#there's an accident and the kiddies are just getting out of school

[bloomingbluebell]

also i cannot wait to drive. i love taking the bus but. i could be home by now if i drove.

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 4

Shiny new schedule! Lets see how it shakes out. I'm hoping this will give each story time to shine on its own. But as my husband pointed out, it is four days in a row of stories followed by a day of no posting and then WIP Wednesday for the next two. So there really isn't a break between them lol!

Eh, it's fine!

In this Eddie finds what happened to Steve and decides to do something about it. And Steve develops a crush on Eddie's swimming.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

~

Steve was grateful when the party ended. He was about ready to vibrate out of his skin. He needed to talk to Robin.

“All right spit it out,” she huffed when they got into the car. “I can tell you’ve been antsy all day.”

He let out a sigh. He loved her so much. He never had to over-explain himself with her. The way he always did with Tommy.

“When you guys do the staff swim on Saturdays, how often is Eddie there?”

She blinked at the question. It was the last thing she would have thought he would ask.

“Almost every week,” Robin said. “He wasn’t there last week because he had to help his uncle in the yard, but yeah. If he can be there, he will.”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Does he play around usually or does he do laps and shit?”

She frowned as she thought back. “He’s usually doing laps when we get there and then plays around with us when we get in the pool.”

“Is he doing a basic breaststroke or...?” he hedged, biting on his bottom lip.

“All right, what’s with the twenty questions?” Robin replied. “Just ask what’s really on your mind.”

Steve let out a long breath. “Is there a chance he could have been trained to swim and not just taught?”

She sat back in the passenger seat and thought about it.

“Huh.”

“Yeah,” he said dryly. “Because Robin, he’s fucking good. Like could be better than me with the right coach good.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Wait, really?”

Steve nodded.

They sat on that thought the rest of the way home.

~

Eddie got home from his swim and immediately hopped into the shower. He hated showering in locker rooms. Even when they were supposedly empty. Too many close calls with the jocks at his high school to feel safe in those things.

When he got out his Uncle Wayne was sitting on the armchair reading the newspaper.

“You know those things are going go the way the dodo any day now, right?” he teased, flopping on the nearby sofa.

“Uh-huh,” Wayne said dryly, not bothering to look up. “You’re back early.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “The rec center general manager was having her son’s birthday party today so I dipped out early.”

Wayne put down his paper and took off his glasses. “They didn’t tell you they’d need to use the pool? That’s not fair, Ed.”

“No, no,” Eddie said waving his hands back and forth. “They were using the kiddie pool. They were just super loud and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with just lifeguards today with Robin helping out.”

“She getting paid for that?” Wayne said, steely-eyed.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yes Uncle Wayne, they were asked if they wanted to and were paid overtime for it.”

Wayne nodded curtly and went back to his paper. “I went to the library and looked up that Harrington fellow. Five gold medals, two silver and a bronze. Probably would have had even more gold medals if it weren’t for that accident at the beginning of the games.”

“Tragic,” Eddie said. He was aiming for sarcastic but it came out more sincere than he would have liked.

“I think it was sabotage.”

Eddie’s head whipped up to look at his uncle. “You want to repeat that?”

Wayne carefully folded the paper and set it on the side table next to him. He pulled off his glasses and looked him in the eye. “I think it was a deliberate attempt to get Steve out the games.” Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Now I don’t know if it was meant to go as far as it did, but without a doubt that jumping board was tampered with.”

Eddie sat back and looked at him skeptically. “You shitting with me right now?” Wayne shook his head. “Because why would anyone do that? He only did okay in the second Olympics he was in. He didn’t even medal the first time.”

“Because they were throwing around phrases like ‘world record’ and ‘best swimmer of his generation’ about Steve Harrington at Beijing,” Wayne explained. “Like proper news worthy stuff. All eyes would have been on him and I’m betting that whoever it was wanted him out.”

Eddie sat back on the sofa with a “Huh.” He pulled out his phone and pulled up the internet. He typed in Steve Harrington’s name and the top results was his 2008 Olympic trials. Which Eddie privately wondered if someone paid heavily for that.

He clicked on the link. The final swim for butterfly and no one else was even in frame. He could hear the zoooom, click, of the camera zooming back out. Hargrove came in second, Hagan third and then everyone else was tight cluster of bodies at the finish line.

“Holy shit,” Eddie breathed. “He’s not just good. He’s God’s gift to swimming, son of Poseidon levels of ability here. If you’re right and someone did this to him, I hope they fucking hang for it.”

“Kick him out of the sport at the very least,” Wayne said gruffly. “Maybe even criminal charges if they call pull them.”

Eddie nodded. “Speaking of criminal charges, how the hell did you convince Chief Hopper to get me off mine? Because I should have gotten probation at least. A criminal record and jail time at the worst.”

Wayne looked him straight in the eye. “Because I know everyone deserves a second chance. Not everyone is like your daddy. He used up every ounce of goodwill he had with everyone before they locked him up threw away the key. Hopper was a delinquent before he got into a big enough trouble and his parents sent him to military school.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. That explained a lot more than anything else he knew about the man. “And you what? Covered it up for him? Took the fall? What?”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

Eddie leveled his uncle with a glare. “It must have been something big because he picks me up every day and is part of the trio that has to sign off on my paper work. That’s not a small favor, Uncle Wayne.”

“That’s certainly true,” he agreed. “I was a character witness for him to adopt his daughter, Elinor. He’s pretty damn sure that if it wasn’t for me going to bat for him they would’ve never let him some much as foster let alone adopt.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, nodding thoughtfully. “That is a pretty big favor.”

“You being good to him?” Wayne asked after a moment.

Eddie reared his head back and tilted in confusion. “Who? Hopper?”

“No,” Wayne scoffed. “Steve. You might have not have known at first what he went through, but you do now. So are you being good to him?”

Eddie opened his mouth to instantly reply ‘of course!’ but he forced himself to stop and think about it. “I don’t really spend enough time with him to be one way or another, but I haven’t gone out of my way to be a dick, you know?”

Wayne nodded and then picked back up his paper and Eddie knew that was the end of that. He went back to watching videos of Steve completely smash his American teammates to smithereens. Like the way the guy moved through the water was like a hot knife through butter, it was that smooth.

Then he pulled up the video. The one that ended the guy’s Olympic dreams for good. They were all at the starting line and everything looked normal. Calm. Then the gun went off and suddenly it all went wrong. The spring board literal flew out from under Steve. He tried to correct his trajectory, but Eddie could see he only made it worse.

He clung to it desperately, but his head bashed the side and suddenly he was under. Sinking like a stone. People held their breath as they watched, waiting for him to surface again. But he didn't. Suddenly, a streak of white flashed by everyone and dove in, straight for him. The figure grabbed Steve and dragged him to the surface. When they both crested the surface, it revealed just exactly who his savior was.

Robin.

Somehow there wasn’t any blood, just a giant bruise where he hit his head. Eddie can tell he’s unconscious and Robin barely holding on. Then finally a couple of the coaches jumped in after them and helped pull him to edge of the pool where EMTs were waiting with a stretcher. They immediately wrapped his neck in brace and then carefully hauled him out of the water.

All this to fucking commentary. Like Eddie wanted to reach back in time and punch those assholes until they bled. Sure, tell people what happened. But this? This was disgusting. A play by play.

Eddie exited out of the video and threw his phone on the sofa next to him. Afraid of the water. That’s what Jeff had suggested back when he first started doing his community service. Murray had even suggested something to the like. But this? This cinched it.

Fuck.

“Would something like almost drowning make you afraid of the water?” Eddie asked out loud, chewing on his lip and rubbing the bottom of his lip.

Wayne looked up from his newspaper again with a questioning hum. So Eddie repeated the question. “Could do, I suppose. Trauma is a bit funny like that. Why do you ask?”

Eddie told him about Steve’s avoidance of main pool and how he stayed to the kiddie pool and endless pool. “Like he obviously takes showers and shit, so it’s not a complete aversion, but it’s something, right?”

Wayne hummed again, this time more thoughtfully. “Certainly sounds like it’s more than something, Ed.”

Eddie slapped his knees and stood up. “Right, I think I know what I need to do.” He grabbed his phone off the sofa and patted his pockets to make sure he had his keys.

“I’ll be back later,” he called out over his shoulder and Wayne hummed his acknowledgment that he heard him, before he was flying out the door.

He got in his van and drove straight over. He skidded to a stop in front of nice house in Loch Nora. He barely managed to yank the keys out of the ignition before storming up the stairs to the front door. He pounded on the door until Gareth opened it.

“Hey,” he said with a grin. “Your dad’s a psychologist, right?”

Gareth blinked at him a moment, unsure what was going on. “Dude, you do realize it’s barely ten o’clock on a Saturday? You know, that day most people use to sleep in?”

Eddie looked at his watch for a moment and then looked up at his friend with a chagrined expression. “Sorry, dude. I can come back later if you want.” He jutted his thumb behind him at his van.

Gareth peered around him and then looked at Eddie blearily. “No, no I don’t want to unleash you on the unsuspecting populous when you get like this.” He turned around and waved for Eddie to follow.

Eddie bounced on his toes for a moment trying to decide if he should come in or not. He was about to decide not, when Mrs. Hughes came around the corner.

“Eddie!” she cried cheerfully. “You’re just in time for breakfast. I’ll throw another couple of slices of bacon on the griddle for you.”

So he came in, lured by the promise of bacon.

“So what did you need to my dad about?” Gareth asked, setting the table for breakfast.

Eddie jumped, nearly forgetting he had a mission. “There’s this guy at the pool they have me doing community service at, who has a shit ton of trauma and I wanted to ask him for advice on not accidentally fucking the guy up worse, you know?”

“That’s admirable, Eddie,” Dr. Hughes said, coming into the kitchen with the newspaper. “Trauma is such a tricky thing and by educating yourself in knowing where the common landmines are is good place to start.”

Eddie sighed in relief. He had been worried that Gareth’s dad would tell him to keep his nose out of it.

So once breakfast was on the table and they had dug in a bit, Gareth’s twin Gethin having spent the night at a friend’s, Eddie started telling Dr. Hughes all about Steve.

Dr. Hughes nodded. “Trauma in relation to pain is a tricky thing to unravel because they avoid the thing for fear of getting hurt again.”

Eddie nodded, soaking up everything and even taking notes. “Thanks, Dr. H, this was really helpful. I won’t feel so nervous around him anymore.”

“You’re a good kid, Eddie,” Dr. Hughes murmured. “I’m glad my personal psych profile was able to help in keeping you out of jail. It never sat right with me that poor people have to resort to crime to stay afloat and then be punished more severely for it.”

Eddie blushed. “Thanks for that, too.”

He knew was reductive to claim that it was Hopper that got him off, especially when so many people came out to help him stay out of jail and out of having a criminal record. But Hopper’s testimony was certainly the most memorable.

He finished breakfast and then spent time with Gareth going over the next session of their current D&D game.

Come Monday, he was going to help Steve in every way he could. Because if anyone knew the consequences of having a shit hand dealt you, it was Eddie.

~

Part 5

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @eriquin @tartarusknight @gloomysoup @morallyundefined

[flowery-laser-blasts]

Within this world we love we’re just like beans in a Naco, packed tightly!

I really like the concept of SPYxFAMILY's finding love in a found family. Not blood related but bound together. Gotta catch up on episodes uuuu...

But yeah little evil-in-the-make kiddy Ron got a hard grip on my heart.

Synopsis CRIMExFAMILY KP-AU?

Drew Theodore P. Lipsky, but to the world known as Dr. Drakken, is on a mission to take over the world by pulling the heist of the century; stealing the [classified] from G.J.

Through criminal intel, he finds out that there's an academy in which a lot of G.J.'s agents children go to either in order to get ahead in society or train to become future G.J. agents.

So what do you do? Adopting a kid ofc.

Ron Stoppable, a kid with mystical monkey powers that he obtained by accident, ends up in the care of the mad scientist. Lucky them!

Ron gets enrolled into the academy who in turn ends up in the class of Miss Go. Who unbeknownst to everyone is in reality the world's greatest assassin/burglar. She too had the idea of getting closer to G.J. by directly being in contact with their children cause hey, kids tell LOTS of stuff.

Drew gets a job as school nurse/doctor(???) and works closely with Miss Go. Eventually both of them know that the other knows a bunch about G.J. and coincidentally the same [classified] both are after.

Neither of them know their true identity and both of them use make up to hide themselves in public.

Ron accidentally ruins all preparation for the capers with his monkey powers. Eventually all three of them find out what's going on and work together. Ron doesn't want to lose his new found parents once the goal is obtained and so he often tries to get them to hook up and fall for each other. In the mean time, there's girl in Ron's class, he tries to impress her but... he's evil and she's training hard to become a future G.J. agent!

That's basically what I got in my head.

[journey-to-the-attic]

Pspspspspsps do you have any HCs for IK babysitting the little guys

okay keep in mind i don't actually know what happened in that kid pop quiz, so this is the literal premise of "these got turned into little primary school boys".

how i imagine this happening: satan + solomon are brewing some dastardly potion and asmo + simeon come in to chat with/ask them about what's going on. lucifer walks in, gets highly suspicious and tries to intervene, solomon accidentally drops something into the cauldron, and then it's hiss, BANG, child

i'll put the boys at around 7 years old both physically and mentally - they retain their usual memories, but they're kind of vague and hand-wavey about what exactly they remember - so they recognise everyone they're meant to but don't know why in particular

the potion going BANG happens at the rad and prof baal is down the hall, so they (attracted by the sound of explosions, their one true love) quickly show up

when they open the door there are five little boys sitting around in various states of shock. solomon turns around and sees this crazy-looking adult in with big glowing goggles and spiky hair, and also has the distinct feeling he's done something wrong, and subsequently starts crying

this sets asmo off, which sets simeon off, which makes satan angry so now he's loudly scolding them for crying for no reason

lucifer just sits there silently, apparently trying to process everything in his now significantly smaller brain

prof baal can only do one thing. leave

and call diavolo

who calls ik because he can't get the boys to stop crying, and when asked for help barbatos just inadvertently made solomon cry more

eventually ik, reeling somewhat, gets them all calmed down and ascertains what happened

unfortunately the two main guys who would be able to figure out a reverse potion are little boys now. so diavolo takes the issue to wiz and ik continues to hang out with the kids

it's. fun?? it's also incredibly jarring

big news! wiz is going to need at least a weekend to analyse the remains of the potion and reverse engineer its effects! the kids are going to have to stay at the castle in the mean time!

so let's get to know them:

lucifer: very serious and earnest - tries to act mature and rein the others in, which is mostly ineffective. likes having his hand held but won't admit it. very particular about keeping himself neat and gets annoyed when he feels he's being talked down to. spends most of his time quietly following ik around.

satan: closer to 6yo and very energetic - runs around exploring things, crawls into whatever spaces he can fit into to. his lucifer-grudge manifests in one of those kiddie rivalries where he has to prove he's the COOLEST one. likes to be read to when he's calm, dislikes it heavily when lucifer is praised in front of him

simeon: just the sweetest little guy... very smiley and bright, seeks approval to an almost worrying degree, kind of clumsy. a little shy around the other boys but super outgoing with the grown-ups (and ik + luke), tries to help out even when he doesn't know what he's doing, and consequently breaks things

solomon: also very energetic, very loudly curious, asks a lot of questions but is moving too fast to actually hear the answers. one of those kids with grabby hands and very little sense of personal space. also keeps having magic accidents because he's not great at controlling his powers in this state

asmo: cheerful but also very blunt and honest with his words. cries quite easily but is also easily consoled; enjoys playing make-believe and dress-up, but very insistent that you do it HIS way. likes being carried around and gets a little crabby if he doesn't get attention for too long

the others are involved in looking after the boys as well but i'm just going to focus on ik for brevity's sake

ik has at least three of the kids surrounding her at all times

at any given moment, at least one of them wants to be carried. another one has something cool to give her. another one wants her to follow them and look at something. lucifer is probably still clinging to her hand the entire time.

the other boys play. lucifer reads a little bit, tries to tell them off, then spends the rest of his time walking around and looking for ik so that she will hold his hand. nevertheless he will look away when asked about this and insist it's nothing

solomon spends a not insignificant amount of time trying to cause as much trouble for barbatos as possible - he's clearly conspiring with some of the little ds as well - and forces ik to go on constant tours around the castle with him so that he can ask her questions at a billion miles per hour

he keeps pointing at things and accidentally making them explode or erupt into flames, or trying to conjure pretty lights and instead summoning bats

he walks into the kitchen with a massive rat in his hands and barbatos almost bodily hurls him out of the window

satan can sprint around the entire castle (including up and down the towers) before he exhausts himself, and he is the bane of lucifer's seven year old life because he will not stop BOTHERING him

satan can theoretically still read at his usual level but he 1. can't sit still long enough do so and 2. now lacks the neural power to comprehend super complex paragraphs, so when he tuckers himself out, he makes ik read him super morbid history books from the castle library

(lucifer is there too, sitting cross-legged and listening solemnly. when satan gets squeamish or spooked he looks at lucifer and reminds himself that he MUST get a better grade in scary stories than him)

(inevitably satan falls asleep and ik will let lucifer pick a book to switch to. when satan wakes up he is inevitably very mad about this)

asmo REFUSES to exert his little legs on the castle steps, so ik has to carry him, never mind the fact that she is also not very well equipped to be taking those stairs

ik plays house with him and pretends to be a little old grandpa, which delights asmo to no end

ik brushes out his hair and he insists on returning the favour, and then tangles a bunch of ornaments in her hair because he thinks it'll look pretty

sometimes he walks into things and cries even if it didn't hurt at all because he likes being fussed over

simeon's just happy to be here!

he tries to help the little ds with chores but mostly just undos their progress (and trips himself down the stairs in the process)

he likes being doted on but doesn't know how to express that, so instead he'll follow ik around, looking at her with these really big hopeful eyes

the boys like to play tag or hide-n-seek in the castle gardens, though the grounds are so extensive that they will inevitably get lost

lucifer has a knack for finding them - he'll silently slip off while ik and barbatos are wondering what to do, and come back with everyone in tow like a border collie herding sheep

when he's finally persuaded into joining their games, satan pushes him into a pond and then immediately tattles on himself because he feels bad

ik gets them to hold hands until they've made up (and barbatos takes a picture that both satan and lucifer will hunt him down for once they're back to normal)

they make fairy cakes together and asmo's decorations are 1. a flower, 2. himself, 3. a cat, 4. himself again, and 5. someone getting their head chopped off????

