymore, thank God.

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

The boys are still away on their roadtrip a couple of days later. And, Gabriella has a sit down interview at Rogers Arena with Elliotte Friedman for Sportsnet. She had no idea they were so interested in her until a few days ago. She's had to give plenty of interviews over the last year during her climb to the top fifteen. So, she dresses nice, does her hair and makeup, and drives down to the arena for the interview. She's escorted to a vacant media room, and she meets Elliotte, who greets her with a handshake. ''Hello, Gabriella, how are you?''

Gabriella smiles and says, sitting down. ''Great, how are you?'' Elliotte says, he seems polite enough. ''I'm good, thank you.'' Elliotte does his bit for the cameras. ''So, I'm sitting here with the current Canadian Number One, and newest World Number eleven tennis player - Gabriella Lemieux. Firstly, how does that feel to hear?''

Gabriella laughs, and says. ''It feels surreal, not gonna lie, but I'm so proud of having gotten here. It's nice to hear it, think of where I've been, and where I still can go.''

Elliotte asks her, getting on the subject of tennis right away. ''I suppose we should start at the beginning, how did you first find tennis?''

Gabriella thinks for a moment, and says. ''I was four and a half years old, and the same way we all do, really. Watching tennis matches, and going 'I want to do that! Can I do that?', my parents said yes, and bought me my first tennis racquet for my fifth birthday. I'm a december baby, and that was all I wanted.'' She smiles, and adds to her answer. ''I still carry that little racquet with me in my bags as a good luck charm.''

Elliotte asks her about her childhood heroes. ''Who did you look up to growing up?''

Gabriella says, shifting in her seat. ''Serena Williams is a huge inspiration to me, I remember watching her and wondering; how the hell does she do it? How is she that good? Maria Sharapova as well, she was just so intense. They were before my time, but Graf, Hingis, and Seles inspired me as well.'' Gabriella also remembers her male inspirations. ''Lleyton Hewitt and Daniel Nestor - my coach - also were favourites of mine.''

Elliotte says, nodding. ''I think Serena is an inspiration to everyone. And, how did this partnership with Nestor come to be?'' Gabriella says, that memory sticks in her mind. ''At a tennis tournament when I was seventeen. We got to talking, and he agreed to be my coach as soon as I was eighteen.''

Elliotte asks her, the bond between Gabriella and Daniel is famous by now. ''How important is that relationship to you?'' Gabriella says, smiling brightly. ''Incredibly. I wouldn't be here without him. The only people I'm closer to than him are my family and boyfriends. He's my friend, my second-dad, my confidant, my port in a storm.'' Elliotte asks her, after some talk about her rise in the rankings. ''Now, this was all very quick, because until this past January, you hadn't played a professional match in nine months.''

This is where things get sad for her. ''Yeah, I needed that time off, though.''

Elliotte gently asks her, passing her some tissues across the table. ''Take me back to then if you want to.'' Gabriella nods, and thinks of how to get her story in order. ''Okay, so, I had been with my ex-boyfriend for just over three years, since I was eighteen. We lived together and everything, he played soccer in Montreal.''

Elliotte asks her further. ''What happened there?''

Gabriella gives a sad smile, and says. ''I had just gotten back from our tournament in Miami, this was in 2022. He was meant to pick me up, but he wasn't there. I found out he was cheating on me, and was with his side-piece from a neighbour. So, I packed his shit up, and locked him out of the apartment. He came to get his stuff, and I was in bits inside, and that's when my spiral began.'' The tears are starting already, this is the pain that will never leave her, even after years with her boys.

Elliotte asks her, a sympathetic look on his face. ''What was going on with you after that, Gabriella?''

Gabriella says, turning her grandma's ring on her finger. ''I started having major depressive episodes, to the point of having to force myself to do basic things like getting out of bed. Panic attacks. I wasn't eating properly.'' She also goes into the hardest part of it all. ''I also started waiting for the people in my life to leave me. I started wondering 'how much longer will I have with Daniel? With my friends? My family?' That's something no one tells you about being cheated on, everyone you love becomes suspicious to you.''

Elliotte asks her, still gentle in his tone. ''How did that affect your tennis? Because you were still winning matches, right?'' Gabriella nods, and swallows some water. ''Yeah, I was. But, I was playing to escape my head, to knock myself out at night. I wasn't playing out of love, I was playing out of fear. Fear of my mind, fear of everything.''

