#it actually took me a hot minute to remember jet stars name

[demolitionw0man]

How about four?

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Edit: I forgot to mention I posted this to my Instagram with "The Kids From Yesterday" playing the background.

[cuquitalocita]

kids and car rides- feysand

AN: hi yes hello there- again, it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything so here’s something i’ve been pushing myself through for these past couple of days. this is my first time writing feysand so i’m sorry if this sucks- i have to wake up for school in... five hours... so... yeah. if there’s any typos or the plot is kinda... ?? just... cut me some slack :) anyway, hope you enjoy!

part two

~~

Feyre was going to murder her boyfriend.

No- mutilate was more like it. How and where were truly her only thoughts as she glanced around her at the full bleachers of screaming students covered in black and blue face paint. 

Dating Tamlin Hybern had been nice at first- surreal if anything. When the star lacrosse player had taken an interest in the quiet girl at the back of the class who spent her free time in an art studio, Feyre had been flattered. He had asked her out in between classes a few months ago and Feyre had managed to stutter out a blushing, yes, still reeling that the handsome blonde had even noticed her. 

But her relationship was dull and boring, lacking in color, and gods, Feyre needed to end it. 

Tamlin had dragged her to the football game, practically begging on his knees for her to come with him. Feyre had relented, not even having enough time to shower after her art class before Tamlin was picking her up. But the second they had pulled up to the school and gotten out of his truck, Tamlin had disappeared with Lucien and left her in the bleachers with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek and a promise to find her later. 

It left Feyre seeing red. The crowd raged around her as the Bats scored a touchdown, and Feyre glanced at her phone. Shit. It was seven-thirty, meaning Nesta had already left on her date with Tomas, leaving Feyre without a ride home. Elain was out with her friends, actually enjoying her Friday night as a teenage girl should, and Feyre was left alone and ready to leave. 

She had been at the game for thirty minutes, in which the sun had gone down, blanketing the sky in a twilight full of stars. Feyre would stay if only to watch them a little longer- her favorite thing to paint. But as the crowd raged again, Feyre stood up from her spot on the bleachers and began pushing her way through the crowd and back to the parking lot, ready to walk home. It was only a few miles, really, and she had her sneakers on. She could manage. 

“Feyre!” A kind voice broke through her thoughts before she was halfway through the crowd, and she turned to see the familiar face of Morrigan from French class. 

Feyre’s lips turned up into a smile at the sight of the girl and her racing heart calmed a little as Mor came closer, stopping in front of her. 

“Hey, Mor.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you hated football.” Mor’s question was innocent, lacking the judgemental tone that most people would have added on. 

“I do,” she snorted. “But Tamlin wanted me to come, so here I am.” 

Mor’s smile turned down at the mention of her boyfriend. The girl had never tried to hide her dislike for Feyre’s boyfriend, even if the two of them weren’t very close and although she should have been offended, Feyre relished in her honesty. “Either way, I’m ready to go. See you Monday, Mor.”

“Wait, do you need a ride?” Feyre smiled, shaking her head at her easy kindness. She knew she liked Mor. 

“Thanks, but it’s really fine. I only live a few miles down the road- I’ll be fine to walk. Besides, we’re not even halfway through the game. Stay.” Mor bit her lip, clearly deciding whether or not to pick a fight, but Feyre fixed her with a look that eventually had her sighing. 

“Ugh, fine. But text me when you get home. Who knows what kind of creeps are wandering around here.” Feyre nodded, squeezing Mor’s hands in thanks, and left the bleachers, stopping only when she was back in the student parking lot.  

She pulled out her phone, remembering that she came here with her boyfriend. 

>> Hey wasn’t feeling well. Getting a ride home from Nes. 

It was five minutes before he responded. 

<< sure thing- see you later babe

Feyre scoffed, shoving her phone into her back pocket. Unlike Mor, he had not asked her if she was okay and to text him when she was home safe. She had told him that Nesta had a date too- which he obviously hadn’t been paying attention to. 

Ready to start walking, Feyre patted her pockets, looking for her ID, just in case anything happened, only to find them empty. 

“Godsdamn it,” Feyre muttered under her breath, realizing she must have forgotten her wallet back on the bleachers. Turning back to the field, Feyre almost tripped on her own feet when she heard a little voice behind her say,

“That’s a bad word. And my mommy says you shouldn’t say bad words.”

 Spinning back around, she was surprised to see a little girl- no older than six staring up at her and twisting her little fingers together. Her jet black hair was pulled back into two short ponytails and Feyre swore she was one of the cutest things she had ever seen. Bewildered, Feyre stared for a moment before shaking her head. 

“Uh- yes. You’re right- I… I shouldn’t have said that. And neither should you.” The little girl just continued to look at her in silence, causing Feyre to raise her brows. Who was this girl? And why was she by herself? What kind of parent left a little girl alone at a high school at almost eight o’clock?

“What’s your name? Are you lost?” 

“My mommy says I shouldn’t talk to strangers.” At that, Feyre smiled a little bit. She bent down, putting her weight on her knees so she was eye level with the girl, and mustered up her friendliest smile. 

“That’s very smart of her. Well, how about this?” Feyre stuck her hand out to the girl who eyed it warily but didn’t back away. “My name is Feyre. I go to school here. There, now we aren’t strangers anymore.” 

The girl’s eyes widened and it was then that Feyre noticed their unique color, unlike any she had ever seen before. Her eyes were a beautiful violet, and in the reflection of the moon, she swore she could see stars in her eyes. 

The little girl took her hand, practically dwarfed from the size of Feyre’s, and she gave Feyre a small smile that had her melting just a bit. 

“My name is Thebe,” she finally said, her voice small. 

“Well Thebe, are you lost?” She nodded, looking at the ground. Feyre gently took her small hand, forcing the girl to look at her, and smiled again. She could see small tears beginning to form in the little girl’s eyes. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. I’ll help you get back. Who are you here with?” 

“My brother,” she responded, and Feyre clenched her teeth. What kind of brother left his little sister alone? With all the fighting she did with Nesta, Feyre knew her sister would never have left her alone in a public place, let alone at night. Once again, Feyre was seeing red. 

“Okay then. Is he at the football game?” Thebe nodded, and Feyre deduced that she must have snuck off into the crowd, bored with the game. She couldn’t say she blamed her.

Taking the girl’s hand in her own and trying not to sigh when little fingers wrapped and her own, Feyre led the little girl back to the raging football game. 

“Do you think you can show me where you were?” Thebe nodded and gripped her fingers tighter, pulling Feyre through the bleachers, using her as a shield from the crazy teenagers. 

Feyre saw Tamlin through the crowd and quickly averted her gaze, focusing back on the girl in front of her until they came to a stop on one of the bottom bleachers. It was surprisingly empty, other than being filled up with athletic bags and water bottles. 

Feyre frowned, following Thebe as she sat down next to one of the bags and pulled out a small jacket that was clearly her own. 

“Thebe, where is your brother?” It was then that the little girl pointed out to the field. “Your brother is playing?” Thebe nodded, leaning her small head on Feyre’s shoulder, her hair tickling her neck, and Feyre admitted that maybe she could stay at the game a little longer, even if she would eventually have to deal with one of the loathsome jocks. But her blood still boiled at the fact that her brother had left her alone. Gods know what could have happened to her if someone else had found her.

“Why did you let me walk you back?” Feyre wondered aloud. Thebe shrugged. 

“You’re pretty. My brother says you can always trust a girl with pretty brown hair.” Feyre blushed, the compliment warming her to her toes. 

“I think you’re pretty too Thebe,” she whispered. 

It was only then that Feyre realized how cold it had gotten. She shivered, running the free hand that wasn’t around Thebe up her arm, which was barely covered with a paint-stained t-shirt. Thebe only reached into the bag in front of her and pulled out a much larger jacket, one with the familiar school colors. She handed it to Feyre, who quickly realized it was a varsity jacket. 

“This is your brother’s jacket Thebe. I can’t-”

“He would share.” Feyre fixed her with a look which Thebe returned with a more convincing one. “Trust me- he would.” Another shiver ran through her and Feyre, sighed, relenting, and shoved her arms into the jacket, immediately warmed. 