[disneyprincemuke]

more wee thoughts on dad logan

- logan taking baby girl to ballet or afterschool sport lessons on his offdays

- logan letting baby girl “do his makeup” (he looks a bit like a circus clown at the end of it)

- (angsty lol) logan not knowing what to do when baby girl just wants mummy but she’s on a night out or smn so he’s near tears trying to figure out what to do for his baby

- jv.f1 buying baby girl one of those kiddie f1 cars and at races which are close to mum and baby’s home, u r very likely to see baby being pushed by one mechanic or another in her wee race car

- (have we just decided logan’s a girl dad cause low-key i can also see him being a really good boy dad)

- logan getting really protective over his baby if she was being bullied at school, like literally STORMING into the principals office absolutely FUMINGGG

- logan, jv.f1, oscar, liam, alex, dalton, and mum all cheering for baby girl when she enters her first go kart race

- even if she doesn’t get on the podium, they have their own celebration at home, complete w rose water champagne bottle popping and one of logan’s old f3 or f2 trophies (they duct tape over his first name and write hers) (do the trophy recipients get their names engraved?)

- logan taking her tiny hand in his to get a handprint for his helmet, she doesn’t like it cause now her hand is all inky and log has to rush after pressing her hand on the blank paper to wash it off before she cries

ok i think that’s enough for now

i <3 dad!logan

—🎀

omg i love that? logan is definiTELY going to be baby's biggest fan too like he'd be the oNE SCREAMING for his kid LMFAO

logan takes many pictures after his baby girl does his makeup tho and brags about it!

yo what is ur problem with this angsty hc i thought we were hehe and hahaing fun times why are you making me cry

OMG BABy girl getting pushed around by williams staff and having her own custom uniform because she insisted that she wants to be just like daddy

logan is definitely just dad coded, ain't matter what gender that baby is, best believe he's going to deliver

logan would flip that school over and he'd definitely try and intimidate that kid into apologising to his kid too trust me he told me himself

kart race with a helmet that logan had custom made just for her because she's a little germephone about using things that don't exactly belong to her (gets it from mum)

LMAOO TAPING OVER HIS NAME TO WRITE HERS IS SO THOUGHTFUL AND AODRABLE WHAT PLEASEEE

baby girl sargeant swatting logan on the face on accident tho hehe

[mx-piggy]

Just finished season 1 of the Afterparty and I felt like writing my thoughts about it. I'd also love to chat with other people about this show, so feel free to comment, rb or DM me! Spoilers ahead!

I'm definitely going to have to rewatch it at some point (maybe after season 2 is fully out, so I can watch them back-to-back), because I want to see how everything plays out in hindsight, and see what details I can pick up on.

I started watching this show because I saw a gif from the most recent episode in season 2 ('Hannah', I think) and it looked kinda gay. That's how I started watching the Last of Us. And many other shows. I'm a lonely, desperate queer.

Overall, I really enjoyed it! I'm a fan of all the genres it combined, and I think they worked really well together. I feel like, even if you don't gel well with the comedy, the compelling mystery and characters make it worth a watch. I loved the format of having a different sort of genre in each episode, with my favourite styles being Chelsea and Yasper. And, I adore unreliable narrators.

The only episode I went into knowing the genre (or in Zoe's case, the medium) were Aniq and Zoe, but I correctly guessed that Brett was going to have an action-style 'movie', Yasper's was going to be a musical, Chelsea's was going to be a thriller kind of movie and that Maggie's was going to be kiddie-fied. Guessing the genre's not an achievement though, despite my sense of pride.

I didn't correctly guess the killer until I did my thing of reading a reader-insert fic just before the finale, and a line in there (something to do with 'keeping secrets') made me think 'oh shit'. It wasn't necessarily a spoiler, but it did make it click for me, and I noticed things in the finale leading up to the reveal, like Yasper being absent from when Aniq woke up. Before that spoiler, though, I guessed it was probably Walt, though I did suspect he was just a red herring. Part of me also had this crack theory that it'd be a 'Who Shot Mr. Burns' thing where Maggie killed him by accident (funny how they share the same name), or that she'd witnessed Xavier fall accidentally.

Speaking of which, I think the conclusion was satisfying and made sense in the way Danner explained it. I'm hoping it'll hold up on rewatch- I'm guessing it will. It made sense, and I think it's impressive for this kind of comedy show to commit to having one of their charismatic main characters being the killer, instead of copping out and make it be someone we don't really care about. Well, I cared about Yasper at the very least. He was one of my favourite characters, and I'm very sad that he's probably rotting in prison. But, I'm glad he had his moment of fame.

Since this is fiction, I'm allowed to say 'fair enough' to Yasper murdering Xavier. I think everyone at that party should have been more grateful to Yasper for getting rid of him. (/lh) Though I think it would have been hilarious if everyone was actually grateful, instead of them all celebrating that the killer had been caught. That said, even though I love Yasper and I condone what he did, it felt kinda nice for Danner's investigation to be celebrated, even though I'm not a fan of cops.

That said, I do have a small issue with the finale that is entirely personal to me and my preferences, and this could easily be fixed if I wrote an angsty fanfiction like I normally do. So, my problem is that I wish that the revelation of what Yasper did had more of an emotional impact on Aniq. I know that they haven't spoken in two years prior to that night, but they were best friends in high school, and I think it's kind of dismissive that they went straight from 'Aniq feels betrayed that his friend would do something like this' to 'now he's kissing Zoe in the car'. I know it's a comedy and it'd be weird for the season to end on such a depressing note, especially since in the end the murder isn't taken that seriously by Yasper (in a scene I sincerely enjoyed and felt kind of happy for him in). Speaking of which, I read some analysis on Yasper and the perception of success in terms of careers that was really interesting and I'll link here, so that kind of makes that scene a little sad because Yasper would rather be an infamous killer than a guy with a successful career. But, y'know it's a comedy so I'll try not to think about that or I'll be sad.

Now I'll get onto the characters, specifically the main ones. I like them all as characters. I'll only go into depth about the characters who get an episode named after them, Xavier and Walt.

Aniq is really charismatic, and I think he's a fun main character to have even if he's not the most interesting necessarily. I think it makes sense to have such a puzzle-oriented character as the main character in a murder mystery. Plus, he's a genuinely nice guy, so it makes it so you don't want to see him get sent to prison. I'm pretty sure he's the main character of season 2 as well, so I'm happy to see him return.

I really like Zoe, too! I was worried that she would just be 'the artsy, perfect love interest' that you see in teen movies, so I really liked to see her story of struggling with who she is and what she wants. It really resonated with me, and her episode was really interesting to watch. Personally, her episode reminded me a little of BoJack Horseman (the show, not the character). I don't really understand why her episode has such a harsh rating on IMDB, because I think the storytelling and use of animation to further characterise and flesh out Zoe was really effective.

I like Zoe and Aniq's relationship too, and I think that's really impressive because of how I struggle to get on board with canon relationships in rom-coms. A lot of the time, it feels like I'm watching a kid holding their Barbie and Ken dolls in either hand and repeating 'don't you think they should kiss?' But, with Aniq and Zoe, they had genuine chemistry (no pun intended) and they both work as individual characters outside of their relationship.

Yasper is one of my favourite characters in the show, probably second to a character I'll get onto in a minute. I think he's a great subversion of the 'best friend hypeman' trope, where he actually has motivations and goals outside of his best friend. I was worried that his character was going to just be the 'oblivious loudmouth best friend', and, like with Zoe, I was thankfully proven wrong. He was a delightfully complex character who did the world a service. I can't be bothered to analyse him in the detail I'd like to, so all I'll say is that I am going to spend some time tomorrow reading some angsty Yasper fics.

So, my favourite character in the show was Chelsea, and I'm honestly so in love with her it's insane. Her character was so complex and interesting, and on a personal level she was really easy to empathise with. I knew early on that she wasn't the killer, and that she was just a fucked up woman who deserved so much better in life. It made me so happy to see her making amends with Zoe, and to see how nice Yasper and Aniq were to her, because all she really needed was to escape the high schooler judgement and be afforded some compassion and kindness. And, I found it simultaneously heartbreaking and heartwarming that she was so used to the feeling of being judged and ostracised that she didn't get revenge on Xavier and wrote that apology on Aniq's hand for him drinking her cat roofies. Her arc was the most satisfying to watch for me. I'm devastated that she's only in season 1 (though I get it from a narrative standpoint). Hoping she will live on through fanfiction.

Brett was also a surprise to me, because I assumed he was just going to be a total loser who thinks he's a badass and that's it. But, I really like how he was actually a decent dad to Maggie as well. Like, sure, you shouldn't leave your kid alone in a car for a prolonged period or speed when your kid's in the car (or at all), but still. It was really sweet to see the joy on Maggie's face when her dad was living out some Fast and the Furious fantasy. And, I like how the motivation of his episode was to get the koala back. It made me giggle.

Danner was a really interesting character to watch. Again, I'm not a fan of cops, but I personally feel like her character is well-done. She's someone working against a shitty system as best she can. She'll do what's right as opposed to staying in favour with her colleagues who believe in protecting their own than pursuing true justice. I like how she's very unconventional in her approach, where she knows she'll find something relevant in seemingly unnecessary details. It makes her a really interesting investigative character. Plus, I really like Danner's personality; she's also a very charismatic character, minus the being a cop thing.

Walt wasn't my favourite character but I still liked him enough. It was kinda depressing (in a fun way, though) at times to see him be so overlooked by his peers. I thought it was funny that, in Maggie's version of events, he's a puppet who just says 'Walt'. And, I liked that he's so overlooked that his designated episode (High School) isn't named after him and we don't really get his perspective as much as we did with the other characters. It fit a lot with the outcast, background role of the character, where his own party, his own story isn't even about him. It was nice that they remembered his name in the end.

Maggie is so precious to me fr. She's such a sweet kid and I want to adopt her. Her joy is so infectious.

Now onto Xavier. As a character, Xavier was really incredible. As a person, I'm overjoyed that someone took the initiative to dispose of him. His relationship with Yasper was so interesting, and I like that we got to see his origins as a kinda dorky teenager who wants to reinvent himself and is heartbroken 'heterosexually' when his best friend wants to break up their band. So much so that he gets into a fight with the guy his best friend definitely isn't in love with. But, he fucked over my darling Chelsea and my guy Aniq. He makes shitty music. The only good thing he ever did was make Maggie's favourite movie. Overall, he is basically Jamie Tartt, if Jamie was murdered before he could become the man we all know and love today. I mean, neither of them wear shirts under their suits, and Dave Franco and Phil Dunster have some physical similarities.

I'm really looking forward to watching season 2 and to rewatching the whole show. And to reading some angsty Aniq/Yasper/Xavier fanfics. And to hopefully finding some fanart to reblog. I need to consume fan content for this show and these characters. Especially Chelsea.

[tinalbion]

Oh! Could I also get Corey when his s/o is being bullied like he was in the movie? I need to know, for my soul!

Omg so, I’ve been working on this on and off in between breaks and lunches at work. I have wanted to work on nothing but Corey stuff and it’s honestly SUCH a problem, but I finally got this done for you, and I just also want to know how I did! Please, if you like it, let me know, if I should continue more Corey writing, let me know! I love this man and I have no issue using more breaks at work dedicated to this man. 

Please, let me know your thoughts! 

Hope you enjoy, the fluff hon! Then if I did well enough, we’re gonna get into the fun stuff  😏

“Need You Here” ||

Corey Cunningham x Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: Mature; physical bullying, mentions of death, angst, fluff, comfort, Corey being a sad boy because he deserves to cry

Length: 2.2k

Your head slammed against the brick wall and you let out a pathetic yelp of pain, you knew there would be blood after that hit. You were right. 

Two of your high school bullies still tormented you well after you graduated, all you wanted was to grab a drink and a snack or two from the gas station, nothing too crazy. Of course, they spotted you from across the street as they walked down the road, on their way to who knows what, but of course, they made time to mess with you. 

Thankfully, you didn't go inside to buy your treats yet, knowing them, they would have destroyed your things or taken your stuff for themselves, so you stepped inside quickly and hoped that the clerk being present would bid you enough time to get away from them.

That was a bust. Instead of actually buying anything, you slipped out when they were distracted, but they weren't occupied enough to not notice you slip out the door. They followed you and immediately began to taunt you before you could even take a step onto the asphalt.

"Where you going, Y/N? Not gonna stay to hang out with us?" Called one of them, a girl named Trixie. She was the main issue you had throughout school, and for some reason, she despised your presence. 

You'd done nothing to really grab her attention, you did what you had always done: keep to yourself. You had friends that you spoke to, but no matter how much you tried to fly under the radar, you'd always end up battered and bruised because of Trixie and her friend Laura. 

You'd stayed put on the ground as the two girls surrounded you, you found it best to keep down because you'd end up right back on your ass again, what was the point. 

Your eyes fluttered closed and you figured they'd beat you just as bad as the last time, so you brace yourself, but you felt confused when nothing came and all you heard was shouting. 

"I said leave them alone!" A voice rang out, this time clearer than the first. 

"Why don't you mind your business, kiddy killer?" Trixie spat as she took her attention from you. 

You looked up and squinted to see Corey Cunningham of all people standing there, his brown curly hair whipped around in the autumn wind, and his face seemed hard and unforgiving behind his glasses. You were thankful to see him again despite the circumstances. He parked his bike off to the side and made his way closer to you. 

This wouldn't be the first time Corey had saved you from situations like this, nor was it uncommon for you to find him in similar affairs. You had each other's backs when you found the courage to step up, and you breathed a sigh of relief when the girls took another uneasy step back. 

No matter how much they wanted to stay and fight, they were more uneasy being in the presence of Corey Cunningham. He had a reputation, though it was undesired, it helped him sometimes through certain situations. He had been known to have killed a young kid named Jeremy on Halloween night several years prior. He claimed it was an accident, he was panicked and was trying to escape the attic he was locked in, accidentally kicking it down with such force that it knocked Jeremy over the railing, the fall killing him. 

He lived in agony every day for years, you saw it in his eyes when you'd pass by him on the street, the permanent face of shame and regret. Everyone needed a new boogeyman to seek out when their tempers flared and their anger consumed them. Why not point the blame at Corey? 

You got to your feet as the girls took several more steps back, and finally, Corey had enough and waved his arms up in a quick motion, shouting at them to leave you alone. They took off running down the street, leaving you and him alone in the parking lot off to the side of the gas station. 

"Hey, you okay?" He asked as he reached out for your hand. 

You took it and grunted as you got to your feet. "Yeah, I'll manage. Nothing I haven't gotten before. Thanks for scaring them off. Assholes…" You dusted off your clothes and let out a sigh, wondering just how you'd explain the bruises to your family once again. 

"It's no problem, hope they didn't get you too badly…" He looked down at you and checked your face, craning his neck slightly to make sure there weren't any other scars or open wounds. "Doesn't look awful, but I'd get some ice on your cheek."

"You know," you began with a smirk as you wiped your eyes, "you really saved my ass today. I appreciate it a lot, Corey… thank you." 

He seemed to blush and look away from you, too embarrassed to hold eye contact. "Ah, it's nothing really, you always do the same for me… it's nothing."

"No, it IS something, I really do appreciate it. I wish I was better at sticking up for myself, I hate being so useless." 

He sighed and scratched at the back of his head, his curls ruffled beneath his touch. "I know what you mean, I hate dealing with those assholes I run into all the time. We just gotta stick together, right?"

You smiled wider and nodded. "Absolutely. So uh, what are you doing right now? I was gonna go back to my place and watch a movie, but now I kinda don't want to walk alone…"

"I could walk you if you want…?" 

"Did you maybe want to…come over and hang out? It's been a while."

The feelings that welled up inside of him were confusing, his heart raced when he looked into your eyes, so he looked down and adjusted his glasses. "Oh uh, yeah sure, that could be fun."

You smirked. "I'm gonna get some snacks, come on." You pulled at his arm and you both went inside to peruse the selection. 

When you both ended up at your place, your parents left a note stating that they went out to visit some friends for the evening, they left you money for some pizza and they'd be back in a few hours. They trusted you and you thanked them for this wonderful opportunity. 

After he offered to help clean up your wounds, you and Corey sat in your room with blankets and pillows piled everywhere, watching some cheesy horror movie that was much too tame for either of you to really pay attention to. Instead, you both talked about your jobs and how life had been lately in Haddonfield, and Corey had been very quiet when certain topics came up. He shifted away every once in a while and refused to look in your direction, you took notice of how flustered and uneasy he sat there. 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked about it," you blurted as you looked away. "It's just… I wish I could show everyone you're not the monster they make you out to be. It's bullshit, it's not fair."

Corey sat there beside you feeling more comfortable than he ever did in a long time, he sighed and gave a half-hearted shrug. "Hey, it's fine, nothing I can really do about that now, I'm just… I'm dealing with it. But thanks, means a lot."

“Well, it’s not like you’re a bad guy, it was an accident.”

“You don’t even know the whole story, Y/N… and what about you? What have you done to be targeted by those girls?" His head lifted up and watched you carefully, his large brown eyes peeking over the rim of his glasses. 

"Well, that's not as… in-depth as your story, it’s honestly nothing. I existed and they knew something in me wasn’t able to face conflict, so they exploited that. I was never good at fighting, never wanted to learn if I could, you know?”

He sat there and shifted on the floor as he leaned back against the mattress, unable to give the right words to comfort you. “It sucks that we can’t have a break between the both of us, huh." 

