#coming out as a 23 year old with a bunk bed

[wizard-legs]

Hopped on the lasso tool trend (a few years late) with this lighting study of my bedroom

[fundielicious-simblr]

(Adalynn's POV) (AN: This is one of 2 POV posts from Harvestfest. Let me know if you'd like posts [or even just 1 summary post] from the rest of the families from the other gen 2 siblings - I take pictures to compile albums for my own personal satisfaction and for comparison, so I'll have them in my google drive)

L-R - Adalynn [33], Barrett [32]& Macie [32], Zoe [30], Maggie [26], Reece [25], Beckett [24], Amira [23], Priscilla [22] & Annette [22], Charles [20], Parker [19], Ashton [17]

Happy Harvestfest! It's my favourite time of the year because it's essentially our annual family reunion, everyone in my family makes the trek back to my parent's house in Newcrest for a weekend of family fellowship and togetherness - even Beckett and Mandy in Selvadorada. All week the boys were asking about when we'd be leaving to grandpa and nana collins' house, and the day before we left they spent it doing all these drawings for their grandparents and all the aunts and uncles that they're going to be seeing. Whenever we're in Newcrest, we stay at my parents house, the boys sleep in the old boys room, and the youngest 2 room with us in the spare room. Macie, Annette, and Ashton still sleep in the girls room, all our old bunk beds are in storage and they've all got their individual beds in there. We try and make it in a few days earlier to help my mum and sisters prepare all the food that we'll be consuming over the weekend, this year the other kids who had to travel in are either staying with relatives or in airbnbs in the area since I get first dibs on the spare room as the out-of-town sibling with the most children. Since most of my out-of-town nieces and nephews are quite young, it's important for them to have their own space to sleep and not have to deal with the noise of a house full of other kids. Barrett and Kyleigh have the most kids, but they live in the neighbourhood so there's no worries there on where they'll stay - though they are looking to move houses sometime in the new year with this newest addition on its way.

Picture 1: L-R [Back] Adalynn, Macie, Zoe, Maggie, Reece, Barrett [Front] Annette, Amira, Priscilla, Ashton [Middle], Beckett, Charles, Parker // Picture 2: L-R [Back] Barrett, Beckett, Adalynn, Macie, Zoe, Maggie, Reece, Charles, Parker [Front] Priscilla, Ashton, Annette, Amira

Taking family pictures might just be my favourite part of Harvestfest, getting to see the pictures from every year that goes by and seeing the family grow and grow with the Lord's goodness. It seems like just yesterday that we were all living at home and fully involved in the hustle and bustle of life with 13 children at home. Those days were the best and I thank the Lord for choosing to place me with my parents and my siblings, my childhood truly was the best. Getting to update the various groups of pictures yearly is one of my favourite things to do, especially now that there are the grandkids, they even outnumber the original 13 kids that my parents had (AN: I genuinely didn't have the fortitude to try and pose all those children, toddlers, and infants - so just imagine that it happened. Maybe the next sim year cycle when these gestating babies have been born, because I need a good picture to use for my future 'before and after' posts.)

(Back L-R -> Beckett & Mandy, Thomas & Amira, Robert & Priscilla, Lorilee & Charles, Parker & Lana // Front L-R -> Adalynn & Mason, Barrett and Kyleigh, Zoe & Francisco, Maggie & Shane, Reece & Stacie)

This was the first year we've ever taken a 'couples pictures' where all the married/engaged/almost engaged (*cough* Parker) got together for a picture. In almost 10 years we went from just Barrett and I being married to there being 9 married couples and 1 *almost engaged* couple. Between the 9 of us there are 26 children - with 3 more on the way! That's double the number of us kids, with the hope is that we will welcome many more in the years to come.

This year we've got 3 pregnancies at the big house, knowing how my family works a few of us were expecting someone to announce their pregnancy when we were all together, but so far it's just these three ladies having babies. Priscilla also announced to us all that she's having a baby girl! She's due this winter around Christmas time, so we'll be getting her baby girl joining the family first. Her son Andrew is turning 2 next year, so she should have the same gap that I have with my boys with her kids. Kyleigh is pregnant with baby number 11 - imagine that! She and Barrett elect not to find out the baby's gender until she gives birth, so we have no idea whether this baby is a girl or a boy, her last 2 pregnancies were boys so I wonder if she's on a boy streak, she's due in the spring so I guess we've got a little bit more of a wait until we find out. Sweet Lorilee is having her first baby and she's carrying it so well! She's also due in the spring so she's just entering her 2nd trimester, she mentioned the morning sickness going down quite a lot which means she's able to actually enjoy the pregnancy now. She and Charles haven't decided if they want to announce the baby's gender, but her baby shower will be in a few weeks here in Newcrest. It would have been wonderful for it to be here whilst we're all here, but our weekend it already jam packed as there's more than the usual amount of relatives that came into Newcrest for Harvestfest, so it's a weekend full of reunions

[newstfionline]

Tuesday, December 5, 2023

It’s the prices (NYT) The United States spends an average of about $13,000 per person every year on health care. No other country comes close to spending so much. The runner-up, Germany, spends about $7,400 per person. What do Americans get for all this spending? Our health care system does tend to produce more innovation than many others. But much of the spending does little to improve people’s lives. Despite all our spending, the U.S. has the lowest life expectancy of any high-income country, at 79.3 years. Twenty years ago, a group of researchers—Gerard Anderson, Uwe Reinhardt, Peter Hussey and Varduhi Petrosyan—published an academic paper that tried to solve the mystery. The title told the story: “It’s the prices, stupid.” The main reason that U.S. health spending is so high is not that Americans are sicker than people elsewhere or are heavier users of medical care (although both those factors play a role). The main reason is that almost every form of care in the U.S. costs more: doctor’s visits, hospital stays, drug prescriptions, surgeries and more. The American health care system maximizes the profits of health care companies at the expense of families’ budgets.

Nicaragua takes on Miss Universe (Washington Post) As Nicaragua has marched steadily toward dictatorship in recent years, its government has attacked opposition politicians, the Catholic Church, journalists and universities. Now it’s going after the beauty queens. Just when authorities appeared to have squelched all forms of dissent, a willowy 23-year-old Nicaraguan, Sheynnis Palacios, won the Miss Universe pageant on Nov. 18. People poured into the streets of the Central American country in jubilation. The government initially praised the victory—then photos emerged of Palacios taking part in mass anti-government protests in 2018, which were eventually crushed by security forces. The government struck back by attacking the country’s Miss Universe franchise, accusing the family that runs it of “conspiring against the nation.”

UK needs new plan to reverse hit to living standards, researchers say (Reuters) Britain needs a new economic strategy to reverse 15 years of falling living standards and worsening inequality, a leading think tank and an academic research centre said on Monday. British productivity growth has been half that of other rich economies, costing workers an average of 10,700 pounds ($13,577) a year in lost pay, the Resolution Foundation and the London School of Economics’ Centre for Economic Performance said.

Ukrainians in Germany Weigh Wrenching Choice: Stay or Go Home (NYT) Since fleeing Ukraine with her daughter, Iryna Khomich has made a home of a tiny space in a village of prefabricated units in southwestern Germany. A full tour of its single room takes only a few moments: an iron bunk bed and a wardrobe, shoes scattered near the door, clothes drying on radiators. On one recent afternoon, her cat, Dimka, walked in and out, while her daughter, Sofiia, 8, read a German textbook at a desk. But like other displaced Ukrainians who fled west to wait out the war against Russia, Ms. Khomich, 37, lives each day wrestling with an agonizing choice: Should she return home to Ukraine, where the fighting drags on interminably, or put down roots in Germany, effectively turning a temporary separation into something more lasting? It is a cruel dilemma faced by countless Ukrainian refugees scattered across Europe as the war nears the end of its second year, one that pits a longing for family and a sense of shared duty to rebuild their shattered country against the realization that the death and destruction are unlikely to end anytime soon. And they are debating it in places like Freiburg, a city nestled on the edge of the Black Forest close to the French border that has offered open arms, an extensive social safety net and the attractive promise of a life without war. “The heart says go back,” Ms. Khomich said. “But I want the best future for my daughter.”

Temperatures in Siberia dip to minus 50 Celsius as record snow blankets Moscow (Reuters) Temperatures in parts of Siberia plummeted to minus 50 degrees Celsius (minus 58 degrees Fahrenheit) while blizzards blanketed Moscow in record snowfall and disrupted flights as winter weather swept across Russia. In the Sakha Republic, located in the northeastern part of Siberia and home to Yakutsk, one of the world’s coldest cities, temperatures fell below minus 50 C, according to the region’s weather stations. An abnormally early cold snap in Sakha pushed temperatures to even lower than minus 50 C in several areas of Sakha, a vast region just a little smaller than India.

India’s mission to clean the Ganges (Wired) The Ganges River in India supplies water to over 600 million people, and every inch of the waterway is sacred to the Hindu religion—so holy, in fact that many Hindus drink or bathe in its waters. Unfortunately, the Ganges is also one of the most polluted major rivers on our planet, playing host to tons of industrial waste, agricultural runoff, and too much human waste to quantify. India’s government has, of course, taken a variety of different measures to clean up the holy river. Between 2014 (when Prime Minister Narendra Modi came into power) and 2019, the government has provided Indians with 110 million toilets, providing sanitation services to over half a billion people nationwide. At the same time, the government has rolled out the Namami Gange (“Obeisance to the Ganges”), spending $3.77 billion to clean up the river by setting up over 170 new sanitation plants and 5,211 kilometers of sewage lines nationwide. However, experts say that all that government spending isn't making much of a dent in the Ganges’ grime. The river is still filled with islands of plastic waste, and parts of the Ganges contain over 20 times the government-recommended limits for fecal coliform and fecal streptococci bacteria.

China's military: US Navy ship 'illegally' entered territorial waters (Reuters) China's military on Monday said a U.S. Navy ship illegally entered waters adjacent to the Second Thomas Shoal, a disputed South China Sea atoll that has recently seen several maritime confrontations. "The U.S. seriously undermined regional peace and stability," a spokesperson for China's Southern Theater of Operations said in a statement, adding that the U.S. disrupted the South China Sea and violated China's sovereignty. The U.S. Navy said the USS Gabrielle Giffords, an Independence-class littoral combat ship, was conducting routine operations in international waters in the South China Sea, consistent with international law. The Second Thomas Shoal lies in the Philippines' exclusive economic zone, according to an United Nations tribunal ruling in 2016. The Chinese military spokesperson said the U.S. ship was monitored and followed, and that China's "troops in the theater are on high alert at all times to resolutely defend national sovereignty".

Islamic State claims deadly blast at Catholic Mass in the Philippines (Washington Post) The Islamic State claimed responsibility Sunday for an explosion in the southern Philippines that killed at least four people, an attack President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. had blamed on “foreign terrorists.” The blast targeted a Catholic Mass inside a gymnasium at Mindanao State University in the majority-Muslim city of Marawi, some 500 miles south of the capital, Manila. More than 40 others were wounded in the explosion, the Philippine Star newspaper reported. The Islamic State announced on Telegram that its members detonated the device that caused the explosion, news agencies reported. The island of Mindanao in the southern Philippines, which includes a Muslim-majority autonomous region, has historically been racked by armed conflict, and insurgent groups remain active in some areas.

'Wounded child, no surviving family': The pain of Gaza’s orphans (BBC) Medics working in the Gaza Strip are using a specific phrase to describe a particular kind of war victim. “There’s an acronym that’s unique to the Gaza Strip, it’s WCNSF—wounded child, no surviving family—and it’s not used infrequently,” Dr Tanya Haj-Hassan who works with Doctors Without Borders told BBC News. The expression captures the horror of the situation for many Gazan children. Their lives change in a second—their parents, siblings and grandparents are killed, and nothing is the same ever again. Ahmed Shabat is one of those children who was described as a wounded child, with no surviving family, when he arrived injured and crying at the Indonesian Hospital in northern Gaza. The three-year-old survived an air strike on his home in Beit Hanoun, in mid-November. But his father, mother and older brother were killed. Miraculously, at the time he had only minor injuries. Later, an uncle was found, who decided to look after them, along with his own family. He initially took them to Sheikh Radwan city but said they left after “Ahmed was hit by glass fragments” from an explosion. They then went to Nuseirat camp to stay in a UN-affiliated school. But even in their new location, they were hit again. “I ran out of the school’s door and saw Ahmed in front of me on the ground, both legs gone. He was crawling towards me, opening his arms, seeking help.” “He wanted to be many things,” his uncle said sadly. “When we went out together to attend football matches, he said he wished to become a famous football player.”

Israel, Expanding Offensive, Tells More Gazans to Evacuate (NYT) Amid a barrage of airstrikes, Israel sharply expanded its evacuation orders in the Gaza Strip on Sunday in preparation for an expected ground invasion in the southern part of the territory. The new orders, coming three days after the collapse of a weeklong truce, sowed confusion and fear among Gaza residents, some of whom have already been displaced at least once before. Images from Gaza on Sunday showed plumes of dark smoke rising above a rubble-covered landscape and bloodied children wailing in dust-covered hospital wards. Mourners stood beside rows of bodies wrapped in white sheets. The Israeli military said over the weekend that it had approved plans for a larger ground invasion. Israeli forces have already taken control of large parts in and around Gaza City following a ground invasion from the north. The Times of Israel quoted Israeli officials saying on Sunday that the Israeli military had launched 10,000 airstrikes since the initial ground invasion began.

Who will run Gaza after the war? No good options (Washington Post) The Israelis say they don’t want the job. Arab nations are resisting. Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas might volunteer, but the Palestinian people probably don’t want him. As the Biden administration begins to plan for “the day after” in Gaza—confronting problematic questions such as who runs the territory once the shooting stops, how it gets rebuilt and, potentially, how it eventually becomes a part of an independent Palestinian state—the stakeholders face a host of unattractive options. Following the Oct. 7 Hamas attack, Israel vowed to destroy the group as both a military and governing entity. But after more than 15 years in power in Gaza, Hamas and its supporters are deeply embedded in every sector of society—not only in the government ministries they run, but in charities, courts, mosques, sport teams, jails, municipalities and youth groups.

After Watching 10 Migrants Die at Sea, He Now Pleads: ‘Stay’ (NYT) Crowded together with 90 other migrants on a rickety fishing vessel bound for Spain, Moustapha Diouf watched 10 of them die, one by one, from heat and exhaustion. Five were friends. It was in that macabre moment 17 years ago, Mr. Diouf said, that he vowed to do everything in his power to stop others from making the choice he had and enduring the same fate: He would make it his mission to dissuade his fellow Senegalese from trying to reach Europe and drowning or dying in myriad other ways on the perilous journey. “If we don’t do anything, we become accomplices in their deaths,” said Mr. Diouf, 54. “I will fight every day to stop young people from leaving.” Mr. Diouf was among the lucky ones: He made it to the Canary Islands alive. But the whole experience was dreadful, he said. He was imprisoned and deported to Senegal. Upon his return, together with two other repatriates, he set up his nonprofit, known as AJRAP, or the Association of Young Repatriates, whose mission is persuading Senegal’s youth to stay. But he is painfully aware of his limitations. He does not have the capacity to offer anyone a job, and most choose to migrate anyway.

[etraytin]

I posted 566 times in 2022

That's 328 more posts than 2021!

55 posts created (10%)

511 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@beingatoaster

@vaspider

@bethanyactually

@memetrash-coyote

@tanoraqui

I tagged 497 of my posts in 2022

Only 12% of my posts had no tags

#loading ready run - 16 posts

#the west wing - 16 posts

#btvs - 12 posts

#hermitcraft - 10 posts

#the good place - 5 posts

#youtube - 4 posts

#encanto - 4 posts

#journal - 4 posts

#lmao - 3 posts

#this is cool! - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#this is a callout post for all the eighties and nineties kids who read fantasy obsessively and wanted a fire lizard more than anything else

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Watching the news this morning (awful, I know) and they're reporting on a program that builds bunk beds and hands them out "to deserving children." I couldn't help but wonder what a child has to do to be deserving of a bed. Then I realized that the much more vital question is "What could a child possibly do that would make them not deserve a bed?"

19 notes - Posted September 23, 2022

#4

I end up asking myself lots of existential questions every time I move but "Why do I have SO MANY MICROWAVES???" is not usually one of them. In other news, I have one week to sell three microwaves.

20 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

#3

So I was watching Loading Ready Run last night and they were doing a very funny bit on weird superheroes and supervillains. One of them was named 50% Chad, and he basically won the "weirdest superpowers ever" by a long shot. Not even a close race. I was texting with my husband, who is a big fan of superhero comics, and I sent him a picture of 50% Chad.

"Oh yeah," he sends back, "if you think that's something, the creator of that character is the lead singer of My Chemical Romance."

I looked it up, and yeah. The lead singer of My Chemical Romance (who I already knew did comics, but seriously?) is also the same person who created This Guy.

And now I know what it is like to take psychic damage at instant speed.

22 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

#2

Desert Bus for Hope 2022 starts rolling today at 5pm, EST! Raising money for Child's Play Charity to not only buy toys and video games for kids in hospitals and domestic violence shelters, but also to provide grants for child life specialists to make the best use of those resources.

Come watch Canada's funniest nerds play the world's worst video game for days on end to raise money for an amazing cause!

25 notes - Posted November 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

So I've decided that what I like best about Hermitcraft is that it is Minecraft for grownups, but not like you'd think. It's absolutely not "Minecraft with sex and adult language," instead it is "Minecraft where the players make jokes about Top Gun and Alanis Morissette and commiserate about those 25 year old youngsters who just don't understand." It is exactly in my lane. Of course the only person in my life who hears about my new fascination and doesn't immediately go "you're watching _what?_" is my twelve year old son, so I guess I also like Hermitcraft for being Minecraft for bringing generations together. Anyway, it's funny!

