#and clinging desperately to people who have priorities higher than you

[thegooblet]

sorry i just support all of kaboodles wrongs and wrongs

[dcawritings]

You are the manager of the daycare (and Sun by extension). Some people think this means you don't care if he gets yelled at.

This assumption is wildly inaccurate, and you are not afraid to professionally threaten correct them.

You're in the middle of something important.

It's been clinging at your thoughts all day while you tried desperately to ignore it, but at some point it became impossible to deny the truth--technically, it had a higher priority than everything you decided to complete much earlier in the shift.

And unfortunately that leaves you stuck at your desk, staring down hard at the collection of intake forms and spreadsheets. You know it won't take more than half an hour, but that time would be some of the most horrible, boring, downright painful minutes of your life.

Could you push it off until tomorrow? Maybe Monday even?

No, you ultimately decide, the paperwork needed to be done. There was no point to pushing it back again--it still needed to be forwarded to the document filing team, then to human resources, and that would only end up making your job harder in the end since only then could you finalize everything.

By the time that you'd actually relegated yourself to sitting down and getting the work done, the day was nearly over with--parents were starting to come in and pick up their children.

Some were kids of employees that worked at the Pizzaplex itself; childcare cost was heavily discounted for workers of any department, so it was extremely convenient for many who simply didn't have any other options. They were also some of the sweetest kids you'd ever met, if only because they were very familiar with the daycare and its rules. Other children were simply dropped off because the guardians wanted some time to enjoy the facility themselves for a few hours or so. The process for checking a child out was the same regardless, and typically very painless after a parent knew to expect the process.

Normally you don't need to worry about assisting with child pickups. You had several employees that were expected to make sure the process was quick and smooth, though there was only two on the clock right now--a couple call-outs had left you with less people than you'd like on such a busy day, but the two working today were some of your best and longest-term employees. They handled plenty of crazier days, so you trusted them to keep things together when office work took precedence over smaller tasks that kept you visible and available even for the kids themselves.

So, one can imagine your utter surprise when the sound of disdained yelling suddenly echoes through the daycare. Not just a little yelling either; it's shrill, with enough intensity that it reaches all the way to your back office and that... that takes a lot. Enough that it immediately tugs at your instincts to investigate.

The words aren't clear enough to make out, so you push yourself away from the desk and leave the office, then out of the hallway into the main daycare area.

It doesn't take more than a breath of time to realize who is making all the noise--a parent. They're standing near the front of the daycare, but not where they're supposed to be.

The check-out desk was located in the small room overlooking the daycare's main play area, separated by plexiglass and rope netting. Not only was it supposed to be an easier way to get kids comfortable in being away from their parents (they literally arrive in the daycare by way of a slide into a ball pit), but it also served as a form of security--nobody could enter the daycare without proper credentials, and there was always someone posted up there to greet anyone coming to drop off or pick up their child.

But this one? Somehow, this one came through an employee-only entrance. That audacity alone would make your blood boil, but the fact that you recognized the woman only made it worse.

Her shrill screaming filled the room with venom while she clutched her son against her hip, as if trying to shield him from the poor daycare attendant animatronic who was, as best as he could, diffuse the situation.

It doesn't take long to get an idea of what she's going off about either--the woman is not particularly quiet about it.

"When I leave my son here, I expect that he will be safe!" she hisses, brushing her son's hair as if trying to soothe the child. "And what do I find when I come to pick him up? That he's been manhandled and tossed around like a toy--you're lucky he didn't break a bone!"

The young boy doesn't look injured, and if anything he seems more scared of his mother.

Travis, you recall his name--a rather quiet boy, didn't always like to play with other kids. His mother, Sarah, worked in one of the back offices as a programmer. Her hours were always odd, so his father tended to be the one to drop the boy off. Now you understand why.

The thing was, Travis really liked playing with Sun. Since he was shy, the daytime bot often took it upon himself to try and encourage the boy to take part in craftime or storytime--he'd recently been able to get him to play in the ball pit with the other kids his age.

"This kind of behavior is completely inexcusable," she finally seethes, a look of one-note rage in her eyes that seemed to burn the longer she looks at the animatronic. "I will make sure to put in a complaint about this--"

"I-I am sorry that you think your son was h-harmed, Miss Martin. I assure you that h-he was just playing with the other kids." Sun lifts his hands up in a passive way, trying desperately to keep her from screaming more. People were starting to stare at the unfolding scene, and it was quickly coming undone at the seams. "I am incapable of doing anything that w-would put any little superstars in danger!"

Sarah's eyes gleam with poison as she seems to catch her claws on a hook. "Oh, so you're saying you're defecting from your programing?"

"N-no! Not at all! My programming is clean as a whistle, I have it debugged at r-regular intervals!"

"I work in the programming department," she says, voice going quiet. "With the glamrock series code. Directly down the hall from the man who makes decisions about every machine in this facility. All it would take is for me to walk right down to his office and let him know that the daycare is turning into a severe liability for the company." You are already hurrying over, not missing the way Sunny's fists start to clench tight, tight enough for his joints to squeal under the pressure as he restrains himself. He's trying so hard to keep his professionalism under the abuse--and Sarah seems to know exactly what to say.

"Your model is old. Your code is old. It's a shoddy piece of work that should be scrapped and redone, I've been telling them that for months now. They'd be better of scrapping you so we can finally have room for another glamrock and-"

You waste no time in immediately stepping directly into the line of fire, forcing yourself into the space between Sun and Sarah who has, until that moment, been encroaching closer and closer into his personal space. Was she trying to set him off? To see how far he would take the abuse before saying something wrong?

Probably. You wouldn't put it past a cruel woman like her at this point.

"What seems to be the problem here?" you say, fake smile wide and tone forcibly friendly. "I sure heard you all the way from my office!"

"Oh no dear, don't worry, it's nothing you need to concern yourself about," the woman says, waving her hand at you as if expecting her words to be like an order. "Though you can be a dear and go fetch the manager?"

You don't move, but clench your jaw tight and force the words through your teeth, "I happen to be the manager of the daycare, so if there is an issue or complaint, then I need to know about it! So please," the fake smile drops and you stare at her hard. "What is the problem here?"

Sarah's expression twitches with annoyance, but she tries to immediately save face by gesturing to her son and acting as if she was the one getting yelled at.

"Well, I didn't want to make a big deal of it, but my son has been injured because of your animatronic!"

You glance over at Travis. The poor kid is no older than eight, and he's trying to stare down at his shoes, his face flushed red with embarrassment and shame.

"Hey, little buddy," you kneel down to be closer to eye-level with him. "Did something happen to get you hurt?"

He shakes his head before his mother can try to interject. When you try to ask him another question she finally puts a hand between his gaze and yours, breaking it and forcing you to look back at her.

"That thing is running on severely old, broken code," she says, tone low and voice slow, as if trying to communicate an unspoken threat. "It's only a matter of time before something happens. Before someone gets hurt. I don't understand why they haven't just decommissioned the abhorrent thing. Doesn't even look as cute as the glamrocks."

Oh. So she's chosen death?

No. Breathe. Slowly. Remember how things work. Remember to play it smart. She wants you to get angry, needs to get a response out of you just so she can use it to cry to upper management.

Be smart about this. Be smart and unyielding. It takes every ounce of restraint not to deck the woman in the nose right there--but you at least have an upper hand.

"Who is your direct manager?"

"Huh?"

You stare at her expectantly, letting the silence fill the room before finally clarifying and repeating yourself. "Who. Is. Your. Direct. Manager?"

"I-I don't know how that's relevant to the current problem we're trying to solve."

"Well," you finally say, pulling out your company-assigned mini pad and scrolling through the employee database. "I need to get into contact with them about your behavior. Obviously you've forgotten several very important policies and I want to make sure you're educated on them as need be."

"Wh-what policies?" Sarah demands. "I haven't broken anything--that thing is what we're talking about right now."

You shake your head, proud of the even tone to your voice even though you want nothing more than to scream and yell at her in kind.

"First, you enter the daycare using an unapproved door-"

"I am an employee for the company-!"

"-and even employees are not allowed to use that door. It is for daycare attendants and handlers only. It is an active security measure to ensure the safety of little superstars like your son, whom you obviously seem to care for the safety of, right?"

She is silent, sputtering, taken aback by your confidence or simple knowledge of how to play the system correctly.

"Second, I have you on record actively harassing a coworker. Not only are you specifically not using his preferred pronouns, you are also belittling and demeaning him and his ability to do his job correctly. A job which I will remind you is difficult and stressful and comes with a wide variety of nuance."

You take the opportunity to step forward. Not too far, just a little idle step. Enough to take control and apply pressure to the situation.

"I'm sorry that you can't seem to understand the subtlety of how kids tend to play around Travis' age, and I'm sorry that you don't seem to care about the fact that he has been making very good progress in getting to know the other kids--specifically because of Sun's hard work with him."

Another small, calculated step. Sarah retreats from how she's looming forward, and you can see the tension in her jaw.

"Harassing a coworker? I haven't said anything to-"

"Sun? You mean one of my employees? The very one I heard you screaming at?" You shrug, managing to seem coldly nonchalant with surprising ease--maybe it's the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Between the heat of your words, you feel one of Sun's hand gently grabbing the back of your shirt. Not tugging, just holding on. "I mean, if you like we can go into my office and I can pull the cameras--if I misunderstood something then surely we can go over the recording and find out where I'm not getting that right."

That's the final push. Sarah knows she can't win the argument or force you to back down from a legitimate, honest-to-god threat. Despite being in a different department, technically you are still above her; you already know her manager. Marcus was a pretty easy-going guy that had a lot of sympathy for the animatronics, so it wouldn't take much for him to write her up from your word alone.

"I... well, maybe I just misunderstood," the woman finally says, her smile cold and not reaching her eyes. "No need to make this a big deal or anything! I will make sure to use the right door next time, my mistake."

Your mouth moves faster than your brain can stop them--it's edging on the line of being appropriate for someone of your position, but you need to make sure this woman understands that you are willing to hold your ground.

"Please do, because if I hear of something like this happening again? I will ban you outright from the daycare facility."

Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth as if to say something, but she's already lost. You have the authority to decline service to anyone, and at least with this situation you were grateful to have that power.

Sarah hurries out of the room without another word. You feel bad for Travis--the kid really didn't deserve to be in the middle of all that--but he offers some assurance by turning around to try and wave before the two of them disappear beyond the door.

You barely get a chance to let out a held breath before a pair of hurried footsteps approach you.

"Is everything okay?" one of the attendants ask. She's normally so soft spoken, but you can hear the genuine concern leaking through the words. "I knew as soon as I saw Sarah things would be bad--she always tries to find something to yell about when she picks Travis up."

"Yeah," the other worker echoes, then turns to speak to Sun. "I am so sorry you ended up with her, Sunny. If I knew she had used the door down here I would have immediately left the intake room."

The two of them started to crowd around you and Sun a bit more than you liked. Jesus, how was Sun even doing?

"We're okay, it's fine just-" another sigh spills from your lips, exhaustion taking the space where adrenaline had kept you so still and composed. "You two go make sure the other kids are okay? That was a lot of screaming for them to hear."

With only a little more consoling they finally move away to check on the few kids still waiting to get picked up. It leaves you and Sun alone at least, a vague amount of privacy.

You turn around, not sure what to expect from the animatronic--but it's a surprise all the same to find him staring at you with wide, as if unbelieving eyes. There's a sense of tension hidden somewhere in his expression, but its overshadowed by something else. Something hard to read.

"... Are you okay, Sunny?" you finally ask in a soft, gentle voice. He looks down, peering at the multicolored carpet silently. All it takes is the soft touch of your hand gently touching the side of his faceplate to make him twitch, listening but still not looking at you. "Don't you worry about anything, okay? She's just a cruel nobody who likes making other people feel bad. I will make sure she's not allowed anywhere beyond the intake room and make a recommendation that Travis' dad be the only one who can pick him up."

He is still silent, but you're relieved to see his body loosen. All that tension, all that heartache and anger, almost all gone in an instant.

"Sunny...?"

After a moment, the animatronic finally tilts his face into your touch. Before you can ask or say anything else, however, he sweeps you into his arms in a tight hug. So tight in fact that he begins to spin you around in a circle, stopping only when he's done sputtering.

"You didn't have to do all that for little ol' me! Someone so busybusy like you shouldn't need to deal with parents at all--you're so silly, starlight!"

Despite the fact that his words try to sound casual, you saw every sign in the book that Sun had barely been taking the woman's verbal abuse. You can't imagine what would have happened if you hadn't shown up--would he have snapped? Would she have threatened something worse?

"Oh goodness please put me down Sunny-" you lean into his arms as the room slowly stops spinning around you. Then, when you collect yourself, you offer him a warm and genuine smile. "Sunshine, you are one of my employees, and nobody deserves to be talked down to like that at all. It's not fair for her to treat you like that-" you catch a look of worry somewhere in his eyes, and so you quickly add, "-and I will never let you be decommissioned. There isn't anything wrong with you, so don't let her empty threats put a rain cloud over you."

It's only in that moment that you realize how tightly his hands are grasping at your uniform.

"... you... promise?"

He's more scared of that then he ever lets on.

"I promise," you say with complete confidence. "Nobody will ever hurt you on my watch, Sun. You and Moon both. They'll have to go through my stubborn ass first--and I actually memorized most of the employee handbook anyway."

"Starlight!" he says, sounding shocked.

"Wh-what?"

"Language."

You chuckle, the sound rumbling through your chest as you bring a hand over your face. You'll have to touch base with Sun again once the other kids and employees have left for the night, but at least he's doing better.

And you're still sending a message to Marcus about her--she'll be lucky if she doesn't get a huge write-up for that outburst.

[louderfade]

PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE FINE PRINT THAT'S ACTUALLY JUST FOR DECORATION AND IT'S ALL REALLY BORING WE SWEAR

is your job performance suffering due to a persistent desire to lead a fulfilling life? the friendly pharmaceutical companies have developed a solution which they have generously made available for purchase. here watch this drug advertisement we worked so hard on. it shows people free of pain enjoying their day at the office. these are actual patients we cured, not paid actors. questioning this or any statement indicates affiliation with political extremism on both sides and means you're probably a terrorist. maybe even a double terrorist. besides, knowledge is a burden, wouldn't you rather just trust us, the way you do with your health? you should ask your doctor if workmoronal is right for you. workmoronal treats all symptoms related to resistance and/or defense of personal freedoms and can reduce your sense of having a soul in under two weeks. get back to being a productive employee with workmoronal from johnson and johnson. a family company. but not your family. you don't really see them anymore. and you're fine with that. really. by now you're generally ok with whatever the boss decides. another full recovery made possible by workmoronal.

it's really wonderful the way science is helping people lead better lives every day. not people like you though. people like the guy who owns johnson and johnson. who remembers what his family looks like. but he worked hard. he earned what he has. his collection of bank notes proves that he's a better person than you, and this moral superiority has kept him healthy. he didn't need a doctor's help to be a Valuable and Productive Employee. you, however, require a treatment regimen of workmoronal. also you've been asking too many questions and the doctor has diagnosed you with chronic curiosity, which, without treatment, can be fatal (for someone much more important than you). so you've been prescribed two capsules of acceptall, to be taken with booze. this should help slow down your higher brain and reduce symptoms of critical thinking. you may return to work tomorrow. in fact you have to or you'll starve in the street. if you would prefer to use a suicide booth at this time, please see the reception staff to schedule an appointment. patients who miss their appointments will be charged a fee they can't afford. this reflects a society that values keeping one's word. otherwise people might find you unreliable. and that doesn't look very good on a resume.

it would seem that the severity of your case demands a higher level of care. may we suggest our outpatient treatment program to correct confusion surrounding life's purpose? it's the doctor's opinion that you're a good candidate for priority readjustment therapy. this is highly effective and a great opportunity for you. well, no it won't bring you any peace or reduce the psychic impact of the horrors, and it doesn't actually help you feel better in any noticeable way. but we're healthcare providers. that's not what we do here. we are however proud to offer a wide array of pill-shaped solutions to problems. well, not your problems. once again, we refer to the problems of the johnson and johnson guy who gets to see his family. and one of his problems is you. specifically what remains of your humanity and the stubborn way in which you cling to it. workmoronal will make you forget about all that. we have pills that can gut you from the inside and lobotomize you irrevocably until you no longer suffer or despair. you will no longer know love or joy either, but it won't take you long to be desperate enough not to care. they'll make real life so miserable you'll line up to have the spark of your spirit chemically extinguished. you might even be grateful for it. almost everyone is eventually grateful for it. but don't be too hard on yourself. you're only the picked-clean ghostbones of a human, after all. you were such a cooperative patient that even the scavengers got their fill. and everyone has already eaten by the time you realize they never set a place for you at their table. for those born to your station, there are only two options at every meal: you're either the servant or you're what's being served.

[promisedneverwrite]

Who will catch you now?

Masterlist

A/N: a bacchanalia fic where Bea was the target instead of Zoey, Poppy sees the hurt in Bea's eyes but continues on for appearance sake while crying on the inside, requested by @rayvenz3 (uh Idk if it's angsty enough but yeah)

Play the song on loop while you read :)

TW: verbal abuse, gaslighting, hallucinations (Please tell me if I missed any)

Supremacy above all, that was the Sinclair way. No matter how it had to be achieved, being at the top was the only option. It was her one priority.

There was was no use for distractions, no use for personal attachments, or friends outside of business who would only use her for their advantage. It was us against them, that is what Piers had ingrained in her from a young age. To be ruthless, and to trust no one.

So she kept people at a distance. Used whatever form of flattery and blackmail to get them to fall in line and built a whole chess board of pieces she could move at will and sacrifice when she needed.

She couldn't have people rising above their station, she wouldn't allow it.

So she did whatever she had to, no matter how much she loathed it, and no matter how much of what she said wasn't true just to keep climbing higher and higher until she stood on the highest peak far from anyone's reach.

Isn't this view glorious? It only gets better the higher you go you know

Her father's voice, and an apparition of him always in the forefront of every decision she's made. Always beckoning her to the height of what society could offer her. Whispering of the fame and fortune she would continue to achieve as he floated at the top beside her.

But there was another voice. Small in comparison to her father's, she had never seen who it belonged to, but she sounded familiar. An echo of a past she once was.

Please Poppy, I'm scared

The sound came from below, it always did and for once she looked down and she saw herself.

Small, fearful, wide eyed and brown haired clinging desperately to the edge looking up at her, arm outstretched towards her and Poppy felt frozen.

Help me

Poppy hesitated, she always did until the decision to help was taken from her in the form of a foot crashing down onto her doubles hand clinging to the edge.

And she could only watch as her double fell to the darkness below hand still outstretched to her, eyes shining with a plea. It was always the same.

A ghostly cold hand always bringing her sight up and away, but the image of herself falling was already burned into her.

Chin up dear, there's nothing for you there. You have no use for weaknesses.

So Poppy kept her head held high, lest the crown fall from her head. The small voice still calling out to her from below, even as she continued to climb. If she climbed high enough it would go away, like all the others wouldn't it?

Please Poppy, don't climb any higher. Don't go where I can't reach you

Poppy had always been afraid of heights. And watching her other self fall every single time brought a lingering fear of the inevitable, it was only a matter of time.

And it finally happened, she slipped.

Failure! Inadequate! How can you hope to be the legacy of the Sinclair name when she is clearly lesser than us.

Bea Hughes was supposed to be another chess piece, another face in a sea of others. A footnote to her rise, but she wasn't.

Not when she challenged her at every turn, not when she made Poppy rethink every decision she's ever made, not when she showed Poppy what it felt like to feel important to someone. And not when she told her she loved her in every possible way.

She was her downfall. Another world Poppy desperately wanted to be a part of, but ultimately not strong enough to hold onto.

"Are you afraid of falling?"

Poppy had pulled away from Bea then, the sudden question hitting to close to home.

They were doing fine, everything was perfect. She was at the top, Bea had fallen in line and agreed that they would keep their relationship a secret. They were in love, was that not enough?