They stayed there for a while, watching the game in silence as Thebe began to doze off on her shoulder. Feyre hid her smile as the bleachers creaked, announcing that another person was coming to sit. She looked up to see Cassian Guerra lifting himself onto the bleachers, a carefree grin on his all-too handsome face. The football player’s hair was pulled up in a bun and Feyre vaguely remembered Nesta saying something about him. She doubted it had been positive. 

Feyre remembered Tamlin mentioning how Cassian had gotten injured and was out for the season. It was cool of him to come and support his team. 

His hazel eyes glanced over the little girl next to him and he grinned. 

“Hey, Thee, I thought you were with Az. New babysitter?” Feyre scowled and the little girl seemed to brighten as she looked at Cassian- then at Feyre. 

“New friend,” was all she said, bringing a smile to both her and Cassian’s faces. It was then that he truly looked at her, and a spark of recognition flashed through his eyes. 

“Hey, you’re-”

Cassian broke off as a buzzer sounded through the stadium and the crowd erupted into cheers. He was grinning at her, and Feyre managed back a small smile as Thebe shoved her head into her shoulder. The crowd began emptying out, and Feyre turned to Cassian, meaning to ask what she should do with the little girl. Not that Feyre was too eager to part from her. But he had vanished, finding somewhere else to be, and Feyre huffed, waking the little girl. 

“Alright, I think it’s time we found your brother.” Feyre got up from the bleachers, taking the little girl down to the field where most of the players were still talking to each other and clanking helmets. “Okay, tell me when you see-”

“Rhysie!” 

Feyre’s heart dropped into her stomach as she realized who the little girl was pointing at. Because not ten feet from her, looking impossibly attractive in a way that shouldn’t be possible after sweating for two hours straight, was the bane of her existence. With his jet black hair and twin eyes to Thebe’s, he looked like a god made man. 

“Your brother is Rhysand Knight?” Feyre practically screeched at the little girl holding her hand. 

Thebe nodded excitedly as Rhysand jogged over to his little sister who had quickly abandoned Feyre’s hand and met him halfway. He scooped her up into his arms easily, the grin on his face much too gorgeous for a high school boy, and Feyre grit her teeth. 

Maybe it was just her, Feyre realized, that had to have some sort of connection with the most popular boys in school while managing to remain in the background herself. Rhysand was the captain of the football team and unsurprisingly, loved by most of the people in the school. If he wasn’t so infuriating, Feyre may have even liked him.

But from debating her points in English class to attempting to speak to her afterward, Rhysand Knight was nothing more than a massive pain in Feyre’s ass. A handsome pain, coincidentally, but Feyre refused to acknowledge that at the moment.

“Hey Thee,” he smiled, placing the girl down. “Enjoy the game?” 

It was only then that he noticed Feyre standing behind his sister. It seemed that widening eyes ran in the family, as Rhysand did the same thing his sister had as he gazed at her. 

“H-hey,” he stuttered, the sound strange coming from his usually smooth lips. “Feyre, right?” 

She awaited the inevitable words that always came after the sentence. Tamlin’s girlfriend, right? 

“From English. With Suriel?” Feyre started in place. So he had remembered her. 

But as Thebe ran up to her and tugged at her hand, Feyre ignored the flipping of her heart in her chest at his nervous smile. Instead, she nodded, her movements jerky and final as she arched an angry brow at him. 

“Did you enjoy the game?” he asked, smiling casually again. Feyre huffed. 

“I would have enjoyed it a lot more if I didn’t have to worry about something happening to your sister. I found her wandering around alone in the parking lot,” she snapped. 

Rhysand frowned, glancing at Thebe quickly before looking back at her, pinning Feyre in place with his gaze. 

“What are you talking about? I left her with Cassian and Azriel. They’re like brothers to her and they were watching her the whole time.” Feyre fixed him with a look that said they clearly weren’t and Rhysand’s gaze turned frustrated as he seemed to realize what had happened. 

He sighed, kneeling down until he was eye level with his sister who seemed to be looking everywhere but at him. The sight brought a small smile to Feyre’s face. 

“What did I say about running off Thee? And what did Mom say about talking to strangers?”

“But she said her name is Feyre, like the one you and Cass and Az talk about all the-” Rhysand cut off his sister’s rambling with a playful hand over her mouth and Feyre could have sworn she saw bits of red dotting his cheeks. She pushed away from the thought of how cute she found it. 

“Alright, I think it’s past your bedtime you little menace.” Thebe narrowed her eyes and bit at her brother’s hand, causing him to leap back with a curse, earning an instinctual laugh from Feyre. 

His gaze snapped to hers, softening at her laughing face, and his own turned into a small grin that sent her heart fluttering. 

Shit Fey, you have a boyfriend. 

Her cheeks colored as she noticed Rhysand’s gaze conspicuously running up and down her body and she realized she still had his jacket on. Feyre cursed under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear as she fumbled for the zipper on his jacket. 

“Sorry, I was freezing. Here-” 

“No!” Rhysand cut her off and the blush returned to his cheeks. “I mean- it- you look- uh, you’re just gonna be cold again. Keep it- for now.” Feyre shook her head, unzipping the jacket and handing it to him.

“I should head home anyway. Good game.” She tried for a friendly smile. She had never given him one. Feyre leaned down until she was eye level with Thebe. 

“Thanks for being my game buddy,” she whispered. Thebe beamed, throwing her arms around Feyre’s neck. She hugged the little girl back and tried not to look at Rhysand, whose gaze she could feel on the two of them. 

“Feyre, do you need a ride? I saw Tamlin leave and didn’t know...” His voice rolled over the words like midnight and Feyre shook her head. 

“Thanks but I really don’t live far-”

“It’s going to start raining soon, and I’m not letting you walk home in the dark. Just take the gesture Feyre.” He sounded exasperated, running a hand through his hair. Her eyes narrowed.

“And what, Rhysand, makes you think I want anything from you?”

“Rhys.”

“What?”

“People call me Rhys. Especially people who let me drive them home from football games.” Feyre shook her head in disbelief. 

“Gods, you’re relentless, aren’t you?”

“It’s one of my best qualities darling,” he smirked. 

And there it was, that insufferable charm that had every girl at school drooling over him. Feyre couldn’t say she blamed them, even if it did slightly annoy her. She finally smiled, reaching over to cover Thebe’s ears with her hands. 

“Only second to being a prick?” 

“If I say yes will you let me take you home?” Feyre rolled her eyes and Rhys’ grin widened, both of them knowing she had long since relented. Rhys handed Feyre his jacket and she grumbled, shoving her arms through.  

“Give me a second to find my wallet, then I’ll meet you at your car.” Rhys practically beamed in triumph, scooping his sister back up in his arms and heading back to the parking lot. Feyre loathed admitting that she watched them until they were out of her line of sight. 

She sighed. It was those damn eyes. It had to be.

And it was because of those eyes that ten minutes later, Feyre sat in the passenger seat of Rhysand Knight’s jet black ford fusion. Thebe was in the back, kicking her feet to the beat of whatever song was playing on the radio- one that Feyre couldn’t hear over the pounding of her own heart, and Feyre eyed the little girl through her side mirror so not as to look at the boy beside her. She was keenly aware of the small amount of space between them.

Rhys drove safely, unsurprisingly through their small town, and Feyre gazed out the window until Rhys cleared his throat. She turned to him. 

“So… how are you liking Bronte so far?” Feyre frowned before realizing that he was talking about the book they were reading in English. The book he had argued with her about to no end. 

“I think you know the answer to that Rhys, considering you make it your business to disagree with me.” Surprisingly, the words held no bite to them, and Rhys smiled without taking his eyes away from the road. 

“Well, darling, if you didn’t make it so easy to disagree with you, maybe I wouldn’t have to.” Feyre gaped at him and it was purely instinctual as she reached over the center console and shoved his shoulder as if they were best friends that did it all the time. Gods, what was she doing? She hated him. Maybe.

But if Rhys was surprised by her actions, he didn’t show it as he let out a laugh. Damn, that sound would be staying with her. 

“Look, I’ll give it to Catherine-”

“If this ends with any Heathcliff support I will jump out of this car Rhysand,” she cut him off, tone deadly serious. 

“No!” Thebe called from the back, causing both of the teens to laugh, catching each other's gazes before Feyre quickly looked away. She couldn’t be more grateful for how dark it was in the car so Rhys couldn’t see the blush attacking her cheeks. 