35 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[nel-world]

funny scene

Movies "Step Brothers" (2008) - Bunk Bed Scene

Dale: "Hey, you awake?" Brennan: "Yeah." Dale: "I just had the craziest dream. I was driving a helicopter with a cat." Brennan: "Did we just become best friends?" Dale: "Yup!" "Shaun of the Dead" (2004) - Don't Stop Me Now

Shaun: "Okay, Diane, kill the Queen!" David: "What?" Shaun: "The jukebox!" "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" (2005) - Waxing Scene

Andy: "Oooooh! Kelly Clarkson!" "Hot Fuzz" (2007) - The Model Village

Nicholas Angel: "Have you ever fired two guns whilst jumping through the air?" Danny Butterman: "No." Nicholas Angel: "Have you ever fired one gun whilst jumping through the air?" Danny Butterman: "No." Nicholas Angel: "Have you ever been in a high-speed pursuit?" Danny Butterman: "Yes, I have." Nicholas Angel: "Have you ever fired a gun whilst in a high-speed pursuit?" Danny Butterman: "No." "Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story" (2004) - The 5 D's of Dodgeball

Patches O'Houlihan: "If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball." Justin: "What?" [Patches throws a wrench at Justin] TV Shows "Friends" (Season 5, Episode 8 - "The One with the Thanksgiving Flashbacks")

Joey: "Set another place for Thanksgiving. My entire family thinks I have VD." Ross: "Tonight, on a very special Blossom." "The Office" (U.S.) (Season 5, Episode 23 - "Michael Scott Paper Company")

Michael: "Well, well, well, how the turntables…" Jim: "Have turned." "Parks and Recreation" (Season 5, Episode 14 - "Leslie and Ben")

Ben: "I am super chill all the time." Leslie: "Oh, Ben, you beautiful spineless jellyfish." "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" (Season 5, Episode 22 - "Jake & Amy")

Jake: "Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool, no doubt no doubt no doubt no doubt." Amy: "Are you okay?" Jake: "Totally." "Arrested Development" (Season 3, Episode 9 - "S.O.B.s")

Lucille: "I don't understand the question, and I won't respond to it." "New Girl" (Season 2, Episode 15 - "Cooler")

Nick: "Not a chance, Jessica Day. I’d rather kiss a toilet seat!" Jess: "I’m about to say something serious. I hope you’re ready. I think I’m too drunk to marry you." "How I Met Your Mother" (Season 1, Episode 15 - "Game Night")

Barney: "Legendary!" Marshall: "What's the opposite of eating? Isn't it barfing?" "Community" (Season 3, Episode 4 - "Remedial Chaos Theory")

Troy: "I’m a sexy dracula." Abed: "You mean vampire." Troy: "I don’t need to know which dracula I am to know I’m sexy." These scenes offer a variety of humor from slapstick to clever wordplay, showcasing the comedic talents

Movies "The Hangover" (2009) - Wake-Up Scene

Alan: "Hey, guys, you ready to let the dogs out?" Stu: "What?" Alan: "You know, let the dogs out. Who, who?" "Groundhog Day" (1993) - Ned Ryerson Scene

Ned: "Phil? Phil Connors? I thought that was you! Hi, how you doing? Ned Ryerson! Needle-nose Ned? Ned the Head? Come on, buddy. Case Western High? Ned Ryerson?" Phil: "Bing!" "Mean Girls" (2004) - Kevin Gnapoor's Rap

Kevin: "All you sucka MCs ain't got nothing on me. From my grades to my lines, you can't touch Kevin G. I'm a mathlete, so nerd is inferred, but forget what you heard, I'm like James Bond the Third. Shaken, not stirred, I'm Kevin Gnapoor. The G is silent when I sneak in your door." "Ace Ventura: Pet Detective" (1994) - The Opening Scene

Ace Ventura: "Mmmmm, yes, Satan? Oh, I’m sorry, sir. You sounded like someone else." "The Princess Bride" (1987) - The Battle of Wits

Vizzini: "You fell victim to one of the classic blunders. The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well-known is this: Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!" TV Shows "Friends" (Season 3, Episode 2 - "The One Where No One's Ready")

Joey: "Look at me, I'm Chandler. Could I BE wearing any more clothes?" Chandler: "I'm not looking at you. I'm looking at the pillows." "The Office" (U.S.) (Season 7, Episode 19 - "Garage Sale")

Michael: "Holly Flax, marrying me will you be?" Holly: "Your wife becoming will I." "Parks and Recreation" (Season 2, Episode 10 - "Hunting Trip")

Ron: "I have cried twice in my life. Once when I was seven and I was hit by a school bus, and then again when I heard that Li'l Sebastian had passed." "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" (Season 3, Episode 3 - "Boyle's Hunch")

Jake: "Title of your sex tape." Boyle: "What's the plan?" Jake: "Title of your sex tape." "How I Met Your Mother" (Season 2, Episode 9 - "Slap Bet")

Marshall: "You just got slapped! Bet you're feeling pretty stupid right about now. Slapsgiving is upon us!" Barney: "That was three slaps ago, Slap God!" "Scrubs" (Season 2, Episode 1 - "My Overkill")

Dr. Cox: "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present, Man Not Caring." J.D.: "I care, I just don't care about you." "Community" (Season 1, Episode 23 - "Modern Warfare")

Jeff: "Come with me if you don't want paint on your clothes." Abed: "Cool. Cool cool cool." "Archer" (Season 2, Episode 4 - "Pipeline Fever")

Archer: "Do you want ants? Because that's how you get ants." These additional scenes highlight the comedic brilliance

TV Shows "Friends" (Season 5, Episode 14 - "The One Where Everybody Finds Out")

Phoebe and Rachel discover that Monica and Chandler are secretly dating. Phoebe and Chandler engage in a hilarious seduction standoff, culminating in Chandler's confession. "The Office" (U.S.) (Season 5, Episode 13 - "Stress Relief")

Dwight's fire drill prank leads to chaos and hilarity in the office, with memorable moments like Stanley's heart attack and Angela throwing her cat into the ceiling. "Parks and Recreation" (Season 4, Episode 11 - "The Comeback Kid")

Leslie's team tries to set up a campaign rally in a gym, resulting in a series of comedic disasters, including a tiny ice rink and a disastrous entrance down a slippery ramp. "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" (Season 1, Episode 6 - "Halloween")

Jake bets Captain Holt that he can steal his Medal of Valor before midnight, leading to a series of elaborate and humorous heist antics. "Seinfeld" (Season 8, Episode 9 - "The Abstinence")

George becomes a genius when he stops having sex, leading to a series of funny scenes where he impresses everyone with his newfound intellect, while Elaine's lack of sex makes her dumber. These scenes are just a small sampling

Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy" (2004) - News Team Fight

Ron Burgundy: "Boy, that escalated quickly… I mean, that really got out of hand fast!" Brian Fantana: "It jumped up a notch." Brick Tamland: "Yeah, I stabbed a man in the heart." Ron Burgundy: "I saw that! Brick killed a guy. Did you throw a trident?" "Dumb and Dumber" (1994) - The Toilet Scene

Harry: "Lloyd, what are you doing?" Lloyd: "It feels good to mingle with these laid-back country folk, don't it, Harry?" Harry: "I like it a lot." "The Naked Gun" (1988) - Baseball Scene

Frank Drebin: "Strike? Strike? All right, let me check one more thing." [Frank dances around in exaggerated umpire gestures] TV Shows "Friends" (Season 5, Episode 14 - "The One Where Everybody Finds Out")

Phoebe: "They don't know that we know they know we know!" Chandler: "All right, enough! No one is sleeping with anyone!" "The Office" (U.S.) (Season 5, Episode 13 - "Stress Relief")

Dwight: "Today, smoking is going to save lives." Michael: "Oh, my God! It's happening! Everybody stay calm!" Oscar: "What's the procedure, everyone? What's the procedure?" "Parks and Recreation" (Season 4, Episode 11 - "The Comeback Kid")

Leslie: "Oh my God, everything is falling apart." Ben: "I think this ice rink was a mistake." Tom: "I have never been more embarrassed in my entire life." "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" (Season 1, Episode 6 - "Halloween")

Jake: "I stole your Medal of Valor!" Holt: "Impossible!" Jake: "Well, then, what’s this?" Holt: "My Medal of Valor!" "Seinfeld" (Season 8, Episode 9 - "The Abstinence")

George: "My mind is like a computer." Jerry: "So what are you gonna do now?" George: "I think I’ll read a book. From beginning to end. In that order." Elaine: "I don’t know what’s happening to me, Jerry. I think I'm getting dumber." These dialogues capture the humor

their dialogues:

Movies "Superbad" (2007) - McLovin Scene

Officer Michaels: "What's your name?" Fogell: "Uh, it's McLovin." Officer Slater: "McLovin? What kind of a stupid name is that, Fogell? What, are you trying to be an Irish R&B singer?" Fogell: "No, they let you pick any name you want when you get down there." Officer Michaels: "And you landed on McLovin?" Fogell: "Yeah, it was between that or Muhammad." Officer Slater: "Why the hell would it be between that or Muhammad?" "Mrs. Doubtfire" (1993) - Dinner Scene

Mrs. Doubtfire (Daniel): "It was a run-by fruiting!" Stu: "What?" Mrs. Doubtfire (Daniel): "I saw it! Some angry member of the kitchen staff. Did you not tip them? Oh, the terrorists, they ran that way. It was a run-by fruiting." "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (1986) - Ben Stein's Classroom

Economics Teacher: "In 1930, the Republican-controlled House of Representatives, in an effort to alleviate the effects of the… Anyone? Anyone? The Great Depression, passed the… Anyone? Anyone? The tariff bill? The Hawley-Smoot Tariff Act? Which, anyone? Raised or lowered… raised tariffs, in an effort to collect more revenue for the federal government. Did it work? Anyone? Anyone know the effects? It did not work, and the United States sank deeper into the Great Depression." "Zoolander" (2001) - The Gasoline Fight

Derek Zoolander: "Moisture is the essence of wetness, and wetness is the essence of beauty." [Cut to the gasoline fight scene] Derek: "Orange Mocha Frappuccino!" [Friends start spraying each other with gasoline] [The scene ends in a hilarious but tragic explosion] "Bridesmaids" (2011) - The Dress Shop

Annie: "This is some classy sh—" [gets interrupted by stomach cramps] Lillian: "Annie, are you okay?" Annie: "I'm fine, I just… there's something in my stomach…" Megan: "It's happening. It happened." Lillian: "What did you do?" Megan: "I crapped in the sink." TV Shows "Friends" (Season 4, Episode 12 - "The One with the Embryos")

Ross: "What is Chandler Bing's job?" Rachel: "Oh gosh, it has something to do with numbers… and processing… uh… he carries a briefcase…" Monica: "No! It's… something to do with transponding." Chandler: "I’m sorry, the answer we were looking for was 'Transponster!'" Monica: "That's not even a word!" "The Office" (U.S.) (Season 4, Episode 5 - "Dinner Party")

Michael: "Jan and I have a safe word in case things go too far… Fleischmann’s Margarine." Jim: "That's two words." Michael: "Compound word." "Parks and Recreation" (Season 3, Episode 13 - "The Fight")

Ron: "I regret nothing. The end." Leslie: "Ron, how did you get here?" Ron: "I have no idea." "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" (Season 2, Episode 22 - "The Chopper")

Jake: "Tell me about the dream, Scully." Scully: "I was in a chopper. It was raining meatballs." Jake: "Was it awesome?" Scully: "Yeah, it was awesome." "Arrested Development" (Season 1, Episode 2 - "Top Banana")

Gob: "I’m gonna build an airport, put my name on it. Why, Michael?" Michael: "So you can fly away from your problems?" Gob: "No, because it’s the only way to get to Hawaii." These scenes and dialogues are iconic

with dialogue:

Movies "The Hangover" (2009) - Wake-Up Scene

Alan: "Hey, guys, you ready to let the dogs out?" Stu: "What?" Alan: "You know, let the dogs out. Who, who?" "Groundhog Day" (1993) - Ned Ryerson Scene

Ned: "Phil? Phil Connors? I thought that was you! Hi, how you doing? Ned Ryerson! Needle-nose Ned? Ned the Head? Come on, buddy. Case Western High? Ned Ryerson?" Phil: "Bing!" "Mean Girls" (2004) - Kevin Gnapoor's Rap

Kevin: "All you sucka MCs ain't got nothing on me. From my grades to my lines, you can't touch Kevin G. I'm a mathlete, so nerd is inferred, but forget what you heard, I'm like James Bond the Third. Shaken, not stirred, I'm Kevin Gnapoor. The G is silent when I sneak in your door." "Ace Ventura: Pet Detective" (1994) - The Opening Scene

Ace Ventura: "Mmmmm, yes, Satan? Oh, I’m sorry, sir. You sounded like someone else." "The Princess Bride" (1987) - The Battle of Wits

Vizzini: "You fell victim to one of the classic blunders. The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well-known is this: Never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!" TV Shows "Friends" (Season 3, Episode 2 - "The One Where No One's Ready")

Joey: "Look at me, I'm Chandler. Could I BE wearing any more clothes?" Chandler: "I'm not looking at you. I'm looking at the pillows." "The Office" (U.S.) (Season 7, Episode 19 - "Garage Sale")

Michael: "Holly Flax, marrying me will you be?" Holly: "Your wife becoming will I." "Parks and Recreation" (Season 2, Episode 10 - "Hunting Trip")

Ron: "I have cried twice in my life. Once when I was seven and I was hit by a school bus, and then again when I heard that Li'l Sebastian had passed." "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" (Season 3, Episode 3 - "Boyle's Hunch")

Jake: "Title of your sex tape." Boyle: "What's the plan?" Jake: "Title of your sex tape." "How I Met Your Mother" (Season 2, Episode 9 - "Slap Bet")

Marshall: "You just got slapped! Bet you're feeling pretty stupid right about now. Slapsgiving is upon us!" Barney: "That was three slaps ago, Slap God!" "Scrubs" (Season 2, Episode 1 - "My Overkill")

Dr. Cox: "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present, Man Not Caring." J.D.: "I care, I just don't care about you." "Community" (Season 1, Episode 23 - "Modern Warfare")

Jeff: "Come with me if you don't want paint on your clothes." Abed: "Cool. Cool cool cool." "Archer" (Season 2, Episode 4 - "Pipeline Fever")

Archer: "Do you want ants? Because that's how you get ants." These additional scenes highlight th

with memorable dialogues:

Movies "Step Brothers" (2008) - Bunk Bed Scene

Dale: "Hey, you awake?" Brennan: "Yeah." Dale: "I just had the craziest dream. I was driving a helicopter with a cat." Brennan: "Did we just become best friends?" Dale: "Yup!" "Shaun of the Dead" (2004) - Don't Stop Me Now

Shaun: "Okay, Diane, kill the Queen!" David: "What?" Shaun: "The jukebox!" "The 40-Year-Old Virgin" (2005) - Waxing Scene

Andy: "Oooooh! Kelly Clarkson!" "Hot Fuzz" (2007) - The Model Village

Nicholas Angel: "Have you ever fired two guns whilst jumping through the air?" Danny Butterman: "No." Nicholas Angel: "Have you ever fired one gun whilst jumping through the air?" Danny Butterman: "No." Nicholas Angel: "Have you ever been in a high-speed pursuit?" Danny Butterman: "Yes, I have." Nicholas Angel: "Have you ever fired a gun whilst in a high-speed pursuit?" Danny Butterman: "No." "Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story" (2004) - The 5 D's of Dodgeball

Patches O'Houlihan: "If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball." Justin: "What?" [Patches throws a wrench at Justin] TV Shows "Friends" (Season 5, Episode 8 - "The One with the Thanksgiving Flashbacks")

Joey: "Set another place for Thanksgiving. My entire family thinks I have VD." Ross: "Tonight, on a very special Blossom." "The Office" (U.S.) (Season 5, Episode 23 - "Michael Scott Paper Company")

Michael: "Well, well, well, how the turntables…" Jim: "Have turned." "Parks and Recreation" (Season 5, Episode 14 - "Leslie and Ben")

Ben: "I am super chill all the time." Leslie: "Oh, Ben, you beautiful spineless jellyfish." "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" (Season 5, Episode 22 - "Jake & Amy")

Jake: "Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool, no doubt no doubt no doubt no doubt." Amy: "Are you okay?" Jake: "Totally." "Arrested Development" (Season 3, Episode 9 - "S.O.B.s")

Lucille: "I don't understand the question, and I won't respond to it." "New Girl" (Season 2, Episode 15 - "Cooler")

Nick: "Not a chance, Jessica Day. I’d rather kiss a toilet seat!" Jess: "I’m about to say something serious. I hope you’re ready. I think I’m too drunk to marry you." "How I Met Your Mother" (Season 1, Episode 15 - "Game Night")

Barney: "Legendary!" Marshall: "What's the opposite of eating? Isn't it barfing?" "Community" (Season 3, Episode 4 - "Remedial Chaos Theory")

Troy: "I’m a sexy dracula." Abed: "You mean vampire." Troy: "I don’t need to know which dracula I am to know I’m sexy." These scenes offer a

[liminaldreamscape]

Charging Lucid Dreaming Oracle

Card 16 | The Three Worlds

Initial Impressions

Transcending, ascending

Astral projection, travel

Higher being/self

Associated Dream

Night of May 23, 2024

In the first dream, I was in a classroom with white walls and these two metallic, bunk bed-like structures on either side. I knew this to be a classroom from my undergrad years, though it did not look anything like a real classroom. The structures were missing what would be the bottom bunk, creating space underneath where, presumably, students would sit for class. I was beneath the structure on the left side, looking at the structure across from me. That structure had 3D stickers of fish on it. The stickers had liquid and glitter inside them.

I was in the room with a female teacher and one other person. The scene had the air of an alumnus visiting their old school, but I was also somehow currently a student.

Soon, current students, my peers, congregated in the room. As they were pouring in, I was looking at two art pieces the class had made together in my absence. I noticed that I was included in both pieces despite not having been present for most classes and I remarked as much. The teacher, who was now sitting at a wooden desk at the front of the class, said something about me and next year. I laughed lightheartedly said that I was done, so I wasn't coming back. I then started walking towards the back of the class, reciting Sirius Black's speech about having done his time in Azkaban, altered to my four years of undergraduate education.

As I walked, the classroom had changed such that the bunk bed-like structures were gone and replaced with wooden desks, at which each student sat. I walked to the back of the classroom and sat next to a male peer and friend, who joined me in reciting the speech.

In the second dream, I was in a dark room or perhaps outdoors. The environs were pitch black, lit only by a fire just out of my view, giving the scene a faint, orange glow. I was with a white, blond man with sinister energy. He suggested we do some sort of test. He asked me to say the name "Muhammad", which I understood to be some sort of Islamophobic bait. I refused. When I refused, he slapped me across the face. He then repeated the request. I refused again. He slapped me again, but increasing in frequency. This cycle continued for a while, my getting slapped more and more often.

At a certain point, somewhere around 200 slaps, which felt like a predetermined number on the man's part, he stopped and walked back towards a metallic X structure. He stretched and arched his back down onto it, allowing the structure to cut his back. The whole time, during the "game" and during this cutting, the man seemed in almost manic ecstasy.

In the third and final dream, I was at a camp somewhere in Niagara. It was near a waterfall, though notably not the Niagara Falls themselves. In the dream, I was both at the camp and at home, talking to my parents. The visuals were of the camp, while the audio was of the conversation with my parents.

The conversation was somehow taking place both before and after I had attended the camp. My mother was trying to convince my father to let me go to the camp, but I had both not been yet and already gone. As part of the conversation, I was showing my parents photos of the camp, which was both from previous visits and the current one that had already and had not yet happened. My mom noticed that my stuff was in the photos from previous years. I explained that I would go for a day and leave, since I wasn't allowed to stay then, which satisfied her.

Oracle Keywords

Moving, state of flux, resurfacing of old wounds, power struggles, survival needs, internal metamorpheses

Connecting Pieces

Keywords and initial impressions line up

If I am to consider the dreams as part of the Underworld, as manifestations of old wounds and shadow that need to be reintegrated... The first seems to be about loneliness and belonging. The second, I'm less sure about. The last about my parents and freedom.

[kiridarling]

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒.

katsuki bakugou | birthday gone wrong (aha), f!reader, baker!reader, pro hero!katsuki, blizzards, angst and smut, exhibitionism, cockwarming, begging, confessions. minors dni!

— 4.7k words

Wanna blow off some steam?

“Surprise!”

Katsuki jumps ten feet high, and the plastic grocery bags precariously balanced on each finger tear without a second thought. Apples hit the ground with a thud and the egg carton with a depressing slap; one that signifies the crack of at least half a dozen. Katsuki looks at the crowd, red-faced and livid, and Eijirou Kirishima intercepts the awkward silence with:

“Happy Birthday Bakubro! I know y—“

“Said that I didn’t want a fuckin’ party?” Katsuki growls, groceries forgotten on the forgotten. Eijirou looks guilty and chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“W-Well, yeah, but—“

“Everybody out.”

People sigh, and you think you hear Denki whisper told you he’d kick us out. You hate to say that you foresaw a similar outcome. Katsuki’s never been one for people.

Especially you.

“Awe come on, Kacchan,” Izuku says with hands on his hips. “We came all this way! Just let us stay for a little bit.”

“Yeah!” Eijirou seems to cheer up once given a sliver of hope. “Plus, we got cake and stuff. And Just Dance.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, but you know better—he’s always had a soft spot for the redhead. You all wait with baited breath, wondering if this entire evening was a bust, as Katsuki weighs his options in a pool of fallen groceries.

“One hour.”

Eijirou gasps so hard he chokes, and Katsuki’s generosity earns him applause from the audience. (Plus whoops and hollers from Denki and Mina.)

“And I mean it—y’all have sixty fuckin’ minutes before you’re gone without a goddamn trace. Kapeesh?”

“Kapeesh!”

Katsuki sighs, rubbing at his temples as he steps over the mess at the front door. You assume he’ll make Eijirou clean it up. “Whatever. Where’s the fuckin’ cake?”

Ah.

“In the kitchen, my good sir!” Denki says as he ushers the ash-blond into the said kitchen, the rest of the party hot on their heels. Eijirou grabs the cake from the fridge and you’re tense until the plate hits the marble of their island.