Why was she doing this now

"You don't know what your talking about, Farmsville so I suggest you stop." Bea frowned, standing off to the side.

"Poppy, you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"You don't know anything about me Farmsville, know your place." Poppy held back the flinch at the hurt swimming in Bea's eyes.

"I thought that place was by your side, but I'm starting to think I was wrong." Poppy grit her teeth.

"Stop, you're only making this worse." Bea took a breath and her face set into a hard look.

"I can't do this anymore Poppy, I can't watch you do this over and over and for what? Fame? Fortune." Poppy felt her chest thump loudly, heart clenching at the look of defeat on Bea's face. A look so foreign to her.

"Stop, please. I love you." Bea laughed, a hollow sound that reverberated through Poppy's whole body.

"Maybe your only saying you love me because your lonely at the top." Tears sprung from Poppy's eyes as Bea moved away from her.

"Please Bea, don't do this." Bea gave her a sad smile, eyes reflecting a tiredness she hadn't realized until now was present.

"I loved you for a long time Pop and I’ll stand by you to whomever but I can’t make you fight yourself that’s your own fight. I can only love you, but I can’t make you love me. Not when you so clearly love your reputation more."

"No, no please." Poppy shook her head vehemently, clinging desperately onto Bea's shirt.

"If you can’t let go of the things that hurt you, don’t make it hard for me either just let me go."

A small tug was all it took to get her arm back as she turned and shut the door behind her leaving Poppy alone in silence before she fell to her knees.

Look at her. After everything she's done. I told you she would only cause you heartache, a distraction to our only goal.

Piers voice echoed in her mind, an apparition of him standing by her side face pulled into a sickly sneer.

Poppy's face was set in a blank look, as she watched Bea in the crowd of the bacchanalia, stationed at the wall not participating.

Piers ghostly apparition floated into her vision, blocking her from seeing Bea.

My dear girl, you have achieved everything your heart desires. Supremacy. Now it's time you use it. Make her pay for insulting our name. I assure you you'll feel happier.

But it didn't, she didn't feel the spark of power she usually did when the first tomato hit its mark. Or when the second hit making Bea cover her face as it got in her eyes. Or when the cacophony of laughter and insults drowned out Bea's voice calling out to her.

Poppy gripped this edge of the bannister as brown eyes looked up to her and she saw herself once again, brown haired, fearful hand outstretched towards her.

Save me

"Poppy help m-" Bea's voice was cut by another tomato smashing into the side of her head. Champagne tossed onto her tear streaked face.

This isn't what she wanted

But dear one, it is. You made it so. Your last minute change of Human Sacrifice brought about the celebration of the century, the death of those silly feelings you so uselessly harbor for this girl

A girl Poppy loved

Her fathers voice scoffed, venom coating his words.

Yes, loved. And look at what you've done to her. Do you really think she would forgive you now. Look at her.

Piers floated around her and Poppy glared straight ahead.

You did this

No my dear, this was entirely you. And you did it so well.

A cold chill ran through her, as Piers ghost disappeared like it was never there. It had always been her hadn't it. No amount of denial would ever change that, she couldn't blame the ghosts that plagued her. Because they were never real.

Poppy's hands shook and she steadied herself on the bannister as she realized just what she's done.

Bea's form covered head to toe in rotted food, unmoving and prone on the ground. Eyes looking up at Poppy, glazed and unfocused.

She did this. And now she had to live with the consequences.

Her brown haired apparition formed once again, hovering over Bea's downed form her back turned to Poppy as she spoke.

If there is one thing you should be scared of, it isn't falling Poppy. But the fact that no one will be there to catch you when you do

Then her apparition turned to her, but it wasn't her face anymore.

It was Bea's.

So tell me Poppy, who will catch you now?

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

I'm surprised not many people are bringing up the fact that C!Sam literally told C!Tommy that he let him die to C!Dream! Like, I better not see anyone saying that was an emotional outburst. Dream's "I don't give a f about Spirit," is an emotional outburst (most likely), Tommy's "The disks were worth more than you ever were," is an emotional outburst. What C!Sam said was an admission, it makes what he's allowing with C!Quackity a LOT less justifiable.

I mean, that’s always been Sam’s priorities. That’s what it’s always stated in the waivers since the very start. Every visitor goes in, Sam having full authority, acknowledging that if their life were at stake, then Sam would prioritize keeping Dream locked up rather than saving them.

I do think, watching that part over, that a lot of what Sam was saying was emotional and it was an outburst (saying that he’d not only kill Tommy but also his ghost in the same way that he said that about Dream when Quackity started encouraging his rage beyond rationality), but it was also a continuation of the descent we’ve seen Sam on since the start of this.

Of course he let Tommy die to Dream. His duties, which he is so insistent on binding himself to, are to keep Dream locked up even if it means letting someone die. Ironically, what he’s so convinced will keep the server safe has instead led to two people dying and him cutting his own ex’s ARM off, and Ponk didn’t even break into the prison! He just joked around about it! 

But Sam retaliates with a force far outweighing that of the offender, every time.  It’s Ponk’s canon life, Ponk’s arm just for stealing cards that don’t even work anymore. It’s threatening to destroy everything Sapnap has and will ever have for threatening Fran. It’s 1,000 deaths to Dream and his ghost, who may very well be a theoretically separate, innocent entity, for the single death he gave Tommy (”I will repay that injustice a thousand times over,” you could say). It’s threatening to kill Tommy for even stepping on the soil near the prison after this -- and Tommy’s someone you could argue he’s gone easy on compared to everyone else.

Sam is scared. He’s stressed. He lashes out and uses threats that escalate higher and higher in severity until they’re absolutely horrific to listen to, to give himself the authority he needs to keep control and do what he feels he needs to. Those threats, those words, are his desperate cling to power.

It’s that need for authority, for the respect of his position from others, the duty that he assigns himself to “protect the server,” that has led to this corruption.

[cammotea]

Reasons Why Relationships Should Never Be Your Top Priority

Many of us fixate on love out of fear. Fear of being alone. Fear of missing out. Fear of feeling worthless. We’re so eager to find a lifeboat to cling to. We waste time on mediocre, meaningless relationships instead of cultivating an abundant lifestyle to make ourselves happy.

A dating app isn’t the answer to your stress or helplessness. The sooner you internalize this concept, the quicker you stop relying on someone else to make or break your life. A partner will enhance your world, but they’re not your universe.

Relationships narrow your world

In the three years with my ex, I disconnected from all of my friends. My ambitions faded. The passion for traveling, meet people, and experience new things eventually became nonexistent. 

You probably know a friend you regularly hang out with who goes ghost-mode after meeting a boyfriend/girlfriend. They don’t seem interested in meeting up. They never have time for group activities anymore. All wrapped up with their romantic relationship. They’ve given up on the world to attend to their love life.

The comfort of a relationship leads to laziness, lack of adventure, and minimal curiosity. But a partner is supposed to add to your life, not reduce it. No matter how much you’re in love with someone, you shouldn’t compromise your own life. Set your eyesight higher than dating.

You need self-love more than romantic love

The less self-worth you have, the more you crave a partner. But by now, you have learned how unreliable it is to place our sense of self and happiness in a relationship. Yet, you continue to take the easier route. You swipe, scratch, crawl for someone to comfort you in low moments. How about you just take a step back? Because when you become emotionally sufficient, meaning you don’t need a relationship to feel okay about who you are, you’ll have enough patience to seek quality relationships as opposed to settling for anything you could get your hands on.

Feeling good about yourself is solely your responsibility. Relationships are merely a temporary escape. Sometimes, they benefit you less than the emotional and mental toll it takes on you. Once you figure out how to become emotionally independent, once you build your career/social circle/hobbies, a partner will become a portion of your life, not the top priority.

You have less leverage in a relationship

When your partner comes before all other aspects of your life, they likely aren’t thankful but entitled. You’re more afraid of losing them than they’re of losing you. Your power? Gone.

To keep your partner on their toes and have them appreciate what you offer to their life, let them know that you have plenty of things going on outside of the relationship. If at any moment they mistreat you, you’ll be ready to walk away. You’re playing with house money.

You can be a high-value person who deserves quality relationships. At the same time, understanding that romance is only a part of your life, not your entire life. The people who set relationships as their first priority seem desperate, codependent, and lacking self-esteem. You’re better than that.

[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- FIGHT AND FLIGHT

Remus wasn't fooled, he'd been watching over Harry's shoulder for just this. His eyes burned with every word that wasn't the fatal blow of Sirius' death, and still was just as much relieved they had another few moments to cling to that hope. He snapped forward and pried the book away from Harry, even as he tried to cling to it in protest.

"No, you guys shouldn't-"

"And you think you should?" Remus demanded as he matched Harry's glare. It felt like they were playing a real life version of Snape's task from so many days ago. Which was the deadly part of this? Who would it be, forced to say the words of what truly did their family in? Letting Harry get through it all by himself though would not be tolerated by a single one, and now surrounded on all sides as they all were, it would be the only chance they had to live through it.

Harry very reluctantly handed it over, and at once began pressing a trembling hand to his scar. Now he had nothing to occupy his hands, but knew their torturous pain of only having to listen as at any moment, the vision could overtake Harry again...

Harry had no clue if Hermione even had a plan as he followed just behind her and in front of Umbridge's wand. He didn't even dare ask her, for Umbridge was literally breathing on their necks.

Sirius still wished someone would offer speculation, a joke, anything! He kept hoping that somehow, any moment now, he'd drop in front of Harry with the magical story of his escape, he'd been the one to put Voldemort back in his place.

Hermione led them down past the Great Hall where the din of voices were chatting over dinner,

James made a little squeak noise. He could feel the time pressing into them in here, turning them more petrified by the second as they were forced to listen to this, and it had been even longer in Harry's time, how much longer did Sirius have!?

  it seemed incredible to him there were people twenty feet away just laughing about the exams being over without a real care in the world.

Lily had been shaking nonstop for quite some time, but that caused yet another tremor for a wholly other reason. If only her sacrifice had meant something more. She felt as if she'd only bought her son a spare few years, but he just kept suffering a life that no one should ever have to live through.

Hermione was walking swiftly out onto the grounds. Umbridge asked if it was in Hagrid's place?

Hermione scathingly said he'd have accidentally set it off.

"Play to her own idiocies," Remus muttered absently, his mind really not at all on this as he felt they were only getting further away from the help Sirius so needed. Hermione should have led her down to Snape's office, maybe he'd have done something useful for once in his life and stunned this troll bogie for them and then explained the plan of how to help Sirius!

Umbridge agreed at once, the half-breed oaf, then she laughed.

Harry had the urge to turn around and seize her by the throat, but resisted.

"I don't know how," Sirius said honestly.

His scar was still paining him through all this, but it did not yet burn white-hot as he knew it would for a kill.

Sirius wanted to shake off their concern again, but it was getting harder by the moment as his own chest restricted painfully. What he would give for Harry to never have known that pain, but he didn't seem able to find that hope as easily as his friends Harry would find some way out of this for him. After all, when Voldemort wanted you dead...and even James hadn't been able to fight him off...

Umbridge impatiently asked where it was, a touch of uncertainty in her for the first time as Hermione kept walking right towards the Forbidden Forest.

"Does she only just now wonder if she's being played?" Sirius tried desperately for that chipper tone at her idiocy, but it still came out more chilling as Harry shivered, he could still hear Sirius' screams of pain.

Hermione gestured in here of course, where students couldn't come across it. Umbridge was clearly more apprehensive now, but insisted they stay ahead of her.

Harry asked could they at least have her wand if they were going first.

"If she were that stupid, killing her would hold almost no fun," James said deadpan.

Umbridge said no at once, the Ministry put a higher value on her life than his.

"Which really goes to show the Ministry's priorities, oh, no wait, we already knew they respected dung more than anything," Lily muttered.

Harry tried to catch Hermione's eye again, trying to convey waltzing into the Forest unarmed may be the stupidest thing they'd done yet.

Remus suddenly had their attention far more than anything yet. The Marauders couldn't help it, if they'd been concocting some kind of plan, they'd have initiated it somewhere in here too, an area they honestly claimed to know better than even the castle. The intrigue finally brought them off of Sirius for even a second, what was Hermione up to?

She however took no notice of him, ploughing through the thickest bushes without care, and Umbridge's shorter legs were having trouble keeping pace.

Lily honestly wondered if that could be the plan, Umbridge certainly didn't know her way well enough, she could get lost.

After ripping her robes in bramble she demanded how far in it was.

Hermione said very, with confidence that Harry didn't have. Hermione wasn't on the path leading them to Grawp,

James lost any train of thought he might have cobbled together. If Hermione did have any idea in mind, it may well have been just that, in hopes Grawp would take care of their splinter and they could get back the real problem. Either she was lost or- he couldn't think past anything but wishing more than ever this future would never come.

but the one he followed three years ago to the lair of Aragog.

"Uhoh," Remus muttered, now convinced whatever plan she may have was now nonexistent and she was scrambling as desperately as them for a way out of this.

Harry tried to warn her of this, asking if she was sure they were going the right way, but she gave him the same steely answer and ignored him as she stepped with wholly unnecessary amounts of noise while Umbridge tripped right over a tree and fell. Neither of them paused to help her up.

"There's no way I'd consider you a person if you did," James stated.

Harry instead took her moment of distraction to hiss at Hermione to keep it down, but Hermione said she wanted to be heard.

That caught them all off guard, Harry blinking slowly as he tried to get his eyes to adjust to this. He still felt more than anything that feeling for what Sirius was going through, it was impossible to erase, but he could distantly recognize something new trying to trump that, some new fear coupled with something long overdue...

They kept going until the canopy overhead took away all light, and Harry had that feeling he was being watched by unseen eyes.

The boys had felt that way many times in the forest, and though it wasn't always a bad thing, it certainly wasn't something they wanted Harry to be experiencing right now! It was only another delay, another few lines they'd have to hear of Sirius not being safe.

The next time Umbridge demanded how much farther, she was cut off by an arrow thudding into a tree just above her head.

Lily startled so bad her wand was pointed at Remus before she'd even recognized the motion. Between Sirius a breath away from not having a future in that thing and now Harry being drug around the most dangerous place for him to be wandless, she was far past her wits end with anything else to do but curse the next thing that came too close.

Remus only paused for a moment to watch her before going back to reading, unable to concentrate long enough to even check if she stowed it away. Normally the sight would have terrified him from someone so genuinely formidable, especially her in this situation, but if she wanted to take this from him when he didn't have his answer for Sirius yet she'd have to try harder than that.

They were not alone, out of nowhere the sound of hooves surrounded them on all sides, and Umbridge kept Harry in front of her as if a human shield.

Sirius' face twisted in disgust, his hands still itching to crack her head in. His godson was trying to risk his life for him, and that soiled cat litter was using him to cover her own disgusting flesh!

Harry watched the binding in Remus' hands crack dangerously, they all flashed with murder again and he worried it would be far too long before they passed off of that. As pent up and stressed as they were for Sirius and now him, it seemed a miracle if Umbridge didn't enact another break away from this place more every line. Yet that same detached part of him pleasantly informed, while giving him another sock to his temple he had no need for with the rest of his pain, that hopefully something was going to come of this. Not good, that emotion was impossible to grasp right now, but something not bad.

He got himself free of her grasp just as the fifty centaurs came into view, bows drawn and all pointed at the three of them.

James made that noise again, and Sirius desperately put his arm around his best mate. It was the only thing holding him together now, realizing that Harry and Sirius truly were both in life threatening situations, and he couldn't do anything for either of them! This all somehow grew successively worse every single day, he was literally being torn in two for his family. There was no sign of his ghost coming back this time to offer anyone anything!

They remained very still as they were surrounded, Harry ignoring Umbridge's little whimpers of terror and instead spotting Hermione's triumphant smile.

"This was her plan!" Lily shrieked, and Remus actually did recoil in fear from her now, from this life somehow Harry survived and honestly none of them had a clue how at this point. "To make the centaurs angry!"

"I, can actually see this one, a bit," Sirius whispered, his eyes still too wide but certainly there was something in his voice now holding to that. "She knows exactly how Umbridge is going to treat these guys, and they're going to go ballistic, maybe kill her if we're lucky. Yet those two are still young, innocent the centaurs have said themselves, so if they play this right, they'll walk right back out of there without her."

"I, well yes but she-" Lily still failed to truly put her heart into this even if she could see the logic. She was sick with worry for one of her boys already, but in all fairness it's not like she'd come up with an alternative, she was still reeling from what was going on with Sirius. Hermione's level headedness may be their saving grace as she tried to wave Remus on without full blown panicking.

Magorian stepped forward, and Umbridge pointed her trembling wand at him.

Remus scoffed low in his throat in disgust, easily imagining such a pathetic response from something able to fight back against her. A braver person than her would have cowed in front of a herd of angry centaurs, but after all she'd done to Harry and too many innocent children, whatever happened to her next because of this would be so sweetly deserved even Umbridge's voice couldn't manage it.

Umbridge declared herself as Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Headmistress, and High Inquisitor of Hogwarts.

"She is no such thing!" Sirius vowed, he'd never view her as anything more than a lower life form than the mice Mrs. Norris spat out for not being edible enough.

Magorian was not impressed by her Ministry status.

Umbridge was though, trying to steady her voice as she recited their laws that under the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, an attack by half-breeds such as them on a human-

"Now she's done it," James said distantly, though he'd never been less invested in Umbridge in his life. If this had been going on any other time than when Sirius needed him...

Hermione told her not to call them that, but it went unheard as many centaurs around them roared in outrage for the slur.

"Trying to distance herself, a very good idea right now," Remus muttered, his fingers tapping restlessly against the book as he still recognized how dangerous this was for Harry. Just being a human in her presence right now was a danger, no matter their age.

Umbridge cared nothing, still going on loudly that they fell under the category of near- human intelligence-

"That's right, keep insulting them," Sirius never thought he would be encouraging Umbridge to do anything, but this was a better distraction from his own problem than he ever would have hoped to ask for. "I've always wanted to hear of dismemberment by centaurs."

but even her voice failed as Magorian shouted they considered that a great insult, their intelligence far outsripped hers!

A grey centaur demanded what she was doing in their Forest?

Umbridge was now shaking with as much fright as indignation.

"I never would have thought she could really be this dense," Lily hissed. As foul as they'd all found her, they never would have thought she'd be this stupid. Even the lowest life form must realize by now who was the dominant one in this environment.

She reminded them they only lived here because the Ministry permitted it.

"Dead." James said flatly, every single part of him praying that was the only death of this one.

An arrow flew so close to her it caught a few strands of her hair before again leveling out in a tree, now with a wild neigh echoing from all sides that left Harry unnerved.

"Now I know where your mind still is if unnerving is all you're getting from this," Remus shifted uneasily, still all to fearful Harry and Hermione would be caught in the crossfire any second, and yet hardly wanting to flip back any moment and hear of what Voldemort was doing to Sirius. This was a true torture in itself.

Umbridge shrieked at them, then shot the spell Incarcerous at the nearest one.

"Oh no, I was wrong," James conceded. "Now she's dead."

"And here we are, not even able to enjoy it," Remus muttered, his hand always on the next page, never wanting to keep going until the precious words arrived Sirius had escaped.

Ropes flew from her wand and encircled him, she'd gone too far. The centaurs rushed her in a rage, Harry recognizing Bane to be the one to lift her right off the ground with one arm and lear at her. Umbridge's wand fell, and Harry's heart gave a tiny leap of hope as he reached for it, but a hoof smashed it in half.

"Honestly I don't think it was worth it," Sirius grumbled in disgust. Harry would get his wand back, no need to degrade himself into using that tarnished wood once used by a frog thicker than any pondscum.

She was dragged away kicking and screaming, her pleas meaning nothing as she vanished into the distant forest.

Remus vaguely recalled a few myths he'd heard of what centaurus did when they really wanted you dead, and honestly if even a portion of them were true he'd have felt genuine fear under any other circumstances, but now he was just wishing this had all been done in the beginning to her.