“So, what brought you to the game tonight? Not that you don’t seem like that type of girl but you… don’t seem like that type of girl.” His chuckle sent goosebumps up her arm even though she was still wearing his jacket. Feyre fidgeted her fingers and gazed down at her lap as she shrugged. 

“Uh, Tamlin asked me to come so… here I am.”

“Here you are… in my car.” Feyre sucked in a breath, glaring at Rhys from the side of her eye. The rivalry between the two athletes was no secret, and Feyre had yet to figure out where it had originated.  

“It’s not like that, Rhys. He thought I left. I had… until I ran into a certain black-haired beauty.” Feyre smiled at the side mirror where she could still see Thebe singing along to the radio. Rhys finally smiled too. 

“That’s fair. I know I can be a lot to look at once.” Feyre shoved him again, both of them laughing, and Feyre questioned when her life had turned so off-kilter. 

“Shut up, prick.” She didn’t joke with Rhysand Knight. She didn’t even talk to Rhysand Knight outside of class. So what in the gods was happening?

“Turn here,” she directed, shoving herself out of her thoughts. Rhys obeyed, moments later pulling up in front of her dark house where clearly none of her sisters were home. They sat there in silence for what seemed like eons. Just… sitting there. 

“Well-”

“I-” 

The two laughed as they cut each other off and Feyre shrugged off Rhys’ jacket, shoving it into the open athletic bag next to Thebe, who grabbed her hand before she could pull back. 

“Are you leaving?” she pouted. Feyre gave her a kind, tired smile, and nodded. 

“Sorry Thebe, it’s past my bedtime. But I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?” The girl nodded excitedly and Feyre almost startled back when she turned to see Rhys looking at her with a strange expression on his face. 

“What?” Rhys shook his head as if erasing the thoughts.

“Nothing… you just… surprise me.” Feyre snorted, ignoring the blush that had risen to her cheeks. 

“Yes, well, my kid whispering does tend to floor men at times.” But Rhys didn’t smile, or say anything in return, leaving Feyre to raise her brows and clear her throat. “So, I guess it’s my turn to head out.” Feyre placed her hand on the door handle before turning back to the boy next to her. “Thank you. For the ride.” 

Finally, Rhys smiled, his eyes betraying something that looked almost like… anxiety. 

“Hey, Feyre?” The car door had just shut behind her when she heard his voice again.

“Hmm?” 

“Would you want to…” Rhys scratched at the back of his neck and Feyre arched a brow. 

“Would I want to…?”

“Uh,” he cleared his throat. “Go over art notes sometime?” Feyre frowned, fully turning back around and crossing her arms in front of her body to shield herself from the night chill.

“I didn’t know you were in art.”

“Yeah uh- new class.” Feyre nodded, tapping her foot on the ground as she stared him down. Rhys stared right back, clearly unsure of what her answer could be. And she couldn’t help it as a small smile graced her face. 

“I’ll think about it,” was all she said. “Goodnight, Rhysie.” 

Feyre laughed at the sound of Rhys banging his head on the steering wheel and approached her house once more, using her phone flashlight to find the spare key Nesta had hidden somewhere. It was for that reason that she was still outside when Thebe’s little voice spoke to her brother. 

“I like her hair. With the colors. She looks like a princess.” A frown graced Feyre’s lips once more as she subtly inspected a strand of her hair, wondering what the child was talking about. Sure enough, the strands crunched under her fingertips and Feyre had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming in embarrassment.

Of course, Feyre had forgone taking a shower before going to the game. And of course, she had been using her last period of the day as a free period in the art studio. And of course, she had mistakenly dyed her hair with acrylic paint that she had now kept while being in a car relatively alone, with one of the most attractive boys in school. Not that she cared about that, of course. 

Cheeks burning, Feyre finally found the key and rushed into her empty home, wishing for nothing more than a black hole to swallow her whole in her embarrassment. 

But if only Feyre had waited; had paused for more than a moment or tried to hear over the raging sea of emotions inside of her head, she would have heard Rhys’ dazed voice speaking words she wouldn’t even conjure up in a dream. 

“Yeah. Yeah, she does.”

~~

hope you liked it :)

[hwrryscherry]

The one where Y/N is from a very famous family.

blurb: Harry is going to meet  Famous Y/N’s family for the first time on a family trip to their holiday house in Monaco. He’s very nervous about meeting your highly successful in Hollywood family and you’d try to give him the best weekend getaway ever.

word count: 2.9K

warnings: Y/B/N= your brother’s name   -  Y/S/N= your sister’s name.   Y/L/N= your last name.

author’s note: This was a request and I just gotta say that I loved this concept, and even though it took me a while to write because I had so many ideas and I had to organize my thoughts I loved it. And I’m actually thinking about making this a serie, what do you guys think???? Also it’s crazy but I spent so much time deciding on face claims to Y/N’s family lol i’m weird and this is the request which Y/N’s face claim is Romee Strijd, BUT ANYWAY I hope you like it as much as I do!!!

   The weather was really hot in Monaco, and you felt it on your skin when you left the private jet that just landed at Monaco Airport (MCM). The warm rays of the sun were in contact with your skin immediately as you raised your head to direct your gaze to the sky. It was an open sky with almost, no clouds and the sun shining more than ever. Your eyes ached from the sunlight making you lower your head again feeling your long strands of hair fall to the front of your shoulders covered in the little baby pink blazer as you both waited for your car to come to take you to your family's vacation house.

   Harry was sweating, and it wasn't because of the heat. Well, not entirely.You two have been dating for the past 9 months, and this is the first time that Harry will ever meet your family as you wanted to be completely sure that you were doing the right thing. Yes, it was the first time that he would meet your extremely famous, rich and adored family in Hollywood. He would finally meet your father, who has been one of his favorite actors since he was 12 years old. He would meet your mother, who besides being one of his fashion icons, was one of his first celebrity crushes. All right, you thought this part was a little weird but that wouldn’t stop you from making fun of him about this. Anyway, he would know your older brother, in whom he loved the music and was very anxious to be able to talk about music with him. Harry never felt insecure about his music but today he did. He did because he was afraid that your musician brother would hate his job and decide that he just wasn't suitable for dating you. And believe me, he didn't get it out of his head even though you told him how silly it was. He would also meet your older sister who is one of the most talented models and actress of nowadays and all of this made him very anxious.

   To summarize, Harry never thought he could be so nervous just by the thought of meeting the family of one of his girlfriends, but you were different. He didn't think of you as just ''one of his girlfriends'', he thought of you as the right one. Like that person he wants to have a future with, even if he's precocious, that's how he felt. And he didn’t really think of how hard it would be to date the youngest member of one of the most adored celebrity families.

   You ran your hand through your hair, tossing it behind your shoulders, so you could get a better look at your boyfriend's face. You turned your back on him and gave a little shrug as you put your arms back and hinted that he would help you take off your blazer, and so he did.

—You know it's bullshit, right? They’ll love you! — The words came out of your mouth gently as you felt Harry's fingers covered in cold rings slide over the skin of your warm arms as he helped you take off your blazer. You could hear a loud sigh coming from him, which makes you turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he positioned his hands on your waist causing a slight shiver as you felt his icy rings against your skin.

— Will they? — Harry asked lowering his head to rest it on your exposed neck breathing in the scent of your sweetened perfume thinking to himself how much he loves this scent. He felt pressured, and you actually felt bad for him about feeling like this. You knew your family and you knew they would never in a million years downplay him of you or anything in his life. You gave him a tight hug caressing his back as a form of comforting him.

— They will! They’re not demogorgons, it’s not like they’ll eat you alive! — You’d say in a mocking tone making him break the embrace and look at you with a mocking gaze eliciting a small laugh from you. 

— They can! — He’d argue back.

— But they won’t! — You’d say fastly. Looking away from the boy's green eyes to the black SUV that approached both of you. Particularly, you didn't notice if you had any paparazzi intentionally hidden in there. You and Harry were still keeping things low key, because as long as no one knew, it would always be better and easier because there would be no haters and no judgment. This is the point of life; no matter how nice and lovable you are, there will always be someone who will not like you and that’s okay. Later that day, you would find out that there were some paparazzi there when some pictures of you and Harry talking and getting in a car together were published in the media.