Adjusting his seating position, Elliotte says. ''When did you realise you needed help? When was it that you decided to step back for yourself?''

Gabriella gives a hollow laugh. ''Daniel sat me down, and said; ''you're not well, we need to get you into therapy, we can't keep going like this.'' And, I broke down, and agreed to the hiatus.'' She continues. ''So, I got an exemption to go on medication, started therapy, and announced my indefinite hiatus from tennis in spring 2023.''

Elliotte says. ''You had this outpouring of support from your friends on Team Canada and Team USA, how did that feel to receive?'' Gabriella says, tearing up again. ''It felt amazing, you know? Seeing Leylah, Bianca, Denis, and Felix in particular telling me they love me, hoping I came back healthier. I just felt so overwhelmed with it.'' Elliotte asks her about the hiatus. How much those first days off hurt her, how her cats got her through it all. ''I picked up baking and crochet over my break, I also got into house plants. I'd skate, go for walks, take care of the cats. It was good to slow down, by summer I was feeling so much better.''

Elliotte then asks her. ''When did your therapist and Daniel decide you were safe to train again? It sounds to me like tennis became a kind of drug for you.''

Gabriella nods, and admits to him. ''Yeah, it did, I had to give my tennis gear to my parents and everything to avoid the temptation. I was using tennis to hurt myself.'' She thinks for a minute or so. ''I think it was around October when I was allowed to train again, Danny and I got back together in Toronto, and we got on with easing me back into tennis.''

Elliotte asks her, he's spoken to hundreds of hockey players about this. ''What was the hardest part of training camp for you?'' Gabriella says, not needing to think much. ''Learning to play out of love again, re-discovering my love for tennis, why I chose this sport when I was little.''

Elliotte segues into december of last year. ''Then, you come here in December 2023, and fall in love with Quinn and Elias, you go into this season, and become our nation's best tennis player.'' Gabriella smiles brightly, and nods. ''Yeah, it still feels undeserved sometimes, but I'm better at shutting those feelings down now. I'm just happy to finally be in a good place again, with my friends, family, and boyfriends.''

To finish the interview after some talk about her moving west, the trio's life together, and their pets, Elliotte asks her. ''What advice to you have for young athletes going through mental health problems?'' Gabriella says. ''Cultivate a healing environment, you can't get better in the place you got sick. Know when to ask for help. Mostly just trust those around you, there is help, it is open to you, and things will get better.''

Elliotte says, earnestly and kindly. ''It has been a great pleasure to talk to you, Gabriella. Good luck on 2025 and beyond, hopefully you'll be a slam winner when I next see you.''

Gabriella smiles, and says. ''I hope so too. Thank you so much, Elliotte.''

After that, she spends some time at Rogers Arena before going home to the animals. That interview might just be the first really good one she's ever given.

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

Her birthday comes and goes on December 10th, with cake and gifts from her people. A relaxed 24th birthday all things considered, but she'd have it no other way. Then, the trio get shopping for Christmas decorations and a nice tree for the house. They have a vacant corner in the living room that will be perfect for the tree. They arrive at the tree place, and find a perfect one. ''You're a bit later than most families.'' The manager says, as he readies to cut the tree down for them.

Quinn explains. ''It was Ella's birthday four days ago, we don't wanna mix the two events up.''

Elias nods, and says. ''Yeah, our girlfriend deserves her birthday being special.''

Gabriella says to the manager of the place. ''Not always fun having a December birthday. Could never really do anything at school because we'd be decorating for Christmas.'' The manager nods, and says, finishing wrapping their chosen tree up. ''I can understand that, my wife's birthday is on Canada Day.''

They pay up, and load the tree into the car, before driving home to put it up. Then, the fun part. They spend all day decorating the tree and the house. Once done, they crash on the couch together with their pets. Finn looks fascinated with the tree. Atticus curls up in Gabriella's lap, always a mama's boy. ''Like the tree, Atticus?'' She asks her eldest, who purrs contentedly. ''How about you, Legolas?'' The ginger tabby meows. Elias asks Arwen. ''Ready for our first Christmas and Hanukkah, Arwen?'' Arwen purrs, the bell on her collar jingling as she settles down.

Quinn gets back from setting the menorah up, and snuggles with Daenerys. ''How about you, Daenerys? Excited?'' Daenerys chirps as her dad pets her ears. Finn barks, wagging his little tail. ''I think Finn is excited anyway.'' Quinn says.