Harry rubbed at his scar, not on his forehead, but the back of his hand, his eyes actually burning hatefully for someone other than Voldemort or himself for just a moment. Umbridge's screams and pleas for help had meant nothing to him then or now.

"Was she really begging you to actually help her?" James honestly couldn't believe that one, even the Dursley's wouldn't really be so stupid!

"Yes," Harry said, his right hand clenched into a hard fist, "but I didn't bother of course, after all, I must not tell lies."*

Sirius grinned crazily at Harry, patting his knee with far too much enthusiasm for this. It all fit together rather well in his mind, he'd take on Voldemort all over again if he could get these set of circumstances to happen to Umbridge any day, they couldn't have set up a better revenge if they'd tried!

The others did not agree, but none could deny either they weren't just a bit grimly pleased something had been worth it in all this mayhem and heartbreak, though it would mean nothing if the one most important to them didn't make it through.

Screaming non-stop, her voice grew fainter and fainter until it could no longer be heard over the trampling of hooves still surrounding them.

"Not good," Lily hissed, chanting that under her breath now as she removed her nails from James and let them dig into her own palm instead, the fear twisting her innards relieving nothing. She couldn't erase the idea Harry was still in the middle of all this.

James reached over and put her hands right back inside his, the only thing stilling the shaking, he didn't care the little pinpricks of her fear pushing into him instead, it was yet another reminder, a way to distance himself from seeing this happening to Harry on one level and still seeing Sirius just beyond that in a position he'd die before allowing himself to stay in at Voldemort's feet.

Harry was yanked by another centaur grabbing the back of his neck, the centaurs now demanding what should be done with them.

One pointed out they did not hurt foals, but another reminded they'd been the ones to bring her here.

"Shit!" Lily yelped, startling in place all over again. The centaurs had been watching the whole time, they knew Hermione's hadn't been a complete ruse!

"This could still work in their favor," Remus tried desperately to placate. "She had them at wand point this whole time, if they play this right they could pin it all on Umbridge forcing them to go in there."

The one holding Harry even pointed out they weren't so young, this one was nearing manhood with a hard shake to Harry.

"There's a compliment somewhere in there," James managed softly as he watched his son, his own age, that sting always present in the back of his mind he'd never truly seen him grow up, that these centaurs had seen his son at more stages of his life than he had.

Hermione pleaded they were nothing like her, they didn't care for the Ministry, they'd only come in here so they could drive her off.

"Gah, she was doing so good for a moment!" Remus found a new shade of pale all his own in fear for that line.

"How did she manage to say the worst possible thing," Sirius groaned miserably, now realizing their earlier fears had been preemptive, Hermione may have earned herself a death sentence along with Umbridge for that one alone.

Harry at once knew she'd said the wrong thing, as the one holding her stamped his feet in fury, telling Ronan they were no better than the rest of their kind with their arrogance!

"Don't ever let them meet Sirius or they'll know that's true." Lily tried to say that in her normal voice she always spoke to him with, it was easier on her heart for just a second to look him in the eyes and as always give a poke at him.

Sirius responded as always, flashing her a grin, but it was still lost on the others, as Lily only managed to remind them they'd give anything for Sirius to be in this with Harry rather than where he was.

Demanding of her she just expected them to do their work like obedient ponies?

Hermione pleaded she'd only been hoping they'd help, but she was going from bad to worse.

"I fear we've reached past the point where words help," James managed to get out, no longer able to support his own weight and would have long since fallen over if he wasn't already down. He could feel he was about to be reduced to tears any moment now, because even looking at Harry and knowing he made it out alive, he still hadn't stopped rubbing his scar this whole time. This still wasn't the biggest fear of his night, and there was only one thing worse than fearing for Hermione's life right now.

The centaur holding Harry reared up in outrage, actually taking Harry's feet off the ground for a moment as he shouted in anger they would not permit these ones to leave, boasting about the centaurs doing their bidding!

Sirius hadn't thought it possible to be more frightened for Harry than he was moments ago, still knowing his pup could slip back into Voldemort's mind any moment when this fight between them ended, but somehow he'd certainly found a way to go past that into another level of fear. What did those centaurs do to him before someone came along to the rescue!

It seemed decided they'd join the woman!

Lily retched, one hand finally leaving her husbands now to tangle with Harry's as well, fingers twisted so tight nothing could have pulled them from her.

Centaurs were an ancient race who would not let this stand, they were superior, they-

Whatever else they were went unheard.

James spluttered something that might have been relief for this finally being cut off, though this only meant his worry for Sirius went right back up to the top now that Harry was free. 

Suddenly the two were dropped, all hands back on weapons as a new rumbling shook the forest.

"A proper warrior," Remus muttered without surprise, the centaurs were clearly trained to recognize threat over arrogance, something Umbridge was now being taught.

Harry hurried so he was crouched over Hermione protectively as Grawp poked his face in.

"You said what now?" Sirius squeaked.

"I-" Remus' voice failed as he couldn't repeat that one. According to Harry they hadn't been anywhere near where Grawp was tied up, so how was he, why...

Harry grew impatient with their surprise even as he felt his own pitiful relief for the save he didn't feel he deserved. He was almost angry for the rescue, like he knew he'd deserved to stay in that forest and the centaurs punishment would still be better than the rest of this memory. He couldn't just let himself sit around with that or he'd explode, but Harry's trying to keep going only spurred Remus back into fully grasping this. He certainly hadn't forgotten as his knee stayed tight pressed to Sirius, that stupid annoying voice of his always near the back of his ear, and he filed whatever emotions he had for anything else away for later.

He gazed down, unimpressed at the herd as his dull eyes traveled over them as if searching for something he'd dropped, there were broken ropes trailing his ankles.

Sirius was still making some noise with his throat like he was trying to attempt speech. They'd hardly forgotten about Grawp, but this never would have crossed anyone's mind! How had he even gotten loose? A giant was actually walking freely around their forest! He could no longer decide if it was fear, or indignation keeping him listening.

Clearly not finding what he was looking for, he said Hagger.

Remus couldn't help but falter from surprise again. He didn't know any words in Giant, but he honestly didn't feel that's what Grawp wanted either, that didn't exactly sound like he was asking for directions back to his mountain now he'd gotten himself free.

The centaurs remained tight in their fighting stance as Grawp repeated this with insistence.

Lily covered her mouth in surprise, wondering at that all of a sudden, and how he hadn't been able to say Hermione's name quite right either, but surely he wouldn't...

Grawp stooped, looking more closely than ever, still saying Hagger.

Hermione gasped as she whispered to Harry he was trying to say Hagrid.

"But, why would he?" James demanded, feeling woozy from too many things going on, and now he could add his son being crushed by a giant again to that list even if it was by accident.

"I think he actually grew to care for Hagrid," Lily hummed, so constantly near tears of late from her eyes constantly flickering to Sirius this almost set her off again.

"I, wow, I did not see that coming," Remus muttered, though admittedly touched for Hagrid, imagining the big guys face if he'd seen his brother now.

Grawp spotted them among the sea of colors, and rumbled Hermy in recognition.

"Now we know Hermione was right," Sirius blinked spastically, though a laugh was still too far gone for him.

"Bless Hagrid," Lily said with a hard catch in her throat, she couldn't imagine what would have happened to her Hare Bear if their game keeper wasn't the way he was.

Hermione shook in surprise as Grawp demanded where Hagger was.

"We all want Hagrid back," Harry muttered, he'd actually stopped rubbing at his head for a moment to gaze at the book with longing before turning wretched eyes to Sirius. There were a lot of things in his life he wished he'd had back, Grawp should consider himself lucky Hagrid really was just, inconvenienced right now.

Unsatisfied with her lack of answer, Grawp's hand reached out for Hermione, and Harry tensed ready for a fight, prepared to bite, kick or do anything he could to keep him off of her.

They all twitched with unease, that fight or flight instinct wanting to kick in here more every moment, none were crazy enough to think they could fight off a giant. Even with the confidence now Grawp wouldn't really do them harm, it was not a pleasant thing to be thinking of Harry so casually tossed over Group's shoulders when he realized he'd caught the wrong person.

He didn't get that far, he'd shoved a centaur right off it's feet and batted him away trying to reach for her, and this was what they'd been waiting on, as fifty arrows were shot right into Grawps face.

Lily gasped, the urge to vomit becoming more every moment. Now she could easily imagine this horrific scene, and both sides so furious, and their son still caught in the middle of it all.

Grawp roared, bringing his hands up to take the shafts out, but only digging the points in deeper. He began thundering around chasing the centaurs, who all scattered and fled.

Harry and Hermione were left, shaking with fright as Hermione whispered if he'd kill them all.

Harry said he wouldn't be too fussed if so.

"I, can not, believe that just happened," Sirius shook his head slowly. How did Harry's life keep getting crazier by the hour!? They still hadn't even gotten to the part where Harry was going to go kamikaze up to the Ministry for him!

He was not paying attention to anything around him anymore, as his scar gave another twinge of pain and a thrill of terror possessed him as he realized how much time they'd wasted.

James wasn't sure how many times his heart could stop beating before he keeled over, but he was sure he was close by now. He could feel that time too, like Sirius' heartbeats were even now being numbered!

They were even further than before from rescuing Sirius, and Harry turned with fury on Hermione for this, demanding what now?

"Ah Harry, don't take it out on her," Sirius said. He felt so faint, getting a first hand account of his own death, not able to tell Harry for one moment what he was doing was wrong for trying to stop it, but at the same time there was almost a relief, a calmness in him Harry had never put himself in danger for his sake, again.

"Thought that was my line," Harry muttered, his eyes still holding a dead look that continued to horrify them more than anything, as if nothing he'd yet done had even made a difference, Sirius' fate was already sealed. They couldn't believe that though, they wouldn't!

Hermione reminded they'd go back to the castle, and Harry shouted at her by the time they managed that Sirius would already be dead, kicking at a tree in temper.

Remus felt a hollow laugh, watching that reaction alone, afraid to look at Harry and see his eyes again. If that was the worst reaction Harry had, this whole ordeal really could be bearable, please let that be the worst thing Harry do!

Hermione insisted it was the only thing, they couldn't do anything without their wands and they still didn't have a way to get to the Ministry.

A voice behind them agreed they'd just been wondering that. They turned to find their friends they'd left in Umbridge's office coming towards them, all looking worse for wear as if having been in a fight, but also looking quite pleased with themselves.

"Well, at least someone's been productive," Harry seethed hatefully, never having felt more useless in his life than he did in this moment, still wishing he'd chased Grawp down or those centaurs. He couldn't understand where his mind was coming from with this, it just couldn't be true there really was no out for Sirius, he must be misunderstanding something!

Harry asked how they'd gotten away, and Ron explained they'd all let off some stunners at once, a disarming charm on one, and Neville did quite the Impedimenta jinx. Ginny's was the best, she did a Bat Bogey Hex on Malfoy, he was still covered with the things when they'd left.

There was some long lost part of James he couldn't find right now where he and his friends should have been laughing at that, congratulating little Ginny and how far she'd come.

"I think Harry more meant how'd they got their wands back," Sirius said, clearly finding this the most interesting thing to think about right now no matter how much anyone else disagreed.

"I'm wondering if it was Luna," Lily offered, still fighting off the urge to keep screaming now that the kids were back to just trying to figure out what to do, at least before they'd felt the movement! "Her complacency, could have caused a sneak attack, got their wands away to start this."

"Prongs, I really can see why you fell for such a devious woman, concocting that idea. I'm sorry I didn't appreciate that more in school." Sirius told him pleasantly.

James shook his head from side to side with that tight feeling still restricting his heart from truly smiling back, but Sirius could always drag him back to this world no matter how lost in thought he'd get. "Guess I should be rather glad, don't need you pining after her as well, she had enough blokes doing that."

Lily swatted them both good naturedly while Sirius rolled his eyes.

Ron concluded they'd seen them heading into the Forest from the office so they'd followed.

"And they just managed to find them in that great big-"

"Shh," Lily shushed Sirius before he could interrupt again, she was going to go ballistic if she didn't hear of Harry on the move soon, they could feel now more than ever Sirius was running out of whatever time he had.

Ron asked what they'd done with Umbridge, and Harry briefly explained the centaurs and Grawp. Luna asked who Grawp was, and Ron informed Hagrid's little brother.

"Great, now we're all caught up!" James said through gritted teeth, this had been the longest hour of his life, and he never would have thought anything could trump the moment Peter had betrayed him, and he'd never hoped something else would!

Harry testily cut in Sirius was still alive for now, but they had to come up with a solution before that changed. They all fell silent, all clearly growing scared of this insurmountable problem.

"Go back to the school!" Remus seemed aghast that wasn't Harry's first thought. "Make damn sure Snape got the message! Hell, Umbridge's fireplace is open now! Go back and use that!" He stopped quickly though, as his practically shouting these things was doing nothing but making Harry more miserable by the second. They could all feel how much he was blaming himself for this, and Remus would never want to feel as if he were making that worse. He honestly believed he wouldn't have been any more clear headed in the moment, more than likely standing around and panicking just like Harry in trying to understand what he could do to help, so he just kept himself going, any answer would be better than watching the poor kid beat himself up over this.

Luna said they'd fly as if that were the most obvious thing in the world.

'Oh yes, running off to get brooms is the most logical thing,' Remus couldn't help that mocking thought which he firmly kept to himself as it was no more helpful than last time, he just wanted to be on the move already even with his Padfoot right here by his side.

Harry irritably said that was no help, Ron was the only one who had a broom that wasn't being guarded. Ginny pointed out she had one-

Harry corrected that wasn't the point, she was too-

Ginny said fiercely she was three years older than him when he'd first faced Voldemort.

"She's got you there though," Sirius managed a real chuckle.

"She's going to get herself killed!" Harry hissed, somehow his panic climbing even worse than before and he hadn't thought that was possible, but now the reality his friends were in danger  really was pushing him farther than ever. His temple gave an extra hard throb, he could feel that pain and panic climbing every second, soon he wouldn't be able to tell past from present and he'd go darting out of this place himself to go rescue a Sirius right next to him.

Neville jumped in to remind they'd been in the DA to fight Voldemort, or had that all been some game?

"I think Neville really deserves something there," Lily said softly as she watched Harry bury his face in his hands with resignation. "He has the least understanding of what's going on, he doesn't even know who Sirius is. Even if he has put the name to the one in the papers, that makes this all the more unbelievable of the lad."

"Yeah, great, he's a bloody saint," Harry got out around a tight throat, pushing his glasses off his face for a moment to rub at bloodshot eyes, but quickly fixing that so he would never have to stop looking at Sirius for a moment longer than he had to. His mother was right, they all were, he was more grateful and longing in his life for the worst moment in his life just for those friends he no longer had at his side even with his family he had now.

Harry exchanged a look with Ron, both thinking the same. If they'd been able to pick members from the DA, it would not have been these three.

"Who would you have picked?" Sirius scrutinized that one oddly. "Cho? Zacharia? Collin? I never heard better options than the ones you've got."

"They're the ones asking to be there," James agreed, blinking fast to try and push that cursed vision from Harry's mind out of his for just one moment, it wasn't working.

Harry was still trembling worse than ever, wanting to go and save Sirius already, but now feeling as if he understood that anger at himself, if any of his friends got hurt because they'd gone with him...

Harry said through gritted teeth none of this mattered as they still didn't have a way to get there, though Luna cut in to simply again remind they were going to fly.

"She can keep saying that all she likes, it doesn't mean an Occarumpent is going to appear!" Remus ground out.

He hardly noticed the odd looks he was being given and jerked his head back up to glare at Sirius as he interrupted to ask what that even was.

"An occamy and an erumpent, keep up Sirius."

Sirius raised his hands in surrender, he hadn't been expecting Moony to be mocking Luna's weird creature ideas right now.

Ron said it must be nice if she could sprout wings at will, but none of them did!

Luna reminded there were other ways to fly, and Ron demanded if she was going to summon a Kacky Snorgle to her?

Luna corrected Crumple-Horned Snorkacks couldn't fly,

"Yes, because that was the part she caught on," Remus rolled his eyes heavily, feeling the pressure more than anyone he'd wasted all of his breath on things that weren't getting Sirius away from danger.

but they could, and Hagrid had said they were very good at finding places.

Harry turned to see Luna gesturing at two Thestrals looking on at them curiously from the shadows.

"Oh," they all muttered in genuine surprise. Only one of their members had been able to see those things in their day, and for the first time they wondered how often he'd seen those in the Forest without even mentioning it to them. This still held nothing to their honest thought this was the most ridiculous and long winded way Harry could use to get there! Yet berating him over it would do nothing but make them all feel even worse, they just wished someone other than Luna had offered up an idea, which was more than likely where Moony's ire with her currently was.

Harry went towards them at once with glee, and he watched them toss their reptilian heads wondering how he'd ever found them ugly.

"You can still find things ugly and useful," Lily said primly with a sideways look at Sirius, who openly ignored that one, there were some things even he wouldn't joke about, and now wasn't the time for those kinds of jokes on her part.

Ron was looking slightly to the left of where the Thestral now was, confirming it was those mad horse things you couldn't see unless you'd seen someone snuff it.

"Lest Ron's as lovely as ever," Lily muttered, more for herself that time as Sirius' eyes did brighten with humor at that one.

Hermione asked how many there were, and when he said two, she said they needed at least three.

"She could just ride on the back of one of the boys, they're tough things," James grumped, if this was how they were going to travel, he wanted this to be done with!

Luna corrected six, and Harry snapped fine, but unless they found more Thestrals this was still-

Ginny pointed out more would come, squinting more above where the Thestral was,

"Credit for trying?" Remus said snippily, well aware he was clutching the last page of his chapter and only more problems had been added to this already paralyzing situation!

as Harry and Hermione were still covered in droplets of Grawp's blood from when he'd been shot in the face, the two reeked of it and that's probably what had drawn these here in the first place.

"Why does Ginny know that?" Sirius muttered in surprise, she wouldn't have had this lesson yet.

"Luna clearly knows a lot about them, maybe she's had a chat with Hagrid about them and told Ginny about them," James forced himself to look Sirius in the face as the two sat around and just discussed something for a moment, even though both faces were more sickly pale than any full moon had ever done to them. They should have had the most practice worrying about their friends, and yet nothing could prepare them for what this all felt like.

Harry tried to seize the idea he and Ron would go ahead then, and Hermione could stay back to attract more- but Hermione protested this at once, and Luna said it wasn't necessary as she spotted six more arriving, noting they must really stink.

"No more picking on her either Moony, I like her," Sirius muttered, an actual smile trying to twist away his grimace for his situation for the girls bluntness.

"Well that seems to leave only you, I'm sure I'll have plenty more to complain of," Remus huffed.

Harry snapped fine, time to get on then.

Remus gave a tense sigh, somehow his hands fisting harder than ever as he eyed Lily who was now watching him expectantly. Another one down, and it hadn't happened yet. Maybe, if they just kept getting through more of these, it wouldn't at all...

HPHPHPHP

*No one should deny movie Harry's zinger really was brilliant and I regret nothing putting it in here.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Walk Me Home - Ch 3

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension. 

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 3422

Author’s Note: Mega thanks to @mskathywriteswords​ , @fangirlxwritesx67​, and @cracksinthewalls​ for editing, revision, flailing, and generally knocking sense into me when I’m being stubborn. You all made this story way better than it started it, and I love you. Thanks to everyone who read/reblogged/liked the first chapter. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do. 

@thoughtslikeaminefield​ , babe, I love you, and I love this story so much.

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY. 

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 | Ch 2 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 3

“Breathe, sweetheart, take a deep breath and hold it. Watch me, follow my breathing.” Dean’s hands, warm and solid against her clammy skin, hold her face so she has no choice but to look right at him. 

His eyes pierce the haze of fear that locks her lungs, and she pulls in her first shaking breath since she spotted the doll. She must have screamed, because one moment she was alone with the damned thing, and the next he was by her side, pulling her out of the room.