   The drive to your family's private house was fun. You sang some familiar songs that played on the local radio, captured some lovely pictures of each other which is something that you do frequently; you both usually fill your galleries with photos never before seen, so you can remember incredible moments lived between you. It was a weightless moment, where the two of you were genuinely happy. For a few precious minutes, Harry forgot his nervousness and let him go, let himself go in the sound of you laughter, in the smell of your hair, by the temperature of your covered body near to his body, and he no longer thought about how difficult he thought it would be to meet your family, but those feelings came back hitting him as he felt the car stop on the driveway in front of the immense door of this immense house, which you didn't see the need. It was quite common for you and your family to vacation here but you didn't see the specific need for a massive house like this for five people.

   You got out of the car and walked instantly towards the trunk of the car that opened at the driver's command. Harry took the two heavier suitcases out of the trunk while you took out the small suitcase, more like a necessaire you used to bring in your makeup and cosmetic products. You looked at Harry and sighed, sighed in awe as you observed how the muscles in his arms looked extremely more prominent at this point. The way this man has the power to amaze you at any time was different, and he knew it, he knew it very well!

    He stands up looking behind you where he could see your mother and your father coming to both of you with big smiles on their faces. He observed how much you looked like your father and just a little bit of your mom, but he also observed that the three of you had the same eye color and the same hair color, actually, all of your family was exactly like this. Almost like twins.

— Darling! — You hear your mother's loud voice and turn around to see her. She was acting like you hadn't seen her two days ago when she invited you to come on this trip and you said you were going to take your boyfriend with you. But anyway, she quickened her pace and when she got close enough to you, she wrapped her arms around you giving you a tight hug. Your father went directly to Harry. He kept a straight and ineligible countenance. Harry wondered if he was about to hug him or if he was about to shoot him for the simple fact that he was dating his youngest daughter. But then, his father smiled and held out his right hand to Harry, who did not hesitate to shake it.

— Mr. Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you! — His hand was sweaty, that cold sweat of nervousness that made his father laugh out loud. You closed your eyes for a moment remembering precisely that you specifically told Harry to don’t call neither of your parents as ‘’Mr. And Mrs., ’’because as they typically say: ‘’It makes them feel old.’’

— Relax, boy! — He said as he set one of his long arms around Harry's shoulders getting ou a chuckle from Harry as he saw your mother's sweet gaze on him.She then smiled at the boy who was definitely a lot taller than her and then back at you.

— He's as handsome in person as in the pictures you showed me, dear! — She said winking at you, causing you to widen your eyes at her while Harry laughed out loud.

— Mom! — You would say scolding.

— It's okay, Y/N! I know you go around saying I'm handsome and everything! — Harry risked the joke, which made you roll her eyes in a playful way to him.

— Come on, what are you waiting for? Let's take your stuff up there! — Your father said lugging the small suitcase you carried without hesitation.

— Okay, you two take things up there while Y/N and I will go straight to the pool area. — Your mother said and your father just nodded in agreement with her and immediately started walking into the house. Harry widened his eyes at you as a cry for help and you just shrugged your shoulders being practically dragged by your mother's small figure, since you were basically six inches taller than her.

    You walked through the extensive pool area with crossed arms. You both walked to a covered part where a broad, round white wooden table was located surrounded by beautiful yellow chairs, not the vibrant yellow but the yellow at sunrise, that calm and serene.

   You two sat on the chair and you used your hand to support your face on the table, thus letting your long strands of hair fall to the left side of your shoulder. Your mother took one of her hands to hold the strands of hair in her hands and looked at your face with a tender smile.

— You look happy! You have that happiness glow — She said admiring your face that instantly started to smile just to remember the reason you were so happy, and to remember your happiness had a name, appearance, voice and age.

— I genuinely am! — You said softly trying to contain the smile.

— I'm happy! He looks like a lovely guy, after the last one, I confess that I was worried about it! — Your mother said in a more deep tone and you just tried to expel all thoughts about your ex-boyfriend, it was not even worth remembering that human being, if he can be considered a human being.

— He's... He's the best, mom. — You said softly bringing your hands to your face and then placing your palms on your cheeks holding your smile, even though it seemed impossible — He really is! Harry is so clever, kind, respectful. He's hilarious, you know? Time goes by so fast, I feel light. I forget about worries and focus only on him and I, and at that moment it seems that the rest of the world ceases existing and by god, he was so nervous about coming here today. He was terrified you guys would detest him, and I would just stop liking him.

— Why? But this is so silly! — She said snorting a little, it was even a little bit funny because this has been exactly the same thing that you have been saying to Harry. — You need to make your own choices and we recognize it, we don't always support it, but we know it!

    You chuckled a little with the older woman's words. God, how you idolized her. You were always grateful to have such a good relationship with her. This type of relationship that you can arrive and spend hours telling things and will feel unjudged. Everyone should have something like that.

— But where are Y/S/N and Y/B/N? I thought they would come too — You asked about your older siblings as you straightened up in your chair.

—They arrived! They said something about buying some things on the market. I have no idea!— She said taking the glass she held in her hand and taking a sip of the drink. —These children are like this, you know, you generate them, give birth to them, raise them, spend thousands of dollars in schools and then they go out and don't even tell you where they are going. — She said being the usual drama queen and you cannot avoid the laugh that escaped your lips, this woman was simply everything for you.

— All very dramatic, I bet they went to buy things that you should have bought and forgot! — You said raising your eyebrows in a mocking way.

— Okay, okay! You don't value me. I understand! — This was probably one of the most dramatic phrases she had ever said in her life. You then feel a pair of firm hands on your shoulders and automatically tilt your head to look and come across Harry's face. Harry's beautiful, perfectly structured face.

— Hi! — Harry said to bend down to give a light kiss on your forehead. You then looked ahead and saw your father behind your mother.

— We left things in your room. Everything is in there! — Your father said looking at you two. You then got up and stood next to Harry and looked at the older couple.

— I'll go up and take a shower then! I'm dying of heat! — You said — And Hazz, could you come along and take things out of the suitcase? — You said taking your gaze to him who agreed with a soft "sure." You then smiled at your parents, and you walked into the house. You both went up the stairs. 

                                          ...

   It was about 2pm now and you were all reunited att the pool area. Or siblings and their current partners were there too. You two had already showered and switched to more tropical clothes. You were wearing a beige bikini with white polka dots while Harry was wearing a navy blue swim trunks with a single wine red stripe, and believe me, it wasn't long before the two of you were in the pool. You both had dark glasses on your faces to protect you from the sunlight. You and Harry leaned against the edge of the pool without leaving the water. Harry had his back against the edge while you stood in front of him, with your arms around his neck and his hands on your waist while the Carpenters song "Top of the world" played in the background.

   You could feel Harry touching the tips of your wet hair on your back as he didn't really listen to the things you said.

— Harry? — You called him trying to get his attention that seemed far away at the moment. Harry put his thoughts aside and stared at you looking a little far away. —You weren't even listening to what I was saying, right? — You said raise your hands to stroke the taller boy's wet hair.

— Sorry, what were you saying? — Harry asked taking off his sunglasses and then bringing his tattooed hand to your face so that he could remove your glasses as well so he could have a clear view of your eyes.

— What did you think? — You asked showing interest in the boy's thoughts.

— In almost everything and in everything. I was thinking that this place is amazing, that your family is really nice and that you are wonderful! — He said in a charming tone with a smirk on his lips as he leaned down to peck your lips.

— So you admit that I was right, and you were wrong? — You asked raising your eyebrows teasing him for his nervousness that had already passed by this time, since he got along so well with his entire family.

— I would say a little bit! — He would speak reluctantly in the form of a joke causing you to snort and slap his shoulder lightly as a joke basically demanding that he tell the truth — Ok, ok I admit! It was stupid nervousness! Do you feel better now, Miss Y/L/N?

— Well... I feel adorable! — You say smiling convincingly.

   The rest of the trip was incredible, and you guys agreed on that. You guys did so many fun things. You went on a Jet Ski in Cap-d'Ail which is very close to Monaco. You took a whole day to go from Monaco to Nice by helicopter where you spent the whole day there. You went canyoning and went to the casino. There were days where you just went shopping in Monaco and spent the day enjoying at home, but surely one of your favorite nights was the night where you had a game night where you played UNO, and poker, in general the whole trip it was so much fun and Harry would like every day of his life to be like this, and preferably, for you to be by his side.

[one-boring-person]

Hey! It's my birthday! I was wondering if maybe you could write smth about Iceman surprising the reader for her birthday? Thank you!