You scoffed and nodded in response as your eyes stared at the television, but your hand patted the blanket a couple of times to feel the softness of the material, but your hand accidentally touched his as you both sat there. You retracted your hand and apologized, not wanting to upset him, but he stopped you. He liked the feeling of your skin against his as you both shared the comfortable silence. 

His eyes fell onto your hand as he slipped his fingers through yours, his stare slowly made its way up to your face and you saw that he was okay with this. A small smirk played at the corner of his lips and he allowed the tips of his fingers to float across your skin, slowly skating up to your arm until his hand wrapped around your wrist and sat there. 

"You don't mind-"

"No," you interrupted him, "I don't mind." 

That gave him the courage to progress further, so he tempted fate by allowing his hand to explore further up your arm, which sent chills down your flesh. 

To be honest with yourself, you wanted this for as long as you could remember, you enjoyed Corey's company and you cherished the comfort you felt with him. He wasn't like much anyone else in Haddonfield, and the times you both shared with each other only solidified the feeling you felt welling in the depth of your gut.

You made the first move, slow and gentle, unsure if he'd push you away at your attempt. Instead, you were greeted with a silent pleading, the look in his eyes looked at you with a knowing glance. The smile on your face only grew as you pushed yourself closer to him, you could almost feel his breath on your cheek. 

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" The shaking in his voice was too strong to ignore, he was nervous. "With me?"

You nuzzled your face up to him and let out a sigh, you smiled and placed your lips on his. At first, he sat there completely stiff and unresponsive, but the moment you smiled against his lips, he warmed up to the affection and kissed you in return. Only moments later, his breathing picked up and he was already trying to hold back the best he could, the emotions within him were bubbling to the surface, and he groaned at the sudden touch of your tongue along his bottom lip. 

Corey wanted nothing more than to take you right here right now, but as much as it screamed within him to do so, he pushed himself back and panted heavily as he stared at you through half-lidded eyes. 

"I want to, I really do…"

"But..?" You asked, just as breathless as he was. 

"But I don't want you to think that's all I want."

You scoffed and shook your head. "You think this is all I want? No, I LIKE you, Corey, a lot. I've been wondering just how nice it was to kiss you."

His face turned so red that you giggled, he lowered his face from your gaze and tried to think straight, but he didn't have much time since you had placed your hand on his chin, which forced him to look up at you. 

"I can stop if you want me to."

"Why me? I'm a mon-"

"Don't," you warned sharply, "you're not a monster, and I don't see you that way. I never did. You're Corey, just a guy who got caught up in some shit that he didn't mean to do. And I don't care about all of that, it happened, and you regret it, so why let that stop you from doing anything in your life and enjoying what time you have?"

You had a point, he sat and wallowed in pity and self-loathing since the accident, he felt that he should never feel joy again, but how long was it appropriate to grieve for a life you've taken? He didn't know, you didn't know, all you both knew was that he wanted to live and he should be allowed to do so. 

Corey sat cross-legged and began to wipe away at the tears that threatened to fall, but before he could, you placed both hands on either side of his face and kissed his cheeks gently. 

"It's okay to cry, you know," you cooed. 

His face dropped as he stared at you wordlessly. Suddenly, he lurched forward and flung his arms around you tightly, holding onto you as if you were the only thing that could anchor himself here, and he began to sob against your chest. 

You stroked his curly brown hair and wrapped your other arm around him, leaning your head against his. You both sat there for what seemed like hours, and he couldn't explain just how much he appreciated your kindness. 

After stuffing yourselves with pizza, breadsticks, and emotions, you both sat there as the credits of the movie rolled. His head leaned on your shoulder as his eyes drooped closed, he was falling asleep against your shoulder as your cheek rested against his soft curls. 

With a small huff and a large smile, you drifted off beside him and made sure he had a restful night of peace.

[rogueshadeaux]

Chapter Nine — Homecoming

“Things are…different.” Dad continued. “They’ll always be different now. But maybe that’s not bad. I get to share things with you two I’ve been hiding for years. The powers and this reservation and…” he trailed off, glancing behind me. “And that house. I get to be honest with you two, finally.” 

4.4k words | 13 min read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of familial loss

Dad eventually drove towards a comfortable neighborhood, nothing like the suburbs in Portland or our rural street back home. It was the best of both of those worlds; homes close enough for kids to meet up, chucking snowballs at each other from snow forts made in well spaced yards. Each house had a decent yard, decorated with defunct gardens or empty above-ground pools or kiddie playgrounds. It looked perfect, a place I was a bit regretful I didn’t get to grow up in. 

 Dad kept down the road, turning onto the concrete driveway of the worst looking house on the street; overgrown shrubbery in front of its brick sides, white paneled wood in need of a paint job and the long porch entirely void of, well, anything. The only evidence it had any life in it at all was the powder blue Volkswagen Beetle already in the driveway and the smoke rising from the brick fireplace. 

 Dad slowly crept into the driveway, coming to a stop at a snail's pace and eventually putting the truck in park, pulling the emergency break. He stared at the front of the house with an emotion I couldn’t even begin to understand, and I suddenly understood why he seemed so off; this house held so many memories. Echoes of a life Dad wanted and could never reach again. Haunted by the ghosts of everything he knew that once lived in that house. 

 Hell, I wouldn’t come back either, if I had a choice. 

 None of us had any choice though, especially when Betty came barreling out of the front door and onto the porch, waving us towards her. Summoning us. Dad sighed, mumbling a, “C’mon, let’s go,” and throwing open his door, stepping out. 

 Luckily, Dad had something to hold his attention, ripping him out of his depression: Brent. He was still soaked to the bone, shivering the moment his car door opened and still having to cough every now and then to get out the remaining water.

 “My God, what happened?” Betty demanded as we approached the house.

 “Training accident,” Dad shrugged, “Take him inside, will you? Jean, come help me get the bags.” 

 Dad left Brent with Betty, who ushered him into the house and closed the door behind her, saying something about the fireplace. Dad was already halfway to the truck by the time I turned again, leaving me to jog to catch up as he jumped into its bed. 

 “Here.” He said curtly, passing me my backpack and a duffle bag. I barely had any time to grip both before he let go, turning to the pile of other things. 

 “Dad?” 

 “Hm?” 

 “Are you okay?” 

 Dad stopped, mid-crouch, and sighed deeply, tense shoulders finally giving away to the pressure of whatever was wearing him down. “Yeah. Sorry, Jean, I’m just—“ he cut off, straightening and running a hand over his face. “There’s a lot going on, you know?” 

 “Yeah,” I whispered, finally able to at least empathize. So much was changing and shifting and being revealed and made irrelevant that…I sort of understood. 

 Dad turned to look at me, brows creased. “Hey,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. Things have been crazy, huh?” He laughed mirthlessly. “But it’ll — things will be okay. After what I saw today? How you and Brent did? I don’t doubt it.” 

 “Yeah, but,” I laid the duffle bag on the ground. It still had a price tag on it just like all the clothes Dad had yesterday, more proof that everything we knew from before was gone or being replaced. “Will things ever go back? Will we get to finish school or-or see everyone again, or—“ 

 Dad moved out of the truck, jumping to the ground beside me and gripping my shoulder, spinning me to face him. I hadn’t even realized I was tearing up until he wiped away a loose tear that was running down my cheek. “Listen, Regina. I…I can’t promise you that things will be the same. Honestly, they won’t be. Your life, it’s gonna permanently be split into this ‘before’ and ‘after,’ now that you know you’re a Conduit. 

 “I don’t know when we can go back. Until I can find out more about this Archangel shit, I’m not comfortable letting you two go back. But I’m not going to leave you two alone, okay? There’s nothing we can’t do if we stay together. Everything will be okay if we stay together. I’m going to contact your school and see what I can do about your exams. And hey, now that you know you’re Akomish, it’s as good a time as any to tell you you get free college, right?” 

 I snorted, rolling my eyes and laughing between shaky breaths. Leave it to Dad to try and brighten the mood. But it did take away the stress of wondering about scholarships and such. 

 “Things are…different.” Dad continued. “They’ll always be different now. But maybe that’s not bad. I get to share things with you two I’ve been hiding for years. The powers and this reservation and…” he trailed off, glancing behind me. “And that house. I get to be honest with you two, finally.” 

 Sniffing, I looked at him, asking, “Were you ever gonna tell us?” 

 “I’m…not sure. But I wanted to, you have no goddamn idea. There was always this worry that things would go wrong, and I didn’t want to risk you two getting hurt. What good that did. You could have died.” A shadow briefly crossed over his face as his thoughts casted a dark shadow in his mind, and I knew he was thinking about the Akurans. “But hey, now I can. And I will. Honesty from here on out, okay?” 

 He held up a pinky finger, and I chuckled again. A pinky promise. When we were younger, Dad used to tell us a pinky promise was law binding, an oath stronger than life itself. Any pinky promise you made had to be followed through, no matter how long it took. It’s what scored us our trip to Disneyland, it’s how Dad got us to keep good grades. And now, he was using it to carry so much more weight; a promise of clarity. Lord knows I needed it right now. Sniffing, I smiled gently, and wrapped my pinky around his. 

 “That’s my girl,” he whispered, eventually letting me go. “C’mon. Lemme show you where I grew up.” 

 Once Brent changed into his pajamas and warmed up a bit, Dad left with Betty to get the beds, promising food as well once he returned. 

 We got a quick tour of the house, pointed towards the bathroom and what would be our bedroom. What was once our bedroom. “You’ll have to share for now,” Dad said when he opened the door to drop off our things. “The basement was refurbished to be two extra rooms, but it’s so full of shit right now, we can’t get in there.” 

 That’s where I was now. Our room. An old nursery that looked way too cool to be an actual nursery. 

 In the absolute chaos that was the last few days, I completely neglected to remember the fact that my dad was not only the revolutionist Delsin Rowe, but one of my favorite artists. His street art during the Seattle Uprising was a big part of his gartering of support, statement pieces against the sudden martial law and DUP and complete decimation of Seattle as a whole for a woman’s power play. I’ve studied it, I’ve written bits on it, I’ve tried replicating the style. 

 And now I was standing in a room full of complete originals. 

 It wasn’t spray paint, his usual weapon of choice — doubt spray paint would have worked well in a nursery anyways. But it was definitely Rowe, there was no mistaking the style. It was a fun jungle theme with the classic Rowe twist; monkeys playing connect four, a tiger trying to shove itself into a tiny box. There was an elephant on one wall with a canvas in front of it, a paintbrush in its trunk. 

 But its red canvas was covered in terrible art, splashes and smears and splats of blue and silver paint along with two impossibly tiny handprints.

 I walked a bit closer to the canvas, squatting down to look at the handprints. Just below each, in beautiful simplistic cursive, were our names in black sharpie, 𝓑𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 and 𝓙𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓮. Our art. Our handprints. 

I laid my hand over the blue one with my name, laughing lightly. Was I really that small at some point? And to think, I considered my hands small now; these were miniscule. Impossibly tiny. I wonder if the elephant was here from the start, waiting for our contribution, or if Mom and Dad added it later. 

Mom. I moved my hand from the wall to look at the cursive. It was too neat, too perfect to be Dad’s; that had to be hers. She called me Jeanie, too? 

 I stayed staring at it for an impossibly long time, trying to soak up some piece of her by brushing the ink with the tip of my finger. Mom. She was here, helped us make this mess on the wall, probably helped us stamp our little hands on it too. Wrote our names. For some time, long ago, we were together, we did get to be a family. 

 And I didn’t remember a thing. 

 I’ll admit it, I teared up. I’ve always wanted time with my mom, always mourned everything we missed — the wound was now reopened, the twisting knife of the truth cutting it deeper. At some point, I did have Mom. Long ago, there were probably cuddles and love and laughs. Another goddamn thing ripped away, something I feared I’d never get back. Something I knew I’d never get back. 

 But I guess there was really no point to being sad if I knew it was gone. At least, I’d keep telling myself that.

I went to wipe my eyes, shaking my head and looking upwards to take a deep breath — and instead was left breathless. Up there, peppered on the popcorn ceiling were spots and swirls of neon light, their blue and pink glow dimmed by the sunlight pouring in from the open blinds. 

 Neon. Dad said that was Mom’s power. And somehow, evidence of it stayed safe in this house for years, possibly longer than I’d been alive. It was beautiful; the neon seemed to be hovering on its own extension, a few centimeters off of the ceiling but somehow still secure. Somehow still glowing. 

 I stood, going from flat feet to tiptoe as I tried to reach up and touch a pink swirl. ‘Course, I was too short to even hope to touch it. And the nursery was entirely bare of anything to stand on — so I was left to just stare up at the beautiful lights, constellations of our Mom’s past love for us. 

 Our mom. Right. I had a twin, who’d probably really like to see this. 

 I left the room, walking briskly down the short hallway to force Brent into gazing with me when I stopped once entering the living room. Brent was sitting on a plastic covered sofa, just staring into the flames of the fireplace, looking so…depressed. Off in a world that was dragging him down into the embers. He didn’t even hear me approaching, didn’t move until the sofa sank when I sat, only glancing at me and giving me a nod as acknowledgement. “You good?” I finally asked after an awkward moment.

 “Winter formal’s tonight.” 

 Oh. Wow. It was, wasn’t it? And Brent had a date. Had. “Mei would understand,” I began, Brent just rolling his eyes and getting off the old couch. “Hey, Brent—“ 

 “Don’t, Jean, okay?” He snapped, not looking back as he went to the kitchen on the other side of the spacious front area of the house, taking a solo cup from the pile Betty brought from the Longhouse. He moved to the sink, filling the glass with tap water. “It’s whatever.” 

“It’s not whatever,” I scoffed, standing. “It’s obviously bothering you—“ 

 “It isn’t—“ 

 “Don’t sit here and do that tough guy shit with me, dude.” I shut him down, moving around the sofa and instead leaning against the back of it, crossing my arms. “The past three days have been hell, I know that.”

 Brent didn’t respond, turning off the tap and taking a slow sip from the cup and looking out of the small window just above the sink’s backsplash. I waited until he lowered the cup, unmoving otherwise, to say, “She would get it. Anyone in their right mind would.” 

 “Tommy didn’t.” 

 “Tommy is an asshole,” I scoffed, “Who we both know jumps at the first chance to be the center of attention. He was whining at school about how we killed those guys and almost killed him—“ 

 Brent turned at that, slowly and lowly asking, “How do you know that?” 

 Oh, shit. Busted. “Okay, so I may have talked to Reese—“ 

 “Jean!” 

 “It was a ten minute phone call!” I added defensively.

 “You’re unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head and chucking the solo cup into the sink angrily. “Dad specifically told us not to talk to anyone and you’re over here just casually chatting up Reese—“ 

 “Oh don’t act like you wouldn’t run to Formal right now if you had the chance. I wanted to make sure she was alright because hey, if you don’t remember, I passed out in that alley—“ 

 “And I was shot, but I didn’t go starting a discord call to whine about it.” 

 Brent glared at me, crossing his arms. Angry, sure, but his eyes held more than that. Hurt. Fear. The same worry that everything was going to be different now. Could I blame him for lashing out? Hell, things were already different for him in a way I couldn’t even pretend to understand; guy’s best friend turned on him almost immediately, and he had to stand up his date for fear of his life. 

 I sighed, uncrossing my arms and instead using them to hold myself up against the couch. “I’m sorry. Not just about the call, but Mei and Tommy, too. It’s…I’m not ready. For this to change. Wanted to get to say goodbye, s’all.” 

 Brent softened a little, the tenseness leaving his shoulders. He held my gaze for a while longer before finally asking, “Reese say anything about Mei?” 

 “Cops talked to her, but that’s really it.” I sighed. 

 Brent slowly nodded, finally breaking his gaze to stare at his feet. “I should’ve asked her out sooner.” He muttered. “Might’ve gotten to know…” 

 He trailed off, the hope of fleeting maybe’s leaving him to always have to wonder what if? “You did get to know,” I said. “She asked you, didn’t she? And I know Mei; being a Conduit wouldn’t change a thing. She’d probably love it, say something about how it’ll help you two with your budding architecture business—“ 

 “Shut up,” Brent rolled his eyes. But he also chuckled. Good. 

 We fell into a more comfortable silence, an unspoken apology in the air as we moved on from the topic. “I was actually coming out here to tell you to check out the nursery. Look up, specifically.” 

 “‘Look up’?” Brent repeated, cocking an eyebrow. I just nodded, refusing to elaborate further and not following him as he left me to walk towards the hallway. He’d need the privacy. 

 Instead, I moved around the house, taking the time to be nosy. 

 The house looked like someone was in the middle of moving out; packed boxes shoved into the corners with tape, a lone couch in an otherwise empty living room. The electricity wasn’t on yet, but surprisingly held the heat from the fireplace well, leaving me to only need my sweater on to stay warm. The counters were covered in dust and yet the carpet looked clean as could be, a cordless vacuum hiding beside a coat closet. Was everything here…ours? Betty said she donated the cribs. Did Dad rush off, pack only the essentials before we moved to Chapman? 

 Did he even get any time to mourn before everything changed? 

 It took everything in me not to start ripping tape off of boxes and shift through their contents, trying to see what glimpses of my early life they had. I had no idea how long we’d be staying here — would we need to unpack? Would it even be worth it? 

 It was a strange impasse; I didn’t want to settle into the house, because that came with the reality that my old life was old, but staying in a house that was partially packed away felt too unwelcoming. And there wasn’t a comfortable middle ground, unless I went and camped out in the woods across the street and pretended this was some weekend getaway. 

 I walked around the pile of boxes in the kitchen, dishes and cooking scribbled in rough chicken scratch. In Dad’s chicken scratch. I had to admit, the place was nice; a decent amount of space across from the kitchen countertops for a dining table, a spacious living room across the way with its own built-in bookcase and an alcove above the fireplace for a television. Quaint, comfy living. 

 My eyes froze as I looked across the hall from the wall where I was leaned: there, in the wall, were little etchings, knicks from a knife's edge cutting into the corner and leaving behind a thin line. Each one had it’s own scrawl above it, and I moved closer to try and read what it said. 