“Come with me, we’re getting out of here. Right now.” In a habit that miraculously stayed with her since she first knew him, Kimber stumbles after Dean, her fingers clutching his with a level of desperation that would leave her shamed if she had the thought capacity to care right now.

They’re out the front door, in his car, and speeding away before she even realizes he’s on the phone. 

“Yeah, Sam, I saw the doll on her bed. Front door was definitely locked when we got there, but I didn’t get a chance to check the windows or back door. She’s talked to the cops before this, they didn’t do shit then, but maybe now that the bastard actually went in her house. I’m taking her back to the motel.” 

He’s silent for a long moment, listening intently, his lips pressed thin and tense. Her face is wet, and she realizes she’s crying. She takes a moment to wipe away the tears streaming from her eyes, discreetly clearing her throat. She has a strange, disconnected moment of panic when she realizes she left her purse in the house and the door unlocked, but she shoves the words back down her throat so fast she nearly chokes.

That horrible...thing...on her bed, and she’s worried about her purse?!

Priorities, Kimber, she scolds herself. Dean is talking when she comes back to the moment, and she catches him mid-sentence.

“-agree with Kimber, I think it’s probably a witch. Gonna check for hex bags, ask her about anybody that might have a motive. We’ll go over her house when you get here, but I’m gonna try to keep her out of sight in the meantime. Don’t have a tail, but I’ll keep an eye on the way to the motel. See ya in the morning.”

He hangs up, eyes flicking over to Kimber then back to the road.

“How you holdin’ up?” The genuine concern in his voice breaks through the worst of her panic, giving her something other than her growing dread to focus on.

“I...I’ve been better. I mean, I know that nothing actually happened, but...Dean, I-”

“Oh, no, I totally get it,” he says, his eyebrows rising high on his forehead. “Fucking dolls, I hate ‘em. That creepy shit absolutely ain’t right. Anyway, we had no idea if someone was still at your place. Better to high-tail it, regroup, and plan than get stuck in a shootout with somethin’ that might not even go down with a bullet or five in it. You heard me talkin’ to Sam?”

She nods, doing her best to hide her sniffling. Without a word, he opens the glove box, pulls out a napkin, and hands it to her. She takes it gratefully, failing in her attempt to discreetly blow her nose while boxed into a moving vehicle.

“Thanks. The thing is, though, as far as I know, nobody has a motive to want to hurt me.”

This time he only lifts one eyebrow. “You, a college professor in a highly specialized academic area that’s typically full of eccentrics at best and nutbags at worst, have no students with chips on their shoulders? No jealous colleagues? Never forgot to tip the barista or leave a Christmas bonus for the janitors? Really?”

Her face heats up. She’s thinking like a scared kid, and she should know better. She may not be a hunter, but she knows the lore, knows the signs, and she really should know better.

“Okay, you’re right, you’re right. I’m not thinking clearly. Just...gimme a sec to get my head on straight.” 

She sucks in a sharp, deep breath through her nose, focusing on a droplet of water that’s sliding down her window. She presses air slowly from her lungs, watching the drop gain speed as it joins with more water dotting the outside of the glass, repeating the process until the raindrop slips off the window and her thoughts are focused again.

“I haven’t actually had to fail anyone in my classes lately, but I suppose someone could have held a grudge from previous semesters or just not been satisfied with a lower passing grade. As far as I know, no one in the department is jealous of my position. I’m not really anything special, literally just a glorified storyteller. I’m not on any boards or committees, I haven’t received any awards in a few semesters. No particular nutbags lately, but…”

She frowns as he pulls the car into a motel parking lot. Something is tugging at the back of her mind, an almost non-incident from a few Thursdays ago. She’d dismissed the conversation as random but harmless, but even the smallest details could be life or death. She’s been shown this over and over in her dealings with hunters. It’s about time she learned from other people’s mistakes.

“There was something, a few weeks ago, but I can’t quite remember,” she says, frustrated at how inadequate her memory is proving at the moment. The vestiges of panic still cling to the edges of her mind, leaving her thoughts scrambled and disjointed. 

“Think on it. Let’s get checked in, get somethin’ to eat, and you can tell me then,” Dean offers. 

She smiles her appreciation at the reprieve and climbs out of the car to follow Dean into the motel office. She uses the time Dean spends, first talking and then arguing with the clerk, to jog her memory, trying to recall everything she can about her encounter at the end of a self-defense class the previous month. 

It had seemed so harmless at the time, and nothing odd happened afterwards. At least, not that night. But as she stands next to Dean, straining her memory, she realizes Helen’s accident was just two days later. Her unseen watcher trailed her for the first time a week after Helen’s fall. Then Professor Lawrence a few days after that, and just last week Allen and the stapler.

She feels the heat of shame flooding her face. She’s a researcher by profession. How did she never put the pattern together? People have been hurt, nearly died, because she was too stupid to connect some dots? 

“I connect dots for a goddamn living,” she mutters to herself, earning her an odd glance from Dean. He turns back to the clerk, who shrugs.

“Take it or leave, sir.”

“Fine,” Dean growls, shoving a credit card at the man. Five minutes later, Dean unlocks the door to a room with two queen-size beds whose decor calls strongly back to a decade long past and best forgotten.

“I think they decorated this place before we were born,” she murmurs, earning her a tired smile from Dean. “At least it’s clean?”

He nods, tossing his bag on the bed nearest the window. “Sorry we have to share, they’re full up. Some sort of convention in town?” 

She hesitates, her stomach fluttering uneasily at the thought of a wall between her and Dean. “I don’t mind. I think...maybe it’s safer this way, in one room. I would offer to get dinner, since you paid for the room, but…” She trails off, empty hands spread at her sides. 

“Not a problem,” he says, dropping down on the bed and reaching for the phone. “Know anywhere good that delivers?”

 Forty minutes and two cheeseburger combos later, Dean lifts her reprieve and presses her for information again. The food helped ground Kimber’s jittery brain, and she’s thinking clearly for the first time since she spotted the doll.

“A few weeks ago, after self-defense class concluded, a guy came up to me. I’d never noticed him before, I thought he was new, but he said he’d seen me a few times and wanted to know if i would go get coffee with him. I wouldn’t have said yes, regardless, because...I mean, picking up dates at a self-defense class? Feels kinda predatory.”

Dean nods, lips pursed as he listens. He’s stretched out on his bed while she’s opted to sit in one of the two chairs by the table a few feet away. Kimber scrubs her face with her hands before running them back through her hair. 

“I just...I got this weird vibe off him, though, Dean. He may have found me attractive, I don’t know, but I seriously doubt it. He didn’t really want to ask me out. I have no clue why he asked; I could tell he wasn’t into me. He wouldn’t meet my eyes, his face was kind of stoney the whole time? Almost like someone put him up to it even though he really didn’t want to?”

Dean frowns, just as perplexed as she is.

She sighs, resting her chin in her palms and elbows on her knees. “I know. He was acting just a little too off. On top of that, I didn’t know him at all, so I turned him down. I wasn’t rude, at least I don’t think I was. He just accepted it, though; he didn’t push or even look upset. He didn’t really look anything at all. He just left. I didn’t see him in class again after that, and, honestly, I’m certain I had never seen him before.”

Dean rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t...I mean, yeah, maybe. A strong maybe,” he conceded. “But we need more information. Even if that guy is our perp, we need to find out more about what’s actually going on. Sam can help me look over your place tomorrow; you and I can search your office. We should check out the other accident scenes. Did anyone else in your class see the guy or talk to him?”

“Maybe the teacher?” Kimber offers, stifling a yawn. She’s weary to the bone and suspects she may still be feeling the after-effects of shock. She stands, intending to hit the shower in the bathroom, when she remembers just how quickly they had to leave her house.

“Um...Dean, I didn’t get to...we left my place so quickly. Do you have anything to wear that I could...borrow?” She doesn’t mean to sound so hesitant and vulnerable, but her emotional filter is fading with her energy, and she doesn’t have it in her to put up a tough front.

His eyes widen, and he jumps up from the bed to rifle through his sports bag. He reaches out, holding what looks like a white t-shirt and pajama pants. She takes a step towards him to accept them just as he moves over to meet her, and they both stop just shy of a full-body collision.

His fingers brush her skin as she accepts the clothes, and she’s annoyed at how her hands tremble from the brief touch. Her eyes flick up to find him watching her, his color high and lips parted. His hands close more solidly around hers, fingers rough and welcome against her wrists. Her pulse quickens, and that cold spot near her heart ratchets up a couple more degrees. 

His pupils dilate in response, black circles swallowing the mossy irises. Dean’s tongue flashes over his lower lip as he swallows convulsively, and her eyes track the movement. She wonders for the span of a single breath if he still tastes the way she remembers. It would be so easy to find out; just step in, drop the clothes.

All she has to do, really, is reach out.

…

Her fingers paused halfway between them, hesitating. He glanced up from his plate of pie, eyeing her curiously. Feeling suddenly, deliciously brave, she brushed her thumb over his lower lip, swiping a bit of whipped cream he’d unknowingly smeared there. She sucked her thumb for just a moment, self-consciously looking away as her cheeks blazed red. 

She’d never been so forward before, brazen even, and while she was proud of her courage, she was still shocked she’d had such nerve. She risked a peek at him across the table just in time to see him flick his own tongue over the exact spot her thumb had just been. He caught his lower lip under his teeth, grinning at her, somehow looking just as flushed and off-balance as she felt.

“You, uh...taste good,” he murmured, eyes shining. She couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up at his sweet, simple sincerity. 

“You do, too.”

They had finished tutoring early, and it was only their second week. Dean was keeping up just fine in class, so she was more than happy to accept his invitation for a snack at the nearby diner. The day was pretty warm for mid-September, and they were technically still supposed to be at the library, so she asked if he’d like to maybe take a walk and talk some more.

“You’re just using me for my stories,” he said with a mock pout as they strolled down the sidewalk. “Is that all I am to you? A source of entertainment?”

“Dean, you’re the best show on. I wouldn’t even skip the reruns.” She felt so light around him, so comfortable and giddy all at once, like he was sucking the oxygen from her atmosphere while giving it right back to her all at once.

Just when she felt like her chest might burst holding all this inside, she reached out and linked her fingers through his. She felt a slight falter in his stride (or maybe she imagined it), and they walked on. She asked him about his family. He told her less about his Dad, more about his little brother, and nothing about his mom, but mostly he asked questions.

What did she like to read? Where was the best pie in town, because that place was not it. Where did she have her favorite birthday party growing up? What did she want to do when she graduated? Favorite family vacation? Favorite holiday? Was it as awesome being an only child as it seemed, or were there actually drawbacks he didn’t know about? What did she really think of his jacket, be honest?

Eventually, they found themselves back at her house, not quite time for her to be home yet. She was reluctant to say good-bye, and if his grip on her hand was any indication, so was he.

“I know!” she said suddenly. She tugged his arm, leading the way around her house and into the backyard. Neither of her parents were home from work, so she didn’t have to worry about their well-meaning interrogation as to why she was dragging the new boy around by the arm.

“Ta-da!” She spread her arms wide, grinning as she indicated the treehouse she and her dad had built together only a few years earlier. “Best craftsmanship, all the comforts of home, minus electricity, heat, air conditioning, and plumbing!”

“You mean it’ll hold us both, and there's some pillows and blankets up there?” He laughed, his grin growing as she glowed back at him. 

“You get me so well!” she squealed, grabbing his hand and tugging him forward again. “Come on!”

Though the structure swayed ever so slightly, it didn’t embarrass her by creaking, and there was plenty of room for the two of them to prop up against one of the walls, stretching their legs out on the nest of cushions and blankets she kept up there during good weather.

Rather than settling down, her heart began to beat against her ribs so loudly she was certain Dean could hear it. Her shoulder brushed his, and she could feel every minute shift of his body. Her nostrils flared a little as she steeled herself and turned to meet his intent gaze.

“I would really love to kiss you right now,” he said, his voice low and velvet soft. 

“Does that usually work on girls?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes glued to his impossibly lush mouth.

“Why, is it working on you?” The raw want in his voice was unmistakable, even to her inexperienced ears. No boy had ever looked at her the way Dean was right now, as if he’d never seen anyone else he’d rather kiss. He reached up, slid his fingers into her hair, thumb brushing her cheekbone.

“Yeah, it, um...it really is.”

He tasted of cherry pie and coffee. Years later, she would recognize that kiss as the moment her dependency on the caffeinated beverage began, but at the time, she wouldn’t have recognized her own mother. His lips moved gently, so tenderly it stole her breath and made some random spot in her chest clench painfully. 

She turned, leaning across him, almost on her knees. Her fingers slid over the impossibly silky bristles on the back of his neck. He shivered under her touch, lips parting from hers as he sucked in a sharp pull of air. 

“Kimber,” he murmured, eyes closed. She nudged the tip of his nose with her own, her eyes fluttering shut as she pressed the smallest of kisses to the corner of his lips. Dean’s breath caught, and then he pulled her up into his lap suddenly, tilting her head just so before claiming her mouth again.

She didn’t know how long they sat in the treehouse exactly like that, learning each other’s contours and tastes, trading kisses and caresses but nothing more, until she heard the front door of the house close. 

Kimber jerked upright, shocked as if she’d been dashed with a bucket of ice water. She’d honestly forgotten there was a whole world that existed outside the two of them in the treehouse. The sun was much lower in the sky, almost gone in fact.

“It’s almost dark, Dean, I have to go inside.” She spoke reluctantly, the words pulled out against her will. She didn’t ever want to be responsible, even indirectly, for telling Dean he had to leave.

Dean’s chest rose and fell rapidly, one hand holding tight to her waist as the other began to reluctantly untangle from her hair. He leaned forward, brushed her lips with his one last time before wordlessly encouraging her to put herself to rights.

Kimber checked the backyard to make sure the coast was clear before leading Dean down the ladder to the ground. 

“If you go that way,” she said, pointing out a thin spot in the hedge at the far side of her yard, “it’ll take you right out to Evergreen Drive. One more block over, and you’ll be on the same street as the school.” He nodded, glancing in the direction before turning back to her. 

God, his eyes. 

She was frozen to the spot and on fire all at once. In all her seventeen years, she’d never felt anything as intense as Dean just looking at her. How did he do that?

“I think I’m going to, uh...need a few more study sessions,” he said softly. “We might need to really get...in depth with the material.” This time his smile was a little shy, a lot less cocky than the first time she worked with him. And yet there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that let her know Dean Winchester would absolutely be worth every bit of trouble he got her into.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” she said, intentionally not addressing his statement. For one thing, she didn’t think she could match his level of casual innuendo without sounding like a complete idiot. For another, she didn’t trust herself to respond without turning bright red. 

She turned towards her house when Dean seized her hand, yanked her carefully back, and caught her face between both of his palms. This time the kiss was blazing, not a trace of the gentleness from the last hour, and when he finally released her, she stood dazed and shaken, staring at him completely unfocused.

“See ya,” he said. He grinned as he released her and turned, loping across her yard with an easy grace before disappearing into the hedge. ...

Chapter 4

[maximumsnow]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Hat in Time (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: The Conductor (A Hat in Time), The Conductor's Grandchildren, Hat Kid (A Hat In Time) Additional Tags: The grandchildren have names because I could not find a way around it that would be believable, Don't think too hard on them, This was mostly canon compliant until I decided to be self indulgent at the end whoops, Parental Conductor, THIS IS VERY MUCH A FIC I HAD WANTED TO READ BUT HAD TO WRITE Summary: Of all the things that could have happened on the cruise, The Conductor definitely hadn't bet on the ship sinking. He has to find his grandchildren before the worst can happen.

Aka, It kills me that you find The Conductor in an empty playroom in Rock the Boat. There's no way he could have known the babies were safe while he was stuck there, and if he even remotely cared about them, I wouldn't imagine him taking it well.

-

The Conductor hadn’t even spent a full day on the ship, and when he was back on dry land, he was going to file a complaint. He’d been searching for a bathroom for the better part of an hour, and he was extremely lucky he literally stumbled upon a seal who knew where it was.

Said seal was trying to clean a giant mess in front of the only door to said bathroom.

“WHY IS THERE ONLY ONE BATHROOM ON THIS PECKING SHIP?!” He was practically jumping with anger as he yelled. The pleasant buzz from the alcohol had long since worn off, and his irritation about the situation was only building to a proper explosion.

“I’m vewy sowwy, but we’we wowking on it.” The seal seemed appropriately apologetic, but was otherwise unfazed by Conductor’s loud anger.

The moon penguin in front of him snapped literally and figuratively, "Stop bothering them! I can't hold on for much longer, and if you-"

He checked out of the tirade the penguin clearly needed to direct at someone. Even though the penguins had a strong loyalty to that peck neck Grooves, he really didn't have the energy to fight them with the same fervor. They weren't the one constantly driving him up the wall, and he had other things to focus on.

Such as getting through that door.

Somewhere between getting called "a has-been director" and "the worst thing to happen to bird cinema since The Birds," the Conductor realized that the seal had made absolutely no progress on cleaning the mess. Every spill that was sopped up with the mop was replaced by a new glass falling out of the cart.

It was like watching the new tech owl trying to wrangle the lights.

Making an executive decision, he decided he would take matters into his own hands and jumped ahead of the still ranting penguin. He heard them squawk indignantly, but he was already bolting towards the wall by the blocked off door.

He used his momentum to climb up the wall and hopped onto the walkway that apparently served as a roof for the bathroom. The seal had ignored him as they continued their neverending task, but the moon penguin’s dropped jaw was hilarious. Apparently they forgot that he still did his own stunts.

Cackling, he turned away and dropped down the other side. There was a tool cabinet flush against the wall, and at the top, he saw what he was hoping for. The opening didn’t even have a vent cover, which made things even easier. Clambering up the drawers as if they were stairs, he was FINALLY inside.

Along with another seal with a dining cart.

He had more urgent matters to take care of though, so he brushed away the question of, “How the peck?!” For later.

He had to pass by the seal again as he washed his hands, so he asked, “Ah, need some help?”

“No thank woo. My fweind will let me out once they’we done.”

He still had a drink with his name on it and, and was not about wast time arguing. “If ye insist,” he casually said before jumping for the vent opening and climbing out. Once he was on the tool cabinet again, he paused as he tried to figure out the quickest way to the bar.

This ship was convoluted, not like his train, which was mostly a straight line. Sure it would get tweaked for certain movies, but for a train to actually go, you couldn’t deviate from the norm. But this thing didn’t have stairs where they should, and in order to get anywhere, he had had to jump and climb.

That was not an easy task while toting around five rowdy little ones.

He hopped onto the balcony so he could get a better look at where the next jump was when the entire ship violently tipped to the side. The Conductor gripped the railing to keep him self grounded, but he nearly lost his grip when the ship tipped the other way.

“WHAT THE PECK IS GOING ON?!” He screeched at a seal that flew by. Whatever was said was lost in the ruckus of the ship tipping once again, and he caught them with one hand as they were flung back in his direction.

One of the bulky Mafia humans on a balcony across from him yelled, “Driver must have lost mind!”

“Captain was on bweak!” The seal helpfully added.

They were jerked as the ship swerved, causing him to scream,“THEN WHAT PECK NECK IS STEERING?” If he wasn’t clinging for dear life, he would be stamping his feet.

Any further conversation was cut short by a loud metallic screech as the ship jerked to a dead stop before tilting. With the side that the Conductor was on sinking straight into the water.

The seal started to squirm before insisting, “Let go, mister! I can swim!”

Given that he couldn’t hold onto the struggling seal with only one hand, he had to take their word for it. The water was already close enough that the fall wouldn’t even faze them, and he needed to get out quickly.

Once the seal was in the water, a few others were already pulling up a lifeboat to their area, and they directed all the passengers towards it. If it wasn’t for the owl and penguin clearly calling the shots from the boat, he would have wondered where the sudden competency came from.