“Flavor?” Katsuki asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, I dunno, [Y/N] made it,” Eijirou throws you under the bus, just like that, and you want to scoff at the way Katsuki freezes—if only for a moment. Eijirou’s oblivious as ever, “[Y/N]?”

“It’s red velvet,” you say, trying not to burn under Katsuki’s carmine eyes. You don’t know why he doesn’t look away.

“Frosting?”

“Buttercream.”

As if you’d give him anything else.

Eijirou tries his best to cram 26 candles into the cake before being forced to opt for 23 lest he ruin your decorations. Denki presses him to make a wish and Katsuki rolls his eyes as he blows out the candles. Eijirou wipes an invisible tear because ‘his boy is getting so old.’ Mina and Jiro cut the cake and people seem to enjoy it, and you think that maybe, reuniting with your high school friends after so long isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Even if he said he never wanted to see you again.

“—due to the incoming blizzard, we highly suggest all those who reside in the red and orange zones stay inside until it passes; which should be around ten am tomorrow morning.”

You spoke too soon.

Katsuki turns to the crowd, and you know what he’s going to say before his lip curls.

“Out.”

“Kacchan, don’t be unreasonable!” Izuku says from his comfortable position on the couch. “We’d get caught in the storm if we leave now.”

“Not if you’re fuckin’ fast enough,” Katsuki growls, pulling the greenette’s to his feet by his hair. “Get out, I’m not bunking with you fuckers overnight.”

“Dude,” Denki points to the window, and if you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought the blizzard had already started. “If we leave now, we’ll literally die.”

“Die, then.”

Eijirou sighs, clapping his roommate on the back. “C’mon, man. You know we ca—“

There’s a whirr then a click, and the lights and tv die at once. You can’t see a thing but you definitely hear Katsuki shout:

“Motherfucker!”

Eijirou turns his phone flashlight on first; Katsuki’s busy angrily flicking at the light to no avail. You sigh, turning to the ash-blond (and ignoring those ugly fucking butterflies in your stomach.)

“It’s a blackout Katsuki. The lights aren’t going to work.”

“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that, dumbass?” And your chest tightens because even though he’s not eighteen anymore, he sounds the same—but you aren’t sure why you expected him to sound so different either.

You lift an eyebrow (not that he can see it), “It doesn’t look like you do.”

Denki snorts at that, hollering about how you just owned the ash-blond as Katsuki yells at him to shut the fuck up. It’s...familiar and comfortable, like you’re all in high school again, before you had to worry about your friends dying in their line of work because you couldn’t be there with them.

Before you got injured.

“Well I mean, we have a few blankets,” Eijirou offers, and as your eyes slowly adjust to the dark, you’re convinced you see his figure cross the living room. “And like, sweatshirts if it gets too cold.”

“It’s already getting too cold,” Mina says, and you can’t help but agree. The quickly cooling room has the goosebumps raising on your shoulders, and you’re starting to regret forgetting your jacket at home.

“Okay! I don’t have that many, but,” Eijirou hollers from somewhere, before returning with a handful of cloth. He drops it onto the coffee table. “Plus Hanta and Denks left their hoodies here last time.”

“Oh shit, we did?” Hanta says, and you assume it’s his figure who starts digging through the clothes. “Totally thought I lost this, lol.”

“Did you just saw lol out loud?”

“I did.”

“Ooh Ei, do you still have that old Red Riot hoodie?” Mina asks, and all of a sudden, she’s all over the pile. She finds it before the redhead can answer and snatches it away with a gasp.

You watch the pile dissolve in the darkness, one by one, and by the time you reach for something, your palm hits the cool wood of the coffee table. Fuck.

“Oh [Y/N]! Do you need some of my blanket?” Mina offers, but the blanket is small, and wrapping it around both of your shoulders just renders it utterly useless. You shake your head after she tries for a while.

“It’s fine Mina, I’m not that cold,” you laugh, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! Girl c’mon, you look like you’re freezing!”

And, well. Freezing is a stretch. Sure, you’re a little cold, but you’ll live.

“Do you need my sweatshirt?” Eijirou asks, already pulling at the hem. You roll your eyes.

“I’m serious guys, it’s not that bad,” you say, waving your arms for emphasis. They all grumble but they give up, and you feel like you can finally relax.

Something soft and army green drops into your lap. You pick it up in confusion, before looking up to see who dropped it.

Katsuki looks down at you, face glowing white from the phone flashlights. His eyes pierce your soul nevertheless.

“I don’t ne—“

“Take it.”

Katsuki takes a seat next to you on the couch in his own hoodie. You don’t realize until you put it on that he gave you a sweatshirt themed after his own hero costume.

You can’t sleep.

You can’t sleep, and you’re sure it’s due to the temperature. The wind howls and it sounds like you’re in the eye of a tornado, loose branches knocking against the rattling glass, and upon looking through the window, you see nothing but stark white. You sigh, checking the time on your phone for the fiftieth time this hour. Yep. Still four am.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, dumbass.”

You all decided to bunk in the living room for warmth. You’re surprised Katsuki stayed, though; you figured he would just head to his room and let you all fend for yourselves while he slept in a comfortable bed. But here he is, sleeping next to you on the cold fucking floor.

“Sorry,” you say, but it’s hard when your shivering and your jaw aches from stunting your chattering teeth. Katsuki and Eijirou only had a limited amount of sleeping bags, meaning you’ve got to share a blanket with the hulking ash-blond.

“You cold?” He grunts. You don’t know why he’s asking.

“No.”

Katsuki sighs, and you hear him adjust, the blanket sliding from your neck to your shoulder. “You’re a shit liar.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to glare his way, and you look to notice Katsuki’s laying the same way.

“What’s your point?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer for a moment, but it doesn’t seem like he’s looking for an answer, either—his neon red eyes glow through the dark and straight into your soul, and the next time you shiver, it isn’t because of the temperature.

“You’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Thought you figured that out senior year.”

Katsuki’s face flashes with an emotion you can’t quite pinpoint before it’s gone again. “Yeah. You’d think almost dying would fuckin’ fix that.”

You sigh. Looks like you’re having this conversation now, then.

“I didn’t almost die—“

“Yes, you fuckin’ did,” Katsuki snarls, and Denki almost stirs at his raised tone. “You took that bullet and you didn’t get up for months—“

“And then I woke up and everything was fine! Seriously Katsuki, what’s your problem? I lived.”

“My problem is that you shouldn’t have been there in the goddamn first place!” Katsuki says through grit teeth. You watch his temple roll underneath his hairline. “That was my fuckin’ fight. I don’t need some chick jumping in front of a bullet for me just ‘cause she thinks I can’t take it!”

You scoff, looking around to see if any of your other sleeping friends are listening because get a load of this guy. Naturally, they don’t respond.

“That’s what this is about? Oh, well I’m sorry I bruised your dignity because I didn’t want to see you get fucking shot!”

Katsuki chest inflates with disbelief before it deflates again, and he’s rolling his eyes before he says, “That’s not—you fuckin’ know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh really?” You laugh, and goddammit Katsuki, you just had to bring it up, didn’t you? “Because waking up after two months to your best friend telling you to give up doesn’t preserve your dignity at all, huh?”

“I didn’t tell you to fu—“

“You said those exact words, Katsuki. You said give up, and you left the hospital.”

The ash-blond has nothing to say to that, because he knows that you know you’re right, and trying to jedi mind trick you into believing he isn’t an asshole won’t work.

“Well you fuckin’ listened,” he grumbles, more to himself than you, but enough emotion flares in your core to make you want to scream.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say, huffing, before turning your back to him, deeming this conversation over. “Good night, Katsuki.”

There’s a lull and it has you convinced you’ve won, finally relaxing (as much as you can) onto the cold floor. At least arguing heated your blood up a bit.

“The fuck do you mean?”

You roll your eyes even though they’re closed before you hop back onto your forearms to give the ash-blond a nasty look. “What?”

“You...said you didn’t have a choice,” Katsuki says, and it’s the first time you think you’ve heard him sound weary. Unsure. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means I had to give up on being a hero either way.”

Which sucked. Because you had spent the past four years of your life working your ass off to save others, and you wind up out of commission before you even got started. You...suppose you didn’t tell Katsuki the whole story. Well, you hadn’t had a chance to—today’s the first time speaking with him since you woke up in the hospital.

Katsuki eyes you out of his peripheral, but only for a second. “And that means...?”

“It means that if I land on my spine the wrong way, there’s a high chance I’ll be paralyzed from the waist down.” You growl, frustrated that it was easier to coax the truth out of you than you thought.

The bullet buried close to your spinal column. You had to do PT for months, relearning how to walk as you slowly regain your motor functions. That’s when you started to bake.

“Oh.”

The howling of the wind turns from somewhat soothing to aggravating as Katsuki’s unimpressive “oh” hangs heavy in the air, and you find yourself sighing, the puzzle pieces finally clicking in your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Katsuki asks—he’s still not looking at you.

“Blaming yourself,” you gesture to his figure, which is lax with depression, lacking its sturdiness and usual fire. “You didn’t shoot the gun.”

Katsuki snorts at that, running a hand through his hair, “I might as well.”

“Stop.”

“You got shot because of me,” Katsuki says as if it were a fact. “They were trying to kill me. Not you.”

“And they didn’t kill me. I’m here and you’re here. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be six feet under right now,” you reason. Katsuki shrugs because he’s just as stubborn as you are, and you figure he’s been carrying around this baggage for too many years.

“Does your back hurt often?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean sure, I get flare-ups sometimes, but it’s not too bad. Doesn’t really get in the way of baking as long as the table is high enough.”

Katsuki thinks for a moment, teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Is the table high enough? At your café.”

You shrug, failing to see where he’s going with this. “I have a platform thingy, so. It’s mostly for decorating cakes and things—“

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“What?”

“I’ll buy you a new table,” Katsuki says, nodding to himself as if he was confirming the idea. “A higher one.”

It takes a second for his offer to process, but once it does, you’re fighting a smile. Still the same kid. “Kats, I don’t nee—“

“An—And if you need a new chair. I’ll pay for that shit too.”

You shake your head—mainly in disbelief, “I don’t need a chair, Katsuki.”

“Then what?” He asks, and it almost sounds desperate with the speed he rushed the sentence, “Y’need a car? That hunk of junk you drive could use some work.”

You ignore the jab, because your car works perfectly fine thank you very much, and snort at the suggestion of such an outrageous purchase.

“What? You tryna be my sugar daddy or something?” You joke. Katsuki gives you a look, and it's dead serious.

“D’ya need one?”

“I—no!” You laugh, and have to remind yourself to reel it in before you actually wake Denki up. “I’m fine financially I just—what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothin’.” Katsuki quickly grumbles, facing forwards again. “I just...”

You raise an eyebrow, “You just..?”

“I dunno. I dunno,” Katsuki shakes his head. You let him gather his thoughts in silence before he tries again. He doesn’t.

“Then fuck me.”

In your defense, your mouth moved before you thought it through.

Katsuki has an unreadable look on his face, but his voice is anything but steady when he says, “What?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“U-Uh, I mean,” you recoil. Stupid big mouth. “I—you—don’t worry about it.”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” Katsuki deadpans. You choke.

“I—no, that’s not—“

“That’s exactly what you said.”

“No, I meant as in I’m pent up. Obviously,” you defend with a huff, crossing your arms on the pillow as you glare daggers his way. Katsuki matches your stare.

“Not as pent up as a Pro Hero,” he scoffs, lifting an eyebrow. You take it as a challenge.

You click your tongue in faux pity, “Awe, the number two hero Dynamight doesn’t get laid?”

“No fuckin’ time,” he grunts, though you don’t find much remorse in his voice.

“Well, you have time now,” you say, completely unsure of where this confidence is coming from. Either way, you’ll take it and run.

“I do,” Katsuki confirms, leaning in closer. He’s close enough that you can smell what’s leftover of his cologne, and see the hint of a grin that makes his upper cheek shine silver in the moonlight. You find yourself leaning in just as much as he does.

“Wanna blow off some steam?” You dare to question. Katsuki’s grin only grows wider.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Katsuki’s kisses are surprisingly soft, you think, and so are his lips. But you don’t have much time to think about it as he pulls you in by the waist, quietly groaning into your mouth while he lays you down on your back.

“Always thought you were the prettiest fuckin’ thing,” he growls, trailing butterfly kisses down your neck. “‘M gonna make it up to you, yeah? Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

A hand hikes his sweatshirt above your chest before Katsuki’s latching onto the skin under your collarbone and sucking, teeth digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“Y-Yeah, that’s fine,” you whimper, intoxicated by the way Katsuki’s lips flush pink as he pulls away, eyes locked on the fresh hickey on your chest. They flicker up to you; he grins.

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

Katsuki hums at that, licking his lips before diving back in. You hiss when he bites too hard, prompting him to bite harder, but he always soothes it over with his tongue, topping each bruise with a kiss. You flinch when his lips wrap around your nipple and he chuckles at your meek whimper; a hand removes its grip on the sweatshirt in favor of sliding it up your thigh.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Katsuki says once he pulls away, enjoying the sight of you writhing in anticipation. “And it’s all for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, ‘m all yours just—“ you kick a leg in frustration at the thumb playing with the hem of your panties, “—do something already.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, “Do what?”

You frown, huffing, “You know what.”

Katsuki shrugs, adjusting so he’s caging you to the floor. Ghosting a thumb over your panties, he says, “‘Course I do. You gotta ask nicely first.”

You tighten your hands into fists. He would.

“I’m no—“

“Beg, Princess,” Katsuki growls, his stare unwavering. He presses an inquisitive finger to your clit through your panties either as a promise or a threat—which, you’re not quite sure.

You crumble.

“I—fine, just—finger me.”

Katsuki doesn’t move. Asshole.

“Please.”

The ash-blond grins, finally pushing your panties to the side.

“Good girl.”

When Katsuki slides his first finger in, it’s much too easy, and you blame it on the foreplay. You shudder, hands moving to brace themselves on his big shoulders, and the ash-blond muffles a moan as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Another,” you moan, bucking your hips into his palm. Katsuki’s heated gaze flickers from your body to your face.

“Already?” He chuckles, the rasp in his throat giving his arousal away. You nod—he clicks his tongue.

“Fuckin’ dirty.”

Two fingers feel like so much more than just one, and they have your eyebrows folding in a poor attempt to muffle a whimper. Katsuki’s fingers still move tentatively but they’re getting comfortable, curling and searching for that place that’ll make you tremble. And then he finds it.

“F-Fuck,” your body jolts, and Katsuki’s shushing you against the pillows.

“Keep your mouth shut, Princess,” he purrs, head dipping down to nip at your neck. It adjusts the angle ever so slightly, but enough to make you hiss, and he chuckles. “Unless you wanna get caught.”

“Oh yeah, because that sounds fun right now,” you snort towards the ceiling. Katsuki pulls away with an unimpressed look as his thumb comes down over your clit.

“Can’t wait to fuck the brat outta ya. Maybe then you’ll actually shut up for once, huh?” Katsuki inserts a third finger without you asking him to, and you gasp, clawing at his back.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he laughs against your mouth lowly, as if the light kisses will do anything but make more noise, “Good God sweetheart, you’re really pent up, aren’t ya?”

“Shit—I doubt you’re much better,” you try, scoffing at what you can see of his painfully hard cock in his sweatpants. Katsuki looks down before sending a huff your way, with a cute little blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, pulling out his fingers. You whine at the loss. “How d’ya want me to fuck you?”

You need to take a step back from how crude the question is. Right, sex.

“Right um,” you look around, trying to find the least obvious position—and one that doesn’t make a shit ton of noise. Laying on your side, you tuck an arm under the pillow, before turning around to Katsuki to suggest, “Cuddle-fucking?”

“Cuddle-fucking.”

“Yep,” you say with finality, popping the p. Making big grabby hands his way, you say, “C’mere, big guy.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but moves behind you anyways, warm arms easily finding themselves around your waist under the blanket. After a few adjustments and ensuring you're both fully covered, Katsuki’s hard cock presses against your entrance as he hooks his head over your chin with a huff.

“This is so not on fuckin’ brand.”

“I don’t think fucking in a living room with sleeping friends is on-brand for a pro hero or a baker,” you say casually. Katsuki breaks out into a snort, pressing his face deeper into your neck.

“God, I fuckin’ missed you, ya know that?” He chortles. Your chest blooms with something it hasn’t in years, and for the first time, you find that you don’t mind.

“Don’t be such a dick and maybe I’ll stick around this time,” you quip with a smile he can’t see. Though you feel his against the base of your neck.

“Noted.”

Katsuki’s last words hang in the air, unusually heavy, and your eyes catch the snow beating against the window with a less than angry howl. Katsuki’s chest shudders against your back but he doesn’t move, hands frozen at your waist.

“Hey, I thought you were gon—“

“I’m getting to it,” Katsuki snaps, and you gasp as he starts to push inside. “So fuckin’ impatient, goddamn.”

He pulls you down until he fills you completely, and you suppress the urge to shout at the speed he did it with. Katsuki moves a hand to slap over your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You reach around to pinch him in the side with a huff, he calls you a bitch. It’s a little hard to hear you behind his hand as you say, “Then don’t catch me off guard like that, asshole.”

Katsuki snaps his hips and does exactly what you tell him not to do—prompting another surprised whine out of you and a dark chuckle from the ash-blond. His cheek presses into your jaw as he finds leverage in hiking your lower half up until your puffy cunt is level with his cock, and fucking you until you drool all over the pillow.

“What a pretty fuckin’ thing,” Katsuki grunts, and you can tell he struggles to keep quiet in the way his chest sporadically shudders. You have to grip the pillow for some semblance of purchase and Katsuki chuckles at watching you struggle, before he’s hiking your leg up to fuck you that much deeper.

“I always—always knew you’d sound so good,” he pants, the grip around your mouth bordering on clammy. You want to tell him that if he keeps making so much noise he’ll wake up everyone in this fucking room, but there isn’t much time between moans to get more than a word in. “Fuck baby, keep tightening around me like that, and I might fuckin’ cum.”

You find it amusing how close he is so quickly, until two fingers land on your clit and start rubbing in slow, small circles. Your walls flutter around him and Katsuki digs his teeth into your neck with a curse, his grip around your raised thigh contracting as he tries to hold on for as long as he can.

And that’s when Denki starts to move.

First, he rolls to the left. Which would’ve been fine, seeing as it’s in the opposite direction until he bops Eijirou straight on the nose and promptly rouses the redhead from his slumber. Katsuki’s hips still.

“O-Ow, dick,” Eijirou curses under his breath, quickly scrambling to his forearms. It’s hard to tell through the darkness, mostly because you’re squinting your eyes to feign sleep, but it seems like Eijirou rubs under his nose, only to blink back at a bloody hand.

“...Shit.”

Katsuki’s hips shift, ever so slightly, but enough to nestle his cock deeper and force you to bite back a whine. And another. And then another.

You try your hardest to be discreet when you reach to pinch Katsuki in the side, and he breathes a laugh down your neck.

“What?” He whispers, though it's more than a rasp than anything else. Good to know you’re not the only one struggling to not cum, here.

“You know 'what,'” you quickly hiss. But Katsuki’s hips don’t stop as Eijirou weighs his options to cure his bloody nose in the dark. The fingers on your clit return their usual pressure and you inhale sharply, nails digging into Katsuki’s forearm as your orgasm begins creeping up on you.

Eijirou sniffles and gets up, stumbling through the darkness to turn down the hall that leads to the bedrooms. Katsuki sees that as fucking freedom and his hips really start to pick up so much speed that you struggle to breathe through it all.

“‘M gonna cum,” Katsuki whimpers into your neck, burying his face deeper in a poor attempt to stunt any sound. “Fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, you close baby?”

“Y-Yeah jus’ a little more,” you whimper, eyes rolling as Katsuki finds some inhumane energy in him to fuck faster. He nods at that and bites into your shoulder with a growl, “C’mon, fuckin’ cream all over my cock—atta girl, fuck, fuck—“

Katsuki fills you up the moment you clench around his cock with a sigh, the weight of your orgasm knocking you forehead-first into your pillow as you bite the urge to squeal. Katsuki doesn't growl as much as you expect, moans breathy and light as his hips finally stutter to a stop—but you suppose some things have to change over the years.