 Delsin. Reggie. Delsin, Reggie, Delsin, Reggie, Delsin, Reggie repeating again and again from a point higher than I was tall, all the way down to just two feet above the ground. Reggie — that was Dad’s brother, wasn’t it? My namesake. Big brother, if height was anything to go by. Each name had a number in parentheses next to it, ranging from (6 months old) next to Dad’s first etch to the last, (17). Reggie’s stopped at (21).

 Seventeen. Wasn’t that how old he was when his parents passed away? That’s what Betty said. 

 He was my age when everything changed for him, too. No powers or anything, that came sometime later; but his world just flipped on his head at this age, too. He…his pep talks and such, was he talking from a place of understanding and not just being a supportive Dad? 

 There was a slamming sound from the front of the house, followed by the quiet echo of Dad calling our names. I glanced out of the window; Dad was coming out of the truck, two full sized beds strapped down in the back and a bunch of grocery bags under their slanted stance. 

 I turned to look down the hallway, waiting for Brent and calling out his name when he didn’t appear. There was a sniff, and then he began walking down the hall, face splotched red. He’d been crying, hard, and didn’t look at all in the mood to talk about it. 

Dad and Betty came back not only with beds and nonperishables, but a lot of other changes; electricity was set to be on by morning, and they managed to settle something with our schools for our exams to be proctored at Dad’s Alma Mater that following Monday. 

Unfortunately, it also came with the reveal that our last semester would be online. 

 “I can’t have you two out of my sight yet,” Dad said. “It sucks and I know you hate it, probably feels overbearing, but I want to make sure you two stay safe.” 

 Betty had scored us more furniture, to be moved variously throughout the holiday break. “I’ll come help unpack your old things, Delsin, and we’ll get these kids their own rooms downstairs,” she assured us. “Teens need their privacy.” 

 But like every positive, there was a downside to her help: everyone now knew Delsin Rowe had returned.

 The first bit of harassment came in the form of old friends, Dad’s high school buddies and old band mates fitting themselves as well as they could around the beds propped up in the living room and checking on their pal. Then came the older citizens, seniors with tales of how Dad saved them all after the DUP escape by draining the concrete from their very bones — and gifts of their own. Homemade meals in tin foil trays, still warm, toiletries I hadn’t even considered. Some old lady in a walker handed me a bulk box of menstrual pads and I contemplated evaporating then and there, with how much they all snickered. 

 But luckily, Dad caught on to the embarrassment, shooing people off on premises of been a long day and need to study for make up exams, closing the door and locking it for good measure. “I’ll make you two a copy of the key soon,” Dad said, turning to look at us. “I’m gonna set us up in the living room too — just for tonight. I don’t want you to freeze or anything,”

 He helped get us situated in the living room, ripping the plastic cover off of the couch and fitting sheets to the beds as Brent and I ate dinner at the kitchen counter. Lukewarm chicken casserole. Delicious. The house was being rapidly plunged into a dim darkness as the sun set, the only light coming from the fireplace. “Pilgrim living,” Brent muttered in between bites. I snorted. 

 “Well, at least you’ll be better off than the pilgrims,” Dad said, leaning back on his knees. “Are your phones charged?” 

 Oh, this was gonna be fun to explain. “I, uh,” Brent stuttered, unable to even look at Dad. “I may have…broken it?” 

 “Broken?” Dad asked. “Did it happen in that alley?” 

 “No,” Brent laid his plastic fork on the counter. “I…I sort of…lodged it into a wall?” 

 Dad blinked, not speaking for a moment and only able to repeat, “You lodged it into a wall?” when he finally could. 

 “The wall in that room in the Longhouse,” 

 “Is that what that was?” Dad asked, barking out some sort of laugh of disbelief. “Betty said you said you were going to help patch it up but I just thought you were being nice.” 

 “I didn’t mean to,” Brent rushed to assure Dad, “It just — I was angry at Tommy, and I meant to sort of just throw it away from me but it—“ 

 “Tommy?” Dad interrupted, “What does Tommy have to do with this?”

Brent sighed, leaning against the counter and beginning to explain to Dad all Tommy said, both in that school wide and their personal chat, something I hadn’t even known about till now. Slurs, accusations. He blamed me for getting caught and said Dad set everything up to kill some other regular people again, “just like how he disabled my grandpa." Refused to believe we didn’t know this whole time. How he ganged every bigot in the school against us, throwing in what I told him from my phone call without ratting me out. I’d have to thank him for that later. 

 Dad just shook his head, not saying anything once Brent trailed off, fists clenched at his side and seething too much to form words. “Brent, I…” Dad finally started, trailing off, sighing when the words couldn’t come. 

 “Tommy was always sort of…’middle ground’,” Brent said, putting sarcasm in his air quotes, “But he — we’ve known each other since he moved to Chapman! You’d think he’d understand…he’d know that I wouldn’t — that you wouldn’t…” 

 Brent just ended his jumbled tangent with a growl, moving to face the casserole and snatching his fork, stabbing rather violently at the food. The prongs immediately snapped under the weight of his anger, shatterings of black plastic peppering the food. “God damnit,” Brent hissed. 

I silently passed him a solo cup, motioning towards the cooler one of Dad’s old friends brought for temporary use that was full of snow and 2 liters of soda, beginning to section off the bit of food that had the prongs littered throughout. I hadn’t noticed Dad moved from the living room until he was beside me, holding a trash bag open for me to scoop up the ruined bits and dump them away. “Humans, we’re…well, we’re assholes.” He snorted. “Always have been. Since the dawn of time, literally all we’ve done is pick some group of people to bully around. Jews, Africans, Indigenous — now it’s Conduits. There’s always gonna be someone who finds a simple fault with you, no matter what you do.” 

Pulling out an empty drawer and hanging the bag by its tie on it, he turned, meeting my eyes and then shifting to glance at Brent’s back. “I don’t want you to ever give a shit about what those type of people say. They’re always on the wrong side of history, and they always will be.” 

I knew that already. History was full of people trying to make others the enemy. Blaming them, targeting them. And hell, I thought Brent knew that too. There were more times than I could count where he went up to bat for Conduits, starting arguments mid-class, getting into fights. Our school district was inclusive, and there were multiple times Brent fought on the side of a Conduit kid so they didn’t have to use their powers and end up on national news for putting a bully in their place. For defending themselves. He always said it wasn’t fair how, no matter what, they’d be seen as the bad guy.

Guess that’s what he was feeling now — being the villain. Even when all he did was protect himself, try to protect me. The fact that Winter Formal starts in thirty two minutes probably wasn’t helping his attitude. 

“Enough of that.” Dad shook his head, grabbing a fork and beginning to dig into the food himself. “No phone for you, that’s alright. I was going to suggest some kind of app but it’s okay, we can do something else, I’m sure there’s games we can play with two phones.” 

I cringed. “So uh,” I said, laying down my fork and avoiding Dad’s gaze. “I may have…tossed our phones into the Sound…”  

Brent spun to look at me, echoing Dad as they both yelled, “You what?”

[marie1-kersaint]

HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A LIVE PEACOCK 🦚?

https://youtu.be/TsPh_8Dxl3E?si=2JoeUHdRZJpYKjmu

WE'RE TRYING TO MURDER THEM IN ST LUCIE COUNTY   

"THE HUBB with HITLERrian SS POISON GAS 💀 👃 🛁  🚽 " 

They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.”

COUNTING CROWS 2006?

FORT PIERCE, ST LUCIE COUNTY Floriduh 🙄is in the process of opening an ART SCHOOL 🖼️ 🏫 [{WE NEED ANYTHING WE CAN GET]}

on my way to church ⛪️ Sunday 11/27  (hoping to kneel listening 👂🤩choir rehearsal -reminding me of my SUNDAYS WORSHIP with FAMILYRADIO.ORG - and saving my seat close to pulpit so i can see the 📺)

🆎 7🕖 a well built young back man tied his hoodie around his waist, flipped open his iPad and 🛫 studying 📚 his lines.   i thought rehearsing because he went back a few paces to come forward as though coming into a room and starting to talk (not much physical movements)

It clicked after church ⛪️ when the owner of ESSIE CLEANINGS WHO'S BEEN FEEDING THE PEACOCKS 🦚 FOR DECADES met me 🎶 💔🎤 💔🎵 💔 https://youtu.be/TsPh_8Dxl3E?si=_O9_pQisMlQjvQgm 💔💔💔💔💔💔told me that THE NEW ART SCHOOL wants her THE NEW ART SCOOL OWNER WANTS TO MOVE THE PEACOCK 🦚 AWAY i understood where she pointed was AVENUE A   where no one goes unless ☝️ has to. 

Rare occasion when you will not see a family or just a 🚘 admiring THE PEACOCKS 🦚 

HAVE YOU SEEN A LIVE PEACOCK 🦚 YET⁉️

well, THANKS 2 FORT PIERCE i have been privileged to gaze on these heavenly birds 🦚

🦚🦚🦚🦚🦚🦚🦚https://www.facebook.com/share/97PjojaBbTED1Tnz/?mibextid=WC7FNe

Sunday morning i turned around the corner BLOCK FENCE i took a chance 🆘🆘🆘🆘heard a peacock's🦚 💔cries shrill, heart breaking like someone is using a bat to practice playing baseball using its head 🐔 as ⚾️ in a good day‼️

No word to describe it that cry 😢 today 

i kept walking‼️

 AWAY FROM THE CRY‼️

3 commercial size trash 🚮 🗑️ 🚮 cans spilled is THE PEACOCKS' 🦚SUSTENANCE across the street 👀 🆎 half a dozen PEACOCKS 🦚 near a semi 🚛, broken cars houses in various forms of disrepair 

😂🤣NO ONE WILL SEE YOU IF YOU KICK 🦵 A PEACOCK 🦚 OUT OF YOUR WAY 

😃😄😁😆🥹😅😂🤣NO ONE ☝️ WILL SEE YOU IF YOU RUN OVER A PEACOCK 🦚🦚🦚

NO ONE CARES IF NAKED BOYS TRY TO SIT ON THEM AND PULL THE PEACOCK's 🦚🦚PLUMES

" just funnin"

or by “accident” steps  on one and oops “PEACOCK FEATHERS  😎”  if they can do that right across from United Methodist church  ⛪️and  Anytime Fitness 🤷‍♀️ 🤷‍♂️ 🤷‍♂️ 

certainly no one will turn into AVENUE A@ (i guess 8th street⁉️ -the street sign is faded-) to admire or feed THOSE ENDANGERED UNPROTECTED 🦚 

i am SURE THE BEAUTIFUL FORT PIERCE PEACOCKS 🦚 CAN LIVE FROM THE PAMPERS CONTENTS cross

AVENUE A @ EIGHTH STREET 

yay my little blue kiddie pool has not been thrown away yet‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

FUNNY the cock with ugly feathers on his feet and 2 other chickens were 🦵 kicked out  off course BUT STUBBORNLY  😟 crawled back like in John Steinbeck’s THE GRAPE OF WRATH

well, this city needs any 💰 improvement we can get and THE BIBLE DOES SAY https://kjbo.org/Matthew-20-15/ (https://kjbo.org/Matthew-20-15/)

(i always think of this verse when people are cutting trees 🌳  🌲down and 🇺🇸 will not make them replace it with 4 saplings https://kjbo.org/Matthew-20-15/ (https://kjbo.org/Matthew-20-15/) )

After  lockdown and VACCINATIONS (the gymn  US1 @ Midway Rd was full)

i tried to propose 🌎 💪 to get the old school 🏫 building on 10th @ Orange 🍊 Avenue with ample parking 🅿️ spaces BUT was 😟 was unable to get the realtor centric  ℹ️ needed to complete the form as the gymnasiums are individually owned (no coordination if one has a CUSTOMER SERVICE PROBLEM ONE IS SENT BACK TO THE SOURCE OF THE PROBLEM🤣😂🤪)

("kersaint lives in denial") i tried to fill out that form in 2018 in DIXIE COUNTY population 16,000

THE CROSS CITY train DEPOT an old state building (that could be had for a song OR a Sous) in the middle of the highway 🛣️ US-19

Cross City, FL  32628 (county 💺)

i envisioned commercial truck drivers and fishing and other people driving from the Gulf using their Black Card to refresh themselves before their destination 

“🙄LIVING IN DENIAL” so not to think OF ART SCHOOL OWNERS  philanthropists MISTREATING 🦵 🦚🙄PEACOCKS 

PEOPLE

KILLING TREES 🌳🌲and not replacing them 

Sent from my iPhone

🎶💃🕺🤸‍♂️🤸‍♀️🤸🏿Sing ✝️🥰u



#✝️💚u

#corvettemuseum 🎄✨ #CorvetteChristmas #CorvetteHoliday #MuseumMagic #HolidaySeason

corvettemuseum.org/visit/

✝️💘u #Corvette @Microsoft @Twitter @facebook #facebookmarketplaceproblems #nolanesforever #hollywoodpap #tiktok #NBA #fbi #gab #season #nytimes #nytimesbestseller #mariekdemosthenes #presidentbiden #presidentobama #instagram #twitter #Linkedin

#SCIENCETIMES

#✝️💘u +u💝✝️=0🔥 🔥♾️

#youtube #TUMBLR #aviation #boeing #delivery #avgeek

#mariekdemosthenes #BETHEREFORSERVICEMEMBERSANDVETERANS #plant4seedlingsifyoumurder1tree #fourseedingsfor1 #beautydemanDstrees

#gab

#KINGJAMESBIBLEONLINE.ORG

KINGJAMESBIBLEONLINE.ORG

#FAMILYRADIO.ORG 8005431495

#PILGRIMRADIO.COM

STRENGTH4THE JOURNEY

#7758835647

#AdventureAvenue

#FAITHLAKECITY.COM

#3862001897

#MarieELIArintussDEMOSTHENES

#AAAAARTbyKERSAINT

@AAAAARTbyKERSAINT

#MKDJinc @MKDJinc

#MICHAELJACKSON

@MICHAELjJACKSON

#MICHAELjJACKSON

#MICHAELkersaintDEMOSTHENESjackson

@MichaelKERSAINTdemosthenesJACKSON

#beauty #beautiful #✝️💜u

[renatedagmarmilada]

Pressing LUNGS by remote--OLAF of Munich Human Research.

re covert destruction program by remote over UK till 20 80--Someone is pressing my lungs /by remote'/ from lab st barths human Research- this compresses the grey matter in your lungs tighter and makes breathing even more difficult besides being horrendously painful, called sport by lab members, ofcourse as a refugee from one years old, I had TB etc Sadism rather than any form of skill or knowledge is the key to being a mental assistant. They love inflicting extra pain-- said former bossess Anna who got her job with sex, she was a sex worker of Peckham alias Jean Clark, prison sentence, thrown out of Hospital for Tropical Medicines : Fekete's life has been so hard she won't even notice -- OH But I DO..and the pain is horrendous-/lab st barths human Research- quote just now, I pushed two of the break-ins and thefts at your house. It's getting very difficult as the old teacher has very little left now worth the time and bother of robbing, by John Turnbull's friend he calls himself, dare not give his name though watched at the lab?? JT drags anyone and everyone into t he lab. so they are guilty and cannot complain when the time comes, that was Anna's method too \quote ''Jean Carsted was my whore so I am permitted..''/ All and everything they do is pain-inflicting at that lab. - trying to say we are voluntary patients- never a patient and not voluntary -

Human Research runs only on lies, which they call ISSUES.. never been to the place-re covert destruction program by remote over UK till 2080 - now running extinction program from it.

The lab St barths human Research killed an art woman lecturer at the Psalter Lane Art College Sheffield with this technique. They pressed her lungs so hard they collapsed and she died. Also my own lecturer, they put this mind thing into victim's thoughts and then they kill themselves- a friend on A levels was also used for this technique, hung himself and others---used fairly regularly. The Lecturer tidied his desk on the day of the results and put a gun to his brain and shot his brains out. I should have guessed it was coming as he let me see his art, black boxes, endless black boxes. As a sensitive artist, he was expressing his thoughts in his art. All UK is on this program paid for by Kissinger for the future of USA.

pss evidently someone called OLAF /??/ friend of Helga.. they are all shown the film made at BBC by Joanna of lab porn artist with my head supplanted on it /New York Hum Res advised St barths HumRes/ and then imagine they will find something not little tiny kiddy patients used horrendously- Joanna, porn model, 'quote You are getting greedy Joanna'.. has long been asphyxiated in 'THE ROOM' at the lab where all are sent once they are no longer of any use- now closed-- /?/ of Munich Human Research..''excellent I've got your looted work to copy. '' Someone saw you in the classroom at East Ham College, /they used sound threatening /none stop there and at Langdon School London, but the lab put on endless diarrhea for simulated cancers, which is another technique they us a lot, people think they have it when they haven't, it is simulated from the lab. st barths human Research.......Allan Lieberman Cross of Finchley, 86 illeg children and former Insurance Salesman, killed my dad with that one and they also had his very strong heart taken out- /put actual heartbeat on for me to hear when I visited him/ let him have an artificial one, as he was in a german prison.. so they could watch him die from it...unfortunately, my parents come from the East and TRUST doctors and the English implicitly ...... to ensure I didn't get the PGCE..Russian and German from Institute of Education..

Jorg Feldman from Basel Switzerland is coming back./ugh from Basel?? madman just so he can have it off with tots/ Lab created a fatal accident on one of the Swiss mountain..

LAURA of Hereward St Sheffield fortyish, not a known thief, but stole some dozen things from my home..some get away with it repeatedly, broke into my home looting, twice...

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of Med: Season 4 and Seasons of PD: Season 6: Of Loss and Letters (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

As always, I do not own any quotes from Chicago Med 4x02.

Y/N's age: 17

Jay's age: 31

Will's age: 33

You sat in your English 11 class and wrote and wrote an essay for your test. Your hand was starting to cramp. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone's phone light up from the phone caddy.

Yes, that's right. Your high school now had a phone caddy where students had to put their phones every class. Each student was assigned a number and then that's where they put their phone during that hour. Some teachers didn't care and let you keep it on you, but some did.