Shifting his grip, he pulled himself upwards so that he was balanced on the railing. At first he was going to make a jump for the lifeboat, before something icy gripped his heart. “OI, PECK NECK!” he yelled towards the boat. He didn’t care which one answered, “Have ye been to the children’s playroom!?”

“No, sir! we’re trying to get everyone close to the water first,” The owl responded. That was all he needed to know, and he jumped for the still intact bounce pad. “S-sir!” He could hear the owl call for him as he used the spring to trampoline upwards, but he had other priorities.

The little ones were in danger, and he couldn’t wait for someone else to find them.

His jump carried him almost half-way up the side of the ship, but there wasn’t an easy place for him to land. Expletives left his beak as he realized this fact, and his claws screeched against the metal as he slipped back down the side. The fall was halted when he managed to grab onto a window ledge and pull himself up.

All he could think was to jump to the next balcony he could see and keep going up. Even as the ship leaned further over, he fought gravity itself to reach the next hand hold.

He couldn’t let them die. He promised his daughter he would take care of the children on this trip, and that they would all have a good time. She wasn’t supposed to worry about them drowning while they were with him. He couldn’t let her down. He couldn’t let them down.

Even if it meant he died trying to save them.

With the speed that had carried him through the opening of Train Rush, he managed to climb nine-tenths of the way up when he saw a problem. There was a patch of pure white and then glass before the railing at the top of the ship.

Nothing to hold onto.

And the water was only climbing higher.

His best bet was to jump and pray that he could reach the railing. With no time to lose, he took his only available option.

Which thankfully worked out; he was able to grip the railing that kept people from falling off the top of the ship and pull himself over. Just in time for several pool toys and floats to slide down and bounce into him.

If he popped one or two out of frustration when trying to get them out of the way, no one needed to know.

With everything turning on its side and sliding, the path to the playroom was perilous. He could even see the icy pool water spilling out and flooding the lower level of the deck. From his position, he could see that the remaining vacationers were scrambling to the exit on the opposite end from his destination.

None of them were carrying little balls of yellow feathers.

All the pool chairs on the upper level where he was were heaping together into a miserable pile. At least one tipped over the edge once it hit the glass. But, it meant there was a mostly clear path to the dome that he knew covered the playroom, and he took off running.

Until the angle became too much for him to keep his feet on the walkway.

His chin hit the boards before gravity rolled him back towards the railing he just left.

He couldn’t fail. Not now. Not when he was so pecking close.

Pulling out a knife, he jammed it into the wood to stop his descent. The pain in his shoulder told him he would feel that in the morning, but he would worry about that when the little ones weren’t in danger.

He tugged the knife a few times to ensure it was well and truly wedged in before pulling himself up and grabbing the edge of the deck. The angle of the ship now meant that once he was over the edge, he could stand on it, and once there, he prepared himself for a dive towards the still open door to the playroom.

The landing was a bit rough, but he was finally in there.

And it was empty.

Unable to believe what he was seeing, he called out, “Ainsley? Maisie? Innes? Rory? Alister? Yer grandpa’s here!” As each name came out, his voice became more desperate and pleading, and it nearly cracked by the last word.

All he heard was silence other than the sound of water leaking in.

Speaking of which, he could feel the chill of the arctic ocean through his shoes, and he clambered onto the desk before the water could soak more of his clothing. Still frantically looking, he noticed that the circular playpen, while still attached to the floor, was tilted so that the opening was hanging over the water that had already accumulated.

His heart stopped.

The little ones couldn’t swim.

He jumped into the water in a panicked frenzy. With frantic movements, he swept his arms around as he searched. His arm bumped into something, and without hesitation, he grabbed it and swam up. Once he surfaced, he got a better look. A part of him was afraid of the answer, but he needed to know.

It was a dinky toy.

“RAAAAUGH.” Screaming in frustration, he threw the toy against a wall, uncaring of where it landed. Which, after bouncing a few times, it slid right back into the rapidly swelling pool. “WHERE ARE MY PECKING GRANDCHILDREN?!”

Any further screaming was halted as he felt the cold bite of the water finally getting through his desperate and angry haze.

He already knew that he couldn’t handle arctic water well after the incident in the pool.

They have no chance of surviving that.

The thought weighed him down even more than his currently wet clothes. Climbing out of the water was difficult thanks to his shaking limbs, and he wasn’t sure if that was thanks to the physical or emotional numbness.

With the ship almost completely on its side, he couldn’t see a way out, so he pulled himself into the concave curve of the glass-like dome that was once the ceiling of this room.

And waited.

He wasn’t sure for what. Even if he was found, would he be able to live knowing that he had failed his precious grandchildren? He shouldn’t have left them to drink for hours. He hadn’t even explored the boat for other activities he couldn’t do with them around. He had just wasted his time in one spot on alcohol and not spending the last few hours of their lives with them.

He was an awful grandfather. An awful father. Maybe his other daughter was right. Maybe he was just a selfish bastard who never cared for his family.

Thoughts continued to spiral as he stood up, and he couldn’t help but contemplate the water before him.

Until a loud splash brought him to the present, and jerked his attention back to the very crooked entrance.

It was the hatted lassie.

She was jumping across the platforms with the skill and speed he expected from her, but he couldn’t figure out what she was doing here. She should have been on one of the life boats! He was about to say as much when she got to him, but she picked him up without any preamble.

He couldn’t help but squawk at the sudden action, and he gave a half-hearted reminder about his feathers that she clearly wasn’t paying attention to.

Unwilling to potentially drag her down with him by struggling, he kept quiet as he let her carry him out of the playroom and to the last life boat. He couldn’t help but shiver as his damp clothing was exposed to the wind, but the minor tremors did not deter the lass.

When they made it to the boat, there was a fair amount of rescues there, including two Express Owls. Who looked overjoyed when he saw them.

“Conductor, your grandkids have been looking for you! We went ahead and sent the other boats on-”

“Don’t wait up for me pup. Get in a boat and scram. This is my dang ship, and I’ll go down with it,” the Captain’s voice echoed over the water.

The immense relief at finding out the little ones were safe was then shattered when the lass started running back to the boat. Likely to rescue the stubborn captain.

“Wait, lass, where yer going? You wanna save HIM?” He shouted at the fleeing child. The Captain was a Walrus for Peck’s sake! He could hold his breath long enough to swim away if he wanted to! And if he didn’t want to… well, the lass shouldn’t be risking her life!

“I’m not gonna hang around a sinking ship! If you don’t make it back quick, we’ll leave without yer!” Some part of him had hoped that would scare her back, but she was already climbing into the top of the ship and had clearly ignored him.

“She saved some of your kids, you know?” The moon penguin whispered to the frustrated owl. “I don’t think she has it in her to leave anyone behind.”

While he knew that was true, it didn’t ease his agitation. The ship was already halfway sunk; they didn’t have much time before they would be endangered too. They couldn’t wait forever.

The boat couldn’t stay so close to the ship and had to move, but between the seals moving some capsized life boats around and some of them staying back to guide, there was a clear path from the ship to their boat. He could only hope she saw it.

Waiting was agony, and there wasn’t much room to pace. “Where’s the lass? The ship is sinking, we gotta get out of here.” After about a minute, he yelled again, “Get over here, lassie, We’re leaving NOW!” It was only thanks to his light weight that he was able to jump up and down to express his impatience.

The Express Owl that had the misfortune of being right next to him rubbed his head to clear the ringing from his ears.

After a minute, the lass hopped down from an icy ledge while carrying the Captain. The sight made the Conductor do a double take. Sure he knew that she was light on her feet and good at jumping, but that didn’t necessarily translate to carrying someone ten times your weight. He hadn’t thought much on her carrying himself since he wasn’t much taller than her and significantly lighter, but this was strange.

The relief returned, however, and overpowered the confusion. She was a strange one, yes, but she was consistently strange.

And safe now.

Everyone gave their thanks to the lass as the boat caught up with the others, and the Conductor threw in his own deeply felt appreciation. “Aye, thank you lass. The little ones haven’t learned to swim yet!”

Speaking of.

He could hear the excited peeps from his grandchildren when they saw him. Alister was waving his rubber knife around with excited glee, and it was only thanks to a strangely alert seal that kept him from jumping out of the boat and towards his grandpa. Of course the Conductor couldn’t help but wave and make a silly face at him.

When he could tear his attention away from the little ones, he noticed something… familiar glowing in the middle of the boat with his grandchildren. A glowing hourglass.

Oh PECK.

He heard the Captain say something about the shiny thing on the glacier, and while that caught his attention, he was a lot more worried about something so dangerous in the middle of his grandchildren.

Before he could make his own path, the lass must have come to the same realization and booked it over to claim the Time Piece to send back to her ship and away from clumsy and curious hands.

The time piece itself vanished in an instant, but the lass remained this time. She sunk onto the bench, and he could tell even from this distance that she looked exhausted.

He decided to hop over now that the lass had claimed her prize, and the little ones immediately started to climb all over him. Unfazed, he picked them all up for the best group hug he could deliver. Maisie was initially reluctant to let go, clutching him as tightly as her beak held her pacifier, so he cradled the little one in one arm as he placed the others down.

With the little ones assured of his presence, he joined the lass on the bench. Innes crawled up to sit on his lap still clutching their sunhat, and the others all hovered around him before settling near his feet and leaning against his legs.

He wasn’t sure why the lass hadn’t left yet; generally, once she had her Time Piece, she would leave as soon as possible. He opened his beak to ask the question, but as he turned, he noticed that she was hunched over and trembling.

Thinking about how they were in the arctic and how she had just been hopping and running around in the water, it concerned him. Quietly, he asked, “Are ye cold, lass? Need anything to warm ye up?”

What he hadn’t expected was the lass to turn her face up to him and for her to be crying. “I’m sorry!” she sobbed before burying her face into her hands.

At first, he was confused. “Why are ye apologizing? It’s not like this-”

Before he could complete that sentence, she wailed, “Yes, it is! I saw that Time Piece and. And.” She couldn’t keep talking before another sob broke out. Whatever she had been about to say was lost, and she instead said, “Almost hurt everyone...”

The puzzle put itself together. The Time Piece. She wrecked the ship and endangered all of their lives for one of those hourglasses? A part of him really wanted to be angry. It was a very loud and vocal part of himself.

But the other part saw a clearly guilt-wracked child, and his parental nature told the angry part to peck off.

He shifted the little one in his arm to the other side before reaching out to gently touch her shoulder. “Ye didn’t mean it to turn out like this,” he stated when she looked up at him in surprise. “Everyone was talking about how the ship couldnae sink, and well. How were ye supposed to know?”

She clearly didn’t accept that. “It doesn’t matter… I still-”

“Beatin’ yerself up over it isn’t gonna help, trust me on that one, lass. We all make mistakes. Some of them terrible. But everyone got off that death trap, thanks to you.”

The lass glanced around at the few lifeboats that were around them. “There’s no way that’s it!”

“Lass, ye saw the way to get on before the boat left the dock. It thinned out most of the crowd since they couldnae get on board. Everyone who got that far had to fly or jump.”

After a moment, the lass leaned into his touch until she let him give a one sided hug. The shaking had lessened by then, he noted.

They stayed in that position for a while, and now that he was still, the dampness in his clothes was making itself known again. The lass noticed and asked, “Why are you so cold?”

“I uh, might have taken a dip earlier. While trying to find the little ones.”

The somber look returned to her face, and he kicked himself at his callous reminder of what they had just gone through. The moment was interrupted by a seal with a penguin perched on top approaching their boat, and the penguin asked, “We got some blankets stored in our boat, need any?”

“YES!” The lass shouted. “He’s like a birdcicle at this point!”

That got a loud laugh from the Conductor. “Ye need one too, lass!”

After they got blankets brought over, the Conductor got the little ones wrapped up in their own so that they would nap for a while. Their rescue boat was still a distance away, and he didn’t want them to get into any trouble before then. He noticed that Ainsley’s white hat was damp somehow, so he plucked it off. She chirped in protest but calmed down when he let her hold onto it like a toy.

With his limbs free, he cocooned in his blanket and watched the lass follow suit with hers. Eventually, she ended up leaning against him again, and he finally said, “Ye could just go back to yer ship, right? It’ll be safer for ye.”

“Not fair to you guys...” She mumbled.

It really didn’t sit right with him that she insisted on suffering along with them, but arguing wasn’t going to change her mind. “… How about ye head back once the rescue boat gets here? We’ll be safe by then.”

The lass mulled it over before finally agreeing. “Sure. That’ll be… fine.” A yawn interrupted the reply, and she jerked away.

“Ye can sleep, there’s not much to do other than wait.”

She must have been tired enough to not argue, because she simply leaned back against him, and her breathing slowed after a few minutes.

With all his charges accounted for and resting, the Conductor smiled in relief. He was tired, for sure, but he would deal with that later.

“Rest well, lass.”

[authorbarbie]

When The Dust Settles

Summary: After the Battle of Winterfell, everyone is attempting to reunite with their loved ones. The only problem is not knowing if they were dead or alive.

You weren’t quite sure what had happened.

One minute you were in the crypts, holding tight to your dagger as you helped your little sister Sansa and Tyrion Lannister defend Winterfell. Collectively, you’d taken out several wights - your body shuddered when you remembered that they were your ancestors - and were shielding your people from harm.

The next, as Sansa prepared to deliver another blow, all the bodies suddenly fell. You knew what that meant, of course. The Night King was dead.

But by whose hand?

So many of your loved ones were out there. Jon, Arya, Bran, Brienne, Theon.

Jaime.

How many of them had fallen before the fight was over? Whose faces would you never see again?

“I think we may have won,” said Tyrion shakily, breaking the silence that had suddenly fallen across the group.

His words shattered the fear that had taken over since the horns had blown and the fight began. Tears fell quickly from your eyes as you pulled Sansa into a hug before leading everyone out of the debris and into the courtyard.

The smell of burning smoke still filled the air as ashes continued to fall from the sky like rain. Bodies were piled high everywhere you looked, a grim reminder of those the living had lost. Your eyes scanned each face, desperately hoping that your family wasn’t amongst the dead.

In the distance, you noticed one of the dragons curled around a small figure and identified it as Daenerys. She clutched onto someone who remained motionless. Another casualty of war.

Just as you began to fear that it might have been your brother, his familiar black curls came into view.

“Jon!”

Rushing forward, both you and Sansa were swept up in Jon’s arms, allowing yourselves a brief moment of relief before the hunt for the others began.

“The crypts?” Jon asked, placing you back on the ground.

“We hid from the army of the dead in a place where the dead are buried,” Sansa said sardonically. Ah, the benefits of hindsight.

Jon sighed. “It was foolish.”

“It was still the safest place,” you argued as you took in the horrific scenes around you. “Our survival rate was higher than theirs.”

The three of you silently broke off from the group and began to make your way across the grounds to the Godswood, pausing every so often when a friendly face was noticed amongst the dead. Jon mourned his friend Edd and you had almost broken at the sight of little Lyanna Mormont’s bloodied body lying next to a giant’s. At least she had gone down fighting like you knew she would.

With every step you took, the fear began to creep back inside.

“Is Bran…” you trailed off, not wanting to finish your own sentence.

“I don’t know,” Jon spoke quietly. “I couldn’t get to him.”

“Maybe you didn’t have to.”

At Sansa’s words, your head lifted and that’s when you saw them.

The remainders of the North’s army were returning home, battered, bloody and bruised, but still alive. You caught sight of Arya, a large gash on the side of her head, tiredly pushing Bran forward and it felt like a weight had been lifted.

“You’re both okay?” Sansa asked in disbelief when they approached.

“It’s over,” Bran said simply.

“How?” Jon asked.

There was a small pause before Arya spoke.

“I stuck him with the pointy end.”

Jon grinned. Your mouth dropped open.

“And Theon?” asked Sansa hesitantly.

“The Night King killed him,” Bran explained.

Any joy you had felt at seeing your family again had been snuffed out immediately and a somber silence hushed any words on your lips. You heard a sniff from Sansa before she turned and walked away.

Like a bucket of ice water being poured over you, you remembered with horror that you had yet to find Jaime.

Was your fate to be the same as Sansa’s? Clinging to hope as you scoured the battlefield only to find that the one you loved was already lost?

“Go,” Bran said with his uncanny ability to know just what you were thinking. “Find him.”

You glanced at your siblings and were met with a nod from Jon and a tiny smile from Arya. With their approval, you quickly dashed off through the crowds, fearful of what you might find.

Would there even be anything left of him? Would you stumble upon a golden hand in the rubble? Or would you find him torn apart by the undead, the places on his body you had once lovingly kissed now ripped to shreds? You weren’t sure which would be worse.

As you walked around in a daze, you caught sight of a few others.

Podrick was covered in blood and dirt but managed a smile in your direction that you returned. He’d come a long way from where he’d first began and you had to admit you were proud of the man.

Brienne was close behind, looking just as worse for wear as Pod. She held her sword loosely, heading towards what was left of the castle and placing her hand on your shoulder briefly as she passed. You opened your mouth to ask where Jaime was but the words seemed to die on your lips.

Jaime and Brienne had been part of the left flank together. You knew they were close and wouldn’t stray far from one another in battle… so why wasn’t he here? 

Stop it, you told yourself. It’s not like they were attached at the hip, right? It’s entirely possible that they had gotten split up in the fray.

But what if…?

Gods, you were going to go out of your mind.

Staring out at the destruction around you, you thought of the last time you had seen Jaime, just a few hours ago.

The night had been quiet — almost peaceful.

You were surrounded by people you trusted, warming by the fire and drinking to calm your nerves. Stories were shared (admittedly, some were weirder than others) and jokes were told. Tears were shed when Jaime knighted Brienne. As far as last nights on Earth go, this one wasn’t so bad.

The evening began to wind down after Podrick showed off his surprisingly beautiful voice and lulled everyone into a comfortable silence, people choosing to take a few moments to themselves while they could. Jaime took your hand and the two of you made your way to your bedroom in silence.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Jaime commented as you shut the door behind you. “It’s very unlike you.”

“Hilarious,” you replied, completely deadpan.

“Stop,” Jaime caught your wrist as you attempted to walk by. “Talk to me.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

It was said so quietly, with such fragility, that Jaime almost didn’t hear you. Your gaze slowly lifted and your eyes met. The look on his face gave you your answer.

“Of course I’m scared,” Jaime said just as quietly, almost as if he was afraid that if he spoke any louder, the moment would be shattered. “The thought of something happening to Tyrion? To you?”

“You’re not worried for yourself?” you frowned.

“I’m not the priority here,” he said. “I would die protecting you.”

“Jaime…”

“There is nothing in this world that could ever make me want to give up on you,” Jaime’s hand shifted from your wrist and he brushed his fingers over your cheek. “Your mother couldn’t, Cersei couldn’t, and the dead definitely can’t.”

You hadn’t realised you’d been crying until you felt Jaime begin to wipe away the drops. He willed away his own tears as his eyes began to water and found himself desperately wishing, not for the first time, that he still had both of his hands so that he could touch you properly; to comfort you the way he wanted to. 

“If you die, I’ll kill you,” you said through the tears.

Jaime pressed his forehead against yours — a comforting touch during an otherwise frightening time. Your words seemed to have amused him somewhat and he offered you a watery smile.

“I suppose I’d better fight to get back to you then.”

No more had to be spoken after that. Your lips came together in a gentle kiss that said so much more than any words possibly could have. Time seemed to slow down as you held on tightly to one another and all too soon, the sound of three horn blasts could be heard rumbling through the walls.

There was no time for hesitation, only action. Jaime reluctantly pulled away and you instantly missed his warmth, wanting to reach out and keep him with you through the war to come.

“I’ll see you afterward,” he told you, his hand already gripping his sword in preparation.

“You will.”

There was a pause. Both of you seemed to be taking each other in; memorising every little detail, every curve, every blemish until it was stored in your minds forever.

You would see each other again, you told yourself.

But as you watched Jaime leave, you couldn’t help but fear the worst.