Katsuki collapses next to you in pure exhaustion and you’re sure that’s his cum leaking down your thigh, but for some reason, you don’t really mind.

“Hey you,” he speaks first, eyes blazing red in the darkness. You snort.

“Hey, you.”

Katsuki chuckles with a stupidly giddy smile on his face, "Y'know, you still fuck really well."

You drop your head on his chest to snort, and his hands find their rightful place around your waist.

"Better than high school?"

"Yeah..." Katsuki grumbles, before his eyes narrow. "Wait—hey, yo—"

"I haven't fucked anyone since," you snuff the fire before it even starts, and Katsuki relaxes, though his eyes stay slim. He pulls you closer and you sigh—it's comfortable.

"Good," he grunts. And then after a pregnant silence: "I haven't either."

That's...strangely reassuring.

Your arms wriggle until they fold over his shoulders to play with the small hairs on the back of his neck, and he hums, eyes fluttering shut with a final peck on the lips. As Katsuki's breathing evens and the white of the snow dyes the highest points of his face white, you smile. He looks older.

You think he's asleep until he nudges your waist.

"Be my girlfriend."

You don't even hesitate.

"Okay."

By the time Eijirou comes stumbling down the hall, both you and Katsuki are passed out—with his body encompassing yours in the most intimate way, face tucked into your hickey-ridden neck as your arms and legs lock around his being. The redhead gives you both a soft smile as he passes, snorting to himself.

“Took them long enough.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY THOTSUKI

[evabellasworld]

Storm of the Republic

Chapter 25

AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

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Summary:  When Tup murdered General Tiplar during a battle, Anakin Skywalker and Captain Rex dispatched Ahsoka, Fives, and Yara to solve the mystery that was plaguing the Clone Army. Meanwhile, Senator Padme Amidala contacted Commander Fox, Commander Tori, Riyo Chuchi, and Dipper to help her continue investigating the death of Palpatine, suspecting that Dooku was behind the evil plot. But when Dooku send an ISB agent to stop them, the team had to race against time to search for the truth, which could alter the course of the galaxy.

————————————————————————————

Massaging her daughter’s hair with her fingers, Tori hummed a cheerful tune as Frieda was sitting inside the bathtub, splashing water with both her tiny hands. With two candles lighting up the room, the guest bathroom had a sweet scent, which comforted the clone commander.

Curling herself inside the warm, foamy bathtub was a privilege that Tori had, and it would be the last time she could enjoy a bath like this. Usually, she had to take an open shower with Frieda and her sisters and she had to be quick about it. Now, she could take as much time as she needed without rushing through her relaxation.

It was difficult for her to sleep through the night, despite the long journey from the base. She found her queen bed to be soft, unlike her stony bunk bed. Tori and Friedahad to share with Rex, who does everything he can to drive her crazy. She could even recall the time where Rex placed a dead spider on her pillow, which pissed her off the entire day. He apologised eventually, but that didn’t stop her from cussing at him.

It’s been a while since she felt peace, though she’ll have to go back to Anaxes once the mission was done, where she had to deal with Rex and the rest of the 101st Battalion, who always created chaos whenever they had the chance. Flover, especially, would put a dead rat in Dipper’s helmet, which caused him to scream until the other units could hear them.

Flover was also the reason Tori would get a headache whenever they’re in the battlefield, as the blue-haired clone would rush towards the enemies, which unfortunately became her hubris in the Battle of Coruscant. Tori wasn’t there, but she wished Flover was still alive. As mischievous as she was, the commander felt odd without her presence. Even Dipper missed her.

“Mama,” Frieda spoke, holding a rubber ducky in her hands. “Are you okay?”

“I am, baby,” Tori replied, focusing on her daughter. “I was just thinking, that’s all.”

“What are you thinking about, Mama?”

“I was thinking about your Aunt Flover. She would have loved you very much if she was still here.”

“Who’s Aunt Flover?” the little girl asked. “And where is she?”

“Well, Aunt Flover was one of my vod’ika, and she had blue hair and loves to joke around with the others, especially Uncle Dipper. She and Uncle Dipper were like cheese and crackers. Unfortunately, Aunt Flover died in a fight six months ago, and I miss her very much.”

Frieda hung her head low as her smile disappeared. “Mama, what will happen if you die?”

Tori blinked as she hugged her knees, wondering what she could answer. She was no stranger to her daughter’s odd questions, but this one struck a chord in her mind. There were many speculations about life after death, but the commander wasn’t sure what to believe in. But she can’t leave her daughter hanging. Frieda will feel as if she had done something wrong.

“There are many beliefs about what happened after death,” Tori tried to answer. “Some believe that you become one with the Force, some also believe that you either go to the Garden or the Pitfire based on your actions, and some believe that you’re resurrected into another life. The truth is, there is no right or wrong answer to what happened after death. There’s just many possibilities for you to believe, that’s all.”

“Well, what do you believe, Mama?”

“I believe that if I die, then I just fade into oblivion, that’s all.”

“Will you be forgotten, Mama?” cried Frieda. “I don’t want you to disappear forever. I can’t live without you.”

Tori stroked her puffy wet cheeks, smiling. “As long as someone keeps my memory alive, then I’m never truly dead. I wish I could live forever, but that would be impossible. We all have to go, eventually.”

“Do you know when you will die, Mama?”

She shook her head. “No one knows when our time is up. That’s why we shouldn’t take life for granted. In order to be happy throughout your life, we should appreciate every moment we spend with someone we love, whether it’s big or small.”

“Then I will never forget you, Mama,” Frieda promised, as she climbed on Tori’s lap and hugged her. “I’ll do everything I can to remember you.”

Tori hugged her back with tears in her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to make Frieda an orphan. The latter had survived in the streets for a while and Tori does not want her little girl to go through that hardship ever again. Tori had to make sure she lived to see the last day of war.

As she cradled Frieda with her arms, there was a thunderous knock on the door. “Are you done?” Fox shouted. “You’ve been in there forever.”

“Damn you, Foxy,” she cursed, as she got out from the bathtub, with a five-year-old in her arms. “I was having a wonderful moment just now.”

“Whatever, just get changed,” ordered the Marshal Commander. “We have a mission to complete. Also, it’s Fox, not Foxy.”

“Oh please. I bet you were also soaking in the bathtub with Riyo too.”

Silence filled outside her bathroom door. As Tori and Frieda wrapped themselves with a fuzzy towel, Fox finally spoke after a few minutes. “Just hurry, goddamit.”

She snorted, draining the tub. If he can have a nice, romantic moment with Riyo, then I’m also entitled to have a bubble bath with Frieda as well. God, what a sly, cunning fox.

Walking out of the bathroom door, they headed inside their room and changed into the same outfits they wore yesterday, except it was dry cleaned by Padmé. Despite sweating underneath the pink dress, Tori felt as if she had just bought them from a store.

She also wore the same white ribbon as well and applied makeup on her face to look pretty. Those makeup set belonged to Padmé, but the latter was happy to let her use them. Her foundations and powders, however, don’t match her skin, so Tori just put on her eyeshadow, eyeliner, and a hint of lipstick instead.

Her cat eyeliner may not be perfect, but Tori could raise her head as she glanced at her reflections in the mirror. Who the hell gave me permission to make me this beautiful?

“Tori, are you done?” Fox banged on the door. “Come on, we have to get going.”

“I’ll be there, Foxy,” she complained. “It’s not like I’m late, anyway.”

“5 minutes or I’m leaving you behind.”

“I hate you,” she blew a raspberry, as she lifted Frieda with her arms and rushed towards the living room, where everyone was geared up for a stealth mission.

[slippinmickeys]

Five Seconds (7/8)

If you’d like to read on AO3, you may do so here. 

October 23, 2018

Scully was in labor. At least, she thought she might be. She hadn’t been sure, but in the last hour she was now more certain, though her contractions were eons apart. The timing was obviously less than ideal. She was two weeks short of her due date, and when they had pulled off the state highway to the road that led to the cabin, she began hoping for a miracle -- what kind of miracle, she wasn't sure -- that the cabin was spacious and clean and up to date with a fully staffed Labor and Delivery wing? That someone would come and whisk them away to safety? She worried about preeclampsia, prolonged labor. She worried she might need a C-section. She worried she wouldn’t be able to do it.

In Virginia, the mid-morning sun would light up their bedroom like a hot set, dust motes floating through the spotlight of the shine and even the greys that now peppered Mulder’s temples would be lost in the chocolate ganache luster of his hair as he laid in their bed. That was where she wanted to be, laboring to bring this new child into the world -- in the bright, soft light of their bedroom, with Mulder kneading the labor pain out of her back as she kneeled on all fours in the rumple of their king-sized bed. Not here. Not amongst the pines and the cawing of crows. Not in a little bed in a musty-smelling shack with the pictures of people on the wall that were unfamiliar and long dead. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen at all.

William was again fiddling with his improvised hockey stick; he always fiddled with something when he was anxious, a nervous tick picked up when he was little. She remembered him crawling into bed with them when he was five, a thunderstorm outside or a bad dream. He would tuck himself into Scully's side, and she'd tilt her head until her cheek rested against the hard round of his skull, breathing in the inky smell of his wiry hair, his compact little body tight against her. He had Mulder's long, elegant feet and piano playing fingers, and he would play with the buttons on her pajamas and suck his thumb and rub his face into Moo, the stuffed cow, the fur of which was worn and well-loved and smelled like his sleepy breath. How she'd longed for those days as the kids had gotten older. How she worried for this new little one coming into this particular world.

Evening was falling outside, the long light through the pines running shadows through the small windows of the cabin.

"Will, can you throw another log in the stove?" she asked. The cabin was cooling quickly and Mulder and Lily would be back at any time and probably chilled right through.

"Sure, Mom," said Will, setting down his stick and moving to the potbellied stove, slipping on the worn and singed oven mitt that one needed to wear to grab the handle to open the small door. He threw in a couple pieces of wood until the flame began to roar, licking up the black sides of the feed chamber. He closed it and gave her a smile, looking at her kindly. "Are you okay, Mom?"

She could feel what she took to be a contraction coming on slowly; they were still pretty far apart and not yet at the stage where she would disappear inside of herself to get through the pain.

"I'm-"

The door to the cabin opened then, and Mulder and Lily stumbled in, rubbing their hands together and griping about the cold.

Mulder came over to her and kissed her forehead gently, his lips cool from being outside. He smelled of fresh air and woodsmoke and rubbed his hands up and down her arms once.

"How'd it go?" she asked, ignoring the growing pressure on her womb.

"Okay," Mulder gave her a clipped smile. "I got in touch with the guys, but the connection was terrible. Looks like Darlene will be okay. Otherwise, not much information was relayed one way or the other. We'll try again tomorrow."

She nodded at him. By tomorrow they would likely need to request some kind of medical help. Not sure who they could contact or who they could trust, she tried her best not to despair. She thought of her first labor, with Lily, how Mulder had stayed up with her all night. The drive to the hospital in the dark hours -- the forgotten sandwich on their dashboard, his face and how it looked each time a streetlight flashed upon it.

William's labor had been long and scary -- full of complications and made worse by the fact that Mulder wasn't with her. But she remembered when they placed the baby on her chest, the warm little bundle of him so much heavier than he looked. She remembered how his skin was still purple and mottled. She remembered his serious little eyes and his sweet grasping hand, the damp curled wisp of his marigold hair.

She had gotten through that. She could get through this. With Mulder beside her, sometimes she felt as if she could do anything.

"I'm going to heat up some water," Mulder said, and she could hear him trying to infuse his voice with optimism, "make some soup."

She smiled at him. Nodded. She knew she should eat something and try to get some rest. There was still time, she told herself, there was still time.

XxX

She had actually fallen asleep. After eating a bit of the soup, she'd lain down and closed her eyes and when she opened them, she was met with nearly absolute darkness. Only the glow from the small window of the feeder door on the stove issued forth any light, but it was paltry and she could still barely see her hand in front of her face.

She was alone in the small bed and could hear the heavy breathing of Mulder and their children from the bunk room. He must have decided to leave her be when she'd fallen asleep, and she was grateful. The tightening pain around her middle had awoken her and it squeezed until she gasped. It took her by such surprise that she almost didn't hear the scraping at the door of the cabin, the thump that followed.

She looked up just as the door to the cabin burst inward and she was blinded by a flash of light. She heard the action of a pistol cocking back.

“Do not move,” said an accented voice laced with venom.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Lily didn’t know what was happening.

She awoke in darkness and chaos -- to the scraping of furniture in the beam of a flashlight, her father's harsh swearing and the smell of apocrine sweat.

"Dad?!" called Will, and Lily heard the harsh sound of a blow to a body followed by a grunt. More scraping, the sound of a struggle and then a gunshot rang out. Lily jumped so high, she found herself standing.

“Mulder!” her mother cried.

“Everyone okay?!” from their father.

"Shut UP," hissed a voice thick with accent, and everything stopped. The beam of light finally stopped swaying and fell on her father, who was wincing and touching a hand to his lip, which he pulled away to look at -- the crimson smear of blood like neon in the light.

The generator hummed on the other side of the wall, the only sound in the silence that followed. And then Lily heard a scrape and the overhead light was switched on, blinding her momentarily. When she pried her eyes open again, she took everything in; a grizzled man with a long nose and close-set eyes stood in the open doorway of the cabin, his cheek red and swollen, pointing a gun at her father, her mother just behind him, sitting on the cot near the stove. Her brother was standing just beside where she stood in the bunk room, his eyes wide in shock.

The gunman turned to look in her direction, then nodded his head at her parents.

"Both of you," he said, "in here, now."

She and Will, both a bit dazed, made their way silently to their parents, where their father reached an arm out and pushed them behind himself.

“You guys okay?” he whispered.

"Weapons," the gunman said. Their parents traded a look, and Mulder moved the few steps to the kitchen, where Scully's Sig was sitting on the kitchen counter. The gunman took a step closer to them all and aimed his gun directly at Will, who inhaled sharply.

"Easy," her father said, and ejected the clip from Scully's gun and handed them both to the man, who examined the pistol closely before shoving the gun and clip into a pocket in the back of his pants.

"Where's the other one?" the man asked.

"Left it downstate," Mulder said, raising both hands. "That's all we have."

“Lift up your shirt,” the man said, and Mulder did as he asked, turning around to show he wasn’t armed.

The man narrowed his eyes and then looked about the room, his gaze coming to rest on the rifle that was perched on the deer rack on the far wall.

"Get that down," the man said, "bring it over here."

Mulder, moving slowly, carefully and purposefully pulled one of the old chairs from the small dining table over to the deer head and attempted to lift the rifle from where it rested. It wouldn't move. He pulled harder.

"It's wired on," he said, "it won't budge."

The gunman took a moment and moved his jaw around, assessing.

"Then leave it," he finally said, "that thing hasn't fired in twenty years."

Mulder stepped down off the chair and moved back, putting himself, once again, between his family and the gunman, who glanced at his watch. Then, keeping his eyes on the Mulder family, reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He fiddled with it for a moment and then swore.

Her father, in his most soothing voice, said, "There's no signal here."

The man shoved the phone back in his pocket. "Doesn't matter," he said, checking his watch again. Then, he pointed the barrel of the gun briefly at the dining table. "You three, sit there."

Mulder didn't move, and Lily and her brother both looked to him. Lily didn't want to do anything without his okay, and the moment was tense as a piano string.

"Mulder," her mother finally said shakily. Her father looked to his wife and she looked back. Finally, Mulder moved to sit at the dining table, and Will and Lily followed, gingerly sitting down.

The gunman took a step toward Scully and Lily felt her father tense next to her.

"So," the man said, pointing at her pregnant belly, "the miracle child." He pronounced it like meericle . "You have been a hard woman to find."

Scully said nothing.

"What's your name?" Mulder asked from the table, drawing the gunman's attention.

The man stood for a moment, his eyes blank. Finally, he said, "Luis."

“Luis, what are your intentions for my family?”

The man looked at him. “For now, nothing. For now, we wait.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

The wind picked up as the day wore on, rattling the windows and pushing at the outside of the cabin in a dull roar. She had not had a contraction for an hour, and the last few had been dull. Perhaps it was Braxton Hicks after all.

She thought how fitting it was to be at a hunting camp when, for the last nine months, she’d felt like prey. Every day the fear would work at her, wending its way through her veins like ichor.

The man who held them, Luis, didn’t talk much. He sat by the door, silent and grave, with one hand wrapped around the handle of his Glock. He would check his watch occasionally and scowl. Every now and then he would pace. Eventually he let the kids go into the bunk room, obviously not thinking them much of a threat. He was waiting for backup of some sort, and the only thing Scully thought was at least it was buying them time. Time for what, she wasn’t sure.

Scully looked at her children through the room’s doorway, sitting next to each other on a bunk and was reminded of the old adage: “to have a child is to give fate a hostage.”

"Luis, do you have children?" Scully asked the man before her, her voice like a bell peeling through the silence of the cabin. She could tell she had surprised him. He looked at her for a long moment but did not answer. He looked away.

She thought perhaps if she connected with him he might be reasoned with, but he was cold, his mood foul.

Scully reached for Mulder’s hand and held on tight.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The intense heat coming off the wood burning stove in the main area of the cabin did little to heat the bunk room. Lily and William sat together on one of the lower bunks, taking solace in both proximity and shared warmth.

The man, Luis, stood in the center of the room. His nose was bleeding less now, but his face was swollen and red, and he seemed to get angrier with every passing minute.

Their mother was standing, leaning against the back of one of the kitchen chairs. She looked miserable. Their father was sitting in one of the other kitchen chairs, eyes swinging perpetually back and forth between the gunman and his wife. He was as tense as a coiled spring, and Lily worried he would make a move that would get him shot. Luis still had the gun trained on him.

In the tumult of the attack at Darlene's house and their ensuing escape north, Lily had forgotten about the cell phone that Darlene had given her. When she found it later, she left it off and shoved it deep into her go-bag.

“I have a phone in my backpack,” Lily finally said to her brother in a whisper.

He turned his head sharply to look at her.

“What?” he kept his voice low, “I thought Dad left them all out in the car.”

Lily’s eyes remained on the mercenary and her parents, but none of them turned toward where the kids sat in the bunk room. Lily suspected that they couldn’t hear them over the roaring, crackling fire in the stove and the wind pushing at the cabin from outside.

“He did,” she said, “I have another. Darlene gave it to me.”

“You have a burner?” Will said earnestly, his eyes round and his look impressed.

Will’s eyes suddenly took on disappointment.

“There’s no way we’re getting a signal. Dad had to go all the way out to the road and even then he said service was shoddy.”

“So we go to the road,” Lily said, shooting looks into the other room.

“How?” Will hissed, his nerves finally catching up to him. “Just stroll past the pissed off merc with a gun?”

Lily shook her head and pointed toward the far corner of the bunk room, to where a few bits of leaves had blown in from outside.

“We wait until Mom has to pee again and then we go through the wall,” she whispered. The man had been letting their heavily pregnant mother use the outhouse, but he always took their father with them and held the gun on him outside while she used the facilities. He padlocked the kids in the cabin when he did so. Lily could see the fading autumn light coming through a crack in the far corner. The wall was weak with age and weather.

“You have some Hulk powers I don’t know about?” Will said.

“Look Will, the sun is shining through it. I’m betting money the wood is totally rotted out,” she said, “we move two boards and we could both fit through there.”

Will looked skeptical.

“I don’t want to leave Mom,” he said.

Lily reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Listen,” she said, “if we take ourselves out of the equation, Dad has a much better chance of protecting her. If he doesn’t have to worry about us, maybe he can do something.”

Will bit his lip, thinking.

“You think?” he said.

“Yes,” Lily hissed, sensing him coming around to her way of thinking. “Go put on another sweatshirt and whatever else you have in your bag. We can hike out to the road and get a signal. Call for help. But it’s going to be cold.”

