#you painstakingly taught him? Yeah I didn't think so

[gingermintpepper]

I've seen so many interesting and fun greek myth ships over the years both divine and mortal supported by text and just for fun, and yet I fear tonight, I will be throwing my hat into the ring as a propagator of niche greek myth ships because like, no seriously how is Aristaeus/Dionysus not already thing.

[jungle-angel]

Family Ties Are Stronger Than Time (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You're supposed to beon bedrest for a bit after just having had the boys so Rhett decides to take Amy with him to visit an old friend and learns something about a family member that shocks him

Notes: A very, very Happy Hannukah to all who celebrate, I feel bad I haven't done much but this has been sitting in the back of my brain for a while. I hope it came out well enough, I was nervous writing it but I'm hoping it came out well enough 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Warnings: Mentions of war, birth etc.

"Alright sweetheart," Rhett said to Amy. "You ready?"

"Yeah!" she exclaimed excitedly.

She hopped down the steps of the general store you both owned with Rhett helping her down onto the snowy sidewalk and into the truck where he buckled her into her carseat. He placed the blue and gold box full of baked goods next to her, hoping that they wouldn't spill over on the ride out of town. He and Cecelia had painstakingly made them for three days, hoping that they turned out alright.

Down the roads they went, out of downtown and back to the more rural areas in town where ranches became a more common sight than buildings. They passed by the Waldorf school where Amy and Hannah both attended kindergarten and preschool respectively, the grounds now covered with snow and the farm across the street with it. Rhett had to laugh a little as he had lost count of how many times he had gone to the farm across from the school to help fix a tractor or help the farmers with their cows.

Finally, they came to a lonely little stretch of ranch, the old farmhouse sitting on top of a little hill with stretch after stretch of fence surrounding it. He pulled up to the garage and parked the truck, letting Amy out and taking the box with him.

"Go ahead Doodlebug," Rhett told her. "Go ring the doorbell."

Amy rang the little bell next to the door and in a split second it was opened by an elderly woman with white hair, her eyes lighting up when she saw Rhett and Amy.

"My sweet I didn't think you were coming!" she exclaimed happily.

"What, Sara? Ya'll thought we were gonna ignore ya'll?" Rhett chuckled.

"You.....you, you get in here, come, come in," Sara beckoned.

Rhett and Amy both went into the house and removed their coats and shoes. "Elie around at all?" Rhett asked.

"No, no, he went to go help Officer Joy or something," Sara told him. "Here, I'll fix you both something."

Rhett loved coming down to visit Sara. Ever since he was a little kid, he loved the way the elderly Polish woman made him feel welcome in her home and had even taught him a little bit of her language. Sara and Elie Abramowicz were as close with the Abbotts as the Duttons were, more like family than friends.

"Where is (y/n)?" Sara asked.

"She's all holed up in bed," Rhett chuckled. "Boys were born two days ago."

"Ah and on the first night of Hannukah no less," Sara said with pride.

"Oh, speaking of which," Rhett said, seating himself on the old, rickety barstool at the kitchen counter. "Made these a few days ago."

He gave Sara the box and when she opened it, her face lit up. "You didn't!" she exclaimed.

Rhett laughed before he and Sara hugged. "Didn't burn the kitchen down makin'em either," he laughed.

"Oh Rhett," Sara sighed. "You know I haven't been able to make sufganiyot since Mama passed away. Thank you. As if Elie and I didn't owe your family enough already."

"Sara what the hell are ya'll even talkin about?" Rhett asked her. "You don't owe us nothin."

"Oh but we do," Sara insisted. "And it all goes back to your Oma."

"My grandma?" Rhett asked.

Sara nodded.

"Wh.....what'd Oma Heidi have to do with anything?"

Sara scrunched her deeply wrinkled brow. "You mean to tell me that your Papa never told you?" she asked him.

Rhett shook his head.

"Here," Sara said, putting the box of fresh sufganiyot next to the toaster. "You stay and I tell you."