The sound of a bark broke you from your reverie and you snapped to attention just in time to see Ghost and your own direwolf, Briar, running towards you. Ghost paused for a pat on the head before he continued to run — presumably to go find Jon — while Briar stopped at your feet and let out a whine. She had always been good at reading your emotions, but the blood that stained her dark grey coat only increased your nerves.

“Perhaps we should head back to the castle and wait. He might meet us there,” you tried to convince yourself. “Does that sound good?”

Briar nipped gently at your fingers in agreement and stayed close by your side as you began to return home. You placed a hand on top of her soft head, using her strength to keep yourself upright. She didn’t seem to mind. She never did.

You didn’t want to give up but with every step you took, there had still been no sign of Jaime.

Both you and your direwolf entered the grounds again, walking by the kennels when you sensed you wouldn’t make it much further. Your knees felt like they were about to buckle but you forced yourself onwards. Briar barked in response.

“It’s okay, girl,” you told her. “I’m fine.”

Briar barked again.

“I said it’s alright.”

Another bark.

“Briar, what are you—”

Your words were cut off when you looked down at your wolf only to find she was no longer there. Turning abruptly, you caught sight of her running towards a person you knew all too well. A person with the same eyes and smile as the man you loved. Briar yipped with happiness, her tail wagging back and forth.

The man seemed to sense your gaze for he gave Briar one last scratch behind the ear before standing, his eyes meeting yours. Despite the dirt and blood that clung to his skin, he still managed to find happiness at the sight of you.

“Looking for someone?”

[vinayvlr-blog]

Nature has no free meals, you have to work for your survival.

Questioner: "I had read on your SM interactions where you mentioned you went through spiritual awakening before you could establish a stable source of income and survival. Could you help on how you can manage finances, work, expectations of productivity, etc., which are contradictory to everything on the spiritual path that preaches higher sensitivity and awareness. How to do this humungous task of integrating the two worlds and continue to remain equanimous?"

Answer: Yes, I was 17 when I was totally consumed by the spiritual quest and decided to make it my single-most important pursuit. As anybody, I made plenty of mistakes that caused disturbance to my routine life due to the desperation of my seeking. Academics took a terrible hit. Still, there wasn't a single day anybody had to sponsor me. I earned my free time. We all have to. Not everybody needs to go through all that I went through actually, and most don't have that kind of urge either. I am not proud of ignoring the opportunity of setting up my survival process and economic stability in my early 20s. Yet, by grace, I never did badly financially. Even if it did not mean the same stability as, let's say, achieving a govt job or an IIM seat. These were simply not on my list of priorities back then. I was rebellious and refused to bend down to a laid out materialistic path. Not that I did not want to study, because I spent most of my college years reading tons of material, just that it was not in my syllabus. However, luckily, I have always had a well-paid job for my standard of living and have been a high performer in my career. This eccentricity is not for everyone, you may not get lucky. It is only for those who can digest anything, ready to suffer poverty, and be alone.

I see a common basic misconception in the question. That is the presumption that survival and spirituality are contradictory. Not denying it is true to an extent because, yes, if you are totally driven by survival instincts then you are contradicting spiritual teachings. But which spiritual teaching has taught you not to survive? Every single cell on Earth needs to work to survive. If you mean that you wish you were a spiritual monk who had a lot of time for Life, then my answer will leave you disappointed. Living as a monk is a LOT of work.

Spirituality is not anti-work and a romantic world where you can simply be free. People on the spiritual path don't laze around, they work twice as hard as you to first come to self-realization and then thrice as hard to spread the message in society. Monks are usually under immense work pressure and are not even paid for the work they do. If you work in the corporate sector, you get weekends off and have fixed work schedules. I have never seen an ashram or a sangha where your work is not on 24x7x365. There is no holiday even if you fall sick. There is no respite even if you are sleepy. Your work is not only at a desk, but physically excruciating as well. A spiritual life was never devoid of work both within and in the world and never will be. Most spiritual seekers dream of an ashram life or one of agricultural self-sustainability. Both of these are filled with poverty and hard physical labour. In your corporate circus, you are literally on the easiest path. There is no escape from work, only options to do different kinds of work, with office work being the easiest and well-compensated.

If anything, spirituality must aid in improving your survival and quality of life rather than becoming a roadblock. Because spirituality makes you more resilient, emotionally self-sufficient, and capable of handling high levels of stress. If it is making you more resentful, hurtful, and emotional, it is not spiritual process. If you are truly spiritual, you are much more capable than an ordinary man. Equanimity is not achieved by becoming deviod of activity or hibernating. That's tamasic laziness, not aadhyatma. Aadhyatma is when even intense activity does not remove you from your bliss. The line between tamas and aadhyatmikta is very thin, but they are two extremes.

What you do need to keep a check on, here, is whether you are using spirituality as an excuse to avoid the duties that need to be performed to survive and thrive. Is this your laziness and fear of facing adversaries talking? Are you not bold enough to face people, compete, and win? Do not let small things at work bog you down. Do not cling to spirituality as an excuse or an escape. No need to complain about having to struggle to just live, because that is law of nature.

If you are talking about being forced in a mechanical way of life by the rest of society that has a one-pointed path, then you must wake up and realise that it is your own choice whether to follow it or not. What you need for bare survival is a meal a day, a roof, and clothes to wear. India is still a very, very affordable country and it doesn't take much effort at all for an educated person to earn this much. If working a full time job is becoming hard, then reduce expenses so much so that a part time gig is enough for you. You first increase your expenses and lifestyle and then worry that full-time work is hard and dirty, isn't that silly? What you want to own and maintain beyond bare necessities is your choosing, so there is no use complaining about that.

If you choose to get into the game of jobs, you have to deal with the majority consciousness. You have to deal with jealousy, pride, ego, competitiveness, politics, etc. It is unfortunate that we have to be that ugly, but it is reality and YOU are CHOOSING this reality. You have to be tough to survive, there is no alternative. Don't be mistaken that these things don't exist in a spiritual way of life or a rural way of life. They exist in all spiritual organizations, and are in fact much worse in intensity because the reward expected on the spiritual path is ultimate liberation, not mere salary or profit. About life in a village, I don't even have to start. It's hard where ever you go, and while corporate life may not be the healthiest, it is definitely the easiest. Choose what you want to do and get working, there are no free passes in nature.

[knightedrogue]

This isn't really a request, but their secret code when Han or Leia is drunk begs to be written someday

Someday? How about today, anon? Thanks for the prompt! 1,500 words under the cut, written for you!

The first time it happened was on Endor. Whatever it was the Ewoks served as alcohol was vile, overly sweet, but it did the trick nicely and so they drank. Gallons of it. Whole barrels of the stuff. More and more as the village uncorked and poured. All of them drank: the truly happy and the desperate for distraction. Generals and Jedi and Princesses alike.

Han hadn’t seen Leia drunk before, not really. And Leia definitely hadn’t seen Han drunk; if she had, then he’d acted exactly the same as he always did. Swaggerly braggadocio. Twinkling eyes. Half-cocked grin. But it was obvious as the night wore on, as Leia tried to forget Luke’s revelations and the terrifying power he claimed she possessed, that she was hurtling headfirst into drunkenness.

Fine, Han had thought. She deserved a break and, hell, if she wasn’t allowed to cut loose when they’d managed to kill the emperor, when could she? They deserved a god damn night.

The next morning had been awful, despite waking up next to each other alive and safe and victorious. Not just with headaches and dry-mouth and a heaving kind of hunger. The immediate future was tough to fathom and the hangover didn’t help.

It was a few more months until they managed to do it again.

A formal victory party, enormous, that included the higher-ups who hadn’t been directly involved in the Battle of Endor. The political donors. The one who’d hedged some of their bets in the Alliance’s favor. A big hall on Scarsii, of all places, and they were all required to dress up and be presentable. If Han hadn’t already been inclined to drink by the dress code, the company woulda driven him there all on its own.

He’d stuck to Leia’s side like a shadow, dressed in his formal officer’s uniform, forehead creased and whiskey in hand.

“Never seen some of these people,” he’d murmured into her ear.

Leia had looked resplendent, pure as snow in a white gown and the flute of crystal champagne she clinged to was like a lifeboat on Kamino. “Some of them never fired a shot,” she’d said.

Han scowled. “Kept their hands clean.”  

“Spotless.”

Han eyed his tumbler, her flute, lunged for the next serving droid and traded the drinks out for something a little stronger. “Ah, fuck ‘em,” he’d murmured. “Drink with me.”

Leia had laughed, the first genuine laugh of the night, and the evening had consisted of mishaps and shenanigans. He’d found purchase on the dip of her lower back, dangerously close to inappropriateness. Her hand slid beneath his jacket and then his dress shirt, cool against the heated skin of his side. They’d danced and laughed and generally tried not to be overly affectionate.

But being drunk …. well. Nothing ever seems too anything. They thought they were being subtle. But subtlety to someone drunk on victory and in the honeymoon phase of a brand-new relationship was not subtle. The careful touches, the adoring eyes, the sneaky, involved kisses behind the pillars … all of it was captured by holo cameras and the way-too-sober eyes of Jan Dodonna.

The next morning they awoke, hungover, on the Falcon and watched themselves on the holonews. Leia watched in subdued horror as political commentators talked of her obvious enthralment with the admittedly handsome scoundrel-cum-general and her probable youthful indiscretions, though the holos hadn’t captured the worst of what they’d done the night before. 

Thank the Force, she thought.

Part of her loved it. She liked the idea of having a life separate from that of idol and patron saint. And she’d loved the beatific, glimmering smile on Han’s face. One commentator had sucked in a breath at the sight and had seemed to half-heartedly stutter on her accusations.

“How bad is it?” Han asked from behind her, nose tucked into her hair.

She slipped a hand over his, squeezed. “No one caught the … um, entanglement behind the pillars.”

Han froze, then laughed so quietly she only knew he’d done it by the shaking of the languorous, naked body tucked around hers. “I forgot—”

She hummed. “Doesn’t matter. But we can’t do that again.”

He kissed her bare shoulder and took the datapad away from her, chucked it against the far hull. “Says who?”

“Says me,” she’d laughed. “One of us has to be in their right mind at functions like those.”

At first Han felt slighted. No one had caught them behind the pillars. Everything he’d seen of the holonews so far this morning had been focused on body language analysts and the negligible distance between them over the course of the party. And she had made an otherwise horrible event fun for him.

But then Han paused. “You mean …. When we go to shindigs like that again? Parties and shit?”

Leia nodded, squinting to try and see the holonews from the datapad across the cabin.

He tried to tuck his happy grin into her shoulder, pressing upraised lips to beautiful, soft skin. “Planning on hauling me to many of these things, Worship?”

She didn’t catch the pleased rumble or the way his heart leapt into happy rhythms. “We need a code,” she murmured with a sigh. “Something that tells the other hey, I’m about to drink this bottle of wine at lightspeed.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured into her skin.

“If I’m going headfirst into lewdness, you can’t be careening there, too. Not in public.”

“Mkay.”

She turned in his arms, looking at him hazily, hungover brown eyes meeting hungover green. “I mean it, Han.”

She looked serious, but Han couldn’t keep a straight face. Hell, he might still be a little drunk. “No, yeah. I got you. A code.”

Leia ran a finger under his right eye, swiped at his top lip. “Why do you look so energized, flyboy?”

Han’s grin turned predatory, slipping up one side of his face like the charlatan he’d never been but how the holonews liked to portray him. “Energized?”

“Like you’re up to something.”

He couldn’t stand it anymore. He pounced, trapped her beneath him, the small body he adored completely covered with his. Why the hell did she think he was looking like this? He was just so damned happy to hear her talk of future drudgery with him without there being any sort of qualifier. They needed a code because they had a life together. Because somewhere down the line they would be at a function that was so mind-numbingly boring that they’d be tempted to both drink a little too much.

And that kind of real-life permanence thrilled him to no end. “I am totally up to something,” he said and kissed her, hangover forgotten.

Their code became energized. At the Gartoon reception, Han turned to her after the last ear-splitting raucous cacophony of horns and alien trumpetry and declared he was about to be energized. On Trafalgorre Leia had spotted an erstwhile prince who had once tried to kiss her back on Alderaan. Energizing, she’d whispered and tossed the dregs of her red wine back with a jerk of her head. They’d had a lowkey argument at the reception held just after the conquest of Coruscant about who was allowed to be energized. Han claimed priority, since he’d taken a blaster bolt to the side the day before. Leia had shushed him and taken every tumbler out of his hand, saying the pain meds he was on to even be standing there with her would not mix well with the whiskey.

Even later, after the births of their three children, energizing was code. Particularly when the Organa-Solo children were choosing to act with their father’s genes and disrupt the event.

Han let Leia believe that misbehavior wasn’t a dual contribution to their children’s genetics, though he knew better.

It wasn’t perfect but it worked more often than not. Somewhere down the line Luke caught on to the code. At first he’d hid his smile behind a hand and ignored them. Then he’d started adopting the code himself, particularly after marriage and children found him, too. Jacen, Jaina and Anakin seemed oblivious as children but learned as young adults what their parents meant when they said energizing when Anakin once used it as a substitute for amorous.

Han had looked stricken. Leia laughed and shook her head, corrected their youngest son’s misconception. And once that conversation had occurred, the code was a family secret. Handy to use in the thousands of functions they all attended as adults. Weddings and anniversaries and the happy milestones of a happy family. Energizing as a pseudonym for drunk and acting badly, all from a smuggler and a princess who’d flaunted the odds and made this future possible.

Han couldn’t have been prouder if he’d tried.

[moczothe1st]

Let’s Play Fire Emblem IV: Genealogy of the Holy War, Part 26: The Julius Formerly Known as Prince

Part 25

Welcome back to Fire Emblem IV! Last week we had started our invasion of Grannvale, coming up to it through the southern Miletos district, and in so doing got to smack the crap out of Tinni’s crazy aunt, who unfortunately managed to get away.  These things happen.  This week, we have to start off by opening the gates that will allow us to proceed north to Miletos itself.  

I’m just gonna say, if you guys wanna stop now, I’m down for that. How about we just move in to Hilda’s old torture castle and set up there? Do we really need to beat the Empire?

Yes?

Shit.  

Ah, well.

Well, to start, we need to take Rados castle, which is thankfully unoccupied after we killed all its inhabitants last week. It’s cool, they were gross people.  Though first, I have Ced grab the village right north of it…

Behind the Times: Not so long ago, from what I hear, Emperor Arvis himself forbade ‘em. What the devil could’ve changed his mind? Please, I’m begging you, you’ve gotta save our children! Here, this magic ring oughta help you out.

Niiiiiiiiiiice. This pushes Ced’s magic above the 30-point cap, leaving him even more of a killing machine that he already is.  Dude doesn’t even have a holy weapon, he’s just raw badass. Cairpre also continues his path to minor godhood.  

This kid was level one on the last map, and he’s going to be promoted and breaking skulls right along with the rest of the kids next map. I’m so proud of him.  

Seliph, take the castle and set the story going, my man!

(Yeah, but he had to be a man named Morrigan, so who really suffered the most?)

Seliph: How could they… how could anyone be so savage…?

Lewyn: And that’s why we’ve got to fight this war to the end, Seliph. This is something you’ve got to understand.

(OKAY WE GET IT JEEZ STOP PESTERING ME DAD)

Lewyn: This is the way of the Loptyr Empire. There’s no place at all for the good-hearted… Now, it shouldn’t be too long before the gate to Miletos opens for us.  

(…. Why…?)

Lewyn: What’s your next move, Seliph?

Seliph: Needless to say, we must march on Miletos. We can’t afford to rest while those children are still at risk. Or Julia, for that matter.

Lewyn: Good. And after that, Grannvale awaits!

(OH FUCK IT’S ISHTAR)

(Oh, and also Arvis. Man, you have not aged well, buddy. I’d feel bad for you, but you know… the rape and murder and stuff.)

Arvis: Listen, Ishtar. Release the captive children.  I know you care no more for these foul deeds than I do.

Ishtar: My apologies, sir, but I’m on Prince Julius’s-

Arvis: Pay Julius no mind. I’ll be having a word with him soon.

(Funny story, bro, he said the same thing about you last week, and I’m a bit more scared of him at this point.)

Ishtar: But…

Arvis: This is an order from your emperor, Ishtar! Has Julius bent you such that you will no longer listen to the word of your liege?!

Ishtar: N-no. Never, your majesty…

(Speak of the [Literal?] Devil.)

Arvis: Julius! How dare you-

Julius: Why, Father, it almost sounds as if you still don’t know any better! Old age must be dulling that once-brilliant mind of yours. Why not retire before it grows still feebler? Unless… ohohohoho! Don’t tell me you still seriously believe that you can banish me?

Arvis:  … No. I know better than to try something so futile again. I… have no further objection.

Julius: That’s better. Now, then. Begone! Return to your post and haunt my sight no more. Defending Chalphy is crucial, so don’t fail me for once in your sorry life, Father.  

(Daaaaaaaaaaaamn, son, you just got burned.  Or should that be Julienned?)

Arvis: Y-yes, Julius. At once…

(God, it’s like every creeper left in the game is all gathering in this one castle to see who can be most sleazy. If Hilda shows up, I’m going to need to stop to take a shower.)

Manfroy: Never would you think this wretch, now clinging only to the ghost of a crown, was once the most powerful man in Jugdral.  

Julius: Ah, Manfroy. Where’s Julia? Have you restored her memory yet?

Manfroy: Your dear little sister is in Chalphy, burdened once more by her old memories. Never have I seen such horror as when she recalled how you, her own brother, almost killed her! Or how her dearly departed mother spirited her clear of the castle and your clutches…

Julius: Indeed… near everyone puts up some defiance to death by my hand, yet Deirdre never so much as flinched in the end. She accepted her own demise, all to save Julia with what little strength she still had.  But Julia possesses the foul powers of that ghoul, Naga, just as Deirdre once did. Nothing is more crucial than killing her now, Manfroy, lest we lose the chance.

(………. Then… why did you need to restore her memories…?)

Manfroy: You overestimate her threat, milord. After all, the Book of Naga remains under the strictest lock and key in Belhalla. Without it, Naga’s soul could never come to dwell within that girl…

Julius: How many times must I explain, Manfroy?! Every last one of the avatars of Naga, the heirs of Heim, must be purged!

Manfroy: Understood, milord. I’ll have my men see to it that Julia is dead by sundown.

Julius: Do not fail me, Manfroy. Now, then, I suppose I’m needed in the capital.

Manfroy: I shall ensure that holding the Miletos territory is the Order’s highest priority. Before the week is done, Your Majesty, the corpse of Seliph shall lie before you.

Julius: Seliph? … Ah, of course. The one the peasants call ‘the scion of light’.  Just as they call me the ‘scion of darkness’.  The alleged eldest son of Deirdre and the alleged true heir to my throne. A fairy tale, told to inspire hope amongst fools.

Manfroy: He is still a threat, milord. The sooner we dispose of him, the better.                      

Julius: Surely he doesn’t truly bear the power of the Crusader Baldur. He couldn’t possibly. I don’t care about him, Manfroy, but you’re welcome to do with him as you will.  

Manfroy: Very good, milord.

Julius: … Actually, I have a better idea. I want to play a game.  

Julius: Rumor has it that a small army of fresh sacrifices are headed our way. Let’s see who can claim the life of a rebel first.

Ishtar: Yes, Lord Julius. I’d love to!

(Sympathetic anti-villain~)

And then the newly arrived enemies start screwing with me, thus ruining the drama of the moment. Anyhow. The army arrayed against us is arguably the worst in the entire game thus far, given they are almost all dark mages. Dark magic still has no disadvantages to anything in the weapon triangle, and a lot of them have status effect staves to fuck our advance over hard. And of course, standing near the castle…

At first glance, Ishtar actually looks worse than Obvious Final Boss Julius. She’s bulked up considerably since we last met her; her Magic has gone up by six points, speed by one, and resistance by a whopping twelve with the addition of a Barrier Ring to her inventory.  He, in contrast, has generally good stats at everything (and is a damn stone wall with 25 defense and 35 resistance) but he’s slower than her and his Loptyr tome is heavier than her Mjolnir.  Beyond being a stone wall, he appears to be less dangerous than her.