The cold was already pushing at them from the outside walls of the bunk room.

She slipped off the bed and over to her bag, quietly pulling out the winter hat that she’d had wrapped around the phone. It was a cheap little Nokia -- old and barely capable of texting -- but Darlene had given it to her for a reason. Hopefully it had held a charge well; she’d kept it switched off. She wouldn’t turn it on until they were out by the road. She hoped like hell the archaic little thing could pick up a signal.

She threw on another sweatshirt and the knit hat and once again glanced at the door to the main room. The man Luis kept glancing at his watch. He didn’t seem the least bit interested or worried about the two teenagers in the bunk room -- Lily hoped he would continue to underestimate them.

She glanced over at her brother who was pulling on a fleece jacket and shoving a pair of wool socks into his pockets, and then moved surreptitiously to the far side of the room, pushing experimentally at the wooden wall of the cabin where the crack of weak sun shone through. It gave, easily.

She nodded at her brother. They could do this. They just needed to wait for the right opportunity, which came about twenty minutes later when Lily heard the low words of her mother asking to once again use the restroom.

Once they heard the click of the padlock on the front door, she dropped to her knees and pushed on the wall in earnest, the old construction tack paper disintegrating in her hands. The outhouse was on the opposite side of the cabin -- they had to be fast. The boards on the outside of the cabin were so rotted and moist that she met little resistance when she pushed again, and a small part of the board popped off with barely a sound and thunked to the leaves outside. If they were careful, they could get out without anyone noticing they were gone until they were well away and into the surrounding woods. Will dropped to his knees next to her, eying the small hole in the wall.

“Whoa,” he said.

“Help me,” Lily whispered, and she began pushing at the boards with more desperation.

Will grabbed the edge of the hole and started pulling it in, and after a moment it snapped off with a crack which sent him sprawling backwards onto his butt, a piece of the board still in his hands. Wind started coming in through the hole, blowing in leaves and other debris.

Lily looked to the doorway of the bunk room, ears tuned to listen for the scrape of the padlock on the cabin’s door. The hole in front of them was probably about two feet by one foot. One more chunk of board coming off and they could probably scramble through. They pried at the next piece in earnest, but it was drier and much stronger than the first piece had been. Her heart was hammering in her chest --  they were running out of time.

“Here,” she said, shoving the cell phone into Will’s hands, “take this. You’re smaller than me. If I can get one more piece off, get through the hole and run like hell.”

“Lil-” he said, leaning back as though he were about to argue with her.

“Do it,” she hissed at him, once again looking to the doorway, “I’ll be right behind you.” She heard a thump from the cabin’s door.

William shoved the phone into his jeans pocket and looked at her, his face pale. Lily reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

“For Mom,” she said, and he nodded.

She assessed the board in front of her and pushed hard with her legs. It cracked under the pressure, the sound of each splintering seeming to ring out like a gunshot. Will glanced nervously at the door, and she reared back and gave the board one more sharp kick, sending it flying outside with a loud clatter.

She heard a sound of alarm from the main room as the cabin door burst in and Will dove easily through the hole, shimmying outside quickly. She heard the clumping of boots coming toward the room, and dove headfirst through the hole, the sharp edges of the remaining boards catching on her sweatshirt and holding her fast. Her hands clawed into the mulchy substrate of the forest floor, giving her nothing to push or pull against.

A shout rang out behind her, followed by two gunshots. She kicked out with her feet, the boards scraping her lower back raw and then she was through and free. She scrambled up from hands and knees and took off in the direction of the county road, running as fast as she could -- the wind whipping fiercely at her face, the skin of her back on fire.

XxXxXxXxXxX

“Fuck!” Luis hissed, stumbling back into the room, smoke from the nose of the gun still leaking out of it.

Mulder’s gut was still in his shoes, blood thrumming in his ears, bowel-loosening fear for his kids running roughshod through his heart.

Scully’s eyes were wide with terror as she looked between Luis and Mulder, her mouth open in a round O.

“Your fucking kids are gone,” Luis said, his accent getting thicker with the force of his fury. He was bouncing the Glock angrily against the side of his leg.

Mulder felt a wild rush of relief and had to stop himself from outright grinning.

“Good luck to them,” Luis then said after a moment, his voice returning to the oily slickness of a man used to getting what he wanted. “They’ll probably freeze to death or get mauled by a bear. I still have what I need.”

At that he looked to Scully and smiled smugly, and Mulder’s relief turned back to worry.

The mercenary appeared to be waiting for something or someone, most likely transportation to whisk Scully off to God knows where to do God knows what with her and the baby. Mulder thanked whatever entity was responsible for getting his other kids out of harm’s way. He now only had Scully and the baby to worry about -- he was more than confident that Lily and Will could take care of themselves, so long as they stayed out of the way of whoever was coming to assist Luis.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Lily tore through the forest, expecting at any moment to hear more gunshots or the sound of the mercenary pursuing them, but she heard nothing but the sound of her feet churning through the duff and her own breath and heartbeat, pounding in her ears. She avoided the overgrown path that led to the cabin, instead running through the forest alongside it. When she felt she could run no more, she slowed and stopped, leaning her hands on her knees to catch her breath. She had not run since completing varsity cross country the fall before, and her lungs burned from the effort. Will, who had been consistently playing hockey or some variation thereof pretty much since he turned 10, was hopefully far ahead of her.

Keeping the path to her left, she knew she was headed toward the road, though the daylight was waning. There would be no one on the seasonal road that hit the path from the cabin -- they would have to hike all the way out to the county road -- and even then she worried that there might not be a car for hours -- even days -- it was as remote a place as she had ever been.

The skin of her back had begun to hurt less, though it occasionally stung when brushed with the tee shirt she wore under her baggy sweatshirt. Her mouth was dry and she had a headache from the adrenaline surge -- and, she suspected -- dehydration.

Eventually she passed the CR-V off to her left through the trees, parked where they had left it in the middle of the forest, inert and dark, a membrane of dirt and leaf detritus built up on its wiper blades.

The forest around her seemed a darker shade of brown, as if she were in a horror movie and the director had swapped out a gel to give everything a more sinister feel. Tree branches creaked as wind blew through the upper branches and the only other sound was the hollow rat-a-tat of a woodpecker doing its duty somewhere far away. Lily pulled the loose sweatshirt tighter around herself and trudged on with her head down.

She heard a branch or twig snap from ahead of her and froze, eyes and ears attuned to any sign of movement. Another broken twig and then she heard the whisper-shout "Lily!"

"Will!" she called out, trying not to do it too loudly.

Then it was all crashing twigs and shuffling leaves and her brother broke through a line of bracken to her right and practically tackled her with a hug.

"Oh my God, Lily," he said, breathing hard, "I didn't think we were going to make it."

She pushed him away from her so she could catch his eye and said, "I did. I knew we'd make it. We've got more to do, though, come on."

With that they kept trudging through the woods in silence, until finally they spilled out onto the seasonal road that was really no bigger than a two track.

"Give me the phone," she said, turning to her brother.

He reached down into his pocket and pulled it out.

"I haven't been able to get a signal yet. I've been trying."

Lily looked down at the display. The old Nokia screen read "No Service" and showed barely half a battery's worth of charge.

"Okay," she said, "I'm turning it off. We need to save the battery until we get to the main road." She pushed the phone into the kangaroo pouch on the front of her sweatshirt -- it was a Michigan State hoodie that she'd borrowed from Travis. If she stuck her nose into the collar and huffed, it still smelled like him.

She took a deep breath and tried to center herself. "Come on," she said after a moment, "let's go."

XxX

Darkness had fallen by the time they hit the pavement of the county road. The moon was half full and the little light that it provided turned the shadows menacing, each dark space a void of whispered threat. The temperature had dropped with the sun, and they could see their breath in front of themselves, standing on the side of the road. Will's shoulders were hunched and he had his hands crammed deep into his pockets for warmth. He'd been sweating when she found him, which was now coming back to bite him.

Lily was holding the phone up above her head, walking up and down the pavement, trying to get a signal.

"Anything?" Will said hopefully.

"No," she sighed, dropping her arm. She once again flicked off the power button and pocketed the phone. They were now down to about a quarter's worth of battery power.

She reached back to flip the hood over her head and pulled the strings tight. Will appeared to shiver, once.

"We should probably hunker down. Close to the road, in case a car comes," she said. Her brother nodded his head miserably.

The embankment next to the road wasn't deep, but it was wet, so they had to hop across it. Lily slid down the trunk of the first big tree they came to and Will sat next to her, leaning into her side for warmth. She put her arm around her brother and squeezed his shoulder.

"My sweatshirt is pretty big if you want to try to share it," she said kindly.

"You mean like our Get Along Shirt?" he chuckled.

Their father had once, when they were much smaller and fighting almost constantly, taken one of his old grey tee shirts and put both kids inside of it side-by-side, each with an arm out one hole. They'd had to wear it for twenty minutes, and while they had stopped physically fighting (it had been admittedly difficult to do so with only one free hand), they had instead complained so loudly and vociferously (the teamwork their father had been ironically pulling for) that he whipped it off their heads after ten minutes and never forced them to wear it again. Their mother, bemused and watching from the kitchen, had never said a word.

Lily laughed out loud. "Something like that," she said.

"Nah," he said, "I'm okay." He shivered once in counterpoint and pushed himself a little further into her side.

XxX

When the grey dawn broke, they both stood and stamped feeling into tired, cold feet. They hadn’t slept much and had yet to see a car. They were hungry, thirsty and each a bundled coil of nerves.

"Do you think we should hike out? Down the road? See if we can get a signal?" Will asked. His wiry copper locks were plastered to his head on one side where he'd been laying against her.

It was then that Lily heard a distant hum. She and Will moved to the edge of the trees, and she leaned slightly out to try to get a look at the approaching vehicle. It was a grey van, pulling a trailer that had two ATV four-wheelers strapped to it.

"What do you think?" she asked her brother. The van was coming on fast and if they were to try to flag it down for help, they'd need to do so in the next few seconds.

Will nodded at her, and they both darted out of the tree line simultaneously, waving their arms in the air. The van slowed as it approached and Lily saw the driver's side window come down. It rolled to a stop about ten feet away from them and a man leaned out and gave them both an assessing look.

"You guys okay?" he asked.

"We're-" Lily started and then stopped herself. "We have someone at our camp who requires medical attention. Can you call 911?"

"Sure, I can do that," the man said, and then pulled out a phone. He leaned it away from his ear and waved them closer to his vehicle. When the call appeared to connect, he leaned back into it and said, "Hi yes, I've got a medical emergency here at... Christ, where are we? Uh, M-95 about ten miles north of Felch Mountain... Yeah... I'm not exactly sure, I got some kids on the side of the highway here... Uh-huh... Okay... You bet."

He disconnected the call and lowered the phone. "The dispatcher wants y'all to wait here until they can get the Sheriff and ambulance out here. You guys want to wait in the van? It’s cold and I got some water and snacks..."

Lily was about to refuse when she heard Will's stomach growl loudly.

"Yeah," she said, "okay, thanks."

The man leaned over and unlocked the passenger door as they approached and rolled down that window as well.

"Sorry," he said, "got the back full of hunting crap. Hop on in."

With a hand on the door, she thought about just asking the man to hand them a bit of food and water, but Will looked so cold and miserable that she opened the door and swung herself up and into the seat. Will followed her, and they sat cramped together in the passenger seat, which was at least fairly substantial in size.

The man handed them each a bottle of water and a Slim Jim from a cooler just behind his seat and nodded at the door.

"Can you close that behind you? I want to pull us off the road."

Will did as the man asked, guzzling the water and ripping into the meat stick, chewing loudly. The man nudged the van forward, but instead of immediately pulling off the road, he drove a ways down it, though not fast.

"Hey, mister," Lily started to say, studying him. He was roughly their parents’ age, with dark thick hair and an almost feminine nose. He wore black tactical pants and a black jacket, and emerging from just below it, Lily recognized the bottom of a holster. It was the same model as the one her mother carried. When she looked back up to find the man's eyes, he was holding a gun aimed right at her face. Will had yet to notice, busy as he was stuffing his face, and he only looked up when the driver pulled into the entrance of the two-track that led to Camp Hi-Early. Will's face went ashen.

Lily, her guts gone liquid, cleared her throat. "You didn't call 911, did you?" she asked, and the man's face pulled into a slow menacing smile.

"No," he said, "I didn't."

[enternalempires]

What She Learned

Jasonette fic, a lil hurt/death, a lil romance, and I like it so... (also can someone please explain to me how to add the thing that I can make it so yo guys can click ‘read more’ instead of being forced to scroll past the whole thing???)

7-years-old and Marinette is told by one Chloe Bourgeois that she will never be worth anything in life, because ugly little girls like her don’t deserve attention. She’s pushed to the ground but she does not cry at her split knees or the scraps stinging on her palms; she stands up and she doesn’t talk back but she returns from school to a warm house and caring parents.

Her soulmate mark appears a month later and her bully spends a month sneering at the Phoenix resting against the inside of her wrist, dancing in reds and darkness and resurrection.

A week later, she learns that there are more important people to listen to than those who make her cry at 8 in the morning.

9-years-old and Marinette thinks that the blonde mayor’s daughter is the worst person she will have the unfortunate chance to meet. She gets insulted and glared at and has a hard time making friends but she is strong and she is kind and she will continue to stand even if she doesn’t know how important it is to get up after you fall.

She’s having dreams of dark streets and color nights; of dark gargoyles hanging off buildings, dirty-faced children, a city drowned in fear. She sees the face of a dizzy woman and an angry man and she wakes up terrified because there are bruises on a body that is not her own and the ache of an empty stomach underneath their palms. When she looks into a mirror there is a boy with a too-serious expression for such a young face and eyes blue enough to drown her in the sadness there.

She learns that there are some children out there who never had the chance to learn kindness before they learned how to survive.

10-years-old and Marinette is shoved into a row of lockers by a boy she doesn’t recognize, her pink dress and pigtails sneered at until tears fill her eyes. She doesn’t know how to defend herself  but she tries until she’s shoved onto the school’s grimy floor and breaks a finger trying to catch herself.

She does not cry, she does not say sorry, she does not think that it is fair for her teacher to say, “Boys will be boys,” instead of “I’m sorry you got hurt on my watch.” She will continue to stand up for herself even after a broken wrist.

She asks her parents about the nightmares, about the boy with blue eyes and an empty stomach; they tell her about her soulmate and they tell her that one day, she is going to meet him and love him how their parents loved each other.

13-years old and Marinette does not understand the word sacrifice but she is about to learn. She flinches at the sight of magic-tainted earrings and feels her fingertips run cold with insecurity— because she never wanted this, she didn’t want to be a hero and she didn’t want to be in charge of saving people when, in the past, she never knew how to save herself.

It has been a year and she starts to see flashes of a man in black and a large house that feels too clean to be tainted, too open to be safe. She sees the reflection of a boy in red, green, and yellow and feels the comfort of the heavy books underneath his fingers.

He never got the chance to be smart before, never got the right education, never learned something unless it helped him stay alive— and she goes to sleep smiling because even though he’s not quite happy, at least he’s safe.

15-years-old and Marinette is dreaming of a man in green and purple and she’s sobbing because— he’s getting hurt and she’s watching from his eyes and she can’t do anything about it. He cries out for his father, for the man promised to be there, and he dies alone and staring at a bloody crowbar, his blue eyes going dull in the reflection of his own blood.

She wakes up screaming and feeling empty and with the Phoenix on her wrist looking like nothing more than a pile of ash, red feathers and glowing eyes going blurry and dark. There is not enough light in the world to make her chest hurt any less and her parents hold her as she cries but don’t speak; there is nothing that could be said to comfort someone in the face of a loss like this.

She learns what it is like to be alone for the first time in her life and she no longer knows how to dream.

17-years-old and Marinette is standing at the bottom of the Eiffel tower, ruination around her, swirling and teetering on the edge of death, surrounding her like a wet blanket, the water of horror digging deep into her bones. She has watched her comrades die for her and she has watched them protect her with everything in them, believing that she will win. Believing that she will bring them back— and she does, and they’re safe, but nothing can change the fact that she will always remember what her loved one’s looked like dead, empty eyes staring right at her.

She did not win against Hawkmoth, not really, not when she has lost so much. She casts her cure and she returns home with the two recovered miraculouses, a heavy heart, and enough trauma to last a lifetime.

She knew what it felt like to mourn someone she never met but now she learns how it feels to grieve two people at once, even when they are still alive.

19-years-old and Marinette is staring at the fire that consumed the bakery, her home, her parents. She saw too many horrible, traumatic things that it takes a couple seconds to register that this is it, they’re not coming back. Because yes, she has seen the world end but no, the world did not end. She is used to being able to fix things that are broken in a way that makes sure they never broke but this is not one of those things and her parents are not some of the people whose lives she has the luxury of saving.

She is desperate to run and she is desperate to fight but there is no longer a battle in Paris. Her instincts tell her to go, go, run, don’t look back and don’t think about the bodies left behind, so she does and she ends up in Gotham and she ends up looking at familiar gargoyles and familiar streets and feels an ache so wide inside her heart she’s surprised it’s still beating.

She owns a small bakery on the corner of crime alley that is the only neutral ground in seemingly all of Gotham and she learns how to bake without crying at the scent of baked bread, turning her grief into comfort as she’s surrounded by her parent’s smell and memories of her childhood— she shares that comfort with any kids who come in looking for a safe place to spend the night.

21-years-old and Marinette has built herself a home; the building is old but warm and drenched in magic. She found all the other Miraculous boxes and lets the Kwamis roam free inside of her apartment, there’s over a hundred of them in total but she bonded with them all and, in return, they love her. She is the Guardian; both a monster and a protector at once.

The kids flock to her like moths to a flame and over the years she has gained all of their trust. She asks for nothing in return when she gives them food and medicine and a warm place to sleep. There’s magic on the doors that lead to rooms full of bunk beds and closets with food and medical supplies and sleeping bags and all is welcome— the kids know about the Kwamis and they know that she is safe, in a world that has taught them to fear everything, she is safe.

They call her the Guardian or Lady luck and she learns how to have a family again without being terrified of losing them.

23-years-old and Marinette has just saved one of her kids from Scarecrow. It is not the first time and it will not be the last. There are those that are terrified of her, gang leaders and villains that won’t step foot onto her land— but these are her kids, these are her people, this is her home and she will not feel guilty for protecting them.

She is polite to Batman and the other vigilantes, she has made friends with the Sirens, and she knows her way around Gotham and she knows when there is a problem that needs to be solved. She does not know what to make of Red Hood or the dreams that come with him or how her fingers tremble when one of the older kids comes through the bakery’s doors with a crowbar tucked under her arm.

She does not know how to make her mind any lighter, she does not know how to get rid of the darkness but she learns that there is such a thing as healing with time.

24-years-old and Marinette comes home from patrol and finds her balcony’s doors open and the living room smelling like blood. She sees Red Hood’s eyes for the first time and she does not cry, she does not fall, and she does not flinch. They are blue and more angry than sad and guilty— so, so guilty— but she knows them well. Her wrist burns and the Phoenix rises again from the ashes, and she no longer feels so alone.

She patches Hood— Jason, his name is Jason— up and she still does not fall over but her knees are weak, so very weak because he’s here and he’s alive and oh my God. She does not ask about the bullet wound but she asks about the sickly and tainted magic clinging to his skin. He tells her about waking up in the Lazarus Pit and when asked, she tells him about a boy in white and the moon cracked in half in the sky.

They do not know each other’s past well, they do not know so many things but they know that they don’t want to lose each other again. They do not know what to do next but she learns not to question it because her soulmate is alive and that’s good enough for her.

26-years-old and Marinette is getting married under a sky full of stars and the hands in hers are warm and there’s nothing cold about her life. She has her home, she has her kids and bakery and she has her Kwamis. She has Jason and he isn’t gentle but he is kind and he knows how to hold her just right when she feels like falling apart. She is kind and soft and knows how to hold him when he feels like the madness is getting worse again.