Elias laughs. ''Yeah, I'd say so.''

Gabriella looks up from petting her feline sons. ''Seems like it, doesn't it?''

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

After a team Christmas lunch at the arena, the team host an annual family skate. Private, with press banned from the place for the whole day. As with other meals, Gabriella eats lightly, wanting to be in fighting trim as soon as New Year rolls around. She laces up her skates, and looks to her boyfriends. ''We ready?'' Elias and Quinn nod, and help her to her feet. They hit the ice together, and skate out before everyone else can make it to the rink. To the surprise of some of the other Canucks, Gabriella is a really good skater. She's sure on her feet, and elegant to boot. ''Didn't know you could skate so well, Ella.'' Conor says.

Gabriella laughs, and comes to a stop on the blueline. ''My mom taught me when I was little.'' Veronique Lemieux is a figure skating coach, and made sure her children knew how to skate. ''This got me through some rough times.''

The family skate goes incredibly well, the other ladies mostly looking after the kids, who invent little games to play on the rink. Gabriella remembers something, she grabs two of her racquets and a ball, and says. ''Anyone up for some ice tennis?''

JT asks. ''Wouldn't that get dangerous?''

Gabriella shrugs. ''Not necessarily, no. Any takers?'' Brock steps up, looking confident in his skating abilities if not in his tennis ability. Gabriella lets him serve first, using the red line as a net of sorts. He serves, and Gabriella returns with a softer forehand. They rally back and forth for a little bit, treating this as a super tiebreak. Which, eventually, Gabriella wins 10-8. ''That was incredible, Gabriella.'' Tocchet says from behind the bench.

Gabriella tidies her things away, and they get back to family skating time. ''Thank you, Mr Tocchet.''

After that, the trio get home, and relax with some hot chocolate and Christmas movies for the rest of the day. Gabriella is desperate to savour this time with her boyfriends. She's got four weeks until she flies to Melbourne for the Australian Open. Four short weeks of time with her two loves. And, she's gonna make them count for something.

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

Christmas Day rolls around quickly, Gabriella wakes up warm, her head on Elias' chest, listening to his heartbeat. Quinn's strong arms wrapped around her from behind. It's snowing outside already, something Gabriella doesn't get to see very often anymore. It's nine in the morning. Elias opens his bright blue eyes, and smiles down at his girlfriend and boyfriend. Both of them are so incredibly precious to him. ''Merry Christmas, darling.'' He says to Gabriella.

She gently leans up to kiss him on the lips. ''Merry Christmas, sweetheart.'' This must wake Quinn up, the deepest sleeper of the Whistler Trio. ''Merry Christmas, babe and angel.''

Elias says to his boyfriend. ''Merry Christmas, Wolverine.'' He ruffles Quinn's wavy hair. Gabriella squeezes his hand on her hip. ''Merry Christmas, honey.''

They get about their day, dressed in fluffy socks, sweats, and Christmas sweaters. After pancakes and hot cocoa for breakfast, they dig into their gifts. Quinn gets a special hockey stick from his family with his name, captaincy, number, and Norris win engraved on it. Elias' family have personalized a varsity jacket for him with his three team logos on the sleeves. Gabriella has been gifted a special plaque with her current titles engraved on it from her family, with plenty of room for more. After opening some other gifts, they give their pets some presents. Then, their gifts to each other. Elias has gifted Quinn a new Rolex watch, and Gabriella the prettiest sapphire bracelet and earrings. ''Thank you, Elias.'' Quinn kisses him. Gabriella also kisses Elias. ''I love them, thank you.''

Quinn has gifted Elias a rare Vaxjo Lakers jersey with his name and number on it, and Gabriella a leather bound journal with a wonderful message from them both in the front. ''That is incredible, Quinn, thank you so much.'' Elias hugs him tight. Gabriella leans over to kiss Quinn. ''That's lovely, Quinn, thank you.''

Gabriella has went for something special for her boys. For them both, paintings of their career achievements so far by an artist friend of hers in Italy. ''And, there's these too!'' She hands them an envelope. Inside are grounds passes and tickets for next year's Canadian Open in Montreal. ''This is incredible, Ella, thank you.'' Quinn kisses her cheek. Elias nods, drying his eyes. ''Wow, even my Worlds gold. Thank you, alskling.'' He kisses her other cheek.