Happy belated birthday!! I hope you had a great day! I'm sorry this is so late, but I hope you like it!😊💛

Happy Birthday!

Tom "Iceman" Kazanski x reader

Warnings: none

Masterlist.

I do my best to stifle yet another yawn as I throw up the bed cover and tuck it neatly into the corners of the frame. I remember to take great care of this action, knowing full well the consequences of having messy quarters. The air in the room is icy, it being one of the many downfalls of being stationed in some God forsaken carrier in the middle of the ocean somewhere The thin cloth of my uniform never does much to keep me warm, unlike back in training, where it used to be the bane of my existence, making me hot and sweaty every damn day I was there. As I straighten up again, I roll my shoulders and let out a huff, rubbing my hands together to generate some warmth, before going to the dresser to the side of the small room, glancing at it as I fix my hair one more time.

On the table is a calendar, each date left mostly blank, except for one, which has a small star scrawled into the space below. Normally, that would bring a smile to my face, but now it doesn't. No one really has time to celebrate a birthday these days.

Sighing, I smooth down my uniform one last time and go to leave the room, only now noticing that there is a small envelope on the floor by the door, the sender clearly having stuck it underneath the frame earlier this morning. Frowning, I pick it up and turn it over, eyeing the handwriting sceptically, only now recognising it, the neat letters unjoined and perfectly legible, spelling out my name. Turning it over again, I tear it open and pull out the letter inside, smiling as I read over the words lining the centre of the page:

(Y/n),

Happy birthday! 

I'm on a patrol right now, and I know you have one, too, so come find me afterwards and we can celebrate together.

I love you,

T.

Folding the letter again, I place it in my pocket and leave the room, just catching my RIO, Jolt, as he walks past, falling into step beside him.

"Hey, (Y/n). Sleep well?" He asks as he sees me, smiling pleasantly.

"Yeah, not too bad. You?" I respond, a little disappointed at the lack of remembrance.

"It was alright." He frowns, then, saluting an officer as they walk past, "I wish they didn't have to get us up so early though, it sucks."

"Yeah, it does."

We go the rest of the way in companionable silence, only splitting up again when we reach the changing rooms. I enter the female ones, going to my locker. Opening it, I grab my helmet and pull it out, placing it on the bench behind me, taking out my flight suit, too, the buckles and straps on it clinking quietly in the silence of the room around me. Stripping off the uniform I worked hard to make smart and flawless, I fold it and put it away, pulling on the flight suit with a grimace, pulling a face at the strong odour that has long since become ingrained in the fabric thanks to hours and hours of flying in it. I tighten it around my body until it is mostly comfortable. Shrugging my shoulders, I crack my neck and grab my helmet again, checking the inside briefly before leaving the room again, going out onto the runway instead this time. Three of the others are already waiting there, Maverick and Goose amongst them, the third being another RIO; all three of them turn to look at me as they await briefing, a smile breaking out over the farmer's face.

"Cobra! Happy birthday!" He exclaims, clapping me on the back as I near them, grinning widely.

"Thanks, Mav." I smile back, happy that someone remembered, beside Iceman.

"It's your birthday today, (Y/n)? Why didn't you say so?" Goose says, looking jokingly surprised.

"I did, Goose." 

"I know, I'm teasing." He winks, turning to face the changing rooms again as Jolt and the last pilot step out, "What took you boys so long?" 

Neither of them reply, only coming to stand beside the rest of us as we wait for the commanders to show up. After a while, they do, briefing us before sending us off to our respective jets, the six of us climbing up into the cockpits with practiced ease. As I buckle myself in, I pull on my helmet and check the earpiece, contacting the tower to request take-off authorization. I receive it quickly, allowing me to taxi out onto the runway, waiting for the ground staff to prepare the jet for launch. 

*

A groan escapes me as I stretch out my cramped muscles under the relaxing flow of the water from the shower head above me. The flight was much longer than expected, meaning that we've been sitting down for far too long. The seats of the small jets had quickly given me the cramps and aches that plague my body now, my back cracking as I straighten it properly. Massaging my temples, I wash out the shampoo that I've already lathered into my hair, my only goal now being to get out and to find Tom as quickly as possible.

I take around ten minutes to finish in the shower, going into the actual changing room to pull on my uniform, straightening it and patting it down as much as possible. I intend to make myself look as smart as possible, though my slightly hasty attempts end up appearing a little more haphazard than normal. Cursing myself, I adjust my shirt and hair, before going to leave the room, having already secured my helmet and flight suit in my locker when I first came in. Internally, I make a note to get my suit washed, seeing as it absolutely reeks, though I am well aware that I will likely forget about this very quickly, my thought process not quite focusing on my duties right now.

Leaving the changing room, I immediately turn down the corridor and start walking towards the bunk rooms, saluting and smiling at the relevant officers that pass me, a few "happy birthday"s coming from some of the aviators who know me well enough, the pilots and RIOs never stopping to say more than that. I don't think much of this, simply happy that they actually managed to remember it, considering my own RIO completely forgot. It doesn't take long for me to find Tom's room, my fist lifting to knock on the door as soon as I am in front of it, the metal ringing slightly from the impact. 

It is opened swiftly, a grinning Iceman greeting me as he does so, his blue eyes glittering in the bright fluorescent lighting above us.

"Hey, baby. How's your day been?" The pilot asks me as he lets me inside, standing back from the door so I can pass him.

"Not great, honestly, but it's better...jeez, Tom, where'd you get that?" I trial off, pointing at the large cake sitting on the desk a little way away.

He chuckles, coming up and wrapping an arm around me as he replies, pressing a kiss to my temple.

"I called in a favour with one of the cooks." He shrugs, pulling me closer to him.

"That must've been a big favour." I lift an eyebrow at him, but he only smirks, taking me by the waist as he leans closer.

I suddenly find my lips occupied, his mouth moving over mine lovingly as he kisses me passionately. His hands moving to pull me into him even more, my own running up his chest to intertwine in his hair, tugging slightly on it as his grip tightens. Yanking him closer, I kiss back happily, moaning slightly as he licks at my lips, asking for entrance, which I am only too happy to grant. His tongue dips into my mouth and explores as much as he can as thoroughly as possible. At the sensation of these ministrations, I feel myself starting to get a little light headed, my knees going weak. 

Eventually, we pull apart for air, a smirk instantly finding his lips again as he mutters huskily to me.

"Happy birthday, (Y/n)."

I smile back at him, kissing him once more before moving to inspect the cake, only now noticing the gifts lying beside it.

"Are they for me?" I ask in surprise, confused as to how he managed to get them onto the carrier in the first place.

"Yeah, they are." He affirms, coming to stand behind me, "Go on, you can open them."

Still shocked, I pick up the nearest one, unwrapping it to find a framed photograph of the two of us on our last day off, both of us standing on the beach looking cheerful as the sun beats down on our backs, a beach ball held between us, reminding me of the time we spent playing volleyball there. Thanking him, I set it down and pick up the second, which turns out to be purse, which I open to find a little Polaroid tucked into one of the compartments, this one portraying the two of us in a more intimate light, a blush coming to my cheeks as I recall that night. Tom sees this and laughs, before handing me the last gift, which is a box-shape. Unwrapping it, I feel my eyes widen as I catch sight of the necklace lying there. 

It is fashioned to look like one of our dog tags, the writing embossed on it neat and legible, though upon closer inspection I find that it spells out both of our names and the date we first got together, a small line of three kisses adorning the bottom row. Turning to look up at him, I feel a wife smile break across my face.

"Tom, I don't know what to say…" I murmur, immensely grateful for the gifts he's given me, the pilot clearly happy with my reaction as he sweeps me up into his arms again, kissing me gently.

"Happy birthday, (Y/n)." He repeats, before pulling away and looking me in the eye, "I love you."

Blinking in surprise, I barely have time to register that my lips are moving before I'm responding.

"I love you, too!" With an ecstatic grin I throw myself into his arms, kissing him much more passionately, his arms returning to my waist as he goes to continue our actions from before, only to be interrupted by an insistent knocking on the door.

Pulling apart, I frown and look up at him.

"Who's that?" I ask him, annoyed at the distraction.

"That'll be the others." He smirks, going to open the door, pausing before he does so.

"The others?"

"What, you didn't think we'd be celebrating this by ourselves, did you?" Tom grins as he throws open the door, allowing the rest of our friends to pass inside.