She is happy for one of the first times in years and she knows that, despite it all, she’d go through it again if it meant she could end up here; happy in her husband's arms and cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.

She has learned a lot and she’s not even 30, but she has learned how to love and how to be loved and how to always get up when she falls. She knows how to stand, feet firmly planted into the ground, and she knows how to not let herself get blown over when things get too hard.

But if she did happen to let herself fall?

Well, now there’s someone there to catch her.

[wreathedinscales]

shoutout to @grogusdads for their 100% accurate headcanon about Din Djarin being Ultimate Dad as Mand’alor. we’ve never talked, but you share many headcanons with me :D

anyway here’s din realizing, oh wait, he’s actually a??? ruler???? :O

()

1. Guards?

Without Grogu, Din makes it his purpose to help reclaim Mandalore. And attempt to provoke Bo-Katan into challenging him.

This time, he thinks, he's got her.

"Do you know anything about ruling?" Bo-Katan snaps.

Din once again holds out the Darksaber. "You're welcome to do it yourself."

But no. She just rolls her eyes and tries once again to fix his posture. Because apparently just standing straight does not a ruler make.

Mandalorians answer the call. Not all of them, but enough to start rebuilding. Din doesn't know about ruling, but he can organize a few supply runs and a roster. He takes mental notes of names, strengths and weaknesses. Nothing he hasn't done before.

About two weeks into this, Din notices two Mandalorians following him. Both have predominantly red armor with identical wing-shaped markings on their helmets. Kai and Kol, Din's inner records supply, sisters who grew up in a covert not quite as traditional as Din's, but their background is similar enough that Din's found common ground with them. They're some of the best at stealth, great for off-planet supply runs.

Din looks around at the small crowd. It's still somewhat staggering, seeing so many Mandalorians in broad daylight. He still catches himself scanning for Imps.

"Inventory's still scattered, and you're light on your feet," he says, "See what you can find in the palace."

For once, the sisters don't nod and walk off. Instead, they glance at each other, then look back at din with helmets tilted.

"We already have a task," Kai says slowly.

"Then why are you following me?"

They share another glance.

"We are your guard," Kol says, matching her sister's voice.

Din's so surprised he says, "What?" Then he shakes his head and adds, "Did Bo-Katan put you up to this?"

"She approached candidates," Kai says, "We volunteered first."

Din puts his hands on his hips. He's genuinely at a loss. "Why?"

They're attracting a small audience. The sisters' stunned silence doesn't help.

"You are Mand'alor," Kol replies blankly, "Our planet is not without dangers. We must protect you."

...oh.

Hm.

"Your efforts are best suited helping rebuild," Din tries, "I don't see any danger getting past all of us." He gestures to the rubble that was once the capital. "Help our people first."

More silence. For the first time in years, Din actively stops himself from fidgeting.

It becomes quickly apparent that they are not moving. But guards not listening to him is something he's used to.

"Okay, how about one of you stays with me?"

Kol and Kai stare a bit more. Then they bow, and Kai heads to the city.

"Okay," Din says again, "I guess if you're staying close, you might as well help me look over our supplies. We're still short on materials."

He turns on his heel and hopes everyone will stop staring. Fortunately, inventory takes focus. After some hesitation, Kol shoulders her staff and joins him.

Two hours later, Din is satisfied he's done all he can. He passes the datapad to Hrush, who's unofficially record-keeper with how quick they are at it. Their brain's the size of Mandalore, and their fingers fly over the screen.

Next batch.

Din looks over his shoulder. With any luck, Kol will have caught the hint and gone back to work.

He finds another Mandalorian walking beside her. Jaz, fought in the Purge, follows Bo-Katan's version of the Way, Fennec-level shot with her two blasters. Her muscles make her tower over Kol.

Din stops. They stop with him.

He sighs. "Fine. Jaz, you can lift two crates at a time, yes?"

Jaz balks a bit. After a moment, she says, "Yes, Mand'alor."

"Good. Kol, get those open while Jaz and I get the rest. You can. Multitask."

Din would really, really like everyone to stop staring.

2. Palace?

"What?"

Bo-Katan raises an eyebrow. "The Mand'alor needs his throne."

They're standing outside the palace ruin, Bo-Katan's helmet under her arm and Din glad his own hides his no doubt stupid expression. Kai and Kol are, unfortunately, still following him.

"Why the hell would I want a palace?" Din asks. "We're almost done the compound. There's plenty of room."

"Yours isn't ready yet."

"I don't need a suite, Kryze. As long as I can fit, a bunk and a door will be fine."

"You are Mand'alor."

"I am Mandalorian." It's taken a bit for him to come to terms with that, after the light cruiser. But everyone else sure sees him as one, which has helped. "A door and a bunk. No. Palace."

Hrush is quiet when Din approaches them with dimensions for his bunk. He's been sleeping with various clans and families so far, and it's worked out alright. Those who don't follow the Watch's Way respect his helmet. But a bit a privacy would be nice, and if Bo-Katan insists on him having his own room, well.

"I know materials are low," Din says, "Prioritize others first. This can wait."

Hrush is a small spitfire. They are still quiet.

Din waits a beat before nodding. The training yards still need a lot of attention. He heads there next.

That night, he checks the compound's roster. There are still two groups he hasn't imposed on yet. Their community is growing. It makes him smile.

"Mand'alor?" Kai says.

Din turns and waves his hand. "You can, uh, bunk down. I'll see if Clan Gon has floor space."

Even though, for some reason, people keep insisting Din take a cot, he's won through stubbornness so far. His back hates him, but it's not the first time they've been at odds.

A familiar huff joins them. "Mand'alor," Hrush says, "your room is ready. All the way down, to the left."

"...oh."

Well, at least they've finally given up on the suite.

"Thank you," Din says.

Hrush's helmet tilts, like they're about to say something. Din waits, but whatever they had wanted to say turns into, "Good night, Mand'alor."

Din inclines his head. "Same to you."

"What the hell."

This is not a bunk. This is. This is a full on apartment.

"I said no suite."

"It isn't a suite, Mand'alor," Kai says. She actually sounds amused. "It meets your specifications."

Din turns to her and crosses his arms. The room is huge, with a damn kitchenette, table, and private fresher. The cot isn't a cot, but a full on double bed. Din doesn't even know where all this stuff came from.

"You asked for a door," Kol says.

"I asked. For. A. Bunk. This is a waste of supplies we haven't got."

"Mand'alor, we provided the bare necessities." Kai seems seconds away from laughing.

"A double bed is not a necessity. Switch it with," Din thinks a second, "Clan To. The alors need support for those limps, and their Foundlings can use the extra cot."

The sisters look at each other. Din wishes they'd stop doing that.

"As you wish," they say.

"But it's too late now," Kai adds, "Clan To retired before you."

"Tomorrow, then."

"When would you like us to do it?"

Din shakes his head. "I'll do it myself. I can lift this."

"...certainly, Mand'alor."

3. Personal Space?

Since the fresher isn't going anywhere, Din figures, fuck it, he might as well use it. It's been a pain getting up extra early for the communal space anyway. Even if the space is working just fine, Bo-Katan.

When he's freshly dressed, he reenters the main room to find Jaz setting down one of Clan To's cots.

"Your time is better spent elsewhere," Din says firmly.

"Of course, Mand'alor," Jaz replies.

Well, Din's used to a bit of mocking. What's done is done. "Then help me move the rest of this to the communal space. I just need the caf."

"Mand'alor, with respect, I will not remove necessities from your room." Jaz shifts her weight. "This will make it easier for you to follow your Way. We wish to respect your helmet."

It's reasonable. Din would be lying if he said he didn't miss his privacy. But he'd rather sacrifice some personal bubble for a Foundling's future than have this.

"Would you not do the same for another?" Jaz asks quietly.

Din sighs. "Fine. If any who follow my Creed want to use this room, let them know it's open. I'll put a lock on the door."

"A lock will be installed in an hour," Jaz says.

"Okay. We'll spread the word."

"...as you wish, Mand'alor. I'll leave you to your first meal."

Quiet follows Jaz. Complete, utter quiet.

Wow. Din...has really missed this.

He looks around. There are no windows. People won't barge in. He can trust fellow Mandalorians.

Cautiously, Din removes his helmet. The quiet is still there.

He did sleep better last night. Maybe he can let himself have this.

4. Respect?

Din whirls around, spear out, just in time for Kol and Kai to take the attacker down.

Having guards is weird, but convenient.

Din studies the Mandalorian. Armor similar to Fett's, not enough for the resemblance to be startling, as it is painted blue and yellow. Goboz, young, cocky but well-meaning, best at hand-to-hand, needs more gun training.

Caju and Vadde of Clan To are in front of Din in a second, blasters raised. It makes Din warm.

"What business have you, attacking our Mand'alor?" Kai demands coldly.

"The Darksaber," Goboz says.

Din gently pushes Caju and Vadde aside. "You're barely 23, kid. Why do you want to rule?"

Goboz starts. "How do you know how old I am?"

Din cocks his head. "You told me when we met. If you can't remember that, what makes you think you're fit to lead?"

He's not angry. But Goboz did not issue an honorable challenge. He clearly has not studied the Way enough. Din will have to have a word with his buir. No matter how old they get, a child deserves guidance.

(Child. No, not the time. Not the place.)

Din puts his hands on his hips and says calmly, "If you wish to challenge me to the Darksaber, do so honorably. This is the Way."

Voices echo, "This is the Way."

Goboz averts his helmet. "...this is the Way."

Din nods. "Let him up."

Kai and Kol step back. They keep their spears level in warning.

"Now," Din says, "do you want to challenge me?"

Goboz nods.

"As challenger, choose your weapon."

As expected, Goboz replies, "Hand-to-hand."

"Fine. I accept." Din scans the crowd. "Kryze. Since you won't challenge me, you can oversee this."

Bo-Katan's lip quirks. "Certainly, Mand'alor."

"Meet me in the training yard in ten," Din says, "I need to finalize the Foundlings' training rosters."

Goboz looks cowed. Din waits for him to walk off before turning back to Hrush.

They meet without weapons in the center. Goboz bounces lightly on his feet. Din finds himself looking forward to this. It's been too long since he's had a good fight.

Bo-Katan widens her stance. "Begin."

Goboz swings first. Din parries and goes for his blind spot. He's blocked and pushed, but he stands his ground. It soon becomes apparent that Goboz doesn't mind his legs nearly as much as he should. He's good, very good. Just not good enough.

Din trips him, shoving a knee on his chest and pinning his arms. Goboz nearly throws him off. Nearly.

"Do you yield?" Din hisses.

Goboz struggles valiantly. But he sees he's beaten. He goes limp. "I yield."

"The Mand'alor is the winner," Bo-Katan announces. The crowd cheers.

Din helps Goboz up. Goboz says, "I thought you'd be more aggressive. I did you a dishonor."

"You did yourself and your clan a dishonor," Din retorts, "You clearly know better, Goboz."

Goboz's shoulders hunch slightly. "Yes, Mand'alor." He puts a fist to his chest and bows. "I will accept whatever punishment you deem fit."

Din tilts his head. "You learned from your mistake. I hold no grudge against you. Go to your buir for punishment."

Goboz makes himself even smaller, showing his age. The next "Yes, Mand'alor" is more of a grumble.

Din revels in the buzzing of his muscles and gets back to work.

Goboz's buir, Imni, approaches him later that afternoon.

"I apologize for Goboz's behavior," she says, "I thought I taught him better."

Din shrugs. "He's young. Kids don't always listen."

Imni huffs. "You are wise, Mand'alor."

"Just experienced. My." Din swallows. "My own Foundling liked to get his paws into trouble."

Imni inclines her head. "I heard you returned him to his kind."

"I did. Now I have other Foundlings to look after."

"You honor us, Mand'alor."

Din shakes his head. "This is the Way."

"This is the Way." Imni sounds like she's smiling.

5. Children?

"They're a bounty hunter," Din explains for the umpteenth time.

"They tried to assassinate you," Bo-Katan replies for the umpteenth time.

"I've done worse in their shoes."

"But you're not in their shoes anymore. You are Mand'alor."

"I'm still a hunter."

"You are Mand'alor."

Din looks to Senator Organa, who's trying not to laugh. She resembles the Jedi strongly; it had been a shock to know the Huttslayer is Grogu's teacher's twin sister. He now knows the Jedi is called Luke Skywalker. He'd been about to find out more when a sniper got him right between the beskar.

He'll be fine, especially with the fancy tech on Coruscant. It's practically a five star treatment compared to Din's usual experience. Only now Bo-Katan is insisting the hunter be put on trial or something.

Din tries again. "Let's just talk. Find out who hired them."

"They won't leave without their reward," Bo-Katan says.

"They might be Guild. I can get in touch with Karga, get them another job."

Bo-Katan looks at him with the slightly narrowed eyes of a person who's looking at an absolute moron. Din doesn't feel like he deserves that, thank you.

"You want," she says, "to get your would-be assassin another job."

"Might not be as high, but they seem like they can take on more than one. They're capable."

Bo-Katan mouths capable. She looks to Organa as if pleading for patience.

Organa clears her throat. "Mand'alor. Would you feel the same if one of your people was shot?"

The anger is sharp and sudden. Din breathes through it. "I'm supposed to protect them. It's not the same."

Bo-Katan gestures to him. "You see what I have to deal with?"

Din balks. Organa stops fighting her grin.

"I think we should take this to the conference room," Organa says, "If the Mand'alor feels able."

Din stands without wobbling and motions for her to lead the way. He waves to a stiff Kai and Kol, and they settle behind him.

The conference room is full of seething Mandalorians.

"You guaranteed our Mand'alor's safety!" Jaz bellows, hands flat on the table. "You go back on your word so easily?"

Caju is coiled to strike. "It was a mistake to come here. We should have known better."

These are but two voices among the throng. The other senators are various shades of pale and flushed, some trying to calm the situation while others are yelling back.

"Don't suppose you can help?" Organa asks sardonically.

Din sighs. He draws his spear and hits it against his vambrace. The room cuts off mid-shout.

"Have we found out who hired them?" Din asks.

One of the senators, a human male whose hair is mussed from running his fingers through it, says, "Yes."

"And where is the hunter?"

"Captured," Vadde replies tightly, "Alive."

Din nods and heads for the nearest seat. He pauses when the Mandalorians part for him, showing the head of the table. He awkwardly changes course.

"Tell me about the employer."

"You're what."

Din punches the code for the cell. "I got you some new pucks. Together, it should be close to what this job would've paid." The door opens. "I'll go with you to your ship, make sure they let you pass."

The hunter's frog eyes stare widely. Din wonders if their species ever blink.

"You are a world leader," the hunter says, "I tried to kill you."

"So I've been told."

"You realize you should be executing me, right? Or at least sending me to max prison?"

Din huffs. "I've been told that too. I've also been a bounty hunter. You don't seem like you have close ties with your employer, which means you're only in it for the money. You're not a threat to my people."

"I could be."

"Then I'll kill you." Simple, matter-of-fact. "Do you want me to? I can think of at least a dozen ways right now."

The bounty hunter finally blinks. "...no."

"Then let's go. Sooner we get you going, the sooner I can get back to getting coordinates for my kid."

The hunter takes a few hesitant steps. Kai and Kol are pillars of ice, but they don't attack. Din starts walking.

"So, uh. The rumors about your Foundling are true?" the hunter says.

"Yep."

"Huh. You're, uh. I mean, you seem like a good dad, then."

Din's throat goes tight. "He's with his kind now. I am no longer as his father."

"...oh," the hunter croaks.

A beat.

"He is father to his people," Kol snaps.

Din whips around so fast his neck nearly cracks. Kol raises her chin, as if daring him to argue.

"We..." Din slowly starts walking again, "we take care of each other."

"You take care of us, Mand'alor," Kai says firmly.

After a few more paces, the hunter says, "I actually feel a little bad for trying to kill you."

Din huffs a laugh, still reeling. "Thanks."

As he watches the hunter take off, Din murmurs, "You honor me."

Softly, Kai says, "It is what you deserve, Mand'alor."

"And," Kol adds, "it's fun to watch when people realize you're not angry, just disappointed."

Kai shoulders her spear to put her hands on her hips, bending slightly at the waist and cocking her head. Din realizes as Kol laughs that she's imitating him. His cheeks burn when he also realizes he's halfway to putting his hands on his hips too.

When she's calmed down, Kol puts a hand on Din's shoulder. "You are as our father, Mand'alor. Let us care for you in turn."

Din has to take at least half a minute to steady himself. He's still hoarse when he says, "You can't shoot the ship."

The sisters sigh.

[spencers-dria]

Do You Trust Me?

Someone To Stay Ch. 6

Spencer x fem reader

Y/N POV:

*whack*

You smack your alarm as it goes off for the third time this morning. You look at the clock: 7:15AM. Was it later than you get to sleep in for work? Sure. Did you want to get up this early on your day off? Nope. Between JJ being the planner and Penelope's excitement for the weekend, they had convinced the the group that it would be best to get an early start. It was a several hour drive the to the lake, and they wanted to make the most of our time there.

You roll out of bed and look in the mirror. Sweats and a spaghetti strap tank...this will have to do. You leave your hair in the messy bun that you slept in. Half asleep, you fumble around for some socks and slip on some sandals. A horrific choice you know, but we're going for comfort here, not fashion. It'll be fine. You're not trying to impress anyone, and you'll fix yourself up once you get to the lake. You fully intend to nap part of the way there. You don't even bother to grab breakfast. Instead, you grab your bags you packed the night before and head downstairs. Spencer is probably waiting on you already.

You see him pulling the car up, right on time, as you make your way down the stairs. You slide into the passenger side, setting your bag down in the back seat. Reaching into a road trip bag in your lap, you pull out a blanket and pillow and curl up in your seat.

"Good morning sleepyhead" he chuckles. "Not a morning person, huh?"

You grin. "What gave it away?"

He hands you a paper bag and a coffee cup.

"Don't worry, it's green tea and honey" he reassures you, sensing your hesitation.

"I also got you a bagel."

"I don't know who's been giving you trade secrets but food is really the number one way to win me over." You glance over to see a slight smirk on his face. "How are you so awake? You had time to get ready, grab food, drive to my apartment, and you still seem more awake than I do."

"I'm kind of used to not getting much sleep." He shrugs this off as if it's nothing. You sense he doesn't intend on explaining any further, so you decide not to push him.

"I brought some snacks too. You're welcome to anything you'd like." You pull out a some goldfish, fruit gummies, and Capri suns.

He responds with a laugh.

"Ok you have the appetite of a ten year old."

You feel embarrassed for a moment until you see the smile he's giving you.

"It's cute though."

You find yourself blushing, not used to compliments. "Yeah I guess sometimes I just like to let loose, let my inner child out. Not everything has to be so serious all the time, ya know? What we do, both of us...it's stressful stuff. Sometimes eating whatever the heck I feel like helps with that. If that means chocolate milk and cocoa crispies cereal for dinner then so be it!"

Spencer gives you another smile before holding his hand out. "Alright, you won me over. I'll take a Capri sun."

You can't help but laugh as you watch him try to insert the straw with one hand and drive with the other. After awhile you decide to help him out.

"Here, let me see that." You fix the straw and hand him back the drink. "Goober" you laugh as you rolls your eyes at him.

"So what all are you planning on doing at the lake this weekend?" He asks.

"The question is...what am I NOT going to do?"

"Ugh." He rolls his eyes and laughs. "No fair. You're athletic, coordinated. You can actually do all the fun stuff."

You turn to face him with an incredulous look on your face, jaw dropped. "You're kidding me right? Me? Athletic? That's funny!" You laugh shaking your head. "Nahh I'd say we're on a level playing field. I'm not coordinated at all! I just like go have fun, try adventurous things. Like kayaking, I'm just mediocre but I still love doing it. The only sport I ever did was swimming."

"Ha! You were a swimmer, we're going to a lake, and you think we're on a level playing field?"

"Ok fair enough" you concede. "Will you at least try something new this weekend? Please?" You bat your big brown eyes at him, a technique that rarely failed you.