Your phone lit up again. You so desperately wanted to look at your watch that was connected to your phone, but you knew that doing so would look like you were cheating, so you decided against it. And, you turned your attention back to your test.

It lit up again and this time your teacher had had enough and stood up to grab your phone.

"Sorry to interrupt your tests," she started, "but how many times do I have to tell you guys to put your phones away with the screen facing the whiteboard. That way it's not dis--" She sucked in a breath as a text came across your screen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one word: hospital. And, this caused her to read the text. "Y/N, please come with me."

You stood up, utterly confused, and then left the room.

"Firstly, let me say I didn't try to read your texts. I just saw it out of the corner of my eye and...it's important."

You believed this teacher. She was young, pretty fresh out of college, and one time when you came in for a review session, she made all of you guys brownies to snack on while you worked.

She handed you your phone. It was a text from Jay.

Dad's in the hospital.

Your breath caught in your throat. Was it something with his heart? Had he started drinking again?

"Can I--"

"You can go, Y/N. I'll call the office and have someone bring your books down there after class so you can pick them up there when you come to school later. Drive safe."

"Thank you."

You practically sprinted down the hallway and to your locker as another text came in from Jay.

If you don't answer in the next ten minutes, I'm calling school to get you out.

You finished shoving stuff into your backpack and then started on your way to the office. You went to sign out when one of the secretaries stopped you.

"I've got it, hun. You just take care of yourself." Your teacher must've called down.

"Thank you," you choked out and then left the building, dialing Jay's number as you walked.

"Jay!" you exclaimed when he picked up on the first ring. "What happened to Dad? I was taking a test and then my phone started blowing up. Is he okay?"

"Y/N, there was a fire at his apartment. He's in the ED at Med. Will will fill you in more when you get here." You could tell by the tone of his voice that it wasn't good.

"Jay, you can't just tell me that! There's gotta be more!"

"Y/N, you're about to drive. You'll be at Med in twenty minutes. I don't need you to get in a car accident. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"Please." You got in your car and then turned your phone on speaker and started your car. "Can you tell me stories on my way there?" you asked Jay. "I need something else to focus on."

"Focus on the road."

"I mean listen to. I need something else to listen to."

"What kind of stories?" he asked.

"Can you tell me how Mom and Dad met?"

"You know how they met: it was at a White Sox game. Dad saw Mom stand up to buy some popcorn and said he fell in love with her at first sight. He must not have been a pain in the ass then. And, his favorite pastime probably wasn't yelling at people like it is now. Probably smiled more, too."

"Technically, he doesn't yell at me," you said. "Except when he was drunk before you started taking care of me and he finished the twelve steps."

"Oh, right. I forgot. I'm his favorite person to yell at," Jay said sarcastically. "He wasn't always an ass, though. He was actually excited to have a daughter at first. And then, his asshole buddies in construction changed his mind and made him think that women weren't his equals."

"Dicks," you muttered. "What did you and Will do when you found out that Mom was going to have me? Were you mad you weren't going to be the youngest anymore?"

"Nah, I was happy I'd have someone to pick on like Will picked on me."

"Hey!"

"Obviously I didn't follow through with that line of reasoning," he laughed. "Mom was telling us how we'd have to play tea parties with you and all that girly stuff. Me and Will obviously weren't too thrilled about that."

"Well, you're lucky I'm not a girly-girl then and didn't really play tea parties."

"That's because I taught you how to kick a soccer ball the minute you could walk. Shocked you didn't play that in middle school and now in high school," he added.

"I'm not competitive enough for that."

"Oh, believe me, we know. That's why you didn't play goalie: because one game you were goalie, you just sat down in the goal and started playing with the grass."

"Goalie was boring. And, you don't get a break; you don't get to sub-in. My favorite part of kiddie soccer was the snacks and juice boxes at the end."

"Don't forget those few times you scored goals during the games," Jay pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess that part was kinda fun."

"See? You had fun."

"Not really. But, I'm pulling into Med now. I'll gonna park and then I'll be in the ED."

"Okay, make sure you remember where you parked."

"Don't worry, I will."

You parked and then made your way into the ED waiting room.

"Miss, I'm going to need you to take a seat and wait to be seen," a nurse you didn't recognize said.

"Oh, no," you started. "I'm not hurt. It's my dad. He was in the fire and my brother called." You looked down at your feet, finally realizing the gravity of the situation. "My brother called and said he's in the ED. Um, one of my brothers is Dr. Will Halstead."

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey. Go right on in." She gave you a sympathetic look.

"Thank you."

You hustled into the ED and looked for Maggie or one of your brothers. You spotted Maggie first.

"Maggie where's--"

"Your dad's in Treatment One." She pointed you in the direction of the room and you made your way over there.

You entered the room at the same time as Dr. Rhodes. "You guys wanna fill her in?"

"What's going on?" you asked, worry evident in your voice.

Your dad started coughing and spit some bile into a bin, causing you to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

"Dad tried to play hero," Jay started to explain, "He forgot he was in his 60s with a bum ticker."

"Yeah, well, this is your fault to begin with," Pat Halstead said.

"Me?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, you stuck me in that fire trap."

"Please, can you two just not fight for once?" you complained.

"Pop, stop talking," Will urged.

Dr. Rhodes started doing an EKG and then ordered some tests, finally shutting your dad up...and saving you from another argument between Jay and your dad. Then, after he was done, he got called out to consult for Dr. Choi.

"I don't need all this," your dad complained once Dr. Rhodes had left the room.

"Calm down," Jay told him rudely. "You're getting yourself all worked up."

"What do you know? You're no doctor."

"Dad," you said.

"You had no right to sell my house!"

"You wanna talk about this again?" Jay practically yelled. "It was a wreck. You couldn't take care of the place."

"You just wanted my money!"

"Hey!" Will yelled, but it didn't stop the two...nothing ever did.

"You don't have any money you thankless old prick!" Jay yelled and then started to walk out.

"Jay!" Will yelled as you started to follow him out, hoping to calm him down. "Y/N, stay here," Will told you.

"Why?"

"I know you're gonna try to calm him down, but he needs to cool off by himself right now."

You huffed. "Fine." You turned back to your dad. "I don't think he really meant it. He was mad. Both of you say things you don't mean when you're angry. You two are a lot alike that way. Like when you said he wasn't a son of yours."

"Yeah, you should apologize for that one," Will agreed.

"Not until he apologizes for what he just said to me. Only then will I--"

Alarms started sounding and lights starting flashing. Will hit a button on the wall and two nurses rushed in.

"Will, what's happening?" you screamed. "What's happening to Dad?"

Will lowered the bed and then put his fingers to your dad's neck. "No pulse. Bag him."

"Wait, he's your dad," a nurse, who you recognized as Monique, said. "Shouldn't another doctor run the code?"

"You got one handy?" Will asked as he started chest compressions.

"Will, what's happening?" Jay asked as he re-entered the room.

"Jay, I need you to take Y/N out of here. Now."

"No, I wanna stay. What's going on?"

"Jay, now," Will stated again.

Jay placed on hand on your back. "Y/N, c'mon."

The alarms were still sounding, the lights still flashing.

"No!" you yelled.

"Y/N, I need room in here," Will told you. "The best thing you can do for Dad is to leave this room."

"No! I wanna stay!" you yelled again.

Jay looked at Will and he nodded. Then, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground by Jay.

"Put me down! Put me down!" You started kicking and swinging your arms, but he didn't budge. "Let me go back in there!"

Once safely out of the room--and having drawn the attention of most people in the ED--did Jay finally put you down. You tried to run back towards the treatment room, but Jay scooped you back up.

"Nope. We're going outside," Jay told you.

"Fine. But, once we're out there, I'm not walking with you."

You crossed your arms in frustration. After that little stunt he pulled back there, there was nothing he could say that made you want to be around him.

"That's fine. Just keep your phone on you."

***

As you kept walking down the sidewalk to the right--Jay had went left as soon as you walked outside because you didn't want to be around him--you spotted none other than Kelly Severide sitting on a bench, looking like he was currently throwing himself a pity party.

"Hey," you said as you walked up to him.

"Y/N? what are you doing out here?" he asked as he looked up.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Well, have a seat. You look like you've been crying."

"So do you," you pointed out.

"Stella's in the ED," he admitted. "She had a nasty inhalation injury. They uh, they might not be able to save her lung...which means she wouldn't be able to be a firefighter anymore." He looked back down.

"I'm sorry, Kelly. But, Stella's a fighter."

"Yeah, I know. She left home when she was eighteen and she didn't have the best home life before that either."

"She told me."

"She told you?" he asked, looking back up at you.

"Yeah, when she helped me get ready for homecoming, she told me that she gets it. She gets what it's like not having a mom to help you get ready for dances."

"Dude, we have a problem," Will said through the phone to Jay.

"Which is...?" Jay asked.

"Nat got called in. We don't have anyone to help Y/N get ready for the dance."

"Shit," Jay cursed. "Yeah, that really is a problem. Let me make some calls."

Jay hung up the phone with Will and then scrolled through his contacts. He thought about asking Hailey, but he wasn't super close with her yet, so she was off the table.

Then it hit him: Stella.

But he didn't have her number.

But he had Kelly's.

"Please don't be on shift, please don't be on shift," he muttered as the line started ringing.

"Hey, Halstead," Kelly answered.

"Hey, man. Listen, I've got a huge favor to ask you. Well, actually, it's more you asking Stella for the favor."

"What do you want me to ask her? She's right here."

"Well, it's Y/N's homecoming dance tonight and Nat was gonna come over and help her get ready and she got called into work. I was wondering if maybe Stella could come over and help Y/N out."

"Okay, I'll ask her."

He heard mumbling which he guessed was Kelly talking to Stella. "I'm gonna put her on," Kelly said after a minute.

"Okay."

"Hey, Jay," Stella said into Kelly's phone.

"Hey, Stella. Kelly explain everything to you?" Jay asked.

"He did. I'll be over there in an hour. Unless you need me sooner, then I can make it half an hour."

"An hour works great. Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver, really."

***

Jay had left to run to the store and had told you that Stella would be there in an hour. So, when someone knocked on your apartment door twenty minutes later, you were utterly confused.

You got up from the couch and looked through the peephole in your apartment door, seeing none other than frick and frack...otherwise known as Adam and Kevin.

"What are you two doing here?" you asked as you opened the door. "If you're looking for Jay, he went out to run some errands."

"No, we're actually here to see you," Kevin said.

"Me?"

"Yeah," Adam confirmed. "Aren't you supposed to be in a dress or something?"

"I'll put it on after Stella dose my hair," you told them. "Sorry, c'mon in."

The two entered the apartment, but you were still confused as to why they were here, and why they were here for you and not your brother.

"I guess we can teach her like this," Adam said.

"Might be better, too," Kevin started. "That way she won't rip her dress when we're first teaching her."

"Uh, excuse me. Right here, guys. What are you planning on teaching me?" you asked, annoyed that they were talking about you like you weren't even there.

"We are here, little Y/N, to teach you how to fight," Adam answered.

"First of all, don't ever call me little Y/N again. Second of all, no you're not. What's the real reason you're here?"

"That's it," Adam laughed.

You raised an eyebrow, so Kevin decided that he needed to clarify. "It's just for self-defense. Just in case a horny teenage boy comes up to you and starts grinding on you at the dance, so you'll know what to do."

You were still skeptical about this, but they did have a good point. You had to give them that.

"Okay, so what do I do? And, did Jay put you two up to this?" you asked.

"He didn't," Adam answered. "We came of our own free will. First thing you need to know about throwing a punch is doing it with a closed fist." You closed your fist. "Perfect. Now, when you throw the punch, make sure your arm is locked out."

You did as he said and your punch was a little flimsy, but you worked on it.

***

"Is this the right color you think? I tried my best," Jay said as he met Stella in the elevator on their way up to his apartment. He pulled out a sparkly black bottle of nail polish. Stella had asked if your nails were done, and when he said no, she asked if he could pick up some nail polish while she packed up all her hair stuff and makeup to help you get ready. He had reluctantly agreed. By looking at the picture of your dress he had on his phone--it was a two-piece dress where the skirt portion was long enough that it covered your belly. The skirt was white with a floral design and the top was black with sequins--and used that to figure out what color nail polish to pick. Stella told him to keep it simple, so he just picked up a black bottle with some sparkles.

"Perfect!" Stella exclaimed as she looked at the color.

They got off the elevator and then walked to your and Jay's apartment. When Jay opened the door, he was met with one of the weirdest sights he had seen in his life: Adam was rolling around on the floor in what looked to be pain and you were jumping up and down and celebrating and then giving Kevin a high five.

"What happened here?" Jay asked.

"Oh, hey bro," Kevin said.

"Hey, Jay," Adam gritted out from his spot on the floor.

"We were teaching Y/N self-defense in case someone grinds on her at the dance," Kevin supplied. "And, we got to the kneeing part."

"So, she kneed him where the sun don't shine?" Jay laughed.

"Yeah," Kevin confirmed.

"Good job, Y/N. Adam, I'll get you ice and a beer. Kev, you want one?" Kevin nodded and Jay handed the small bag containing the nail polish to Stella.

"So, here's the deal," Stella started. "Natalie got called into work, so you're stuck with me helping you get ready. I've got some nail polish that your brother so generously went out and picked up for you, a straightener, a curling iron, tons of bobby pins and little hair ties, and tons of makeup. Just tell me what you want and we'll get the ball rolling."

You helped Adam up off the ground and then started towards your room, Stella following close behind.

***

"You know, I never had a mom to help me with this kind of stuff either," Stella confessed as she was twisting your hair.

"You didn't?" you asked. "Who helped you?"

"My mom was in and out of my life in high school, so usually one of the nice neighbor ladies helped me with my hair. The makeup was all me."

"So, you know how it is. I feel like it's harder for me than for Will and Jay because they both had Mom for over twenty years. I only had her for nine."

"Well, if you ever wanna talk about girl stuff, I'm your girl. Now, anyone special you wanna dance with? Or are meeting him at the dance?" Stella asked.

"Well, there is someone." You blushed.

"Girl," she dropped your hair. "You can't just leave me hanging like that. Who is it?"

"His name's Caleb. He's really good friends with my friend, Andrea." Stella knew who this was. She knew that you had saved her life during the shooting half a year ago. "He's really cute. Tall, Brown hair. Blue eyes. One of the star players on the football team," you told her wistfully.

"Ooh, you got it bad," Stella laughed.

"I got what bad?"

"Your crush on this Caleb kid. You are crushing on him so hard, Y/N. Can't say I blame you. The popular kid is always the way to go...as long as he's not a douche."

"He's actually not. He's actually really nice."

"Well, does Caleb have a date to the dance?" Stella asked.

You sighed. "He does. Her name's Sasha and she's a total bitch. Excuse my French."

"Well, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: sooner or later, the dude sees his girl's true colors."

"I, uh, I thought about asking him to dance. I remember Jay saying when I was like four and he was going to his senior prom, that if he wasn't dating Allie and a girl asked him to dance, that he'd dance with her because it takes guts to ask someone to dance. But, since Caleb's got a date, that probably won't happen."

"Hey, if he's dancing solo and a slow song comes on, you gotta ask him to dance. Shoot your shot, girl."

"You're right. I'm gonna ask him to dance. I will ask Caleb to dance."

"That's the spirit! Now, we gotta get you looking extra hot so he falls in love with you when he's staring into your eyes while you two are slow dancing the night away."

You laughed and Stella returned to your hair.

***

Later that night, a slow song came on and Sasha was nowhere to be seen with Caleb. But, he was on the dance floor, near the back wall, all by himself. So, you asked him to dance. He said yes, and after, he even gave you a hug. Best dance of your high school career so far.

After you texted Andrea to tell her that you danced with Caleb because you had no idea where she was, the next person you texted was Stella. You knew she'd be hella excited for you.

You crushed on Caleb for a few months after that. But, then he got a new girlfriend and ended up cheating on her with not one, but two different girls. Needless to say, your crush on him died the second you found out this information.

"She loves you, you know," you said to Kelly.

"She told you this?" he asked.

"She didn't have to. Every time Stella sees you, or even when she talks to you, her face lights up."

"She's good for me. That's for sure."

You paused. You knew Kelly didn't have the best relationship with his dad and neither did Jay, Will, or even you. You also knew his dad had died a few months ago, around October and it was currently February. "Did you ever get mad at yourself?" you asked.

"About what?"

"When your dad died. You knew he wasn't the best person, but you were still sad."

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I don't understand where you're going with this," Kelly apologized.

"I know my dad wasn't the best person, hell he was neglectful and unfit to be a parent, still is. So, why do me and my brothers still see him? Why do I still feel sad and scared that he might die?" you asked. You knew this was something you should be asking your school counselor--you had started seeing her a lot this past year because of the shooting--but Kelly was here now. And, maybe he'd understand because he didn't have a very good dad either.

"It's because you remember how he used to be," Kelly said. "You, Jay, and Will all remember when he was a better person. When Benny died, I didn't feel like I was grieving current Benny. I was more grieving for the Benny I knew when I was five years old when he was a good dad. And, I never gave up hope that he'd become a better father as I grew up. When he died, I knew it would never happen. You're grieving the dad you used to know and the hope you might lose of him becoming a better man."

You nodded because you really had no idea what to say. You thought Kelly was right; maybe that was the reason why you were sad and fearful about the possibility of your dad dying. You two sat in silence after that, finding comfort in each other's presence, each hoping for the best, but trying to prepare yourself for the worst.

***

You walked into the ED, to be met with Jay storming out and Will quickly following after him. You ran after them.

When they finally stopped, you made your presence known. "Okay, someone wanna tell me what the hell's going on?"

"Dad's brain dead and Will, Will doesn't want a second opinion and just wants to let Dad die," Jay spat.

"A- Are you sure he's brain dead? Maybe you read it wrong?" you asked. There had to have been some kind of mistake. Your dad couldn't be brain dead; he couldn't be a vegetable.

"Y/N, I know this is a lot of information to take in, but the EEG, the thing that reads brain waves, showed that Dad's brain dead. Dr. Abrams read it and he's our top neurosurgeon."