[stxrrywildflower]

deep blue

pairing - spencer reid x reader

summary - hotch recruits you for a single case, a certain genius catches your eye

warnings - cursing, mentions of case

word count - ?

note - i’m not sure the true numbers but let’s asssume the acadamy program is anywhere from two to four years

one early morning at the bau, rossi stepped into hotch’s office. “have you seen the case?” the italian man asked. hotch nodded, “yes i have. do you think we need her?” rossi pondered for a quick minute.

“i mean she would be nothing but helpful,” rossi reasoned

grabbing his suit jacket, hotch stood up. “then let’s go, the team will brief when we get back.” with that, the two men exited the office much to the confusion of the team.

____

you practically grew up in the water.

as a kid, your family lived on the coast. swimming was something that came naturally and you were doing it even before you could remember. from age five to twenty-two, you did various swim teams outside and in school. in college, you had swam and broken records all while majoring in criminology. in the end, you decided to go into the fbi acadamy with your skill set.

four years in, you were just a few months away from graduating. however, you had no clue what team you would be recruited onto. you were top of your class with academics and your physical training which made you a good prospect.

you were currently swimming laps in the pool for some extra training. your instructor was sitting at one of the chairs, timing you. he looked up when two familiar agents entered the pool area. you didn’t stop swimming as you hadn’t even realized the two enter.

“agent hotchner, agent rossi,” your instructor greeted, shaking the hands of both.

the three turned towards the pool where you did your final push off of the wall on the far end. “excuse me,” your instructor spoke and leaned down by the wall, the stopwatch in hand. it didn’t take more than a few moments for you to press your hand against the wall and stop swimming.

you emerged from the water, removing your goggles and swim cap. after going under one more time to get your hair wet, you finally appeared and leaned against the wall. “how’d i do?” you asked, not completely aware of the other two agents.

“shaved off five seconds. i’m not sure why you keep wanting to break these acadamy records. you’re already in the top spot.”

you shrugged as a response before looking up at the two older men. “nice to see you again y/n,” rossi greeted. you nodded slightly before getting out of the pool and accepting a towel. once your arms were no longer wet, you shook the hands of hotch and rossi.

“so what brings you to the acadamy?” you asked as you continued to dry off. “we need your help with a case,” hotch revealed. you stopped your movements and furrowed your eyebrows. “my help? what for?” you responded.

“it’s a case in gulf shores, alabama. the unsub is using the ocean to dispose of his victims and all the divers in the city and surrounding area are on a retreat to california. we need someone with diving experience and the swimming ability to aid us,” hotch explained.

“alright, i just need ten minutes to shower, change, and then grab my bags,” you explained. “we’ll be waiting.”

you rushed into the locker rooms, rinsing your hair before using shampoo and conditioner to wash out the chlorine. you were done in record time with five minutes to spare. after changing into jeans, a tank top, your combat boots, and slipping on your oversized fbi windbreaker, you exited and went to grab your bag.

just as you said, you were meeting up with hotch and rossi ten minutes later. you had a go bag in hand and behind you was another with your diving equipment including a wet suit, flippers, and a mask. the three of you headed to the car and began your drive to the bau building.

walking in, hotch motioned for you to drop your bags in his office before following him into the conference room.

“everyone this is y/n y/l/n from the acadamy. she will be assisting us on this case,” hotch announced, “these are agents prentiss, morgan, j.j., and doctor reid. you already know rossi and that is our technical analyst penelope garcia.”

the team took in your appearance. it was hard not too, as they were profilers. you were pretty young, almost the same age as spencer. your hair was still soaking wet and you had the faint smell of chlorine on you. “wait, why do i recognize your name?” emily spoke up.

“well,” rossi started, “y/n currently holds the record for the women’s open swim competition as well as smashing the biathlon and triathlon times at the acadamy.” you blushed slightly, not used to all this attention. emily nodded, obviously realizing why she had known you.

“we can get to know y/n on the plane, let’s get started,” hotch said as he sat down.

garcia began to go over the details of the case, “three bodies have been found in the gulf of mexico over the past two days. what’s weird is that they were all killed around the same time and have markings that resemble shark bites. however, the medical examiner determined that they weren’t actually made from a shark. none of the victims knew each other either. plus, all divers are out of town. these bodies were found by chance.”

“the unsub has to know about the retreat. anyone could have stumbled on the bodies if he hadn’t,” you added.

after bouncing around possible theories, hotch told the team that it was thirty minutes before ‘wheels up’. you, however, were in hotch’s office, receiving your orders for the case.

“since you are still a cadet, you are not allowed to go anywhere alone. all orders must come from one of us,” hotch told you. it was pretty much just standard procedure.

meanwhile, the official agents of the team all sat around their desks in the bullpen. “so the new girl?” j.j. started. “she’s a killer athlete and her skills are really good,” derek added.

“what do you think reid?” emily asked.

spencer, who was reading some book, glanced up for a quick moment. “her record is impressive,” as he said this, his voice went up slightly on the last word. “oh my god,” garcia started, “you totally think she’s pretty!” spencer’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. the other agents were about to add something but hotch and you emerged from his office. “let’s head out,” he announced.

on the plane, the first ten or so minutes were spent going over the case details. “alright, i want reid, y/n, and morgan to all head down the the port. a boat is waiting to take you out to the dump sight. y/n i need you in the water seeing if anything useful is underwater. time is important and we need you there as quick as possible,” hotch ordered.

“should i get changed?” you questioned.

once seeing your superior nod, you grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom. it was honestly miracle that in the small airplane bathroom, you managed to change into a swimsuit and your full body wetsuit. after tossing your hair up into a messy bun, you slipped back on your shoes and made your way into the jet.

all eyes were on you as you sat back down in your seat next to spencer, now in a completely different outfit. “so y/n, what’s your life story?” emily asked. hotch and rossi were now sitting on the opposite side of the jet leaving you, j.j., derek, spencer, and emily to talk.

“well, i was raised on the coast and was pretty much swimming before i could talk fully. my parents always had me involved in different swimming groups during my childhood. i was on varsity swimming all four years of high school. i went to harvard for college, majoring in in criminology and swam for the school also. entered the acadamy after when i was 23,” you explained.

“i thought the acadamy training was only two years?” derek asked.

you shrugged and took a drink from your bottle of water, “i’m taking profiling courses and doing minor field work at the same time. it adds two years on to the program,” you responded. “so your what, 26? 27?” you cracked your knuckles, “i’m 27.”

“not much younger than pretty boy over here,” derek smirked, “so what do you do for fun?” you leaned back into your seat. “oh i’m a huge sci-fi nerd,” you smiled. spencer perked up as derek groaned. “what shows?” the genius asked.

“i mean star wars and star trek are my two favorite. i’m also a fan of doctor who but i haven’t watched it recently,” you explained.

emily, j.j., and derek all watched as you and spencer became engrossed in conversation about one of the shows. you two were talking incredibly fast and motioning rapidly with your hands. wide smiles were on both of your faces. the three other agents shared a look before going to sit in different seats.

upon arrival to the city, you, spencer, and morgan all headed down to the port. after greeting one of the police officers, you boarded the boat. you were shown a room where you could finish suiting up. the water where the body was dropped was pretty deep, meaning you would need to wear an oxygen tank.

“hey spencer!” you called, “can you come help me?” spencer walked out from the deck and into the room. “i need some help putting on the vest.” spencer grabbed the vest which would hold the tank. you held your arms out behind you as he slipped it on. the two of you were extremely close as spencer began to fasten and clip the buckles. you inhaled sharply and when you felt his hot breath on your neck.

“alright you’re good to go,” spencer spoke, still close to you.

you stepped back with a smile. after thanking on, you slipped on your boots and fins. the police officer helped put the tank on your back and connect it to your snorkel.

now, you sat on the edge of the boat, about to go under. “you ready?” morgan asked. you didn’t respond but instead leaned back so you fell off of the boat and into the water. spencer and morgan shared a quick look as they watched you disappear under the water.

minutes later, you emerged at the surface. in your hand was a necklace. derek held out a bag which you then placed the necklace in. after climbing onto the bout, spencer moved over to stand with you.

“do you need help again?”

you shook your head no. “i’m okay for now,” you spoke. as you walked away, spencer felt something be placed in the palm of his hand. he looked down to see a small polished shell, no doubt from you. he smiled softly before going to find morgan.