He feigns a look of annoyance, before a smile finally starts teasing at the corner of his lips. "Alright, alright." He throws his hands up in surrender. "But only if you help me with whatever it is we do. A swimmer and a nurse, you're practically our lifeguard for the weekend. Don't let me drown, ok?" He teases.

"Well since you asked so nicely." You give him a playful punch in the arm as you both laugh.

After a brief moment of silence you hear Spencer speak up. "Did you know that Michael Phelps is the most decorated Olympian of all time, winning 28 medals in total, 23 of those being gold medals? He swam in his first Olympic Games at only 15 years old, and won his first gold medal at 19. And you...already knew this didn't you?" He stops when he sees your eyebrows raised, giving him a slight smirk.

"Yeah Spencer" you smile, shaking your head at him. "I don't mind though. I like hearing all the cool stuff you know."

You spend awhile listening to Spencer talk about everything from Olympic swimming facts to CPR statistics and the origin of the different swimming strokes. A lot of it you don't know already, and you enjoy learning all of this stuff from him. After awhile, you unintentionally drift off to sleep.

He looks over and smiles, he doesn't mind. This happens to him quite often, and the fact that you encouraged him to share his knowledge gives him comfort. He reaches over and pulls the blanket over your shoulders. Hoping to drown out the sound of the highway, he puts on some classical music at a low volume.

You wake up a couple hours later as you hear the loud sound of gravel under the tires.

"Morning sunshine" he grins at you.

"Oh I'm sorry! I wasn't going to make you drive the whole way."

"It's ok, you got your rest. Better you be rested up and have fun today than stay awake just to drive."

"Thanks Spencer." You smile to yourself. He really was very sweet. Good friends are hard to come by, especially ones you can trust that will stick around. You secretly hope that Spencer doesn't plan on dropping you as a friend anytime soon.

You climb out of the car and take a look around. You've arrived at a modest log cabin, sitting right on the edge of the lake. It's surrounded by y'all trees, so thick that you can't see any buildings anywhere else, if there are any. You stand there for a moment taking it all. You lean your head back and close your eyes, enjoying the sounds and smells of nature. It felt like home. You grab your bag out of the backseat and make your way along a dirt path toward the cabin. You stick yourself hand out by your side, brushing the leaves on the trees as you walk by.

"You really are in your element here, huh?" you hear Spencer call out from behind you.

"Oh you have no idea. Just wait till I get in the water" you shout back over your shoulder.

The two of you make your way into what appears to be the common living room. The cabin appears to be completely wooden everywhere, floors, ceilings, walls, beams. There's rustic decor and lots of plaid, but it's done tastefully. It feels so cozy, and you love it.

"Y/N! You made it! We're in here!" You see Penelope's head pop out of a doorway. You enter a room to find two sets of bunk beds. Penelope and Alex have taken bottom bunks. JJ has her stuff placed on the top bunk above Alex. You set your suitcase in an empty corner and throw your pillow on the bed above Penelope. You feel her sneak up and pull you into a tight hug. "Hey bunk buddy! This weekend is going to be so fun!"

"I'm surprised Penny, the outdoors don't seem like your type of weekend."

"Oh don't worry honey! I brought a float with coasters and a tray for the lake! I'll be sipping on wine and tanning all weekend."

"Just make sure to wear sunscreen okay." You give her a nudge and a smile.

"Okay Nurse Y/L/N." She rolls her eyes and laughs.

"Don't worry! I brought enough sunscreen for everyone."

"Haha, of course you did Aunt JJ."

You look over to see her unpacking her suitcase and organizing her things in the drawers and closets. You decide to do the same, that way it will be easier to find all your things later. After you've all finished unpacking, Alex says she's going to take a quick nap. After getting ready in your swim wear and coverups, you, Penelope, and JJ wander over to the guys room to see what they're up to.

You peek in to see Spencer reading on the bunk above Hotch, who appears to be on a FaceTime call with his son, Jack. Rossi isn't in the room. He's probably already started organizing things in the kitchen. Derek looks like he's ready for the lake, already in swim trunks and rubbing on sun tan lotion.

"You need any help with that, hot rod?" Penelope jests.

"You know it mama."

At this response, Penelope runs quickly across to room and helps Derek to finish rubbing in the suntan lotion on his back. She looks to be enjoying it a little too much.

You and JJ stay leaning in the doorway, laughing.

You finally speak up. "I don't know about y'all, but I've been stuck in a car all day! So if you need me, I'll be out at the lake!"

"I'm right behind, ya." JJ turns to follow you.

At this, Spencer finally pops up from behind his book. "Oh umm, we're going outside now? What are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet Spencer, come with us and we'll figure it out."

You wait on him while he changes into some swim trunks and a t shirt. He stands in the doorway a bit awkwardly, hesitant to leave the cabin.

"Come on!" You grab his hand pulling him out onto the porch and down toward the lake, following behind JJ, Penelope, and Derek.

When you get to the waters edge, you see the group has already spotted a rope swing. Derek appears to be climbing into a position to jump from. JJ stops him, to test the integrity of the rope first.

Penelope watches as Derek effortlessly climbs up the rocks. "My monkey man" she smirks.

Once JJ seems satisfied that the rope won't break, Derek swings out over the water, doing a back flip before making a splash in the water that sprays everyone watching from the shore. A chorus of groans rings out, half from annoyance at the show off, half from not wanting to get splashed.

You remove your shoes and your coverup as you prepare to get in the water. You can tell Spencer is making a conscious effort to avert his gaze. You blush, suddenly remembering the girls' previous comments about how good you looked in the slick back two piece.

You quickly make your way up the rocks and grab onto the rope as it swings back towards you. Spencer gives you a concerned look.

"Are you sure you want to do that? You could get hurt!" He shouts up at you.

Instead of answering you give him a quick smirk. You back up and get a running start for momentum, holding onto the rope as you swing out over the water. You let the momentum push you out as far as it will take you, as you angle your arms and body to dive deep into the water, just like you used to off the starting block in swimming. As you feel your body dive down into the water, you angle back up and do a quick, few dolphin kicks, propelling yourself much further from the shore. When you finally surface, you're about 20 or so meters from the shore. You see the group staring at where you dove into the water, confused and concerned.

"Over here guys!" You shout at the group to get their attention. They look up to see you much further away than they expected.

"Hey, you weren't kidding!" Spencer laughed.

"We might have to have ourselves a little competition little miss mermaid!" You laugh at Derek's new nickname for you.

You do a few strokes to bring you back to shore as you climb out of the water. You slick your hair back out of your eyes as you wring your hair out.

"Alright Spencer! Your turn!"

You giggle as you grab his hand and drag him towards the rocks.

"Umm yeah this is definitely not a good idea. You clearly know what you're doing, but I will definitely hurt myself. Did you know that drownings are the third leading cause of unintentional deaths?"

"Stop being such a party pooper! Loosen up a bit. Now climb." You cross your arms giving him a look that lets him know you mean business.

"If you fall, your knight in shining armor, Y/N will catch you!" Derek shouts from his spot where he's swimming in the lake. JJ and Penelope are watching from a float shaped like a giant unicorn. Typical Penny.

"Shut up, Derek!" Spencer shouts back at him.

You can tell that he's actually nervous, and not just unwilling to participate, so you decide to climb up after him.

"How about we go together?" You smile at him.

"Can we do that?" He asks, clearly not believing you.

"Yeah! See how there's a plank of wood on the bottom here? There's room for both of us to stand. And then we just hold onto the rope. We'll back up to get some momentum, then right when we get to the edge, we'll hop on the rope ok. But make sure to let go before it swings back towards the rocks."

The look he's giving you says he still doesn't think this will work.

You take his hand in yours, giving it a quick squeeze. "Do you trust me?"

You see the anxiety wash away as he's overcome by comfort. "Yeah, I do actually" he smiles, squeezing your hand back.

"On three okay? One...two...three!"

Before you know it, the two of you are landing in the water. You both come up for air as he starts a splash fight with you. You're both giggling and splashing like little kids, but having the time of your life. You feel water peg you in the back of the head. You turn around to see Hotch and Rossi armed with oversized water guns, peeking out from behind the trees on the shore.

"Hey that's not fair! We're unarmed!" You shout at the two men.

"Come join our team!" Rossi yells back. You and Spencer look at each other confused. You look up to see Alex carrying four water guns out to the water toward Derek, JJ, and Penny.

You and Spencer turn to each other, each with a huge grin. "Oh it's on!" You say.

"It's so on!" he replies before you both make your way onto shore as quickly as possible. Hotch and Rossi hand you each a weapon and the war commences.

After a long fight, the team in the lake finally surrenders. Your team is the clear winner.

"Winner's get dinner first!" Rossi shouts before the four of you make a mad dash for the cabin. You grab your towel, guessing that Alex had laid it out for you, as you see the other ladies' towels laid out as well well. Rossi had the dinner on warmers, so it's all ready for you. As the four of you take your plates full of food to the dining table outside, you pass your opponents. A series of snickers and goofy faces ensues as your team teases them endlessly.

You felt so comfortable around all of them. For people with such serious jobs, they sure do know how to let loose and have fun.

A/N:

I hope everyone is still enjoying it! I know it's a slow burn but it's so cute right 🥰I plan on picking up right where we left off! Please reblog or comment if you liked this chapter! I love hearing feedback!

[yearqueen2000]

No Straight Roads (NSR) OC #3: Alioth Supernova

Name: Alioth Rasalas Supernova

Alias: DJ Alioth Supernova

Affiliation: NSR 

Occupation: DJ

Music Artist

Genre: Future Chillstep

Instrument/Weapon: Levitating DJ Console/Star Spears

District: Cast Tech

Place of Concert: Club Planetarium

Position: Next Charter of Cast Tech 

Species: Half-Human/ Half ???

Gender: Male

Age: 23

Overview:

Son of DJ Subatomic Supernova and Celeste and Prince of Cast Tech by fans, Alioth is a man with promising potential that will lead others to a bright tomorrow like his name. 

Appearance:

Alioth is a 23-year-old man with deep purple/black starry hair with blue hues at the edges, and parts of his hair are braided. He shares his mother's blue starry eyes. His signature hoodie carries the same three-tone shades of blue and the same white glow inside as his father's but with differences such as a big star design instead of an animated solar system. He wears blue headphones and black gloves with a white line going down to his middle and ring finger. He also wears blue pants with light blue boots. 

Personality:

He is a kind-hearted, charming, and smart gentleman who passionately loves music since he was young. He has some of his father's sense of superiority and ego, but it's not to the point where others would consider him unlikable because of it. He also shares his mother's fiery temper and cares for those around him, making sure he protects everyone. 

Relationships:

NSR

Alioth is happy to be part of NSR after his graduation and would love to continue his music projects for what lies ahead in the future. 

Bunk Bed Junction

He is best friends with Mayday and Zuke and would always visit their concerts in disguise to avoid swaying public attention.

Tatiana

Alioth sometimes sees the CEO as intimidating in her way but still respects her as an individual after learning how hard she made Vinyl City as it is. 

DJ Subatomic Supernova and Celeste

His parents are Alioth's inspiration to become a DJ in the first place, appreciating their love and support throughout his entire life as he continues the Supernova legacy. There can be times he worries about disappointing them if things don't go as he planned, unaware of the seed of fear gradually growing as he lives on. 

Sayu

He admires the crew behind the popular digital mermaid and would stop by to visit them or hang out. 

Yinu

He sometimes sightsees the gardens of Natura and would listen to her classical tracks during his study times back at the university.

1010/Neon J

Alioth finds the boys quite a handful when hanging out with them but enjoyed their company and would come to Neon J for advice. He secretly collects the dolls the former war veteran made. 

Eve

Alioth sees Eve as a strange megastar, but he surprisingly understood the meaning behind her creations. He chose to keep that secret.

Extras:

Alioth means "fat tail of a sheep" in Arabic and refers to the brightest star in the Ursa Major constellation. It also explains the star design on Alioth's hoodie, along with him saying that he "will lead everyone to a bright tomorrow."

His middle name Rasalas means "the northern star of the lion's head" in Arabic, implying that Alioth is Leo.

-His birthday is August 10th.

His major is music, besides his parents' majors in astronomy. He is top in his class and graduated as valedictorian.

He possesses both his mother's and father's fighting abilities, and when he becomes stressed or angered, he can physically grow almost twice his original height.

Orbital DJ-9000, his father's weapon of choice, will be passed to him when he retires.

The pants and boots in Alioth’s design is based from the early concepts of DJSS.

BONUS: 

[chilling-seavey]

Passchendaele WW2 Extension - Pre-War Training

A/N This is unedited and I hate it anyway but I needed to get some blurb out and I’ve been doing research for the continuation of the Passchendaele universe when WW2 comes around. I’m set for this extension timeline now I think!

Mum, Dad, and Evelyn,

Four months have gone by quickly but as my previous letters have expressed, it’s still not any easier. Training is fair and I can feel myself getting stronger with each passing day but it’s strange circumstances we find ourselves in. I can’t speak much to the status of the country, as if I could even speak to it at all since us boys know just about what you lot back home do. Oh well. Richie and I are just holding onto the few weeks we have left. Holding you to that nice roast beef dinner for when I return, Mum. Evening are still calm here; a few of the boys from our platoon have started a bit of a band in the evenings and I play piano with them once or twice – but usually only when they get a beer or two in me first, you know how my stage fright is. Anyway, I must go now as lunch is soon and then we have more training. I think today is climbing courses. All my love to you three.

Charlie

August 23, 1939

Richard set his tray on the wood table and sat down beside Charlie with a sigh, adjusting his trousers that were a size too small but he was too shy to bother alerting the higher ups that he needed a new uniform. After four months at the training camp, Richard and Charles same to see how tight military rules were and the younger of the two would be damned if he had to speak up against the officers. There was no room for error.

“The longer you wait, the worse your ridicule is going to be when you finally ask for new trousers.” Charlie said.

“I’m fine.” Richard grumbled and picked up his fork.

“You might be, but how are your future children?” Charlie teased, earning a punch on his arm from his best friend.

“Just eat your bloody lunch and mind your business.” Richard said through his small laugh himself too.

Small groups seemed to have formed throughout the countryside training camp but Charlie and Richard were enough company for each other. The young men were all around the same age and they were civil enough but the two boys just liked to keep to themselves a bit more. A few of the officers noticed and complimented them on this; stating that keeping distance was the best way to prevent it hurting more in the case of losing one of them. The new recruits didn’t want to necessarily think about that concept…arguing silently that there still wasn’t a war and that they were still going to be going home.

Corbyn was right in the sense that food was absolute rubbish and both of them had become so accustomed to their mothers’ cooking in the last twenty years of their lives, meaning they both lost a few good pounds within the first few weeks at the camp from not eating as much. They made sure to write home plenty and share their wishes for good food and comfortable beds, still counting down their six-month deployment to training before they could return home. Only two to go.

“Climbing at 13:00 today?” Richard confirmed after a few moments of silence.

Charles nodded through his bite of lukewarm peas, “Climbing range at 13:00 and if it goes well, we’ll get an extra ration so you better put your ass into it. I don’t want to sneak extras under the table to you again. I’d get my ass kicked for that if they found out.”

“I know, I know.” Richard grumbled. “I’m just not very good at climbing.”

“You never have been.” Charles chuckled.

“Maybe if I’m so shitty at this then they’ll send me go home.” Richard huffed, pushing his peas around his plate with his fork.

“We’re gong home anyway so who really cares.” Charles shrugged. He stood up from the table, pausing to lean down and steal a scoop of his best friend’s peas, and then returned his mess tray to the proper spot by the dish pit. Richard followed after him, having only finished half of his lunch, but they headed out to their barracks before they had to report for afternoon training exercises.

They shared a bunk bed in one of the single-story buildings, sharing the space with the other 24 men in their platoon, all in pairs on metal framed bunks with a trunk each for personal belongings. They were required to keep their space spotless and if even one man let his bunk become a mess, the entire platoon had to run laps around the camp no matter the weather. They learned that the hard way, but they learned it early on.

A few men were already in the bunks getting ready for their climbing exercises that afternoon and the young twenty-somethings all greeted each other casually. Richard bent down to grab his boots, grunting lightly in his tight trousers and Charlie chuckled under his breath at him.

“Mate…you’re really putting yourself through it.”

“Just two more months.” Richard said strongly.

“I dunno about that.” one of the other men said from the bunk across the aisle from theirs. “I’ve heard that Germany’s planning to invade Poland.”

“Shit luck for Poland then, ain’t it?” another man from farther down retorted.

“Shit luck for us too, mate. Britain’s got a defence pact with Poland.” the first man said. “If Germany doesn’t back the hell off, we’re going to be actually using our training.”

Richard and Charlie glanced at each other before turning back to getting their equipment together, listening into the conversations.

“Hitler’s been in discussion with the Prime Minister about negotiations.”

“Chamberlain is gonna fold under him.”

“Hitler certainly won’t. That bloke is a bloody machine.”

“I say war by Christmas. Hitler won’t listen to a measly island saying ‘no’ and we’ll have no choice by to declare war.”

“It’s more honourable to declare war rather than being invaded however.”

“Christ…I don’t want to get bloody invaded.”

“And certainly not by the Germans.”

“I wouldn’t mind taking up arms against them.”

One of the men jumped up on his trunk and clicked his tongue to imitate cocking his rifle as he held the firearm in his hands, “Show ‘em that England doesn’t give up as fast as the French did.”

The young men chipped into eager conversation about the war that seemed to be incoming but yet not phasing them and even Charlie and Richie join into their joking. The naivety of the nineteen to twenty-three year olds was obvious but perhaps that the only thing keeping them someone sane under the fact that they were being trained how to kill and survive.

On the way towards the climbing course, one of the other men rushed up beside Charles and Richard, “Do you know what branch you wanna join if war breaks out?”

“Branch of what?” Charles asked.

“Military. Army, navy, air force?”

“I didn’t know we had a choice.” Charles said.

“We do. I’m thinking navy. On the water and nice and far away from everything.” the young man smiled to himself as they trekked across camp.

“Air force sounds fun.” Richard spoke after a moment. “I’ve always wanted to fly.”

“Me too. I remember we had toy planes as boys.” Charlie smiles at the memories of them running around each other’s backyards with their small plastic planes in hand and making up all sorts of stories and games.

“That was fun until you didn’t look where you were running and crashed into a tree and got a bloody nose.” Richard teased, making their comrade laugh.

“Well hopefully you’d be a better fighter pilot than a recreational one, Seavey.” he said, slapping Charles on the arm before rushing off after their group to the course.

Richard and Charles fell into momentary silence in their memories as they joined up with he group and fell into formation in front of their commanding officer. He scowled at them for being the latest arrivals, “Gossip on your own time, gentlemen.”

“Sorry, sir.” they said at the same time, shifting to feet should width apart and hands behind their backs at attention. The roar of fighter jets streaked across the sky above them and they both looked up discreetly to watch the few planes fly over the camp, twisting right up into the clouds, unbothered in the last few weeks without war. No one knew what was to come.

[fluffymcu]

Story time

How I got into marvel

Titi- we’ve called her that since she was a baby and it stuck with everyone close to her. She’s 4-5 years younger than me. She’s about to turn 15

Val- Titi’s mom

T- Titi’s dad

David- I think he’s 14 and has a little 6 year old brother.

Rosie-David’s mom

F- David’s dad

Priscilla/Ella- 23. She’s in New York now and has a sister named Nissa, 24, who lives with her.

Myrna- Nissa and Ella’s mom

J- Nissa and Ella’s dad

Me- lol I’m 18 and only child.

Okay so first thing you need to know is that my family, Titi’s family, David’s, and Nissa and Ella’s family are SUPER CLOSE. I’m talking about we all used to go to Myrna’s house EVERY single weekend since we were kids to watch the game and eat. So me, Titi and David are inseparable. Every year we’d all go on big vacations like twice/3 times a year and have lots of fun too. We’d always get jealous because since Nissa and Ella were the oldest kids they got to invite whoever they wanted and they always get the bunk bed room to sleep in with all their friends and we’d always have to sleep with our parents when we’d rent a house 😂😂

But anyway when I was younger, about 8-9 years old, me and Titi loved to play outside and just play games and interact. So at Myrna’s house we’d be playing hide and seek and tag and stuff like that but it’s get lonely because it was just the 2 of us. So we’d always go to David and tell him to play with us but his answer was always “no I’m watching iron man. Or captain America. Or Thor.” Or any other movie at the time. And we’d both be annoyed that all he wanted to do was stay inside and watch movies.