They stick some movies on while they have lunch. The afternoon is for relaxing, then, they get the salmon ready to cook for dinner. The thing about having three athletes in this house is that diet plans are pretty much set in stone. Elias gets the salmon ready, Quinn is on the vegetables, and Gabriella adds the finishing touches to her fruit pie - a recipe from her aunt. They sit down to their first ever Christmas dinner together. ''You know, I never once imagined I'd be here, having an amazing Christmas with two men who I love so much.'' Gabriella says.

Quinn chuckles, and says. ''Same, I never thought I'd find two people who I can't be without, but here I am.''

Elias nods, it's an odd little life they're building together, but he'd have it no other way. ''As a kid, I didn't think it was possible to love two people at once, I'm so happy to have been wrong.'' They get dessert done, and relax for the night with the cats and Finn. Then, at eleven, it's off to bed. They snuggle up together in the usual way, and drift off together as always. In a house full of love, full of happiness, full of hope. If there's anything they've learned over this past year, it's that love can be best with three.

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

So, this took me a while to figure out. I've never written a throuple before, so it's a new dynamic for me to negotiate. I'll be going back to the social media format soon-ish. But, I was desperate to write a traditional story with these three, and winter is really the only time they all get together at home, so it was a good excuse to have them all in Vancouver.

Enjoy!

[robsterskellington]

That should do it for the polls for now, though I've gotta thank everyone who got involved- special thanks to @izartn, @dreadeves, @someonebeatmetotheseusernames and @canethatssecretlyasword for giving reasons as to why Vanitas would get along with certain characters.

The polls are for a fic that my cousin and I have been working on for around 2 years, and will continue to work on, since a lot of said progress was deleted; we wrote our stories, scenarios and plans via FB Messenger and thanks to an update, most of the plans and texts got deleted.

The basic premise is that after Vanitas is "killed" by Noé at the end of VNC, he is teleported by Luna via the Book of Vanitas to the world of BSD, and specifically to Yokohama. Because we started writing this when the last manga chapter for BSD was 101, so before S4 was aired, certain things have been changed: Chuuya *did* turn into a Vampire, most of the Port Mafia (and Jouno) remained as Vampires, Fukuchi and Fyodor are still alive, but circumstances meant that they had to drop certain plans, Sigma did not end up joining the Agency, etc.

I'm gonna leave a snippet here for anyone interested, otherwise thank you all so much for the help and letting me ramble lol.

"Man, today is sooooo boring!" Dazai was leaning back in his chair, his desk acting like a footrest, all of his work neglected. Normal day for him, it seemed.

"Maybe if you actually bothered to work, time would pass by faster..." Kunikida muttered, though he knew it was futile. And unfortunately, even *his* work was incredibly dull. The Agency and the Port Mafia were still in some semblance of a truce, and nobody was happy about it, really.

After the mess with the Decay of Angels, Yokohama were still struggling to trust both the Agency and the Military Police- it wasn't surprising, considering the Hunting Dog's Leader, and the Leader of the Decay of Angels, were one and the same. Dazai had his crimes expunged, so he could at least live outside of his prison cell and go back to the Agency; after all, he had been the one to discover that the best way to break the Vampires created by Bram Stoker's control, was to simply douse them in a shit ton of water. He still smirked at remembering the Chibi leaving Fyodor behind to save Dazai and Sigma from dying.

That being said, they still lost: Sigma ended up back in Fyodor and Nikolai's clutches, Fukuchi was on the run after the other Hunting Dog's found out about his betrayal, and all the Vampires? Despite having their minds and free will again, they still *remained* as Vampires. None of them reverted back to being Human.

Although, with that said and done, it was probably a good thing that it was at least a little bit peaceful- Dazai had been a little more social, (which translated to disappearing to go and pissing off Chuuya without anyone else's knowledge), and attempting to spend a bit of time with Akutagawa, much to Atsushi's chargrin; that was a futile effort, though...

Akutagawa had mostly stayed locked in his personal room in the Port Mafia base, only letting Gin come in to bring him food, which he barely ate. His lung disease still persisted, and he was running out of time. Other Vampires within the Port Mafia were stronger, and didn't have Abilities that could lose control, like Rashōmon- because of that, Mori had no qualms about sending them out to do jobs.

A slight rumble made the pair snap to attention; the others were either out on the town or investigating little things like shoplifters- so when the pair of them saw a shining blue light in the sky and a figure falling from it? They knew that everyone saw from where they all were and that they would rush to the scene. Kunikida immediately got on the phone for everyone to either return to the Agency or try to rescue the person falling.