____

three days later, the team had identified the unsub.

the only issue was that his current whereabouts were unknown and he had another girl with him. however, an anonymous tip was sent to the police station that they saw a small boat go out in the ocean a few minutes ago.

one of the police boats was started and the team piled on. as quickly as you could, you got into your scuba gear just in case. this time, it was a much more modified version; only wearing a wetsuit and a snorkel mask. you didn’t think you would need it and you weren’t even due if you were going in the water or not.

it only took a few minutes for you to arrive at the location. just as you were in view, the unsub pushed the girl off the boat before jumping in himself. he pulled her down deep as a way to drown her. the unsub was clad in his own scuba gear, allowing for him to do so.

after hotch nodded towards you, you took off running before diving off the edge of the boat.

as you swam down the ocean, you looked around. suprisingly, the unsub wasn’t even in sight. it didn’t help that the water wasn’t exactly clear. however, you managed to spot the victim a few feet down. you grabbed her arm and pulled her to the surface.

the boat was a few yards away. using one arm, you propelled yourself through the water. morgan and hotch were already waiting by the ladder at the back part of the boat. after taking your mask off and tossing it on the deck, you helped the victim over to the ladder.

once she was lifted onto the boat, you started to climb up. but, a hand on your calf stopped you. you could barely react as you were pulled underwater, most of your oxygen being knocked out of you.

the water was extremely salty but you pried your eyes open and were met with the unsubs. you were at a disadvantage as he had a mask and you didn’t. if you tried to swim up, he would just drag you back down. so there was only one option, you needed to fight.

in ten seconds, you managed to rip the mask off. you were even deeper underwater now and you knew you couldn’t hold your breath underwater. with your strength, you managed to kick the unsub hard in the stomach. the unsubs eyes showed nothing but panic as water filled his mouth.

in a final effort to save yourself, you wrapped your arms around the unsub neck and started to strangle him. black spots crowded your vision as the unsub thrashed violently, creating bubbles around you. finally, he stopped moving.

you managed to swim to the surface, taking in as much oxygen as possible as you frantically looked around.

the police boat was now even further away. you knew the risks as water was still in your lungs and dry drowning was pretty much inevitable at this point. nonetheless, you dived back under and grabbed the unsubs now dead body. after bringing it to the top, you managed to make it over to the boat.

the team helped you back onto the boat. you rolled over so you were on your knees, pressing your forehead to the deck floor. you began coughing, directly due to the salt water the filled your lungs. your eyes screwed shut as you wrapped your arms around your stomach.

spencer kneeled down beside you, placing his hand on the small of your back. “post-immersion syndrome, known as dry drowning,” spencer informed everyone.

your chest grew tighter as you struggled to breathe. in the background, you heard hotch yelling to speed up. “match my breathing pattern okay. i need you to stay calm,” spencer whispered to you.

he rolled you over so you were sitting upright. a painful look was displayed in your face as the two of you made eye contact. your breathing matched his despite your cloudy vision. you struggled to your first and over to the side of the boat, immediately leaning over the rail to cough up the water from your lungs.

that’s all you remembered before you passed out.

waking up in the hospital meet hours later was less then fun. your lungs burned but thankfully, with the ventilator, you were breathing okay.

in the corner of the hospital room, you noticed spencer sitting with a book in his hand. you smiled weakly and moved your arm to get his attention, not trusting your voice at the moment.

“hey,” spencer spoke, moving to sit by your bedside.

you smiled softly. “i feel terrible,” spencer added. you shot him a questioning look. “i mean you almost drowned. i should have done something.”

“take me out to dinner and we’ll call it even,” you managed to get out despite the raspiness of your voice.

spencer grinning brightly, “i would love too.”

[allegra-writes]

Perfect

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

General Audiences

Warnings: None

The request:

This is the story of the first time you met Peter Parker, and the first time you kissed.

For all the people who asked for a second part of "Happy birthday, Peter" or asked me what happened in Paris. This is prequel to that fic, but as always, can be read as a stand alone.

MY MASTERLIST

You wouldn’t say you were having the worst day of your life, that was probably the day that psycho of Aldrich Killian kidnapped you and played mad science with you. Or, going farther back, the day those other psychos of Ten Rings had snatched your father in the middle of the dessert and kept him away from you for three months. No, you wouldn’t say it was the worst day of your life, but it was definitely on the top five.

First, your father finally allowed you to wear your suit, yes, but it was to fight the people that until forty-eight hours before had been your family. Then, you had gotten to meet the famous Spider-Man from You Tube, and he was as amazing as you thought he would be, or more, fighting side by side with you and your father, matching the rest of the Avengers in strength and skill and even managing to land a few punches on Steve, while visibly enjoying himself all the time. He was smart, and funny and a total hottie under that mask. So of course you had frozen like a star-struck twelve year old. You hadn’t even been able to speak, and now he probably thought you were some conceited, stuck up brat, too good to talk to the noobie.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, your father had humiliated you by taken you off the battlefield and carting you back to the hotel, with Happy as your babysitter, as if you were a child. Your only consolation was that Spider-Man had gotten the same treatment.

Still, by far the worst thing that happened that day, had been uncle Rhodey’s accident.

You had watched in horror how your dad had been too late to stop him from hitting the ground, unable to do anything yourself because he had deactivated your suit in order to force you out of the fight. He had rode to the hospital with Rhodey but had disappeared afterwards, and you knew that by the time you got your dad back, he was going to be bloodied and bruised. Not for the first time, you wished he would trust you enough to let you help him, but you weren’t under any delusions: You knew that after what had happened to uncle Rhodey, the chances of Tony letting you tag along on another mission were pretty much zero.

That also meant that the chances of you and Spider-Man ever crossing paths again were very slim, and with Happy returning you to New York the next morning, your window of opportunity with him was getting closed. So you did the Stark thing to do: You suited up for the battle and went to find Peter Parker.

…

Peter Parker was having the best day of his life. First, his childhood hero had brought him to Europe (or, had him brought, but whatever, Mister Stark was a busy man), then he gave him a brand new, awesome suit for him to wear. After that, he got to meet - and fight – The Avengers, and even steal Captain America's shield. The only downside had been that his celebrity crush, y/n Stark, hadn’t even spared him a glance, but he was used to pretty girls being aloof. At least to him.

He was so excited, that not even Happy Hogan's lack of enthusiasm could deter his good mood. Not even when he had demanded him to keep it down twice, and was currently knocking on his door a third time.

“Sorry, Happy! I promise this time I’ll...” He started apologizing before even opening the door, but the words died in his mouth once he did. Because that wasn’t Happy on the other side.

“Hey, Peter.”

“Mi-miss Stark! Hi!” It wasn’t fair, you thought: you knew you didn’t look that cute when you were nervous. But seeing him getting as flustered at you did wonders to your level of confidence. You smiled, feeling a little more your self.

“It’s y/n” you corrected.

“Y/n, sure” he blushed even harder, and you smiled wider.

“Aren’t you going to let me in?”

“Of-of course, miss Stark, y/n! I meant y/n!”, he tripped a little over himself making room for you to step in and it was the most adorable thing you had ever seen. You immediately headed for his bed, hopping on it because why not.

“So,” You commented casually without stopping to jump, “this is the Spider-cave…”

“I- I guess, I mean” It wasn’t fair, Peter thought. The most accomplished girl of his generation, for not mentioning beautiful, the one whose picture was on his lockscreen, was currently jumping. On his bed. And he was expected to make sense? Ok, he could do this, he just had to say words. Words that went together. Any words.

Why couldn’t he remember any words?

“I’m sure yours is bigger” He meant your room, but you totally miss understood.

“Well, yeah, but it’s not as bouncy” you replied.

“what?”

“What?” You parroted dumbly, pausing your hopping.

“Your room is not as bouncy?” Peter regretted talking as soon as he opened his mouth. What if he had misinterpreted you? What if it was some kind of cool kid's slang and he had just proven how not cool he was? What if-

“No, I meant my bed…”

Of course you were talking about your bed, it was obvious! He was so stupid! Now you were standing there looking at him with a tiny frown on your face, probably thinking he was a complete looser.

And now it was awkward. God, why was he such a-

“Why are you on your pajamas?”

Your question took him by surprise. He took in your black shorts and sheer blue top. Wow. Just… wow.

“… Why aren’t you?”