"I still want a second opinion," Jay restated.

"Abrams is our top neurosurgeon, Jay. The opinion doesn't get any better than that," Will told him.

Jay scoffed. "So all your degrees, all that money, all those years in school, this is the best you can do?"

"Jay, Dad almost died two years ago. He's been living on borrowed time."

"Abrams didn't say Dad had no chance!" Jay protested.

"One thousand to one is no chance."

"So you just want to give up?" Jay clenched his fists at his side.

"I've seen a lot of patients in his condition--"

"There goes that doctor voice."

"I'm sorry, but I am a doctor," Will retorted.

Jay scoffed. "Yeah, we got that message. And Dad knew you thought you were better than us. We always came in second. Hell, Y/N came in second because you were away at med school! Who was looking after her when Mom was dying? Me and Dad. Who took her in because Dad's a shitty parent? Me. You weren't there, and now you wanna decide what happens to Dad?" He stepped closer to Will.

Will took a step closer to Jay as well. "You know that's not true, Jay."

"Yes, it is!"

Will opened his mouth and started to say something, but you weren't listening, you were too busy stepping between your brothers because you sensed a fight about to break out.

"Enough!" you yelled. Both Will and Jay looked down at you, shocked at your outburst. "Dad's fucking dying in there and you're fighting about old shit! Don't you see that it doesn't matter? Do you really want to spend your last moments with Dad fighting? Because I sure as hell don't."

Then, you moved away from them and made your way to the bathroom before you started bawling. You really didn't want to do that in front of the other people milling around the hospital.

Jay sighed and put his hands behind his head as he watched you walk off towards the bathroom.

"I never thought I'd say this," Will started, "but she's right. We can't be fighting right now."

"Yeah, I guess we shouldn't be doing that," Jay said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

"Guess me and Dad really are alike. Stubborn and quick to yell things we don't mean."

"I'm pretty sure all of us got the stubborn gene, even Y/N."

Then, The COO of the hospital, who Will introduced as Ms. Garrett walked up to them and told them that they had the full support and all the resources that the hospital had available to help their dad. This didn't seem like her at all, so Will excused himself to go talk to Ms. Goodwin. And, Jay figured this was as good a time as any to see how you were doing, as he hadn't seen you leave the bathroom yet.

***

Jay popped his head into the bathroom and since he only saw one stall in use and saw your shoes in that one, he entered the bathroom and locked the door.

He heard a sniffle. "Short Stack? You okay?" He paused, mentally kicking himself. "Stupid question, of course, you're not okay. I know you're in here," Jay said gently.

"Go away," you said through your tears.

"Y/N, you know I can't do that."

"I just wanna be alone...and for you and Will to stop fighting."

"We made up. Me and Will are fine. Can you please come out?"

You swallowed and frantically wiped your tears away and the snot that ran from your nose. Then, you walked out of the stall and immediately over to Jay and hugged him. "I'm sorry," you mumbled into his brown jacket. "I'm sorry for yelling and swearing. I just wanted you guys- I just wanted you guys to stop."

"I know, I know. Neither of us is mad at you. You had every right to be pissed at us."

"It's just- It's just... nevermind. It's stupid."

"Y/N, it's not stupid. Just tell me. I promise I won't laugh."

"You promise?"

"I promise," he confirmed.

You sighed. "I didn't get as much time with Mom as you two did and now I'm not getting as much time with Dad. You guys had both of them--" You drew in a shaky breath. "You guys had both of them at your high school graduations. I won't have that. I won't have that, Jay."

And that's when you crumbled and you just sobbed into Jay's jacket. When you were nine, you never really comprehended the number of things your mom wouldn't be there for, like your first high school dance, your first date, your first kiss, your high school graduation, your college graduation(s), your wedding, your possibly having a kid and her possibly having grandkids. Granted, your dad wasn't the best dad or even the best man in general, but now you'd have neither parent at any of those things, at any of those milestones.

Jay just held you as you continued to sob about all the things your parents wouldn't be there for, holding you just as your mom would hold him whenever he cried when he was younger.

***

You and Jay sat next to each other by your dad's bedside, the sounds of the vent that was currently keeping him alive were the only sounds that could be heard. Will came in and motioned for Jay to meet him outside the room.

"Be right back." He placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Be right outside," Will promised.

Outside of the room, Will explained that the reason Gwen Garrett wanted to keep your dad alive was that his bypass was 29 days ago. And that she just wants to keep your dad alive for one more day just so the hospital didn't take a hit.

"You think Dad would want this?" Will asked. "To stay alive just to buff some numbers?"

"No, no he wouldn't. But, me and Y/N talked while you tried to figure out what that Garrett lady wanted. Uh, Y/N didn't get as much time as we did with Mom and now she's getting less time than we are with Dad."

"Because she's a lot younger than us. What are you trying to say, Jay?" Will asked.

"I think Y/N should decide. She should decide whether or not we keep Dad on the vent because she had the least amount of time with him. She should get to decide whether or not she gets more time with him."

"Jay, I'm not trying to argue with you, but do you really think that's a good idea? Her decision could cause her a lot of trauma down the road if she ends up thinking she made the wrong choice in the future," Will pointed out.

"We could tell her our opinions and what we want, but tell her that ultimately, she gets to make the final decision. That way, she doesn't feel like it's totally on her," Jay suggested.

"And if she doesn't want to make that big of a decision?"

"We decide between ourselves."

Will sighed. Jay did make a good point. "Fine. But if she feels like shit for months, I'm blaming you."

"Add you to the list of people blaming me for bad shit in their lives."

"Are you lumping me together with criminals you put away?"

"Basically."

Will and Jay re-entered the room. "Why does it feel like he's squeezing my hand?" you asked.

Will sighed. He didn't want to crush your hope of your dad coming back, even though he knew it wouldn't happen, but he also knew that he couldn't give you false hope; he knew he needed to explain this to you.

"Those are just reflexes," Will answered. "I'm sorry, Short Stack, but they don't mean anything."

"They don't? He doesn't know I'm here?" You sniffled.

"He doesn't know," Will confirmed.

You nodded and continued to hold your dad's hand.

"Y/N, we have something to tell you," Jay started. You tore your eyes away from your dad and up to your brothers. "Me and Will decided that you should decide whether we keep Dad on the vent because you got the least amount of time with him."

"You- you guys want me to decide whether Dad lives or dies?" you asked.

Will nodded. "If you don't want to, me and Jay can decide between ourselves, but you can still tell us what you'd prefer. If you want to decide, we can let you do that. Or, if you want our opinions before you decide, that's fine, too."

"What do you guys think? I don't want to decide all by myself," you practically whispered.

And so, they explained to you how Garrett just wanted to keep your dad alive for one more day just to buff some numbers and how they didn't think he'd want to be alive just to do that, just to save the hospital from liability.

You also knew that there were one thousand to one odds against your dad coming back and that those weren't odds at all. He'd need a miracle. And, if there was one thing you knew about your dad, it was that he didn't believe in miracles. He believed in hard work, not miracles.

It was for these reasons that you said what you said next: "Let him go."

***

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any dumber," Will started when you and Jay arrived at your dad's apartment a few days later to go through his stuff. Surprisingly, most of it had been spared during the fire. "You went after the person responsible for the fire, didn't tell anyone, and ended up getting shot."

"You got shot?" you yelled as you walked in.

"Nice going, man. She didn't know," Jay said, annoyed. He turned to you. "It hit the vest. I'm totally fine. I just have some bruising on my chest. Nothing to worry about."

"And you two tell me to be careful," you mumbled. "I should be telling you that."

"It's no use, Y/N," Will said. "I tell him all the time. He just never listens."

"You know you're not a cat, right Jay? You don't have nine lives."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Where are we starting?"

***

Jay looked down at the pictures he was going through. He always thought that his dad didn't make it to his police academy graduation. But, the photo in front of him proved him wrong: there, in his hand, was a picture that his dad took of him on stage, getting his badge pinned to his chest when he had graduated from the police academy with the date written on the back.

He put a hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs and keep you and Will from hearing them. But, he didn't know you were on your way to find him.

"Jay, Will's wondering if you want us to order pizza? You good with--" You stopped talking when you saw Jay sitting on the floor, staring at a photo with silent tears streaming down his face. "What's wrong?" You knelt down next to him.

Jay frantically wiped his tears away using the hand that wasn't holding the photo. "Sorry, yeah, tell Will he can order pizza."

"Jay," you said sternly. "What's wrong? And, don't you dare say nothing. Because you wouldn't let me say nothing, you'd bug me until I told you. So, if you don't tell me, I'm going to keep bugging you about it, just like you'd do to me."

Jay chuckled. "I really screwed myself over by using that parenting tactic, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did. Now, what's wrong?"

Jay sighed. The Halstead stubbornness was starting to show more and more now that you had been living with him. And, because of this, Jay knew that you wouldn't let up.

"I always thought Dad never went to my graduation from the academy." He set the picture on the floor between you guys. "But he did."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "You didn't know that?"

"Why would I? Did you know?" he asked, turning to look at you.

"Yeah. He had to leave early because he had to make sure he was home when I got home from school. That's why he couldn't congratulate you after. He never told you?"

"No, he didn't."

"You know the first thing he said to me when I walked inside?" Jay shook his head. "He said: your brother's a Chicago police officer. I'm proud of him. And your mother would be, too."

"He- he said that?" Jay asked, getting choked up once more.

"He did. He might not have said it, but he was so proud of you, Jay. So proud."

***

Will opened a cabinet to grab some paper plates for you three to eat your pizza off of. As he was grabbing them, his hand brushed up against something leaning up against the back wall of the inside of the cabinet. It wasn't one something, but multiple somethings. He furrowed his eyebrows and took out the entire stack of paper plates, causing the multiple somethings to fall to where the paper plates had previously been. Then, he took the mystery things out of the cabinet.

He gasped when he read the first one.

In his hand, he held six letters, two addressed to each of you, one from your mom and one from your dad.

"Will, what's taking so long?" Jay asked as he flipped open the pizza box. "Food's getting cold."

"I think the pizza's gonna have to wait, guys." Instead of grabbing the plates and bringing them to the table, he brought the letters instead.

"Those don't look like plates to me," Jay pointed out.

"Because they're not." He set the pile of letters on the table. "They're letters. Addressed to each of us."

"But, that's Mom's handwriting," Jay said, flabbergasted.

"What do they say?" you asked.

"Only one way to find out," Will said and reached for the two addressed to him.

You and Jay did the same.

You swore you could hear a pin drop as each of you slowly ripped opened the yellowing envelopes. The seals were easy to open because, since they had been sealed for so long, some of the stickiness was gone.

Will first started with the one from his dad.

Dear William,

I know I said a real man goes right to work. And, I know I was mad at you for doing what you wanted to do and becoming a doctor. But, I guess I just have to think of med school as on the job training...that you pay a ton of money for. You will never hear me say this out loud to you because you know as well as I do that I am as stubborn as they come and I hate admitting I was wrong. But, you did good, kid. Both you and Jay did.

I'll keep this short because, if you're reading this, that means I'm gone and I'm assuming you, Jay, and Y/N are busy with the arrangements. But, just know that even though I don't say it a lot, I love you and I'm proud of you, son.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

Will wiped below his eyes. His dad did say he was proud of him when he was out of surgery two years ago. And, Connor had told him everything his dad had said about him before he went under the anesthesia. But, it was nice to have that in writing because it would be there forever.

It was like all three of you had the same idea to open the letter from your dad first. Your logic was that you figured your mom's would make you cry more, so you figured you'd open that last.

Jay fought to keep his eyes dry as he read the letter from his dad. He regretted the last words he had said to him, now more than ever.

Dear Jayson,

I know you think I hated you for going into the military straight out of high school. But, I didn't. I was just scared, scared I was going to lose you. One thing you don't know is that I tell everyone I work with that you're a war veteran. I love bragging about you and telling people about your accomplishments. They always say I should be so proud of you. And, I'm sorry I never tell you that, but I am proud of you, really proud of you. You fought for our country and saved countless lives over there. Just keep saving the innocent, Jay. That's what you seem to do best...and fight against the people who tell you that you can't do it, just like how you fought against me when I told you not to join the military.

I'll keep this short because if you're reading this, that means I'm gone. But, always remember that I am so proud of you and that I love you so much.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

His dad was proud of him. And now he had a reason as to why his dad didn't want him to join the military: he was scared. And, Jay told himself that if he had his own kids, he'd probably do the same thing because he had seen the horrors of battle and he wouldn't want any of his kids to go through that.

Finally, you read yours. And, as you read it, you were crying more than your brothers. You really didn't care, though.

To my daughter,

As I am writing this, you are nine years old and want to be a doctor. I don't know how that will pan out or if you'll change your mind on what you want to do. But, I am here to tell you, don't let anyone or anything stand in your way of what you want to be. Don't let Will stand in your way and don't stand in his shadow if you become a doctor. Strive to be better than him. Compete with each other if you end up going into the medical field; a little friendly competition never hurt anyone. Be smart and keep your brothers in line because Lord knows they're both as stubborn and as reckless as they come.

Love, your father,

Pat Halstead.

So, Jay was right: Dad wasn't always a sexist pig. And, Kelly was right as well: you missed your old Dad, the one who believed you could do anything, not the one who you knew when you were 13 to now, who was drunk, unfit to parent, and sexist as hell.

Then, Will opened the letter from his Mom.

To my first baby, Will,

First of all, let me say that I love you so much, more than you can ever imagine. I know you'll be a great doctor. Just, be smart, and try to be a little less stubborn because I'm assuming you're going to have to work with other doctors. Find it in you to compromise. I don't know what to say in this because me and your dad agreed that you and Jay and Y/N will get these letters when he's passed as well, so I don't know how far into the future you'll be seeing this. So, I figured I'd leave you with some life tips.

Mom's life tips to Will:

1. Never, ever lay your hands on or disrespect a woman. If you do, I will come down from heaven and smite you myself. This goes for Jay, too.

2. Make sure you help your girlfriend or wife with the household chores, like cleaning and cooking. You never leave all it to her. Again, same goes for Jay.

3. I'm sorry to say this, but never grow out a long beard. You have red hair and if you grow out a beard, you'll look like an overgrown leprechaun. Sorry, sweetheart.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. In this envelope you will find $500. This is to help you with med school loans, malpractice insurance, or if you're reading this way into the future, to help you with bills, and your own little family.

Will let out a small chuckle as he read the last life tip. And, thankfully, he had never decided to grow out his beard. And now he never would.

Jay looked down at his mom's loopy cursive handwriting and began to read.

To Jay, my second baby,

First of all, I love you more than you can ever imagine. And I am so, so proud of you for choosing to serve your country. I don't know whether you'll decide to stay in or leave the rangers, but I'm sure you'll be amazing at whatever it is you choose to pursue. And Jay, please keep in mind that you only have one life. Don't be crazy and reckless out there. I don't think you will be, but I'm just reminding you because I'm your mom and that's what moms do, they nag you and they worry about you no matter what. And, if you're reading this, that means your dad has passed away as well. Don't take this the wrong way, but please go see a therapist. You've fought in a war and seen terrible things overseas (I know because you once had a nightmare at home. I just didn't tell you that I knew this) and you've lost both of your parents. You should talk to a professional, sweetheart. But, always remember that I will be with you when your nightmares get rough. And, if Y/N wants to follow in your footsteps and go into the military, talk to her about it, but don't fight her on it like Dad did to you. Finally, I will leave you with some life tips.

Mom's life tips for Jay:

1. Never, ever lay your hands on or disrespect a woman. If you do, I will come down from heaven and smite you myself. I already wrote this in Will's letter as well.

2. Make sure you help your girlfriend or wife with the household chores, like cleaning and cooking. You never leave all it to her. Again, this is in Will's letter, too.

3.  I know you want to save everyone, Jay. And, you have a big heart, but you also take things personally. Just know that you can't save everyone and that is okay. Be kind to yourself and think of all the people you did save as opposed to those who you couldn't. It's okay to grieve for them, but don't let your grief last forever.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. Also in this envelope is $500. Use it towards therapy. But, if you already made the leap to go to therapy, one I am proud of you, and two, use it for something else. Donate it to veterans in need maybe. Or, use it to help pay off loans if you decided to go to college if you ended up leaving the military. Or, if you're reading this way in the future, use this money to help with bills and your own little family.

Maybe Jay would start therapy again now. He had gone a while ago, but after his meds stabilized his nightmares again, he stopped going. Maybe he'll go again because as he always said, his mom was a smart lady.

You were ugly crying as you opened the envelope and read the first few words that your mom had written.

To my baby girl,

Y/N, I love you so much and you will always be my baby girl no matter how old you get. I know I only got nine years with you, but know that I will always be with you in your heart no matter where you are. I was so excited when I found out I was having a girl and I'm so sorry we didn't get as much time on earth together as we should have. Continue doing what you love. Don't let your brothers take Beary from you. And, don't take no for answer when someone tells you that you can't do something just because you're a girl. Us girls are strong. As for the future, sweetheart, you have the kindest little personality right now. Never lose that. But, at the same time, don't let anyone take advantage of that. Stand up for yourself and stand up for others in need. I am going to leave you with more life tips than I left your brothers because they're older and should know a few more things than you at the moment...and they aren't girls.

Mom's life tips for Y/N:

1. And, don't laugh at this, but it works. When shaving down there, apply deodorant down there after. It helps to keep razor bumps and itchiness at a minimum.

2. Don't go for the first man that says I love you. You need to make mistakes before you fall truly and madly in love.

3. Girls can be cruel in middle school and high school. It's okay if you only have one or two true friends because having a few super close friends is better than having lots of distant ones.

4. Don't depend on any man for anything. Before moving in with your boyfriend and/or getting married, make sure you are financially stable all by yourself. That way, you will be able to leave him if things go south.

5. When you do get married, always keep money hidden away or have a secret bank account that your husband doesn't know about. That way, if things get really bad really fast, you can get out of there as fast as possible.