Atsushi was fast enough to catch the person, using his Weretiger Ability to make his legs faster. He leaped up and caught them in his arms, landing perfectly atop a building, holding the figure close and panting softly, "I-I got you. You okay?" He got no response, and the stench of blood hit him like a train, so he looked down at the person he'd caught.

It was a young man, maybe around Atsushi's age, with dark blue hair. His clothes were very old fashioned and torn, but Atsushi had no time to dwell on that- the boy was bloodied, unconscious, and *wasn't breathing!!* He practically threw himself back to the Agency, where thankfully Yosano was already waiting in the infirmary after Kunikida’s call. She took him from Atsushi and locked herself in the infirmary, leaving Dazai, Kunikida and Atsushi to await the others to discuss what happened.

Everyone had been horrified, the boy had looked in awful shape. Dazai put a hand on Atsushi's shoulder and assured him that he was as fast as he could have been. Naomi and Jun'ichiro burst into the room, followed by Kenji, Kyouka and Ranpo, all of whom had seen Atsushi's heroic rescue of someone *falling from the sky*- the siblings having been in town, the others in the café. Fukuzawa had been on the roof, and came down knowing that an update would be provided sooner or later, commending Atsushi's quick reflexes.

But Atsushi didn't care about that. The boy was obviously no older than 18, maybe a month or so older than himself. He'd felt scars beneath his clothing, so maybe he had also been abused, or maybe tortured? They wouldn't know until Yosano finished her examination, and even then... she wouldn't compromise a patient's privacy unless given express permission.

Yosano only slipped out after an hour or so, to give everyone an update that scared everyone: "I didn't even *need* to bring that poor boy to the brink of death. He was already there, his heart had all but stopped." She gave Ranpo his belongings and personal effects, and he examined all of them.

The clothes were approximately 18th or 19th century attire, torn by what could only have been claws from some type of wild beast. The boy's blood had caked most of them, except for the ribbon from around his neck, and the ribbon from around his waist. The knife he had was definitely used to defend himself, though only by slashing and not stabbing; only the blades edge had blood on it, there was no trace of blood on the rest of it.

The most interesting thing was a book. It had pure black pages, a clockwork cover with a cracked but beautiful blue gemstone adorning it, a long chain attached. Always interested by books, Ranpo examined it; there was no words on the front, so he couldn't determine the book's title, and he quickly discovered that he couldn't open it! It must have been bound by some sort of magical energy. However, it might also be a case of the lock in front being jammed, so he handed the book to Kenji first.

No matter his strength, Kenji couldn't break the lock or tear open the cover to reveal the pages. It was different, being unable to open a simple book. Dazai smirked- perhaps the boy was an Ability User like them, and the book was a part of it, like Kyouka's phone or Q's hideous doll. He took the book in his hands... *and nothing happened*.

"What the Hell..?" He murmured. This was an Ability he *couldn't* nullify? Everyone grew tense at that fact; was this boy that powerful? If so, it was too dangerous to allow him to have the book back. However, Fukuzawa seemed to disagree and took the book from Dazai, "Is that really smart? What if he immediately tries to attack us?"

"I will not return it to him until I have determined for myself what sort of person he is. Yosano, please stay by the boy's side. Then call me as soon as he awakens so that I may speak to him." She nodded and did as she was ordered. "The rest of you, feel free to go back out or stay and work. The boy will be alright, do not fret." He left without another word, no doubt back onto the roof.

Dazai sat at his desk, unable to hide his frown or pretend he didn't care; he'd *always* been able to nullify a person's Ability before, its what made him instrumental to the Port Mafia when it came to having to use Chuuya. And now this boy comes out of nowhere, with a book practically bubbling with energy, and he couldn't do anything to stop it?

Nobody worked, or left to go into town. Ranpo was still looking at the clothes before instructing Naomi and Jun'ichiro to get some new clothes for the boy- there was no way in Hell that these could be fixed up, though he kept the ribbons for the boy to wear since they weren't completely shredded or bloody.

Kyouka examined the knife and nodded, "He takes good care of it. It's perfectly sharp. I think his gloves are weapons as well." Ranpo picked up one of the gloves and nodded in agreement, they had metal in each fingertip to act as claws in order to deal unsuspected damage. This boy was a fighter, no doubt about that. "I think that chain is long enough to strangle someone if thrown. The book itself also has a concealed blade."