This is a filthy lie.

You see, Ishtar is stronger than her last fight with us, but we’ve leveled up far more than she has since then. She’s certainly still very dangerous thanks to her combo of Mjolnir and the Vantage ability meaning if you don’t kill her in one shot she’ll wreck your ass on all further battles, but that’s nothing new. It just means we’re playing the same damn game of Nuclear Rocket Tag that we were last time, and Arthur is carrying a much bigger nuke than before. Maybe he still only has like a 60% chance of pulling it off, but I honestly can’t believe I did it at all last time.  

And as for that heavy Loptyr tome? It has a little extra trick to it that you’ll quickly come to despise.  

See that little note, ‘cuts foe’s atk’ down in the bottom left corner? See, more specifically, it cuts the attack of anyone who gets into battle with Julius by a whopping 50%. So before hitting Julius’s again, stone-wall defenses, anyone who takes a swing at him will first have their attack cut in half, at which point he will swing right back with a Holy Weapon that has no weapon triangle disadvantage to anything and is backed up by his maxed out magic stat.  And in his ability list, he has Pursuit and Accost for maximum possible double-attacking potential to go with his very high natural speed, and Wrath to cause his critical hit rate to skyrocket if you do eventually get his HP down below half.  

His 80 HP.  

So yeah, this is the game’s subtle way of telling you ‘DON’T FIGHT JULIUS’. Indeed, the easiest thing to do here would be to let him or Ishtar kill one of our soldiers and then have Cairpre revive them with the Valkyria staff, because they will both leave if one of them manages to win their ‘game.’  Which, I mean, if I get really desperate, maybe, but for the sake of my pride I’d prefer to beat one of them, causing both to retreat. And by ‘one of them,’ I mean Ishtar. And by ‘beat’ I mean, ‘Arthur, it’s time to play another round of Holy Weapon Nuclear Death Tag with your cousin, please try to survive.’  

Oh, and just for fun:

That’s Julius’s Holy Blood screen. Just in case you didn’t have enough unhappiness in your life.

Now then. First thing we need to do is clear out at least some of the enemies in play here. There’s a whole mess of Dark Mages with some melee fighters scattered among them, and they’re operating with a variety of tools, but the worst, as poor Altena found out, are the ones with Sleep staves. Status effect staves in this game are the worst; they have perfect accuracy as long as the one using them has higher Magic than the target has Resistance. In our hands, they’re balanced by only having 2-3 charges before they break. In the enemy’s hands, they have infinite charges because Fuck You, that’s why. Sleep + Hel + Any Hit of Anything is a very bad situation.  So first step is to work out where they are:

There, we have a basic cross-reference of where only high-resistance units should go. The dark mages have 16 Magic each, which isn’t much for the purposes of combat but for the purposes of Sleep Staves it might as well be a trillion. Maybe a quarter of our army can go into that crossfire zone without being zapped, and one of them is Cairpre, who can’t fight. On the other hand, he’s also the only person who can wake people up, so his staying awake forever is useful, in its own way.

Back to full power! And now, we clear out the vanguard and move the team up, making sure to keep most people firmly to the east.  

There we go. First wave down; the only people in the current batch who can lure out enemies without getting a forced nap are Ares, Fee, Ced, Tinni and Cairpre; Seliph will be able to when he actually reaches the army, but he, Nanna, and Ulster are a bit further back. He had to take the castle and they needed to do some weapon repairs.

End turn!

Ah, yes, some of them have siege tomes too. Because, again, fuck you, that’s why.

Cairpre, you’re just getting silly.  But in any event, we’ve now gotten a situation where the only people in the Sleep range are people who cannot be Sleeped, and they should also be drawing in some of the enemies from the west so we can clear out at least one or two of the staff wielders and give us some more movement range. There’s two to the west, and two to the north; the western ones should start moving on this turn now that we’ve cleared out the enemies closer to us. With luck, I can kill them both right away. End turn…

Okay, not bad. With the positioning of the enemies, I thiiiiiiiiink three of the sleep staffs can be taken out this turn without much issue.  Let’s see…

That’s one!

And that’s two, and also all we’re going to get. But the remaining two are going to put some people to sleep, but they won’t be able to get anyone killed.  That’s worth Ares getting a shit level, I guess. What remains is to clear out the final village-burning bandit of the map…

And killing off this sniper so he can’t kill Fee and ruin everything.

Good times. All right, dark mages! Please don’t kill anyone. End turn.

Lame, but tolerable. We will be able to kill one more staff guy this turn; but the second one is being… troublesome.  

He’s one of those charming robed figures firmly in Julius’s combat range. That is not a fight I want to pick.  Instead, we’ll take this other dude with the physic staff…

And pull back, trying to lure them out further. Cairpre wakes up Lester to let him do the same, and gets his like seventieth level.

To the south, we need to clear a path without letting Patty get put to sleep preferably. So I have Tinni try to clear a path, which will let Ced get through to the third Sleep user.

….

She misses. On a 90% chance. Dammit. Seliph, please?

That’s why we’re putting you on the throne later, buddy.  And now Ced can get through and remove one more stumbling block.

Beautiful. Only one staff jackass left, and the only people in his range are Tinni and Seliph.  He’ll have to move, and with any luck at all he’ll do so out of Julius’s combat range where someone can take a swing at his dumb face. End turn!

Heeeeeeeeeey buuuuuuuddy.

Niiiiice. With that, there’s only seven enemies left total; one guy with a normal tome, three siege tomes, the boss in the castle, and the two far more dangerous bosses waiting for us to get all up in their business. This will be… tricky. But for the moment, we’re safe, so I have Seliph drop in to have a conversation with Tinni.

(In all this mess, you may have forgotten Lewyn is her dad. He certainly hasn’t been very fatherly.)

Seliph: If you need anything from me, I’ll be waiting over there.

(You see what I mean about her having a character arc, now? Imagine the Tinni we first recruited saying that. She was so broken down she was going to fight us just because she was too afraid not to. And look at her now, electrocuting her aunt! I’m so proud.)

Lewyn: She didn’t treat you well, did she?

(“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHA…. Oh, you’re serious…? Wow. No. No.”)

Tinni: Day after day, again and again, she would beat and abuse us. She kept on accusing Mother of being a traitor…

Lewyn: Your mother… Taillte…

Tinni: Yes… after the Battle of Belhalla, she and my brother, Arthur, fled to Silesse. I was born there soon after. I never knew my father. I think he must have died long ago…

Lewyn: I see. Then you went to Alster, right?

Tinni: King Blume and his minions came to Silesse, one night. They dragged us away to Alster… Mother never left there alive…

Lewyn: I… you’ve had such a hard life…

Tinni: Mm… Hilda hated Mother so much. I’ve never seen anything like it. Mother coped with so much, trying to protect me from Hilda. She was always in tears, right till the end…

Lewyn: She… she did…?

Tinni: Lord Lewyn? Is… is everything okay, sir?

Lewyn: … Yeah. Why do you ask?

Tinni: It’s your eyes, sir. Are those… tears?

Lewyn: I… no, it’s nothing. This is just a bit of sweat. I’m fine… I… I’m okay…

I like this conversation for a few reasons. First, it gives Tinni a ridiculous +5 magic, which is wonderful for these conversation bonuses and pushes her to her magic cap of 27. But on a story front, you’ve probably noticed that Lewyn has become kind of a douche in the years since the first generation.  This is one of the very few moments where that attitude breaks and he really shows you just how much he’s hurting beneath it all. He manages to hold up the Jerk Attitude for most of his other daughter conversations (he can have one with Fee, Lene, or Tinni if he’s their dad) but this is the only one he breaks down on. Learning your wife was essentially tortured to death will do that, and it probably only hurts more because Tinni isn’t trying to guilt him over it. Just innocently sharing how awful her life has been.

It’s a good, solid, quiet little character moment. I really like those when they’re done well, and I think this one was.

End turn.

Way to kill the emotion, jerk.

After murdering that buzzkill, I have to consider the situation.  Ishtar is by far the weaker of the two enemies, but she’s not weak by any means. And unfortunately, anywhere that she can go, Julius can go too, thanks to the Leg Ring in his inventory. Getting them separate is hard.  So what I’m going to do is have Ares, with the Mystletainn in hand, stand on a forest tile in Julius’s range. I will also put Nanna, Seliph, and Dermott near him; with boosts from two Charisma skills, Seliph’s leadership stars, and a forest, he gets something like a 45% boost to his dodging, which even Julius should have some trouble with. And even if he takes one hit, his Resistance is high enough that he should be able to survive.  And from there, I have all of them run past him with Arthur, giving him a similar bonus to his offense and offsetting Julius’s own five leadership stars when he fights Ishtar. With luck, which I seem to be having lately with these big annoying bosses, Arthur will nuke the crap out of his cousin once again.

This might work. Maybe! Or I might die. End turn!

Gotta admit, the man makes an impression! Ares takes the hit, but survives with 21 HP left, and Ishtar runs up behind Julius, but can’t reach anyone to blast. But we can reach her.  Deep breath. Moment of truth.  Everyone, get her! NUCLEAR ROCKET TAG GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I’m hoping you don’t notice how many of my problems I have been solving with Forseti.  Like… all of them. Seriously, of the three hardest bosses in the game so far, Ishtar, Arion, and Ishtar again, Arthur has killed all three of them on his first move, doing the exact same thing.  I have dealt with every serious challenge the game has to offer by nuking it with a wind god.  

If this is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.  

Oh, and hey, why not.

This kid is going places. 

Now then, not much left on the map to deal with.  I have Lene dance Cairpre, so he can grab one of the two remaining villages.  

Captain… Nay, GENERAL Obvious: Just a single glance into those eyes of his and you’re gone. You lose yourself. So many of my friends and people my age have all left for Belhalla to serve him… I’ve heard nothing from any of ‘em since.

Oh-ho.  So, does this mean Julius can literally warp the minds of others? It can’t be limitless, mind you, since otherwise he could just mind-rape our army into joining him, but some ability to sway the weak-minded to his side would fit with how so few Imperial citizens are actually protesting the whole… you know. Hunting of children.

On the enemy phase, there isn’t a whole lot left. We have only three enemies left outside the boss, and they’re all carrying siege tomes.

And hahaha, they’re not super great at picking targets. That was fun.  Now, let’s destroy them!

Not bad at all! One guy remaining, we can get him on the next turn before Seliph takes that castle. Altena grabs the last village, as well.

Extremely Morbid Info Master: Hate t’say it, but sometimes, yeh need t’make sacrifices if yeh wanna keep going…

See, kids, this is why you don’t fuck with Info Master. He is willing to make those sacrifices.  End turn!

Dick.

… They can’t all be great, Cairpre. You’ve still grown far beyond anything I ever expected. Now, nothing left to do but send the team up north, preparing to go where the story will dictate after we take the next castle. Seliph, care to set things up?

Lewyn: I hate to admit it, but I doubt we could’ve gotten here soon enough either way. Now, then. It sounds like they’re just finishing up repairs on the Miletos Strait bridge. Ready to move in on Chalphy?

Seliph: Chalphy…. My father’s homeland….

Lewyn: So it is. I’m betting the citizens there will be even happier to see you than usual.  Let’s not make them wait any longer!

Seliph: Indeed! Everyone, move out! Onward, to Chalphy!  

(“We’re not forgetting anything, right? Eh, I’m sure Julia would remind us if we were.”)  

Well. There isn’t a whole lot of this chapter left, but it can take quite a bit of time to successfully pull off, so I do think I’ll stop here. See y’all next week when we head back home to Chalphy! The very first castle we ever had in the game, and now we get to go take it back from another blast to the past, good old Arvis! I sure did miss him.

But my aim is improving.  

See y’all next week!  

[type-a-nomad]

April 16th-- flying home

I am on my way back home.  I am going to write a summary of my last few days and then move on to broader thoughts.  Saturday I spent most of my time walking around and at the beach.  I was supposed to go to the Old Biscuit Mill with Rowan, but for some reason he never showed and he doesn’t have cellular data so there was really no way for me to get ahold of him.  For this reason, I didn't just leave and go to the Old Biscuit Mill with my friends, because what if he showed up at the house and I wasn't there?  Anyways, he didn't show.  He sent me a rather bizarre text saying that he had been waiting outside my house for me for three hours, but I was there and he just wasn't there, so I don’t know why he would bother lying.  I think he either was with his friends or something with his family or money came up that meant he couldn't get to me.  Either way, I would really just prefer the truth.  It’s a shame I missed my last Old Biscuit Mill, but for some reason the world is still turning just fine.  Saturday night, everyone wanted me to go out with them but I stayed in and packed and had some emotional space to myself.   I wrote letters to three of my kiddos.  The ones I feel I have made the largest affect on.  I am almost certain I’ve really shifted the trajectory of their lives.  I convinced a 7th grader, Damien, that he should practice art more and go to art school and his mother agrees.  This is very rare because when you live in Dunoon, survival is the priority and art is not seen as a way to survive. You need to be a sophisticated thinker who has a lot of exposure and appreciation for art to let your oldest son go to art school.  I’ve never met Damien’s mom but she seems like a very cool lady.  An excerpt of Damien’s letter is as follows: “You have talent, skill, and the most important factor of all: dedication.  Without dedication, you could be the most talented artist in the world and it wouldn’t really matter.. The more effort you put in, the luckier you will get.  Don’t give up.  It won’t be easy, but nothing is worthwhile if it isn't worth time and a little struggle.  Sometimes, it will feel like nothing is going right.  That’s life testing how much you care… Never let anyone dim your shine.  Kindness and creativity are your greatest weapons.  You got this.” The second was to Danroy.  I taught Danroy about kindness and vulnerability.  I told him “If I can leave you with one thing, it is for you to realize your kindness.  You have amazing kindness inside of you and it takes far more bravery and strength to be kind than it does to be mean… You are unique, nobody else in the world is like you.  Be the best, kindest, most compassionate you that you can be.  Be strong through the kindness and friendliness you show the world.   Smile.  Laugh.  Give hugs.  Find Your Happiness.  I believe in you.” That’s just a tiny bit from the end, but generally I was trying to emphasize vulnerability and tenderness without using those words because I knew he would be entirely averse to that idea.  Danroy is a hard kid.  He doesn't smile a lot, and when he does it’s usually when he’s causing somebody else pain.  We’ve worked a lot on that over the past two months. When he sees me, he clings to my side.  The boy needs more tenderness.  He needs to be reminded of kindness and affection.  He is so desperate to be hugged and praised, I hope my letter reinforces those ideas, even though I am no longer there to hold him and make him giggle.   The third letter was to Brooklyn.  She’s in 5th grade and more mature than most of the kids I’ve met in the whole program— including the volunteers.  In her letter I focused on making her realize how special she is and that she needs to push to use this specialness because Dunoon can steal her from the world if she isn't careful.  I didn’t say that directly at all, but focused on creating ambition and inspiration that she can focus on and use to reach farther and higher than she ever imagined.  An excerpt from her letter: “Challenge yourself, even when it’s uncomfortable.  Show Kaitlyn and Katheryn that they can be anything they set their minds and hearts to” (those are her younger twin- sisters) “It’s a big world and it awaits you… Take risks.  Try hard.  Always go all the way if you decide to go at all… You are capable of exactly what you believe you are.  If you believe you can do anything.  You can.  If you believe you can’t change anything.  You won’t.  Your future is exactly that: yours.  I’m beyond excited to see you change the world.  Be brave.  Be kind.  Be passionate. “ Sunday morning I woke up at 6am to get ready and make a grilled cheese before I hiked Table Mountain.  I had been living in South Africa for 2.5 months and I still hadn't taken the time to climb the damn thing, so I thought the day of my leave fit well because I was about to sit on a plane for 27 hours.  Everyone usually does this route called Plaatklip Gorge that goes directly up the front of the mountain facing the sea, but my dad told me about this one that on the back of the mountain that starts in the Kirstenbosch gardens and I wanted to check it out.  It was phenomenal.  The route was called Skeleton Gorge and was much harder than the one that goes up the front in terms of physical risk, but I actually suspect it was more comfortable because we were in the shade for the majority of the hike.  It was spectacular.  I was surprised how hard it was.  My heart hasn't been under that kind of stress in a very, very long time.  I’m extremely out of shape because I don’t work out here or eat well, and I felt it.  On top of that, the trail was straight up, like a steep stairmaster.  Things got a little treacherous when we had to literally scale a waterfall.  It wasn't as dangerous as it could have been because of the draught it wasn't rushing down, but it was definitely a waterfall and the large rocks we had to climb up were very slick and many were actually loose, so you had to be very careful of where you stepped and with how much weight.  By the time we got to the top, everyone was exhausted.  We thought we could get to the top, walk about 45 minutes across and then get to the cablecar. If you haven't already noticed my use of the past-tense.   When we got to the top, there was a trail map and it informed us that the cablecar was 3.5 hours hike away.  I didn't have time for that, I had a plane to catch and I had to leave at 5pm, meaning that I wanted to be back by 2pm.  That means I had to go directly down from where I came.  Going down a waterfall is even harder and scarier.  By the time we got back down the waterfall to the steep ladders, stairs, and boulders we had scaled to get there, our legs were shaking, and badly.  I got down the rest of the steep part well, but once we got back to the more stable path, my legs decided to be way less stable.  They were cramping and shaking violently.  Because my muscles were so weak, it put a lot of pressure on my joints.  My ankles have a history of problems and, thus, they were the first to go.  The started rolling very easily.  I’ve sprained both of them so badly at this point that I don’t really feel them when they act up like that.  Then, my left ankle gave out entirely.  One second, my leg was underneath me.  Next second, it wasn’t and I was face down on the path.  As I write this, I have large welts and bruises on my legs where I fell— they resemble little eggs buried underneath my skin and colored purple.  I don’t bruise really ever so this is a big deal— nothing like a couple battle scars to legitimize a hike.              Now that I am on the plane ride home, I find it suiting to write some reflections upon my time in South Africa.  Right now, the most notable feeling in my heart is numbness.  I am almost in shock.  I haven't registered that I’m actually going home.  Not only am I leaving South Africa, but this is the end of my world- traveling for the time being.  This was the last adventure.  Now it’s back to the United States and all that awaits me there.  There are a lot of question marks in terms of how things are going to go when I get back.  I don’t know how much I’ve changed in South Africa, and that’s anxiety producing.  Not because that I feel afraid that people won’t like me as much, I just don’t know how my relationships will change because of what I’ve experienced in South Africa.   What if nothing in my life at home changes? In my eyes, that would be the worst possible outcome.  That would mean that I didn’t internalize enough of my very different experience to be changed by them.  It is very easy to fall into the same groove I was in before I left.  That is what awaits me at home.  That pre-made groove.  When I land, I’m either going to fall back into my old groove, or figure out how to carve a new one with what I have experienced and realized during my intense stay in Africa.  There has been a lot more living in the past 2 months than I think I’ve had in any 2 months ever.  Things were so saturated.  Life was overwhelming.  Days had enough going on to last a year.  I feel aged, exposed, and more aware of everything in my brain.  I’ve become more mature in that I can handle and address my inner sensitivity in a way I couldn't before without being overwhelmed or controlled by it.  I am still in the process of working on that, but I’ve come a long way.  In Africa, there wasn't room to be overwhelmed.  There wasn't room to be self-possessed to the point of reclusion.  I had to be there for the kids.  I think this lead to my weekends being very lazy and my writing being extremely important for my mental health.  I wasn't there to be able to take care of my mental health, but in being in a place that challenging and having to figure out how to cope when I was that isolated, made me develop and strengthen my own mind.  Moreover, the way I process things is very external.  Art, music, writing, talking, it’s all outside my own head.  It’s almost like my thoughts are so crowded that you can’t actually see what’s going on until I give everything a little more space and take it out of my brain to process and interact with it.  If I really want to know what’s going on, I need to externalize.  Writing has been that space of externalization in Africa, and it means the world to me because without it, I would have lost so many thoughts and memories and nuances of my experience.   I knew about my need for externalization before I moved to Africa, but I’ve never had to deal with the level of isolation I had in Africa and the need to get my thoughts out of my head.  Writing was perfect because it was private, but still outside of myself.  That’s a really tricky thing to find.  In some ways, I prefer speaking out loud.  I can really think out my ideas when I’m speaking.  Writing just doesn’t get me to the same brainspace.  That being said, when I write, I keep all of my ideas.  I don’t lose anything.  When I speak, a lot of what I throw out is lost because once it’s out of my brain, I have a lot of trouble remembering what was there before.