6. Finally, and I'm assuming Dad, Will, or Jay has already told you these things, but if they haven't, here they are. When drinking, watch the bartender make your drink. Don't take drinks from anyone. And don't leave your drink unattended.

I love you, sweetheart.

Love,

Mom (Amelia Halstead).

PS. Also in this envelope is a $20 gift card to Build-A-Bear. If you are too old to use it, save it for your kids. Or, if you have kids, give it to your kids. There is also $480. This can be used to pay for dresses for school dances, for college, and if you're reading this way in the future, to start a stash of money that your husband doesn't know about, or to help with bills and your own little family.

All three of you were in tears. But, you always knew that both of your parents would be with you and that they were so, so proud of each of you and that they loved each of you more than the world itself.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Leave a comment if I made you cry! I got a request of Kevin and Adam teaching Y/N how to punch, so I incorporated it into this imagine. To the anon who requested that, I hope you liked it! Anyway, please reblog/like and comment to tell me what you think! As always if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you! Finally, liked the imagine? Buy me a coffee here. 

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88​

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

If Star Wars Characters went to Disneyland| 501st style

Part one? Idk might make a part 2

-FIVES IS GOD DAMN EXITED THE WHOLE PLANE RIDE

-Rexs had twenty coffees and they barely left the airport

-Ashoka's asleep on everyones carry ons

-Dogma aint happy even being in the air port

-Tup records all the crackhead moments

-"Im runnin on four seconds of sleep man" "oh seriously" "yeah...Wanna oreo?" "....yeah sure."

-Anakin went before with Pademe, so he's wearing his disney ears already.

-Echo's reading outlander as they wait

-"When Im done with flight school I'll be flying everyone instead." "Redeye I dont trust you to make a sandwhich. None the less with a plane"

-Kix's wears his Red Cross Tee on the flight because its comfortable

-Jesse's also taken a nap with Ashoka on everyones luggage

-when they've finally got on the plane Rex's had four more coffees

-Anakin took charge so Rex could sleep and Rex happily did.

-the flight was the calm before the storm

-Dont even ask how they all got from the air port to the hotel-

-they stayed at the hotel across from the park and Fives has never been so excited

-Ashoka wants to keep sleeping and does so in the lobby as Anakin checked them all in.

-"Oooo Rex and Tano are in the same room" "Good I cant deal with you mfs for another mintue" "I-"

-Rex and Ashoka shared a room which ment peace and quiet for them.

-It was odd for them only two to a room, but luckily they all some how connected so chaos

-After everyones settled in, they basically all crashed aftwerwords

-Echo and Fives ended up sleeping on the same bed even though there was two of them.

-When moring Came Ashoka and Rex were the first ones up, they were gonna go eat downtown but knew they should wake everyone up.

-"Get up" "five more hours..." "sure- wait-"

-its a struggle but everyone gets up, Anakin out of everyone was the hardest to get up.

-they all go and eat at the buffet they have at the hotel, surprisingly everyone actually wakes up.

-Kix is the only one with a healthy breakfast of fruits and yogurt

-Dogma got out of his sour mood now that he has Cheerios

-So when they finally made there way over to the park

-Echo and Fives got matching ears, the day of the dead themed ones

-Rex said he wasnt getting Ears, but they convinced him to get ears, so the boys picked out the sparklest ears and Rex cant believe it, but he still ends up wearing them

-Kix got nemo themed ears

-Spend atleast an hour taking pictures just on main street, one consisting of Anakin laying across the group of clones and ashoka who held him in the air

-they dropped him by accident

-They take up the whole back of the disney railroad, you know the one that goes just around the park

-like five year olds there first ride is Dumbo and Peter Pan

-There's alot of laughing on the kiddy rides

-Splash Mountain- dont even start them on that- because they had to go in quiet a few logs, when the first one went over with Anakin, Ashoka, Rex, Tup, Dogma, and Echo everyone heard they screaming and now the clones are shakin in there boots

-churros for life

-When Rex and Anakin went on a ride together and then vanished the whole team was singing "there she goes"

-"BRO LOOK ITS DOGMA" "that's the abominable snowman Fives" "oh I know"

- expect a race between everyone on the autotopia ride, they place bets on each racer,

-Redeye loves Sorin over California, or the world. Idk things have changed, its also the reason why he has piolt themed disney ears and aviators.

-god imagine them in galaxies edge- I-

Fives: You were the satly one! I loved you!

Dogma: what?

Or

Rex: its over my friend! I have the high ground!

Ashoka: you underestimate my power!

Rex: Don't try it!

Ashoka: -eats the churro they were suppose to share-

Rex: -offended-

-Redeye crashin the millennium Flacon- and there goes his hopes and dreams

-Dogma hates the small world, so they got stuck on it

-Jungle cruise adventures

-the bugs on the indian jones ride spray;

Fives: BRO WTF

Echo: Aw hell naw

Tup: I dont run but I might just sprint out this ride

Rex: guys its water

Kix: well techinally its pressurized air

Ashoka: bugs?! Where! It'll be added to my collection

Anakin: I dont know them

-Mary Poppins asked them to dance? Kix is all over that with Hardcase

-pirates of the Caribbean ride, they love it, its so relaxing

-Dogma: i aint scared of nothin

Dead man tell no tale

Dogma: Im scared of one thing

Ko ho: Boo!

Dogma: you mf

-accidently runs into Obi-wans Battalion

Obi-wan: heres there mom and all our kids

-dinners at a fast food place outside the park and all sitting on the curb eating and talking about there day

-"LETS DO IT AGAIN!" "Fives we have three more days in the park." "OH HELL YEAH!"

[ladykailitha]

I am always on the hunt for my next story as I like to have four or five stories going on at the same (being able to have multiple stories going so that I always have something to post really helps with the anxiety like you wouldn't believe.)

And I think I have found my next one. With everyone doing Olympic stories I thought that I too, would throw my hat in the ring.

Back when I first started writing for Stranger Things (like September of '22 way back) I had this story I was posting on AO3 anonymously. The fear of writing for a fandom I hadn't seen the source material of left me terrified (I still worry about from time to time) had my anxiety going a billion miles an hour.

It was about Steve deciding to coach Eddie on getting on the swim team his final senior year so that teachers would be more lenient on his grades. And in return Eddie would help with Steve's trauma of having Barb die in his pool.

I ended up abandoning the work because the characters all wrong and I just started to hate it. It only had something like 34 kudos and 121 views after six chapters. It was not good.

So I am cannibalizing the plot for my next story.

Bit of an age gap. Eddie 18 and Steve is 24 when they meet but they don't get together until after the Olympics making them 20 and 26 respectively.

Steve was going to be Michael Phelps in world where he doesn't exist (shhhh) He had come in fifth his first Olympics as a fourteen year old. His next Olympics had him winning several medals, so many that the phrases "world record" and "foremost swimmer of his time" were tossed around.

But all that changed when he had an accident in his first match in his third Olympics where the bounding board slipped out from under him as he went to dive into the water, hitting his head and nearly drowning.

Leaving him with migraines and a fear of large bodies of water. So now he teaches swimming to little kids in kiddie pools and for the older ones, he uses an endless pool. But he steers clear of the main pool and if he has to use it, he has his assistant coach Robin get in the water for him. It isn't ideal but it works.

Enter Eddie Munson. Eddie who used to swim in middle school but after his mom died and his dad went to jail, he got sent to live with his uncle, Wayne. But because Wayne was working long hours at the plant Eddie was forced to give it up in high school.

Hopper caught him dealing weed and pulled to have Eddie do community service at the rec center, mopping floors, gather towels for the laundry, refilling soap dispensers.

Eddie didn't mind because it meant that he had free access to the pool any time he wanted.

One day, Steve comes in early because he's getting a new group of nuggets for his swim class when he sees Eddie doing a near flawless butterfly stroke.

They talk and Steve finds out that Eddie just didn't have the same opportunities Steve did otherwise he probably would have been in Steve's last Olympics. The next Olympics are two years away and Steve wants to train Eddie for them.

Eddie turns him down at first until on the last day of his community service and he realizes he'll lose access to the pool. So he decides to let Steve coach him because he figures he'll at least get two free years of pool time and then after he doesn't make it, Steve and him can go their separate ways.

Only not only does Eddie get into the Olympics he starts get gold in his events.

Someone plants weed on his to discredit him when they find out he used to deal with hopes of getting him disqualified but it backfires and the culprit is exposed as the one that sabotaged Steve four years ago.

Then after Eddie wins his fifth gold in his last event, Steve and Eddie kiss about it.

[katblu42]

Tie Me to the Moon

Installment 4 (of 5) in my Whump Wheel spinning experiment. This spin was for John and gave me Cuddling For Comfort and Cemetery.

It is another Young Tracys fic, but it requires some WARNINGS as it deals with grief/mourning, funerals and of course a cemetery. I'm also tagging for social anxiety, sensory overload and panic attack, although I'm not entirely sure exactly what I'm putting John through. If there's any additional warning or tag I need please let me know (or if these ones don't hit the mark).

Possibly more angst than whump.

The day started early. Scott had spoken with John and Virgil the night before about how much he was relying on them both to help get Alan and Gordon ready, since Grandma and Dad would both have a lot on their plate. So, John had set the alarm for 6am to give them time to wake themselves up before tackling the tinies.

By 9am all five boys were awake and fed and dressed in their Sunday best, shoes shined and hair combed awaiting final inspection before the cars arrived to take them to the church. Normally it would have been Dad who inspected the troops before such an important occasion but, like many other things over the last week or so, today the job was taken on by Scott. He left no stray hair or speck of lint unscrutinised, while their father was barely able to do more than glance at his boys and give Scott a pat on the shoulder as he passed on his way out the front door.

Scott decided it would be best if he went in the lead car with Dad. It was the one that had been fitted with the kiddie seats for Gordon and Alan, and Scott could sit between them and keep them settled. That left John and Virgil to ride in the second car with Grandma. The car trip was mostly silent, but Grandma told them they both looked very smart and did her best to smile despite clear indications she was holding back more tears.

As they neared the church it was impossible not to notice the large number of parked vehicles, some still offloading passengers. John let out a large sigh as their car pulled up in front of the chapel. The soft murmurings and general bustle of the gathering crowd penetrated their insulated little bubble even before the driver opened the door to let Grandma out. Virgil waited until he’d caught John’s eye and received a nod before opening his door so both boys could exit on the same side of the car.

The kindly young driver from the funeral home seemed to be keeping most of the well-meaning mourners at bay as the family gathered and were solemnly led into the church and ushered to the front pew. John tried to focus on the flowers, the quiet organ music, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through stained glass rather than the coffins or even the photos of Mom and Grandpa, and definitely not the endless stream of people filling the rows of seats behind them. It was a slightly tight fit getting all seven of them in the one pew, even with Alan on Dad’s (and later Scott’s) lap, but John was glad of the warm press of Virgil on his left and Gordon on his right.

The service was a simple, no-frills affair with the Minister officiating, but friends and family doing most of the talking. John listened through Dad and Grandma retelling stories he’d heard before, but there were little details revealed that he had never known. The anecdotes shared by the others who stepped up to the pulpit microphone – one of Grandpa’s farming neighbours, and an old friend of Mom’s from school – almost felt like stories about other people. It didn’t feel like they were talking about the people John had lost.

For John losing Grandpa was like a constellation of stars going missing from the night sky. It was Grandpa that had told him people are all made of the same stuff as the stars. He had been a quiet, watchful presence in his life, providing light and joy whenever he looked up and saw that twinkle in Grandpa’s eye. Like Ursa Major and Polaris, Grandpa was always there guiding him, giving direction when needed, but never wanting to overstep or overshadow his parents. Not the brightest light in his orbit, but an important, comforting presence that meant John always knew his place in the world.

Mom had been the sun at the centre of his life, his family, his everything. Without her all the light and warmth was gone from the world. Instead of a regular (though slightly wonky) orbit his world now felt like it was tumbling through space and gravity was constantly shifting. One moment he was too heavy to move and the next he was so light might be flung out into space. Night and day and seasons, years and everything he measured his life by had been connected to his Mom – waking him and tucking him into bed, making sure he dressed warm enough or wore sunscreen or had his raincoat, keeping track of birthdays and holidays and school excursion days were all her.

During the service no one spoke of Mom and Grandpa like that.

There was music. One of Mom’s favourite piano pieces. Virgil had wanted to be able to play it today, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to even sit at the piano, much less play at all since the accident. So a recording had been found and it was played as a backing track to the slideshow that flickered through image after image of happy memories telling part of two life stories.

There were prayers. Reassuring words from the minister about heaven and God’s love, and the love we should all share with each other. John wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about heaven, or God calling Mom and Grandpa home to his kingdom.

There was a poem read out by one of Mom’s work colleagues. It was something about not crying or being sad because they were gone, but being happy because they had lived. Many of the people in the room were obviously ignoring the advice – his immediate family included. There were a good many wet handkerchiefs and tissues in hands, a great deal of suppressed sobs and eye rubbing, and a few sleeves swiped across cheeks before the service was over.

Scott and Dad were among the pall bearers who carried the coffins out of the church and onto the waiting machinery that would take care of their final movements. John and his brothers and Grandma were the first of the mourners to follow in the sombre procession. Only a small number of people were permitted to follow the hovering gurneys across the grass and through the little cemetery to the waiting square-sided pits. Just family and a few close friends to witness the way the machinery slowly and smoothly lowered each coffin down into the earth, hear the minister recite the final ritual words, and each place a flower or a sprinkling of dirt atop the coffins in a last goodbye.

The rest of the large crowd had been encouraged to make their way into the Sunday School hall where the wake was to take place. Refreshments had been generously laid out on the tables inside. More photographs of both lost loved ones were on display throughout the room, along with so many more flowers and a large number of cards. But many of the people in attendance that day were still milling about outside the church buildings when John and his family returned through the cemetery for the wake.

John’s feet dragged as he approached the gentle hubbub of mingling friendly faces with sympathetic expressions. He could pick out people he knew well if he let himself concentrate, but the sheer number of individuals he was heading towards was a little overwhelming. They didn’t make it inside the hall before the onslaught began. Almost everyone wanted to say something, speak of sympathy, tell a story, offer “any help you need.” So many wanted to reach out, hold a hand or squeeze an arm, some came in for full-on hugs, cheek kisses and loud, teary exclamations of how sad it all was.

John lost his Dad and Grandma to the throng faster than he thought possible, but before he could be swept up in it himself he was thrown a lifeline. There was a familiar presence by his side, a brush of hand against hand, or specifically pinky against pinky – a request and an offer. John grabbed hold of Virgil’s hand and held fast, tethering himself to his brother like an anchor.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened or how long it had taken, but eventually they all made it inside the Sunday School hall. John was only aware of Virgil’s hand in his, the rest was a blur of faces, voices, bodies. Virgil dealt with anyone who stopped them to offer their personal condolences, listening to what they had to say and responding politely but managing to keep the interactions brief and shielding John from most of the attention. Somehow they made their way to a cluster of chairs where Grandma and Dad were seated, Alan in his father’s lap, still accepting condolences from well-wisher after well-wisher.

John was aware of sweat beading on his forehead as Virgil told him to take a seat next to Grandma for a bit, and then his brother disappeared into the crowd to go and fetch Grandma a cup of tea. He wiped sweaty palms on his trousers as he tried to look around the room. His eyes fell on Scott standing a few feet away, taking all the sympathetic social interactions in his stride, nodding, smiling, shaking hands, accepting embraces.

John’s mouth was dry and he wondered if he could make it across the room to grab a drink from the trestle table against the wall, but there was a sea of bodies he’d have to negotiate in between. For a moment his vision blurred and the vague images of people swam in a dizzying fashion before he could find something to focus on. Alan had obviously grown tired of the hair ruffling and cheek pinching and wriggled free of his Dad’s grasp, and was now trying to run through the small gaps between grown up pairs of legs. Gordon was keeping an eye on him – in between snaffling more cakes and cookies from the food table. John watched the terrible two until they were obscured by too many featureless figures.

Despite the late-winter-cool of the day, the church hall felt uncomfortably warm. The large space with its vaulted ceiling, tall, wide windows and polished wooden floorboards felt dark and gloomy and so very crowded. And the non-stop undercurrent of murmuring voices appeared to build in an unbearable crescendo John could not shut out. Too many bodies, too many voices, too much, too close . . . he needed space, he needed air, he had to get out!

Virgil saw his brother get up and hurry a little unsteadily to the exit as he came back with Grandma’s tea. He tried to keep an eye on the red-head so he could follow, but he had to excuse himself to Grandma and Dad, make his way over to Scott, politely interrupt the conversation and whisper in his big brother’s ear.

“John’s bolted. I’m going after him.”

Scott acknowledged with a nod as his eyes darted to the door, already closed again after John’s escape. Virgil wasted no more time in following, but once outside it took him a moment to figure out which direction John had taken.

John had no particular destination in mind, he just needed to get away. His feet carried him across the gravel driveway and through the grass without him registering the change of surface. He ran through the little cemetery without seeing the tombstones he passed, slowing only when he approached the boundary marked with a low stone wall before a neat, tall hedge. Unable to go any farther he turned and wobbled dizzily. His vision narrowed leaving dull blurred impressions of light and shadow. He heard nothing but the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, and he sank down to the ground, sitting heavily, knees bent and pulled up towards his chest. He scrunched his eyes tightly closed and slammed his hands over his ears, trying to block it all out.

Virgil approached slowly, but without trying to hide the sound of his footsteps. He lowered himself to sit facing John, resisting the strong urge to reach out and touch him. Seeing his brother in such distress clawed at his heart. He couldn’t let him struggle through this alone.

“John?” He kept his voice quiet and hoped he could be heard despite the hands staying firmly pressed against ears. “I’m here with you. Just me. No one else is around.”

There was no noticeable response.

“If you can hear me, I need you to try and slow your breathing down a bit, John. Deep breath in,“ and Virgil inhaled, “and out nice and slow.” Virgil waited for a second, watching John’s shallow, ragged breathing for any change. “In,” another inhaled breath, “and out.”