"We just can't see it because we can't open it," Ranpo mumbled. He'd already learned a lot about this boy: he was an Ability User, probably not from this world or dimension if that light, likely a portal, had anything to do with his arrival. He was barely 18, born in February. He hadn't seen the boy yet, but judging from the clothes, he was underweight though had a strong stature from fighting, and was about 5'9". The gloves were used to conceal his arms, yet his sleeves were baggy and rolled up. Even his coat didn't seem to have had its sleeves used recently.

There was something else. Ranpo knew that look in Yosano's eyes, it was the same look she'd had after she first examined Atsushi's body: the boy was very literally scarred. Judging from how pale she was, it must have been a lot, and they were old. Just what had happened to this child? And who was cruel enough to inflict such damage?

[alixinwwonderland]

so the universe i started with this fic and this sequel seems to have more in store! part three, here we go! thanks @wonderlandleighleigh @bekindreblog for bouncing ideas with me and for some much-needed inspiration.

(this will probably end up on ao3 at some point, link to come!)

Since Alfie’s little sojourn into the future, Midge has been going into overdrive trying to fix everything that went wrong. And, yes, she even has a brand-new notebook to track as much of it as she can remember, how it all happened, and where she might be able to stop it in its tracks. Her notebooks haven’t let her down yet, so why should this be any different?

She makes a schedule to remind herself to spend a certain amount of time each day (or at least every other day) with each of the kids. It goes against everything in her nature not to turn that into a bit for her act, too, but if “Mrs. X at the Gaslight” could still come back to haunt her, then the last thing she needs is some greasy-haired dweeb recording her confessions of terrible motherhood just enough to have them pop up when Ethan and Esther are old enough to be permanently scarred by their mother joking about forcing herself to spend time with them. She’s not even forcing herself to spend time with them, just to schedule when that time is, but she suspects that’s not a distinction that will play well with audiences or with the kids. So, out of the act it goes, against Susie’s objections.

The family stuff, ironically enough, is easier than some of the professional. She’s still laboring away at Gordon’s show, and while it’s better than her first go-round, filled with unwanted flirting from the boss and constant opposition from coworkers, it’s still not what she wants to be doing. She knows, in the back of her mind, how future-her solved the “writers can’t be on the show” problem, but she’s not ready to take that leap or burn those bridges just yet. 

Besides, there’s a bigger problem at hand: namely, Susie having a rare lapse in street smarts and getting herself and Midge entangled with the mob. That, again, is not something that Midge wants to relive the way it was in Alfie’s version of the future, so she’s stuck with trash-can musicals once again. 

And now, she’s stuck in Chicago, doing a couple of sets at a club owned by a “friend” of Frank and Nicky’s, whose headliner pulled out at the last minute for reasons not clearly explained. It’s a weekend, and she’s got nothing to do on Saturday afternoon but explore a new city and try to figure out how to extract herself from this mess. Susie doesn’t seem to have seen as much in her vision as Midge did, or if she did, she’s keeping it secret even from Midge, and all she’ll say is that she’s “working on it.”

When she decides to indulge in a hearty sandwich for lunch, Midge picks a deli at random, knowing deep down that it’ll probably be disappointing by her standards, but hoping it will be at least passable. The bigger surprise is when the woman seated on the stool next to her turns her head and Midge realizes that she knows her, at the exact same time the other woman realizes the same thing.

“Hi,” Mei says.

“Hi,” Midge answers.

“What are you doing here?” Mei winces. “Sorry, that came out a lot ruder than I thought. I just meant—”

“Didn’t expect to see me here?” When Mei shrugs in agreement, Midge nods. “You and me both.”

Then Midge looks at Mei — really looks at her, and a thought occurs to her: a memory of a months-ago conversation with Frank and Nicky, and an allusion that Mei’s family is frightening enough to even scare off hardened mob goons.

It’s probably a bad idea. It’s almost certainly a bad idea. But, fight fire with fire, as they say, right?

“Hey,” Midge begins. “I know I have… absolutely no right to ask you this. Or ask you anything, really. But, honestly, I’m desperate.”

“I’m flattered,” Mei says dryly, and not for the first time, Midge gets the sense that, in some other life, she and Mei could have gotten along pretty well.

“My manager, she doesn’t usually get things wrong, but when she does, boy do things go wrong,” Midge continues. “Which circles back to your first question.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Exactly,” Midge says. She lowers her voice slightly, aware of the public space they’re in. “Couple of years ago, Susie made some … friends, let’s say. And now business is picking up and they’ve turned out to be less of friends and more of…”

“Ah. That kind of friend,” Mei says delicately. Midge presses her lips together tightly and nods.