Rhett stayed put, keeping a careful watch on Amy who was in the living room playing with Elie and Sara's boarhound, Boris. He waited for Sara to finish making a mug full of heady black tea before she seated herself across from him.

"You know that Elie and I used to live in Warsaw?"

Rhett nodded.

"I remember a long, long time ago after the invasion," Sara began. "We were trapped in our city like animals, nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. Elie and I, we were so young, fifteen and seventeen years old and in terrible danger. Every night we all prayed for a miracle."

Rhett could almost see it before his very eyes and the terrible scene that played out in his mind like a movie.

"Your Oma had come to us with a group of people who claimed they could help," Sara continued. "French and German resisters who were bent on getting people out of the hands of the Nazis. We didn't trust them at first, but quickly we realized we had no choice. "Six hundred of us fled from Warsaw in 1943," Sara explained. "Six hundred. We went on foot, by rail and by truck, all the way to a safe place where we hid."

The more Rhett listened to the story, the more the shock ran through his very core. Royal had never said anything about his mother or about what she had done before leaving Switzerland.

"You see Rhett," Sara said. "It is because of your Oma that we and so many others lived. That is why Elie and I remain close with your family. After we came to America, your Oma and I remained very close friends, so much so that she came to fetch me the night you were born. I made a promise to your Oma that I would watch over you when she passed Rhett.....and Elie and I intend to keep that promise."

Rhett could feel his eyes burning. He had never known. "Why didn't Dad say anything if he knew?" Rhett asked her.

"Do not blame your father Rhett," Sara answered. "That was your Oma's wish. Your father knew how much pain she had gone through for others and didn't wish to inflict that pain on anyone else."

He felt a few loose tears falling from his eyes when he heard Sara's story. "Wish she was still here," he croaked.

"Ah but she is," Sara assured him. "I know she is Rhett."

It took him a while to process the story he had just heard, but after a while, Rhett felt an immense sense of pride, knowing how strong his ties were to the people who were like family to him.

Rhett heard a truck pulling up a little while later when who should appear but you and Royal with Hannah, each of you carrying a little carseat that safely held Tatum and Tanner, your twins.

"Hey Sara," Royal called as he entered. "We come bearing a Hannukah gift for you and Elie."

"Royal Abbott, you march into my house while your son is here...."

Royal laughed, unable to make out the rest of what she had been saying.

You and Sara talked a good long while while Rhett talked things over with Royal. Surprisingly enough, Royal was more than understanding about the whole thing.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell ya'll sooner son," Royal said. "I saw how much pain it had caused Oma.......I didn't want any of that pain passed onto you guys."

Rhett tried hard to hold back the tears in front of his father but he couldn't. Royal pulled him in and held his son when he saw that look in Rhett's eyes.

When all was said and done and everything had settled, you and Rhett gathered in the living room with Sara and Elie when he had returned, the two of them absolutely head over heels for your boys. Cecelia had joined you a little while later along with the rest of Sara and Elie's family. The grandkids all taught Amy and Hannah how to play dreidel and the delighted shrieks and shouts that came from the living room had you and Rhett in the best of moods.

"Think they'll sleep ok tonight?" you asked.

"No doubt darlin," Rhett chuckled. "Just wait till Christmas Eve."

You half laughed and half groaned at the thought, knowing Amy and her Dutton cousins would all be up till some ungodly hour, having eaten all the candy in their stockings. You and Rhett shared a sweet kiss as you watched the kids. Rhett looked out the living room window and saw that one of the stars was shining a little brighter that night, mouthing a silent "thank you" to his Oma Heidi, who he was sure, was watching over you all.

[queenofbaws]

oooh! May I have a (Control) Trench/Northmoor thing? Been a while and I loved what you did last time. Preferably something soft and light-hearted?

(I'm currently too clammed up and angsty and generally blah to write anything, so *someone* has to do it.) <3

catch me catching up on some not-quite-six sentence sat(or)sunday!

The interdepartmental bulletin had gone over like a lead balloon - at least in the executive suite. Its phrasing had been cheerful, almost irreverent, peppering in all the buzzwords du jour: synergy, community, appreciation, morale, describing the exercise as everything but what it actually was.