As Virgil continued repeating the instruction like a mantra John’s breathing gradually began to even out into slower, deeper, more controlled breaths. He wasn’t sure, but he thought John’s vice-like grip over his ears might be relaxing a little too.

“You’re doing great, John. Keep focusing on your breathing. Keep listening. Hear the breeze whispering through the leaves? Did you hear those birds?”

John did hear the cry of a bird overhead, and an answering call a little farther away as his hands drifted away from his head. As he lowered them to limply rest on the ground beside him he heard a gentle gust of wind rustle the hedges, and he registered that it did indeed sound a bit like a whisper.

“The sun’s broken free of the clouds. Can you feel it on your face, John? Can you feel the wind in your hair? You do realise there’s dirt and leaves beneath your fingertips, right?”

John turned his focus where his brother’s voice directed it, feeling the warmth on the left side of his face, and the breeze toying with his hair. There was indeed leaf litter and slightly damp dirt beneath his flexing fingers.

“If you’re ready to open your eyes you’ll see the moon’s out. I like the way the moon looks in the day. Against the blue of the sky the shadows make it look almost see-through.”

Translucent. That would have been a better word for what Virgil was trying to say. The thought flitted through John’s mind as he let his eyes drift open and scan the sky until they latched onto the gibbous moon framed by scattered cumulous clouds. He was also aware there was irony in the way his brother was effectively using the moon to anchor him, to bring him back to earth and ground him in the here and now.

Virgil had stopped talking, leaving the wind and occasional twitters and cries of the birds to fill the silence as John watched the clouds dance around the moon. He could feel his brother’s eyes on him almost as tangibly as he could feel the damp earth he was sitting on and the cool stone of the wall at his back. Now feeling much calmer he took a deep breath and brought his gaze down from the sky to meet the concern and compassion contained in those warm, brown eyes.

“Welcome back.” A hint of a smile played across Virgil’s face as he spoke.

A quiet moment stretched between them. No words spoken, but information passing from brother to brother through eye contact alone.

Content that John was no longer caught in a spiral he couldn’t escape on his own, Virgil glanced over his shoulder towards the Sunday School hall.

“I should go back, but you can stay here if you want. I’ll come and find you when it’s time to go. Just don’t wander off or anything.”

John didn’t speak as he chanced his own glance back toward the ongoing wake. Then, as Virgil made a move to get up and leave, John reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“Stay. Please?”

Virgil stopped and stared first at the fingers digging into his wrist, then into pleading, desperate aquamarine. He simply nodded and adjusted his position so he was sitting next to John, their shoulders touching. John loosened his grip on Virgil’s wrist but didn’t let go, so John’s arm looped around his knees and Virgil’s arm crossed his body to keep the connection. There was an almost imperceptible hesitation, but then simultaneously John leaned in towards his brother and Virgil wrapped his arm around John, pulling them into a secure embrace.

John finally let go of Virgil’s wrist, bringing his arm in close, grabbing a fistful of Virgil’s suit jacket and snuggling closer into his brother’s chest. This enabled Virgil to employ both arms in the hug. John rarely cuddled up like this with anyone, but all the times he could remember doing so were with Mom. His next intake of breath hitched at the realisation, and Virgil held a little tighter. The threat of tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, and he was grateful that, while not the same as a cuddle from Mom, he was still able to find this level of safety and comfort in the arms of someone who loved him.

“I want her back,” he sobbed, letting the tears flow and drip onto Virgil’s jacket.

“Yeah. Me too.”

John heard the tears in Virgil’s voice, but he already knew his brother felt the same absence in their hug.

Neither boy could say how long they stayed out there, huddled together, holding tight while hot tears streaked their cheeks. Time may as well have stood still for all it mattered. Nothing else was important, just the feeling that this moment, however sad, was there’s alone to share until Scott came and found them to tell them it was time to go home.

[rice-pudding-slaps]

A WILD thought just crossed my head but a Cats High School Teachers AU? It would be ✨glorious✨

Just imagine!!

Jennyanydots would totally be a language teacher That's how we call it in my country lmao language and communications. It's basically grammar and literature ANYWAY that is also kind of a mother for kids who need help. She would totally and absolutely be that Miss Honey kinda Vibes™ teacher that always has a kind word for you and if she sees you crying, she will protect you with her life (And also maybe she has this huge bag filled with napkins and sweets). She's strict tho. But not in a mean way. She doesn't just gift grades, she makes you work for it. You can turn up your paper again, but it will have 300 corrections. But she will praise your efforts and help you overcome your difficulties.

Skimble gives me such Math Teacher That Always Has a Story and Rarely Actually Teaches The Class kinda vibes. His class is always on the most absolute of silence and no one ever DREAMS of pranking him. The kids knoooow that they can say "Hey, mr Skimbles I heard you were on a train once" and boom he will tell you all these stories about his time being in charge of the Northern Mail. He has told the story sooooo many times that the children once put on a play with one of the stories for Teachers Day or smtn. He was moved to tears

Demeter would absolutely be an art teacher and be the most understanding teacher ever. She's patient and kind and she will give you a day more to bring in your work if you need it. She also always has a way to find hurt kids. Coming from an abusive background herself, she's quick to act whenever she feels a child migh need any type of help. She ended up being That Teacher That Every LGBTQ+ Kid Befriends and she is proud to be helpful and provide love to those who need it. She's very close to Munk and is always helping with the props for the plays.

Bomba is a science teacher because I said so. And because she has a similar vibe to most of my science teachers when I was in school lmao. She's funny and charismatic and pretty laid back. And you never know what to expect from her. The kids love her bc she might spend some class talking all about formulas and next class is "Hey kids wanna learn how to make EXPLOSIONS??" they never actually blow up something, but she makes the lab classes the best thing.

Munkustrap is an absolute history teacher. No questions asked. The man knows how to narrate every historical moment like you were there. He has a silver tounge (pun intended). And he always tries to teach the most he can, because history is just so broad and there is so much to talk about. And he definetely would answer all the questions, even the more weird ones. He's called by kids the Protector because even when he's easly the most strict teacher ever, he would never let anyone bad mouth his students. No matter how chaotic the class was, he will always tell them that as long as they learned something, they won. He also works in the theatre departement, so the theatre kids are in love with the guy. They tried to set him up with Demeter in a play, but gave up after a half hour speech on how they shouldn't be involved in their teachers personal lifes.

Tugger is obviously a music teacher. He is that laid back, friendly and overall awesome teacher that everyone just loves. He plays any instrument you can think of and will teach you if you ask. As a joke, a whole class asked to learn the bagpipes and when next class this rockstar of a teacher appeared with a fucking bagpipe and a whole lot for the kids they fucking LOST IT. He will help you with practice and if you want to get into serious music, then he will absolutely root for you. He has a song composed for every teacher and absolutely everyone hates him for this. He's also with the theatre kids and always helps with plays maybe to mess with Munk, maybe he likes the attention. He's also in charge of music and dance presentations and he abuses his powers greatly. And everytime a class graduates he says that he doesn't really cares that much (is the circle of life, baby) but will shed silent tears everytime bc he's gonna miss the kiddies.

Misto's obviously a dance teacher. Duh. He might be an ex student for the same school. He's fresh out of college and he sometimes doesn't know what to do, but he tries really hard. And he's harsh as fuck for the same reason. He always wears a tuxedo to class and a bowtie bc he tought it was a formal thing and now it's kind of like "his thing". He's kind of cold at first and doesn't talk really that much, the kids first tought he hated them, but later found out that he just goes non verbal sometimes and designed a whole system to communicate instructions and corrections. Misto was so happy. And that's why there is a board on the classroom they use to dance. He's also one of the teachers that every LGBTQ+ kid loves, and he tries his best to support each one. And yes, every day they ask "DO THE CONJURING TURNS MR. MISTOFFELEES" and he gladly does. There was this rumor that he was magic bc once a kid saw him in a presentation out of school and they swear he sparkled out of the blue. He knows, and sometimes he would do little tricks for the kiddos for funs, and other teachers just to mess with them. He also goes to the teathre departement and it's constantly working with Tugger so the music and dance kids do presentations together. The kids ship it so hard

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer are the best gym teachers ever. They also are very new to this, but they make class the most fun thing ever. They teach sports and gymnastics with ease. And they have no mercy on dodge ball. No. Mercy. They once were playing on the field with the kids and hit Tugger on the head. The legend says that they ran across the school for all night. The truth is that they outrun Tugger, but not Munk.

Jellylorum is the school's nurse. She always has a tecito de hierbas for you. And she will always hear you and try to get you to be better. She has infinite patience for eveyone. And she always carries pads and tampons for the kids who may need it. And if you ever need a shoulder to cry on? She's there too. She and Jenny have their officed flood on Mother's day because they are the second mothers of so many kids. She also catches up with ex-students and remember every name.

Gus is the official Theatre teacher. He is this old man who is so wise and strict, but just because he loves his craft so so much. Every year there is some kind of rumor that he might retire, but it never seemed to happen. He has a little office with so many photos and diplomas and it's just filled with memories. He is very harsh on the kids. Very. But they love him because he also can spend hours talking about his greatest performances on theatre. When he actually had to retire because he was starting to have very fragile health, everyone cried. They held a big play and he played Growltiger. No one had a dry eye that night. And he still visits the school from time to time. He goes to every play.

You might say that Old Deuteronomy is the principal and you would be very right. But this man was a teacher in his day. He taught philosophy and history and english and literature. He has more degreed that a high school teacher had to have, but he loved dearly the art of teaching. And he remembers every kid. Every morning he sits at the entrance and says to every one of them by name. He plays with the kids when his health let's him. He has a framed photo of him and Gus on their first years as teachers just along side a photo of the year Tugger joined Munkustrap on the school staff. And everyone is very sure that he might let Munkustrap take the position one day. He's also a kind soul. And will let kids tug on his beard. There was this christmas when he dressed up as santa and it was the sweetest thing ever.

Tantomille and Coricopat are philosophy teachers. They take turns doing classes and you will never know wich one taught you last class because they are in perfect sync. Their test are the most outlandish thing ever, and give points for "originality" wich is mostly just wich kid said the most weird but true thing. The kids are kinda scared of them. Just enough to not to mess up their classes.

I am not completely sure, but Alonzo being a spanish teacher just brings me so much joy. He's always teaching them songs and little games to learn spanish and the kids take total advantage of that just to mess with him. He never gets truly mad if they play a prank on him. And he's the Protector number 2 to the kids, bc he would absolutely turn up to a teachers reunion wet from head to toe and instead of tattle on the kids, he would just say it was an accident. Munk knows and always ends up catching the culprit, not always with Alonzo's help.

The Rumpus Cat is the school mascot.

[desiraypark]

Clyde x Sherri Master Post

Clyde x Sherri is an ongoing non-linear series about (now) married couple, Clyde and Sherri (Simmons) Logan. Clyde and Sherri are currently living it up in “real-time”, but entries could be set in the past or future. Sometimes major events are sped up (ex: in real-time, they moved to Norfolk, VA in September 2020, but I’ve been writing them in their new city since July 2020).  This post (which is long, I must add) contains a breakdown of the series entries and some story development details (the Capricorn jumps out, y’all).  Full Series in Posting Order (Entry Breakdown below) LONG POST WARNING

ENTRY INDEX ( *- means they’re being sexy and/or they’re gonna bang) Before They Met July 1992 (Young Clyde x Sherri cross paths) Dating Era The First Date “Familiar” (How They Met) Untitled Prompt Request (Clyde asking Sherri to quit one of her jobs) “Was it for a good reason?” (Sherri learns about the robbery)  Shattered (continuation of the previous) Locked Away (cont. of the prev.) No More Secrets (cont. of the prev.) - Sherri x Jimmy Like Magnets (cont. of the prev.) Meet the Parents (Clyde meets Terry & Ramona Simmons) “Where’s Sherri?” (Request/Clyde x Sherri at a family cookout) Honeybunch (Why Sherri calls Clyde “Honeybunch”) Movin’ In (Prompt request)

Married (Before the child/children) Dearly Beloved (Part of their Wedding) Shut Up, Clyde* (Their Honeymoon) Summer Madness (Summer fluff) Bare Feet (Prompt Request - Clyde and Sherri enjoy a kiddie pool) Lil’ House Guest (Critter alert) Have Clyde’s Cake and Eat It, Too (Sherri can’t resist sweets) Sherri Logan, P.I.* (A lil’ roleplay)  Bad* (A hint of dominatin’ Clyde) Are We Ready? (Discussing children) “Where is my tongue?!” (Sherri gets her wisdom teeth pulled) A Birthday First* (Sherri puts on a show) Lunch Time* (Clyde his hungry) “Love Won’t Let Me Wait”* (Baby Fever in a thunderstorm) Yoink! (Sherri is not to be trifled with) Headed West (Clyde and Sherri move) Every Room* (You see what it says) Something in Common (Clyde and Sherri meet their neighbors) A Mean Old Fashioned (Clyde gets a new job) “Her Name is Sherri.” (Clyde finds the perfect job for Sherri) A Long Night* (If you give a Clyde a remote...) Negative to a Positive (Sherri suspects pregnancy) Deserving (Sherri helps Clyde through anxiety) Bad Mood* (Clyde fixes that lil’ attitude) Babies with Dimples (Clyde and Sherri have too much to drink) Sherri and the Giant Peach (Sherri tries on business clothing) Apple Pie (Sherri freestyles a popular dessert) Chef Sadie (Sadie goes on a cooking competition reality show) Too Much* (Clyde lets out some frustration) No Solids / No Sweets (Sherri’s sick and refuses to do the right thing) Cherries & Honey (Sherri gets a tattoo) The Near Future The Big People (From Clyde and Sherri’s child’s POV) Shush. (Pregnant Sherri wants Clyde to be comfortable) Peanut Butter Jelly Time! (Pregnant Sherri is hungry and horny) The Family Man (Clyde’s dad returns) Catwoman (The Logans go trick-or-treating) The Distant Future Ruby (Clyde and Sherri’s 40th Anniversary) The Weight (Part I - Part II) (Sherri deals with impostor’s syndrome) With Others No More Secrets (Sherri x Jimmy) The Little Things (Clyde x James Cooke) Extra Stuff The World of Clyde x Sherri - “behind-the-scenes” type stuff (includes their birth charts, text conversations, descriptions of their homes, etc.) Sim Clyde x Sherri (I made them in The Sims 4) _______________________ MAJOR TIMELINE The events of Logan Lucky are pushed back to 2015 solely because I wanted Clyde and Sherri to have known each other for a long-time (again, relative to “real-time”).  2015 Early May - Clyde got locked up Late August - Clyde got out December - Clyde moved into his own two-bedroom home // Clyde and Sherri “formally” met.  2017 January - Clyde and Sherri started dating Early April - Clyde and Sherri broke up Early May - Clyde and Sherri got back together Late May - Sherri formally met Jimmy and Mellie  June - Clyde met Sherri’s separated parents (Terry and Ramona Simmons) 2018 March - Clyde and Sherri got engaged September - Clyde and Sherri got married “2020″ September - Clyde and Sherri moved to Norfolk, VA. ______________________ BACKGROUND STORIES Some Clyde Logan headcanons; Sherri Logan development Content/Trigger Warnings: Depression; impostor syndrome; self-doubt; death; parent death; war mention; war injury mention; abandonment (by a parent); cancer mention. Sherri (Simmons) Logan was born on January 25, 1988, in Charleston, West Virginia. Her family moved to Boone when she was a toddler. She has an older sister named Robyn and a little brother named Terry Jr (aka TJ). Sherri graduated high school with a 4.0 GPA and attended North Carolina Central University where she studied Early Childhood Education for two years. Her life’s dream was to become an elementary school librarian. While in college, Sherri’s parents separated. As a result, she became depressed, and eventually so overwhelmed with school work that she dropped out.  Despite her inner desire, Sherri avoided any work in the education field and took on jobs in retail and customer service. When she and Clyde started dating, she worked two jobs--cashier at a dollar store and cashier at a local supermarket. She was also living with her best friend, Tasha. Sherri still feels the “sting” of (self-imposed) embarrassment that has come with being “the one who was supposed to “make it” but didn’t”, but occasionally considers returning to school. Sherri’s sister, Robyn, moved back to Charleston when she married Devon. They have a son, Devon Jr (aka DJ), and a baby girl named Princess. Her brother, TJ, lives in Atlanta, GA. Sherry currently works as the morning/afternoon receptionist at Busy Bees Daycare. Entries to Reference: “July 1992″, “Her name is Sherri.”, “Untitled Prompt Request”, “Familiar”. Clyde Logan was born on November 25, 1983, in Boone, West Virginia to Donna Logan and Timothy Green. He has an older brother named James (aka Jimmy) and a little sister named Melody (aka Mellie). When Clyde was about eight years old, Timothy (never having married Donna), abandoned his family--only sending the occasional postcard to his parents and for the first couple of years, birthday cards to his kids (through his parents). When Donna died of cancer in 1996, the Logan children moved in with their maternal grandparents, Aaron and Sylvia. 

Around this time, Clyde noticeably became more introverted, but often got in trouble for little mischievous acts (ex: setting off the school fire alarm to get out of a test; the occasional schoolyard fight). He joined the Army after high school and just as he was returning home after a second tour in Iraq, Clyde lost the lower part of his left arm in a roadside accident. Inspired by his newfound love for cooking shows, Clyde began taking bartending classes, and late in 2004, started working at Duck Tape. He worked there for sixteen years. 

Aaron and Sylvia Logan have since passed away (Aaron in 1999, Sylvia in 2008), as has Clyde’s paternal grandmother, Betty (d. 2013). His brother Jimmy currently lives in Greenbrier County, WV has a daughter named Sadie and a fiancée named (ironically), Sylvia. Mellie is recently married to Joe Bang. Clyde currently works as day bartender at a posh restaurant called Strafford’s Kitchen.  Entries to Reference: “July 1992″, “Familiar”, “A Mean Old Fashioned”, “Headed West”.  _____________________ I even have a work schedule for these two but I’m gonna to sit down somewhere and finish this. Bye. Lol.