“So here I am, in Chicago, using up the only free time I’ll have all month, doing sets for their friend’s club. I had to emcee a musical about municipal waste! There’s no end to it. They said they own us,” Midge hisses. “And now Joel’s sniffing around, and knowing him he’ll try to do something stupid out of some misplaced savior complex about me and the kids, and then—”

She stops and looks back at Mei.

“Sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to bring up—”

“It’s okay.” Mei shrugs it off. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

“Look. I know we’re not friends, not in any definition of the word. But I may have heard … things. About the kinds of circles your family may or may not run in, and the kinds of people who are scared of them.” 

A faint grin appears on Mei’s lips. 

“And you were hoping, what, that I could call in the cavalry and save all of you from your own naivete and stupidity?” Mei asks, blunt as can be.

“Wow, they definitely haven’t gotten to the ‘bedside manner’ portion of med school, have they?” Midge cracks. 

“It’s overrated,” Mei parries back, and there’s that dry, dry humor again that makes Midge wish things had gone differently. “Okay,” she says, getting off her stool and putting a few bills by her plate to pay.

“Okay?” Midge echoes back, startled at the abrupt shift. Mei picks up her purse from the counter, then turns back to Midge.

“Your manager — Susie, you said?”

“Yeah. Susie Myerson.”

“Well. You tell Susie to keep an ear out. And if some guy shows up to deliver Chinese food but without the food, you tell her she should invite him in. Good luck with your shows, Midge.”

Mei is already almost out the door when Midge gets with the program enough to hurry after her, tossing her own money on the counter and nearly losing a shoe on the way out.

“Mei!” she calls out, hurrying after her on the sidewalk. Mei stops and turns around. When Midge reaches her, the only thing that falls out of her mouth is, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why would you do this for me? After everything that happened — with Joel, and with everything else — you’re just going to … help me? Without even asking for a favor or something in return?”

Mei’s eyes narrow.

“First of all, I don’t do that favor bullshit. My family might, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m here by myself, on my own merit, no favors called in. Draw your own conclusions.”

“I’m sorry, I know you — I didn’t mean —”

“Second. You’re right that Joel is exactly the type of man who would puff himself up and try to fix things and get himself into trouble instead. And as … as badly as things ended, the image of how that could turn out isn’t one that I’m interested in seeing. And it’s not one that your kids deserve.”

Mei takes a deep breath and seems to relax a little as she looks squarely into Midge’s gaze.

“And third? I sort of owe you, anyway.”

“Me? What did I do?” Midge asks, trying to sort through her limited interactions with Mei to figure out when she’s ever done something to actually help instead of make things worse. Mei smiles, and it’s an actual smile, not a sarcastic or ironic one.

“That night, in the hospital, while we were waiting for news about Moishe, and you started in with all the questions about co-parenting and managing the kids’ schedules and me and Joel living together, and all of that.”

“I thought I scared you off with that. Joel thinks I scared you off with that,” Midge can’t help adding. Mei lets out a short huff of laughter at that.

“Of course he does. And I guess from his perspective, that’s what happened. But from mine, it’s that you showed me, clear as day, what that life would look like. What my life would have looked like, if I’d stayed and gone through with… with all the plans. I don’t know, it felt like—”

“A glimpse of a future you realized wasn’t for you?” Midge asks, a little wry. 

“Yeah. Yeah, exactly,” Mei says softly. Midge smiles.

“I know what you mean.” They’re quiet for a moment, until Mei shakes herself out of it.

“Remember. Susie. Chinese food. Don’t forget.”

“Got it. Thanks, Mei. And… good luck. I think you’re going to be a really, really great doctor.”

Mei grins.

“You bet your ass I am.”

Mei’s good to her word. A week later, Dinah ushers a skinny, bespectacled man in a suit into Susie’s office. Midge never finds out what, exactly, was in the briefcase he brought over, nor will Susie tell her what was said during her conversation with Frank and Nicky. 

“Better that you don’t know the details,” Susie says ominously.

Whatever blackmail is in there, though, it does the trick. Frank and Nicky will never be fully gone — that appears to be the cost of doing this kind of business, even if it makes Midge wary — but it’s much better than being “owned” by them. And that, Midge thinks, is good enough to make a start.