A bad idea.

Trench had seen the surveys go out - neat, painstakingly organized things they were - and for a good week after the copy machine had cooled off, each pneumatic THWOOP! of an incoming mail tube made him wince. There was no way in hell this didn't break bad, no. Way. In. Hell.

Yearbook superlatives were still yearbook superlatives by any other name; and maybe he wasn't some high-falutin' expert on the matter, but he was pretty damn sure this sort of juvenile popularity contest counted as archetypal, no matter how wild and/or wacky the categories were.

Whoever's idea this little team building exercise had been, well...he hoped they realized they were playing with fire. If not metaphorically, tempting the Oldest House with a tasty morsel of iconography, then, uh, literally. They might literally find themselves set aflame.

The thought occurred to him again when the day finally came and he found himself standing in front of the corkboard in the Executive wing, his eyes moving with slow, calculated saccades across the pages of dot-matrix printing posted up there. Perhaps, he thought - perhaps - they'd skirted the Oldest House's wrath through careful consideration (the sides of each sheet torn off perfectly at the perforations, the proper usage of an even number of Bureau-issued nondescript thumbtacks, the wise omission of any of those digital smiley faces the younger agents seemed so fond of those days), but he'd seen Broderick's name on the list. He'd seen the title he'd been awarded.

No one was out of the frying pan yet.

Like the cliche alone betrayed him, a familiar warmth filled the room. Without glancing away from the list, Trench swirled the (now steaming) coffee in his mug and took a sip. "Director," he said by way of greeting, not without the faintest upward tick to the corner of his mouth.

"Had one of these in high school, you know," Northmoor answered, all bluster and proud swagger as he joined Trench at the corkboard. "Most likely to succeed. You believe that? Like somehow, in someway, the whole graduating class was prescient. Who woulda thunk, huh? Oh, if only they knew..."

Ah. All right. There he'd been, expecting the water coolers to be bubbling over while the wallpaper glue melted off the damn drywall, and yet there was Broderick, grinning like the cock of the walk. Trench was still fully, fully of the opinion that this whole mess had been a bad idea - an awful one, really - but now he added an asterisk to that thought, a footnote down at the very bottom of his mental write-up of the scene:

The superlatives had been a bad idea.*

*But funny, too.

With his mug, he gestured towards the corkboard, offhandedly asking, "You've seen it already, then?"

"On my way in, yeah," Northmoor answered, folding his arms and squaring his shoulders in a self-assured stance as endearing as it was obnoxious. "Great way to start the day - really puts a spring in your step, doesn't it? Seeing how the rest of them think of us?"

Trench hummed a soft "Mhm" of agreement into his coffee, experience having taught him to savor it now, while he had the chance. Soon enough, he suspected, that wouldn't be the case.

"You hardly sound enthusiastic about it. Here, what'd they give you? Hmm...Zachariah...Zachari - ah, there you are!" His finger traced its way down the list from a safe distance, the paper darkening in a spot or two along the way. "Most likely to benefit from a vacation. Ha! Hey, you have to hand it to them, they're not wrong." Without waiting for a response, he continued, obviously just excited to share his own title. "Try not to look so grim about it, Deputy. I mean, it's not what I was voted, but c'mon...not everyone can be Hottest in the Bureau."

Echoing himself, Trench once more hummed in agreement. "True," he said flatly, hoping against hope there wasn't anything on his face suggesting how close he was to snickering. "You'll have to excuse my candor for saying so, but I don't think anyone here has a leg to stand on if they argue you're not the hottest one in the Bureau. That's just simple fact."

He waited. That probably made him as much a part of the problem as whoever it was who'd put the surveys out in the first place, but he did it. Trench waited until Northmoor turned to look at him, his grin sideways and shining and perfectly fetching; Trench waited for that very moment, and then, perfectly calm, fanned himself with the case file he'd been holding in his other hand.