And I remember I’d always be the one to tell him “gosh David why do you always watch those dumb movies?? All you do is watch that. You should come and play with us.” How IRONIC 💀

One time at Myrna’s house Titi was at her cousins house so she wasn’t there to hang out with me. So it was just me and David. Nissa and Ella were always there but we were never TOO close to them because they were older and hung out with their teenage friends. So it was just me and David and I remember he told me. “You wanna watch iron man with me?” And I sighed so loud😂 but I said yes because there was nothing else to do. I didn’t even pay attention to the movie tho!! All I remember were the credits rolling and the rock music 💀 and I was like “yeah it was good” lolll I didn’t even see it.

Time moved on, and in 2017 we took a trip to Colorado and we were coming back from hiking at night and as we were all getting off the big bus we rented to carry all of us, I see Nissa and Ella and her friends getting back into the bus to go somewhere. So I went to ask Ella where they were going.

“We’re gonna go see a movie.”

“Ooh! What movie?”

“Spider-Man homecoming.”

“Oh. Well can i go too?”

“Yeah just ask your parents.”

Imma be honest y’all. I didn’t wanna go for Spider-Man, I actually just wanted to go because the movie was at midnight (it was the very day the movie came out) and I’ve never been out to a late night movie that late 😂😂 so I begged my parents to let me go and they said “ok but do not leave Nissa and Ella’s side. Listen to them.”

AND SO I WENT

I remember the experience of walking into the theaters, all the movie posters and the Jurassic world movie posters and so much more.

After we got our snacks and sat in the room, me sitting with Titi and David, the movie started.

I always did like Spider-Man even though I never saw any movies. I just liked the character and idea. So in a way I guess I was always at least a bit interes in Spider-Man.

But man.... when the opening scene came on, and the marvel logo appeared playing the Spider-Man theme song.... the way the music got in my souls and I felt it coursing excitement through my veins. The actual movie hadn’t even started and yet these were the exact words that went through my head that I remember perfectly.

“Okay. I love marvel.”

Like a switch. Boom.

Crazy how just the Spider-Man homecoming intro changed my life forever. After that movie, I hunted down all other marvel movies in the internet and watched them in random order. Those movies just fed my adhd and left me FULL. so much action and so much happening it was the first time in my life that I’d been able to keep my attention in one place for long. It quickly grew to be my favorite thing ever.

Every time David was watching something at Myrna’s house, I happily joined him.

I still hate myself for not getting into marvel earlier. IT WAS RIGHT THERE ALL THOSE YEARS AND I CHOSE TO IGNORE IT.

Now I look back to the times I laughed at David for liking marvel movies. I say this again, how. Ironic. Now I’m a bigger fan of marvel than he ever was 😂 I just wish I had given it a chance then. But I’m happy I did at all. 2017 is the year that my life changed 🤩

And that’s the story time! Hope you got to learn a little more about me and my life. So in case you haven’t noticed... 😂 IM A MARVEL OBSESSED FANATIC

NO THOUGHTS, ONLY MARVEL

💙💙

[miaouerie]

whumptober 2020 ------ day 30. wound reveal

@whumptober2020​  Rebelcaptain Hunger Games AU: Cassian is Jyn’s mentor in the 70th Hunger Games. After being crowned victor at fifteen years old, Cassian is all-too-familiar with what it takes to bring a tribute home, and what becoming a victor really means.

content warnings: none

previous: day 1 / 2  / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15  / 16  / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / → read on AO3 

“And remember, Jyn: one fighter with a sharp stick and nothing to lose…”

“Can take the day,” Jyn finishes reciting faithfully.

Saw looks at her with pride, before lowering his voice. “It is my hope you’ll have more than a sharp stick in the Arena. Your mentor will be whom you rely on to improve your odds; impress him and he can get you what you need to survive. I’ve taught you plenty—but how far you get won’t be based on your fighting skills alone.”

Jyn frowns; he can only be talking about Cassian Andor. “He hasn’t brought back any of his tributes. How can I trust him to help me?”

Saw lowers his voice even further. “You can’t. He’s been in the eyes of the Capitol for too long. But he’s your only hope in the Arena. Therefore, your only hope to get out.”

-

Saw’s words rattle around in her head as Jyn lies in her bunk. The way the train car gently sways on its tracks as it speeds its way towards the Capitol could almost be soothing, except for the fact that they’re hurtling their way to near-certain death.

…no, she can’t think like that. She tells herself it’s only a reflexive fear, borne of the circumstances that she’s been forced into of all the sheer, rotten luck in Panem. If only she hadn’t gotten reaped, she and Saw would have been able to complete their mission, then abscond out of District 5 as planned. She could have been seeing her mother again in a week’s time. If only…

Well, no use in dwelling on it now. She turns onto her side facing the bulkhead, determined to get some shut-eye before the morning brings with it the next day.

And with the next day will come the next time she sees Cassian. What transpired a few hours ago comes to mind unbidden—she had thought herself clever for kissing him to quiet his words (was he really so foolish to not think about the train being bugged?), but after he spotted the Peacekeeper approaching he reacted in kind. Taking her into his arms in a false display of intimacy like that. And it worked; the Peacekeeper quickly left them alone.

But then there was that kiss before they bid each other goodnight. He didn’t have to kiss her then, did he?

Jyn forces herself to stop thinking so she can go to sleep.

-

The morning of their first full day in the Capitol has Jyn waking up to three sharp knocks on her door.

“Jyn Erso. Breakfast is in the dining room.” That Capitol accent can only belong to Davits Draven, their escort. “I’d advise you to eat before you have your meeting with your stylist.”

The stylist. Kay. She had met them and the other stylist for Joule last night when they were prepared for the Opening Ceremony. But she already knew who they were in the way that most people in the districts, from the Games’ mandatory viewing, were familiar with the faces of stylists and mentors and victors and commentators amidst the ever-changing pool of tributes. Kay’s surgical augmentations were distinctive compared to the Capitol trends that ranged between somewhat natural and grotesque; his body was covered with a matte chrome synth skin, save for his face and hands which were kept as—presumably—his own pale skin tone. His eyes shone with a luminescence in the viewing stands that she could see from the chariot as the horses pulled to a stop around the City Circle during last night’s Opening Ceremony.  

Jyn gets out of bed, selects a normal-looking outfit from the closet, and joins the rest of the party in the dining room. Joule is talking to Cassian, probably for the first time since he went catatonic at the reaping. But at the sound of the glass doors sliding open, their attention is turned to her.

“Good morning Jyn,” Cassian says, his tone perfectly placid. “Care for some breakfast?”

She sits there and eats quietly while the conversation flows around her. Compared to the intensity that radiated off of him last night, his conversation with Joule gives off the feeling of being polite yet distant; she vaguely wonders if he wrote off her district partner as she already has.

At the conclusion of their breakfast and after Draven comes to collect Joule first for the meeting with his stylist, Cassian crosses over to her side of the table and sits down next to her. “He’s pleasant enough,” he says about Joule, “but I’m not convinced he has a chance to make it out of the bloodbath if he freezes up like that again.” He gives her a wry look. “I trust that I don’t have to worry about that with you?”

Jyn knows he’s thinking about the way she slammed the cabin door shut on the train and then tried to fight her way through a squadron of Peacekeepers; she recalls the memory with a grin. “Trust goes both ways, right? I’ll show you what I’ve got in the Training Center.”

-

Draven brings the three of them down to the level that houses the enormous gymnasium they’re to train in for the next three days and leaves them there. Joule seems at a loss for what to do but Cassian offers to point out some of the more useful, rudimentary survival skill stations, so Jyn decides to take her own tour around the periphery.

There’s the weapon stations, of course: swords, spears, knife-throwing and the like. Then there’s the skill stations, like knot tying and snares and camouflage. Then she sees there are trainers available for hand-to-hand combat.

Her hands have been itching to come to blows with someone since that Peacekeeper held a gun to her head and Draven informed her, in his gratingly crisp Capitol accent, that there was no escaping the fate decided for her the moment her name was drawn in the reaping. She decided right then and there she was going to change it in her favor.

So she goes to the combat station and easily spars with a Capitol attendant there. It’s just like sparring with Uncle Saw, so with a few words and a jerk of her head she has the other trainers that were supposed to be available for other tributes join in; first, as two against her, and then she takes on all three. The sparring match finally ends when she’s knocked to the ground and a foot is planted firmly on her chest, but the grin the trainer’s giving her doesn’t seem  mean-spirited as they help her back up. It’s only while she takes a moment to fix her bun and catch her breath that she sees what an audience she’s gathered, including attention from the Gamemakers, and that’s when the lunch session is called.

Disappointingly, Cassian is nowhere to be seen when she quickly scans the people who had been watching her. But she does accept the invitation from the Career pack to sit at their table for lunch.

-

Jyn doesn’t see Cassian again until that evening after Draven comes to collect them back up to their floor in the Tower. He’s sitting in the dining room with Kay, in different clothes than she saw him in that morning. Not that she noticed.

“I heard you impressed quite a few people in training today,” Cassian says as they eat their dinner. “How was she, Joule?”

Joule has gone quiet again. He fleetingly makes eye contact between her and Cassian before he nods his head, once.

Jyn decides to save them from the awkward pause that’ll follow. “If you stuck around, perhaps you would’ve seen it.”

A look of surprise crosses his face before Cassian lets out a short laugh. “I would’ve loved to see you sweep three trainers, but I’ll have to wait and see you in the Games. It’s up to you if you want to team up with the Careers or not but you’ve certainly got their attention, both as a potential ally and an enemy; take care to remember that. I want the both of you to check out all the weapons stations to get an idea of what will be available in the Arena but make sure you spend enough time learning survival skills. And Joule…”

The stricken sixteen-year-old boy looks up.

Cassian softens his tone. “I’m doing my best to secure sponsors for both of you. It’ll pay off in the Arena but I need you to survive for that to happen, so make the best of the next two training days and then we’ll go over final interview strategy with Draven. Alright?”

Surely he must know that Joule doesn’t stand a chance, Jyn thinks. But there’s something in the set of his shoulders, giving her the impression that he’s giving himself a pep talk as much as he is to them.

-

The evening following their private sessions with the Gamemakers is when the tributes’ evaluation scores are released. For the gamblers the scores dictated the odds to bet on in macabre betting pools; for the tributes, each score was a sign of who’s a threat and who can be ignored or—for the Careers—who will be easy pickings. When Jyn’s picture is shown on the screen followed by a 11, the others congratulate her and she smiles her thanks as she thinks about Saw. Is he watching her on national broadcast? He has to be, if he’s still in District 5. Would he feel proud of her so far?

But then she has an upsetting thought: what if he’s already left the district? What if he was able to complete the mission without her and he’s already gone off to the rendezvous? What if he’s already written her off as good as dead?  

She can’t afford to think about that. After dinner she goes to the roof, wanting to get some air and privacy without locking herself up in her room. This will be the only time she’ll let herself cry, and then it’s game on. Tomorrow is the last day before the Games begin, and she’ll be spending the entirety of it with Draven and Cassian.

She finds a bench to sit down on, draws her knees up to her chest and hugs her face to her thighs. It takes a moment for the tears to come, as unused to crying as she is, but she lets out the sobs and sniffles as much as she’s able to without letting herself dwelling too much on her doubts.

When someone sits down next to her she somehow already knows it’s Cassian. He lightly touches her shoulder as if to ask permission, and when she finally peeks at him from the shelter of her arms he scoots a little closer and carefully wraps a comforting arm around her back.

They stay like that for a while until Jyn’s sure the tears have dried up. Then she asks, “Why’d you follow me up here?”

“I’m your mentor. You’re my tribute,” he says with amusement, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “But… I wanted make sure you’re alright. You’ve held up strong so far, Jyn. I know you’re committed to winning this thing.”

“I am, it’s just…” Jyn bites her lip. “I can’t help being nervous.”

“Nobody can.”

“I keep thinking about the worst.”

“…Do you want help getting your mind off of it?”

Jyn can’t help how her lips quirk up at that. “Why, are you offering?”

Cassian doesn’t hesitate. “Whatever you need. I said it on the first night; I want to help you in any way possible.”

She knows there’s suggestive intent in his words. But the way that he says it expresses a pure, earnest wish to help.

So, she doesn’t feel bad when she leans in to kiss him.

-

She can’t help but think about that last kiss and the make-out session that followed each time a silver parachute comes to her in the Arena. She’s received ten so far; in the past Games Jyn’s watched, it’s the Careers who receive the most gifts from sponsors eager to help their favored tributes win. While there were some morally repugnant people in the districts who were betting on the same tributes, ultimately only those in the Capitol could impact the odds; nobody in the districts had that much spare money to frittle away gambling on the deaths of children.

As the Games continued on, the price of sending gifts and aid increased. Even in the Capitol there was a hierarchy to sponsorship, with only the wealthiest sponsors holding sway in the endgame. The Games commentators often interviewed those uber philanthropists on the public broadcast of the Games and so Jyn even knew some of their names: Laertes Crake, Cygnus Vondel, Trimalchio Plena. Having made it this far, she wonders if any of the boons she’s received were sponsored by any of them.

It’s nighttime in the Arena. Jyn rests in the shadows of a ruined entryway, taking care to remain concealed. An unnaturally full moon illuminates the ruins of the game field; the Gamemakers made it so that each night alternated between bright moonlight and the darkness of a new moon. With each night, instead of resting, the tributes found themselves playing a deadly game of moving shadows and evasion and hunts in the dark.

Jyn wouldn’t have gotten this far in the Games without Cassian’s help; he had sent her heat vision goggles early on. The gift enabled her to evade the other tributes until more death cannons were fired, and when it came time to go on the offensive she had a frightening advantage.

But that boy from the Career pack must have gotten his hands on a pair too, because how else could he have known she was going to ambush them? He’d cut her with his blade, poisoning her with a paralytic, and she had genuinely believed she was going to die that very night. But true to her mentor’s word, the sight of a silver parachute some hours into the darkness of a new moon cut through her panic; inside was a sweet syrup that faded away the worsening stiffness in her body and left her feeling rejuvenated. She was able to get some good, actual rest for once that night.

This night hopefully she will, too. Tomorrow will be the day she has to attack the alliance stronghold, otherwise the Gamemakers might decide to set muttations on them or create some other disaster to force them into action. As she starts to doze she thinks about him. Cassian.

Going into the Games she knew she had an advantage not even the Career tributes could fathom, by virtue of being secretly trained in insurgent and resistance tactics by her uncle. But she had also known that what Saw said in their last words to each other was right: she wouldn’t make it far without help from her mentor. She would make it past the bloodbath and survive maybe a few days, but when the real challenges began she’d get killed by something or other, and there’d go any chance of her making it back to District 5 to complete the mission and get away with Saw.

While Jyn knew she must have earned some sponsors with her score from the Gamemakers’ evaluations, Cassian was ultimately the one in charge of handling them and dispensing gifts to her in the Arena. He might even have marshalled for her cause when she was in dire straits, such as when she got poisoned by that blade. Back in the Capitol he must be doing a lot for her and she can’t even begin to grasp what all of that could possibly entail; she owed him more than she could put words to.

And better still yet, after each night and day of fighting to stay alive, it felt nice and reassuring to be cared for. To know that somewhere beyond the Arena there was somebody from back home who was doing everything they could to help you. Because they believed in you. If she died in the ensuing struggle tomorrow she could at least die knowing that.

But if�� when she wins, it wouldn’t be a lie to say she’s looking forward to seeing him again. To thank him. To let him know he sustained her both physically and emotionally throughout the Games. That just thinking of their last kiss on the rooftop did something to help to temper her fears, soothe her nerves after the stress of each day, and feel more ready to face the world about to kill her.

She thinks about these things, tucks them into the warm recesses of her heart. She might be facing certain death tomorrow but she won’t let his help be in vain.

And then disaster strikes with the earthquake.

-

Time is moving too erratically for Jyn to keep up.

It had seemed immeasurably long when the earth and the Arena shook beneath her feet, sifting the crumbling ruins to dust and debris on top and around her. It was a miracle that she was still alive, that the collapse of ruins she was by had pinned her leg to the ground beneath two walls that fell to support each other. Her heart beat in absolute terror, loudly and wildly out of her chest, as she waited for the dust to settle and for any possible aftershocks to finally strike her dead.

But time sped up once more once she had freed herself and made it to the general location that the alliance hideout formerly was. One moment she was emerging from her almost-tomb and in the next moment she’s leaning against the remains of a doorway to catch her breath, hardly knowing how many tributes she could take on or how many even survived.

When that dust-covered hand grabbed her ankle she had fallen in slow motion; after the eternity of one long second she was on her back, coughing as the wind was knocked out of her. Then it took several minutes to dig out her last foe—slitting her throat had only taken a second—and longer minutes still for her to bleed out and die.

Then a hovercraft whisks her away from the Arena faster than she could blink. But when it touches down and she disembarks in a stumble, the first person she sees is Cassian.

He looked as beautiful as anyone Jyn had ever known; time slows down in the beat of two seconds but she doesn’t even make it into his arms before she feels a prick and her vision suddenly tunnels out. But she still saw him, and when she sees him still in the strange, continual twilight the sedatives keep her under she’s comforted.

-

He’s there when she wakes up.

It takes a while for the disorientation to wear off, but when it does she realizes that the warmth in her left hand is his hand holding hers, gently. Her vision’s still blurry but she doesn’t need to wait for it to clear to know that it’s Cassian sitting next to her, just like she knew it was him that night on the roof. Aside from his genuine smile he looks so flawlessly styled—manufactured—as all things were in the Capitol. She had liked the scruff on his jawline and the stubble heading down his throat from when they had boarded the train, but after they arrived  Kay had personally made sure Cassian’s facial hair was meticulously groomed. Not a hair where it needn’t be.

She wonders how long it will take to grow back once they’re back in District 5. Back home in District 5…

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“How long have I been out for?”

“Five days. The poison that Career used to paralyze you came from a muttation; they had to detoxify your blood and run a lot of tests to make sure that it was all gone. Now, how are you feeling?”

Jyn tries to answer, but the way Cassian is looking at her makes her feel a little floaty, a little warm; like maybe the sedatives haven’t fully worn off yet. But she does manage to say, “I’m feeling okay. Thank you. Really. For taking care of me in there.”

Cassian’s gaze softens to something less intense, but still profound. He looked at her the same way after their make-out session on the rooftop, so she isn’t surprised when he leans in to kiss her.

He has to prop one arm on the other side of the bed to steady himself as their lips meet. It’s soft, chaste; they meet again, and again, and then he leans in close to her ear.

“Do you remember our first kiss on the train?”

Of course she does. “I do; why?”

“Can you pretend like that for me again? Once we’re out of here?”

It’s said like a flirt, but his words snap Jyn back to full awareness of their situation: she has just won the 70th Hunger Games. She had been resting and unconscious for the past few days but once she’s discharged Kay and the prep team are going to prepare her for the Closing Ceremony. To be paraded in front of the Capitol on Panem’s national broadcast as the newest victor, with her stylist, prep team, escort, and mentor. And then she will be crowned by President Snow.

Her mind flits over all of their conversations. Are they in trouble? They had talked about treasonous things, but that was under the sound of a thousand tinkling wind chimes; she’s sure that Cassian wouldn’t have brought her there for a private talk to be eavesdropped on.

Or by ‘pretend’, does he mean how they faked a passionate moment to deflect suspicion?

That must be it; she can read in his face the plea for her to understand. With him this close to her, she notices there’s a tension to his body that belies the playfulness of his words.

Jyn nods before reaching to pull him closer to her and kiss him again. For now she wants to ease his worry; Cassian will tell her in due time, and then they can face it together. After the last two weeks Jyn is confident they can.