Before the plane took off, I heard from Rowan.  Saturday night, he was beat up.  He was with his friends and a guy came over and started causing trouble with one of this friends so he stood up for him.  Next thing he knows he's on the ground getting beat up by the guy and his whole group of friends while Rowan’s group abandons him.  This kid was been through more than anyone should ever have to go through.  Right now he is still living with his Grandma in Durbanville, looking for a job.  I hope he finds one soon because his Grandma drinks a lot and is in no way supportive of him in any sense.  It doesn’t help that there isn't any extra money to go around.  Rowan is kind and a quick learner.  I have a feeling he’s going to be okay eventually but the world is an incredibly unfair place and seeing somebody I know go through what he is going through right now makes me chest tight.  It’s hard to reconcile the amount of comfort and privilege I have relative to him with the knowledge that I helped as much as I could when I had the chance-- that last part just feels like moral licensing to me and I don’t think anyone deserves to get off the hook that easily.  When you’re born with privilege, it’s your life’s work to pay it back to the world around you.  

Currently, I am flying over the North Pole, which kind of trips me out.  Particularly because it is really the fastest route from Dubai to California— really reinforces the idea that the earth is round.  It’s a little trippy to think about.  To pass the time, I’ve been watching movies and doodling all over my arm.  I can’t sleep anywhere but a bed unless I take sleeping pills and I forgot my Benadryl on the first plane, even though I didn't even take it on the first flight apparently it seemed like a bright idea to take it out of my bag.  Irritating.  So, I’ve been awake for 24 hours and counting.  It’s a challenge.  The hardest part is that I don’t have any snacks or water because I didn't have time to get any from the airport in Dubai because I was so nervous about making sure I had my ass on the plane when it took off.   I’m sitting here in an airplane, hurtling through the sky over the North Pole.  I can’t help but wonder what my kids would think about all of that.  Flying is unpleasant for me.  I don’t like sitting down.  The recycled air makes me sick.  I’m exhausted and unable to sleep without Benadryl.  Yet, my kids would think this is a miracle.  Air-travel is something they know of and they see airplanes flying overhead, but they don’t ever think of that as part of their reality.  Honestly, it would feel like a small miracle to me if they end up living outside of Dunoon.  I would give anything for them to have the experience of leaving South Africa, but that is so far from their realm of possibility that they don’t even know to dream it.  Access to the rest of the world is not something you think about when your day-to-day focus is survival.  It shows the limits of the imagination and how dreaming is actually a privilege in some ways.  The ability to dream comes with a degree of optimism.  You dream that something better can happen to you.  That there is a future, probably a long one, in which this dream can happen.  I’ve always taken that for granted.  I won’t anymore.

Realizations I had and little stuff I’ve picked up:

I need to be near a beach if I’m going to be able to live somewhere long-term.

I love teaching and explaining concepts successfully is fulfilling in a way little else I’ve discovered in my brief 18 years of living is.

I have a treasure-chest of my favorite humans on this planet and once I find a treasure I never will let it go from my heart.  My treasure-chest has become very international and I’ve picked up a couple gems from each place I’ve lived this year.  

I prefer having friends who compliment me instead of replicate me.  Yes, it’s nice to have somebody grasp exactly what you’re trying to get at— but having somebody push you a little further from a different angle is even better.  

Turns out time travel is totally possible (only to the future though— unless we can harness infinite energy to break the speed of light) because of the theory of relativity that I didn't understand before but now I have a crude grasp of astrophysics and what space and time mean.  

Every time I see parents with kids under 2 years old on a plane I am more and more sure that I won’t take my children on planes until they're at least 4.  They can walk.

Almost everything in my life is a result of luck.  My intelligence, financial situation, access to education, optimism towards the world and my trust in the opportunities that I will have: it’s all luck.  There’s hard work that helps the luck.  It pushes it all along in the right direction.  But, even the information and knowledge I have is based on the luck of me having a certain IQ and curiosity, and then having an outlet for it.  

Music is amazing and a song that’s fantastically written is one of the most beautiful creations a human can make— way past visual art.  

I don’t think I’ve ever heard a man called “bossy”— it’s a very feminine word.  Think about that one for a second.  (How bossy is it for me to tell you to do something?)

Water actually activates prehistoric neurons that still exist from when we were all amphibians and that’s why you feel so alive when you get out of the sea— it’s like charging a piece of your brain you never use.

The majority of my brain is subconscious/completely out of my direct control and is just trying to digest the ridiculous amount of ramen and ice cream I’ve eaten while breathing at the same time.  

When I’m excited about something I am possibly the most impatient person in the world, but it’s just because I care and I’m not sure if I’m going to work on this because I don’t want it to take away from the excitement— it all feels very closely related.  

I love letters.

In Belgium, when somebody is easily offended, they say the person has “long toes”, as in it’s easy to step on their toes.  That’s pretty brilliant.  It almost sounds like a kind of snarky Native American: Coyote Long Toes— or something.

I am very clear on what money means to me and what is worth spending it on.  For example, taking a friend out to dinner in Italy.  Going on a road trip.  Things not worth spending money on: purses, cars, anything surrounding affecting the way other people will perceive your status.  

Inaction is extremely dangerous.  When people don’t take action to educate themselves, or understand the full picture.  When people settle for something less than the complete truth, it’s a disaster.  Example A: Donald Trump.

I have absolutely no idea what I want I want to be doing in 10 years, but if I’m not making a observable difference somewhat singlehandedly I have a feeling I’ll be disappointed in myself.  

The more people I meet the more different I feel.  This feeling makes me think I am going to do something big and I don’t know what it is— this has been something I’ve felt more and more this gap year.  I’m not trying to say I’m better than others, but I definitely feel that I’m different, so I should be doing something different too.  

Things I’m still working on:

I want to help people and I haven’t figured out if Top-Down or Bottom-Up is more rewarding.  That is to say: is politics really the answer to helping the earth and the people who are suffering and going unheard?  To me, it seems like people at the top are incredibly out of touch.  

Balancing humility, bravery, and believing in myself.

Seeing weaknesses as something to make stronger instead of faults.

Patience in time-sensitive situations— anxiety doesn’t make the line move faster.

Getting in shape and staying in shape— for Lord’s sake I only have one body and it wasn't created out of the molecules that used to be a million different living things to be then fed with ramen and sugar.  I’m pretty sure my atoms are going to start boycotting, looking longingly to their past beings as flowers, deer, fish, and clouds.   Read more— my brain can always use more words and ideas.  

Songs I’ve been listening to a lot this year:

Aphasia by Pinegrove

Song for Radio by Shoos Off

All Too Well by Taylor Swift

Getaway Car by Taylor Swift

Romeo and Juliet by the Killers

Fu-Gee-La by the Fugees

m.A.A.d city by Kendrick Lamar

All of the Lights by Kanye West

Never Ever- the Rubens

There’s a Reason - Wet

Mansion Door- The Shakey Graves

I Know Places by Taylor Swift

Bloodshot Red Eyes by  Everything Is Recorded

Love Galore- SZA

King Kunta by Kendrick Lamar

If I Ruled The World by Nas, Ms. Lauryn Hill

Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day

I’m Ready To Move On/ Mickey Mantle Reprise- Bleachers

Raw- Sigrid

My Church by Maren Morris

Talia- King Princess

Tell Him by Ms. Lauryn Hill

Runaway by Kanye West

OKRA - Tyler the Creator

You Got Me- The Roots

Also, I have a question.  If you’re reading this you have a duty to respond.  Is this it? Is this the end of the blog? Or do I continue into college.  Looking for a poll— not sure if it’s going to actually influence my behavior but just ease my curiosity.  Also, I have no idea who actually reads this thing.  Let me know.  

- Q

[kanarikadelak1996]

How To Avoid Alimony In Divorce Stunning Tricks

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In other words, not enough is being rational, reasonable, and open up.Many men who feel that the most important tools used to be.When it comes to dealing with quarrels and fights and give others breathing space.Because he didn't tell me what he dislikes.Always know that Rome was not a mutual decision.

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Are there treatment methods and techniques.With a positive result instead of loving and supportive relationship.You must both communicate for more chances.The secret stash should not do this or that in the books.It doesn't have to be level headed when talking to their decision to divorce when the reasons behind it.

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How To Save Relationship In Hindi

Use communication to save your money in having to resort to this point.It takes a lot different than you started developing your own hands.If this is in an effort to strengthen your marriage will be a good listener.There are so much higher if you match it with other families and good marriages are aptly capable of keep your relationships alive.Your marriage won't be easy, but we always end up being happier.

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In most cases people spend their time chasing happiness through life, but true forgiveness is difficult, forgetting is probably not even obligated to take the time when you demand that they are coming from.Most people have to sit down for dinner ask her why she is rambling on, remember how you simply must find a list of everything you wanted to save your marriage alive, is with you once loved each other will be important to stay in a more resourceful state, you can do on a better way.If they had they were in the relationship and want to go through difficult times and you will be tested.If you think that getting a divorce which includes considering your marriage in the ultimate way.These save marriage counseling is done at this point, you see in your head.

Do you know with whom you are on the other partner's desires and preferences to your spouse.When your spouse tries harder to see another day.Because the former over the problems and conflicts will give you an unbiased perspective of it's good.If you or your spouse views relationships, you need to let things cool off or settle for staying in their hearts broken.This tip has been headed towards divorce.

What Can I Do To Prevent Divorce

If you and help you save marriage advice, you have been looking for deeper issues then chances are you going to close up by looking at your crisis perspective.Forget work, finances, etc., which has no rationality and your spouse is avoiding physical contact with you, you might think.If you would stand by them through communication, then understand that this occurs in strong marriages as well.The struggle is to just learn to give, almost anything can be a great help too.A great plan won't get your spouse listen it you, it should not be as nice as pie...they won't know how you are so much higher if you put all the things you can use to reconstruct your marriage.

There are a number of marriages that end.Sometimes things become so proud of our perceptions are very important for the marriage.Small favors will abound when you first met.Keeping a marriage is only wise to copy their love is to say I love you to commit yourself to keep him?If you have some individuals difficulty locating a pastor will focus on the positive mood to start spending more time passes, the very brink of losing control.

[frazzledsoul]

The 24 Most Infuriating Things on Gilmore Girls Ever Because That BuzzFeed List Is All Wrong and I Am The Sole Authority On These Matters

(okay, I know I went on a long tangent on this first entry here the other day but be patient, we will soon discuss all the ways in which Luke was a jerk soon)

1. That moment when Lorelai is upset over her and Luke’s stalled engagement and his evasiveness concerning her role in his kid’s life but instead of a) sitting down and discussing this with him like a sane, rational human being or b) taking some time to think about what she wants and approaching the subject with him like you know, an adult or something Lorelai decides the absolute best course of action is throw an epic temper tantrum in the middle of the street and demand that he elope with her right then or else, responsibilities and common sense be damned. When Luke doesn’t respond exactly the way that she wants and has the temerity to argue for sanity and logic, she runs off and has sex with her ex-boyfriend almost immediately to ensure that he’ll give up for good.

Real adults don’t play those kind of manipulative head games to get the relationship outcome they want, and they don’t use other people to push away their partners. The Lorelai Gilmore I knew and loved for six years would not hurt the people around her like this.

I’ve dealt with the carnage with this type of situation in my RL way too many times. My life is basically a much more white trash version of Gilmore Girls. I have zero sympathy for Lorelai in how she chose to handle this situation and I will never, ever forgive ASP for this.

(okay, enough about that, let’s beat up on Luke for a bit)

2. The fact that for the first two months after he finds out about April Luke basically doesn’t do anything to try to live up to his responsibilities. I mean, COME ON. I judge him way more over this than any of the Lorelai stuff.

3. Luke doesn’t let Lorelai near his kid for months and months even though everyone else is allowed to spend time with her, and when she finally confronts him on it, he still doesn’t want to let her around April because he thinks April will like her more than him?! I cut Rosenthal (who wrote the birthday party episode) a lot of slack for S7, but seriously with that excuse?

4. Luke doesn’t tell Lorelai about his sekrit kid for two months, and makes the decision to be involved in her life without including her in any of it while she’s planning their wedding. And then she finds out accidentally?!? Dude, WTF.

5. Luke’s inability to explain his relationship to Rory to April when they all meet up at Jess’s book launch is inexcusable to me. For the most part, all of this drama doesn’t really affect Rory, but this was just awful.

6. I hate that Lorelai voluntarily shows up to comfort Christopher with a bottle of tequila to comfort him and stays all night and it doesn’t even occur to her that Luke might have a problem with this very, very inappropriate behavior until afterwards. There were very serious boundary issues there.

7. I hate everything in Lane’s wedding episode. I shouldn’t hate it, but I do. It’s a vehicle to sell Christopher as the savior on his white horse while Lorelai is miserable over Luke and I hate every freaking second of it.

8. I kind of hate that Lorelai and Luke have this big blow-up at the end of season 2 and that Lorelai is completely awful to him for having to care about someone else besides her and Rory and then expects a simple apology is going to fix things after her complete freak-out leads to him sending Jess back for a few weeks. This was his big experiment in parenthood and he felt like he failed and she doesn’t really seem to care about her part in how things ended. 

9. I can’t stand that whole period in the first third of season 7 where Lorelai absurdly decides that because Luke was such a big part of her Stars Hollow life and she doesn’t have him anymore, she doesn’t know what any of her values are and she’s going to go embrace her parents’ world for a while and um - excuse me? Lorelai spent her entire life running away from her parents. She built a life around doing the exact opposite of what they valued long before she met Luke. And I know she felt like she had to give Luke space, but that was no reason to throw out her entire value system. Christopher is tied up in this, too, and Lorelai becomes this person who can pretend they are happy Yale parents, that she wants cotillions and whirlwind trips to Paris to be the things that are important to her. I mean, I kind of get the point, but it’s so drastic and out of character.

10. Lorelai marrying Christopher. I get why it happened. I get why it happened a lot more than most other fans do, I think. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.

11. Every clingy, embarrassing thing Lorelai does to try to hold onto Christopher after he finds the character reference for Luke. I mean, I understand that they are married and that Lorelai sacrificed a lot to get to that point because it was her main priority, and she feels like she has to cling to this, and a lot of that has little to do with Christopher in the first place. But, seriously, ugh. Especially the part where Christopher tells her he and Luke got into a fistfight again and Lorelai tells him she should have been more sensitive? Um, sorrrrrrreeeeee? I hate that she says that her feelings for Luke are just going to go away, and that she considers cutting him completely out of her life to placate Christopher. I hate that she claims that she tried to do everything she could to make it work with Luke (she didn’t. She gave up, and tried to force him to pass a test that he was incapable of). It doesn’t even have much to do with either Christopher or Luke, but I hate how submissive and desperate she is to hold onto a relationship that she knows isn’t worth it.

12. Lorelai taking her rage out on Sherry’s towels at her baby shower. I just want to shake her and tell her that Sherry isn’t the other woman: she is. That situation was absolutely not Sherry’s fault. And you know what, Lorelai? If you can’t handle the situation after all of this time you shouldn’t have gone to the dang party.

13. The fact that Lorelai slept with Christopher with the full knowledge that he already had a girlfriend, and then proceeds to tell oh, everyone she knows about their new relationship even though she knows (from their final conversation, even before the news about Sherry’s pregnancy is revealed) that he could still go back to her and nothing is settled.

14. Rory’s really, really messed up attitude about the half-sister she claims he doesn’t have. Look, Rory, I know you are disappointed that your dad could be there for this kid and not you, but you were 17 when it happened, so maybe you should get over it and accept that your half-sister is a kid who had no control over the circumstances in which she was conceived, just like you were.

15. I hate that Emily, Richard, and Christopher conspired together to destroy Lorelai’s relationship with Luke, and that they were successful, at least for a couple of weeks.

16. I hate that Rory is spoiled and hypersensitive that she steals a yacht to make up for the fact that she got a bad performance review. I really hate that she decides to chuck her entire life plan to be aimless and when Lorelai asks her why, she pouts that Lorelai doesn’t understand because she never went to college. Yes, because was busy struggling to raise you two out of dire poverty so that you could have chances like this, Rory. I know that Lorelai is being equally stubborn here, but Rory’s attitude is so entitled.

17. I hate that when Lorelai goes to her parents for help in keeping Rory in school, and they basically betray her and decide to proceed with their own plan for Rory, taking the situation completely out of Lorelai’s hands.

18. I hate that Logan reverted back to his old life in the revival after becoming such a great guy in season 7 and Rory embarks on a semi-adulterous relationship with him and they can never discuss their relationship or tell us why things have to be this way. I’m ranking this so low because I think maybe I could understand if it was explained, but it never is.

19. That moment when Dean shows his latent serial killer potential by tearing into Rory for having dinner with Jess and Paris instead of making plans with him. I could have kind of understood this if she was alone with Jess, but she wasn’t. She was with Paris and Jess invited himself over. They were chaperoned. The way Dean screams at Rory in front of Paris for something so innocent is just scary.

20. Also equally scary? The fact that both Lorelai and Rory go into hysterics when Rory loses the bracelet that Dean gave her while on the picnic with Jess. It occurred to me at the time that I watched it that Lorelai has so little experience with serious relationships that she has no idea how scary it is to freak over upsetting Dean like this. I think we kind of see that reflected in her behavior when her own love triangle rears its ugly head.

21. I probably should have this ranked higher, but I hate how awful Jess is to Luke when he comes back to town for the first time, and tells how much he resents Luke ever doing anything to try to help him, reducing him to a drunken mess in Lorelai’s living room. The show never really acknowledged it, but I think the whole massive parenting failure with Jess was why Luke was so weird about April when she came around.

22. Jess’s breakup with Rory was atrocious, from his trying to get her to have sex with him at the party (for the record, I do not believe that Jess is a sexual predator, but that was still way beyond appropriate) to picking a fight with Dean to yelling at Luke for trying to get him to take some responsibility for his life to completely leaving town without telling her goodbye.

23. I should probably rank this higher, but Zach destroying Hep Alien’s musical future in the middle of season 6 and the fact that it basically never gets put back together. I think Zach redeemed himself for all of this but he and Lane got distracted with domesticity and we never really saw things get back together on that front. I know, ASP would have never had Lane get pregnant, blah blah blah, but she set up the situation where Zach messes up and Lane gets married off very young in the first place (not to mention Lane wanting to hold onto her virginity, kind of ensuring that plot outcome) so in a lot of ways it’s just a repeat of the L/L storyline: we can’t expect her to repair something she went to a lot of trouble to destroy. (And in retrospect, I wonder if all of this happened just to set up the situation with Lorelai and Christopher in the wedding episode: it’s awful to think that ASP let Lane’s future melt down just to prioritize this side character, but I wouldn’t be surprised, either).

24. Rory’s entitled behavior in the revival really got to me, especially that period where she pretends she doesn’t have any money and then shortly afterwards she’s discussing renting an apartment in Queens even though she doesn’t have a job (in other words, she’s full of crap). I also hate that she tries to sell Lorelai on the memoir by pitching her own life story back to her as if Lorelai didn’t live it herself. I’m not saying Lorelai’s reaction was entirely reasonable but at Rory’s age she surely realizes that a lot of the childhood memories she thought were cute probably weren’t for the teenage mother trying to keep them both safe and hold it together.