The grin didn't drop all at once. But it dropped. Doubt flared in Broderick's eyes, then realization, then fury, then actual honest-to-god embers. The room positively wilted in the ensuing heat pouring off of him as he whirled around, shouting at some poor pencil pusher to "GET ME THE NAME OF WHATEVER CLOWN THOUGHT THIS COCKAMAMIE BULLSHIT UP," and Trench? Why, he loosened his tie. Kept fanning himself. He set his coffee mug down as its contents began to boil, and he forced himself to admit maybe there was a bit of truth behind those superlatives after all.

He probably wouldn't get a suntan from watching Broderick burst into flame upon realizing the whole Bureau had joined together to make a horrific pass at wordplay at his expense, but the ambient heat he was putting off was the closest he'd come to a tropical vacation in at least ten years, and if he was honest with himself...yeah, yeah, he was benefiting from it, all right.

[bee-a-garbage-shipper]

Yamada would be the contrast for how Todoroki handles a one-sided crush.

Like his feelings are so painstakingly obvious that both 1A and 1B know perfectly well who he likes.

(This could also be cause to Izuku to doubt his worth and if Shouta really does like him because he spent his life as The Quirkless Loser™, the lessons taught to him over the last 10 years aren't just gonna magically disappear just because he has a Quirk now.)

But at the same time he's never presumes that he has the right to Shouta's feelings just because they're friends. At the end of the day he respects Shouta to much to make those types of assumptions.

I mean yeah when AiDeku initially gets together he's gonna extract himself from the situation because that type of shit hurts. But it's temporary, Shouta is his best friend and the fact he wanted more when Shouta didn't isn't gonna change that.

Also I can see him talking to Todoroki to try and get him to back off because Izuku is not interested and Shouta is very much losing his patients.

And blissfully ignorant and entitled Todoroki just looks at Yamada like why wouldn't Izuku like me ? we had a moment . he broke his bones for me when he barely knew me

And Yamada's just fighting the desire to scream because holy shit someone this obliviously unaware of the world should not possibly actually exist and maybe he can sneak some of the liquor that Midnight-Sensei thinks she has hidden from the students because he is absolutely to sober to deal with this.

Because Izuku's self worth is so low it hit the ground and started digging. He broke his bones for Ochako when he barely knew her to. He's just like that.

And then Todoroki brings up Izuku calling him hot and Yamada's just like dude Asui called you hot and she's a raging lesbian that sort of thing isn't an expression of interest it's a statement of fact.

Later Yamada just walks up to Izuku places his hands on the shorter boy's shoulders and says "I am so sorry".

....

AU

AiDeku and One-Sided TodoDeku

Shouto: Midoriya-San and I are endgame.

Shouta: I'm not sure what that means, but I am sure that it sounds irritating. And I don't like it.

It's Pride Month so... full on rant.

In this AU we are swapping Shinsou and Monoma for Aizawa and Mic. Shinsou is the tired as fuck homeroom teacher, Monoma is the loud English teacher, Aizawa is the grumpy gen ed kid who clawed his way into the hero course, and Mic is the loud blonde in 1B.

Difference is Mic isn't like Monoma.

But anyway- so Aizawa ends up in hero course because his Quirk can in fact kick everyone elses asses, and due to a really bad performance, Mineta is thrown out of hero course.

And then Izuku. Izuku who is loud and cheerful and who thinks Aizawa is so cool just talks and talks to him, and ropes him into friendship and Aizawa is like: who the fuck is this? But finds he loves it to because it feels safe.

Then Todoroki. I'm torn. Because a part of me wants: naive Todoroki who thinks they'd be perfect for each other and misreads everything to show affection.

And another part wants: Spoiled shit Todoroki who is convinced he's a better choice for Izuku because of latent belief he is the strongest and the best match for Izuku.

Because usually I'm nice with Todoroki, but right now I wanna be mean.

But anyway, Aizawa and Izuku are getting closer, Todoroki is trying to sway Izuku, and Shinsou just watches his disaster class in pain while his loud blonde of a husband mocks him because 'Oh god it's you from years ago.'