“It’s like, six o'clock” You explained with a shrug, “Dad said it was your first time in Berlin, I was thinking you’d might like to go out, do a little sight seeing…”

“Actually I already saw the city yesterday” Peter wanted to punch himself: What was wrong with him? Y/n Stark had just basically asked him out and he had rejected her. And now you looked disappointed. Like, for real, for him.

However, as he was later going to learn, you weren’t the type to give up easily.

“But this isn’t just your first time in Berlin, is it? It’s your first time in Europe, period. Isn’t it?” you checked.

“It is” He confirmed, “Why?”

A mischievous grin, so much like your father’s, started to slowly grow on your face.

“I just had the craziest idea…”

…

You weren’t like this. You weren’t wild, you weren’t reckless, that was a Stark gene you seemed to lack. Until now, cause there was something about Peter Parker, about his wide eyed gaze, his childlike enthusiasm, that made you feel adventurous and fearless. And if you were completely honest with yourself, you wanted to impress him.

You wanted to blow his mind.

… God, you were in so much trouble.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing it, this is insane!”

“You can still back out if you want, it’s not too late” But as you said the words you knew it was a lie, it was already too late. Because you could see reflected in Peter’s big brown eyes the same madness that seemed to have overtook you. He wasn’t backing up, not for anything.

He was about to open his mouth to reply when a soft tap on the car window interrupted him.

“Miss Stark, everything is ready, you have permission to land in Charles de Gaulle in forty minutes”

“Danke sehr aufmerksam, herr Müller” You turned to Peter, “What do you say, Spider-Man? Wanna go for a joyride?”

Stealing a plane and flying away to another country turned out to be not as big of a deal as Peter had imagined. If anything, it was a little anticlimactic how minimal was the effort you both had to do with a self-flown jet and the Stark last name opening borders and clearing landing tracks for you. Still, it didn’t stopped his heart from beating hard inside his chest the whole time. Or maybe that was just you and the effect you had on him, running hand in hand through the airport, trying to get away from the bunch of paparazzi that caught wind of the Stark jet landing there. It was exhilarating. You were exhilarating.

… He was in so much trouble.

“We need a cab” Peter announced once outside de airport, without slowing down, the paparazzi hot on your heels.

“There’s no way we’ll be able to loose them in a car, we need something faster” You pointed out, way more experienced in being hunted by the press.

“There, look!” He gestured at an impressive looking motorcycle that was just pulling up a few yards ahead.

“A Livewire! You have taste, Parker”

A pleased little blush appeared on his cheeks.

“Thanks,” He mumbled.

“Excusez-moi, monsieur!” You started, but the guy on the Harley interrupted you.

“Dude, I’m from L.A.” He chuckled, “And you are y/n Stark! This is so awesome, can I get a selfie?”

“Sure, can we get a ride?” You smiled sweetly at the camera.

“Sorry, guys, I’m here to pick up my son, his flight is delayed, he’s gonna flip when he sees you were here and he missed it…” He seemed genuinely sorry.

“Could we, like borrow your bike, then?” Peter requested.

The guy hesitated,

“Well, I mean, you look like cool kids and all but…”

“Here, you can have my watch as a guarantee you’ll get it back” you took your watch off your wrist and placed it on his open palm, “We’ll send you the location of the bike once we’re done, and maybe we could get another selfie with your son when you come pick it up…”

There wasn’t much time left, with the first photographers already coming out the doors. Luckily the bike guy caved in.

“Is this a Stark watch? These are worth like, a hundred thousand…”

“Couple hundreds, actually” You corrected, “special edition and all that”

“Ok, Take it!” The guy said, seeing the paparazzi running your way.

“Thanks!”

“Thank you so much! We’ll promise to give it back in one piece!” Peter yelled back as you both were riding away, with his hands firm on the handle, loving the feeling of your warm form draped around his back and the wind on his face. It was almost like swinging on his webs at breakneck speed, maybe even better, cause your arms were wrapped around his waist.

“Ever did this before?” you asked, raising your voice above the howling of the wind.

“I drove my friend's Ned scooter once” He replied, honestly “and I have super fast reflexes, how hard can this be?”

“Oh my God, we’re going to die!!” You groaned into his jeans cladded shoulder.

“Don’t worry, miss Stark, I won’t let anything happen to you” He promised, speeding down the A1 under the pink sunset. And if your heart melted a little right then and there, well, no one really needed to know.

“Whoa! That is amazing!” Peter bursted out in awe as soon as you reached Avenue Foch and the Arc de Triomphe appeared into view.

“Ok, pull over there, it’s time to ditch the bike” you decided.

“Are you sure?”

“Completely, this city is full of beautiful things at every corner, we might miss some if we go too fast” You loved Paris, and for some reason, you wanted Peter to fall in love with it too. You couldn’t really put your finger on why it was so important to you, but you needed him to see it the same way that you did, with all it’s beauty and quirks, with all it’s flaws (because there were flaws, like the rats or the outdated subway system), you didn’t want Peter to just have the narrow tourist view, with only the golden statues, the museums and the clichés.

You were going to give Peter the full experience.

He webbed the Harley to the front windows of a Bowling alley and you sent the coordinates to your own watch for the cool guy from the airport to pick it up.

“We are in Paris! This is the wildest, craziest thing ever! Crazier than stealing Cap's shield! I mean, I-…”

“Peter? What are you doing?”

Peter lowered his cellphone and turned to face you,

“I- I was… it’s just- I've been making this video of the trip so far and I thought…” He explained, sheepishly.

“Cool, can I be on it?”

That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting at all.

“Ye-yeah, sure” He turned the phone so the camera was pointing at you.

“We are in Paris with y/n!” He started over, “This is the craziest shit! I’m in the city of lights with the Queen S herself! Say 'Hi', your highness!”

It was amazing how the hated nickname the press had given you suddenly sounded so much sweeter from Peter’s lips. You smiled big and bright for his camera and did a little wave, and it was the cutest thing Peter had ever seen in his life. Chubby pandas and sneezing kittens had nothing on you.

“Where to now?”

“Tuileries Garden, of course” You said without missing a beat, “but we gotta hurry, it'll be closing time soon!”

Peter Parker had superhuman strength, you knew that, you had seen him stop a bus with his bare hands, witnessed him stopping a punch from the winter soldier himself. Yet he let you dragged him by the hand all across the Champs-Elysees. You weren’t sure what that meant, but it made you feel warm inside.

He, on the other hand, knew exactly what it meant. Because he would have let you do anything you wanted with him. Because he had known you for less than twenty-four hours, and you already had him wrapped around your little finger.

“Oh, no!” Your disappointment at finally arriving at the garden gates only to find them closed pulled at something inside of him. Those sad eyes and pouty lips ought to be illegal. He wondered idly what it would be like to bite that protruding bottom lip, to kiss the pout away. He chastised himself mentally, you were obviously upset, it was not the time for those kind of thoughts. You had your heart set on that garden, and he was just a middle class kid from Queens, there wasn’t much he could give to one of the richest girls in the world, but he could give you this.

“I think I might have an idea”

You turned to him with hopeful eyes,

“You do?”

“Yeah, but…” He hesitated, “we would have to- I mean you would have to let me, like…” He gestured awkwardly at your torso, his face reddening quickly.

“What?”

“Look, just… Do you trust me?” He finally asked.

“Of course” came your immediate reply.

“Ok. I’m just going to…” He took a step towards you, and very slowly, giving you plenty of time to back away or stop him, he wrapped an arm firmly around your waist.

You had never been this close to him before, well, no, that was a lie, you had been really close to him on the bike but somehow this felt different. Your face ended up on the crook of his neck and you breathed him in: Fabric softener with a hint of axe deodorant and chemicals, probably from his web fluid, and underneath all that, something else, spicy, like cinnamon. Something purely Peter.

Your warm breath on his neck sent shivers down his spine and he had to take a few seconds to gather himself enough to be sure his voice wouldn’t tremble before he said,

“Now wrap your arms and legs around me”

“What??” You squeaked, to your embarrassment.

“You said you trusted me”

“I- I do” You locked your arms around his shoulders and, with a little jump, your legs around his waist. Then, the world blurred out around you. One second, you both were standing on the ground, the next, you were flying through the air at the speed of light. And another one after that, you were landing surprisingly softly at the other side of the tall fence, effectively entering the gardens.

“Oh my god, that was awesome!”

“I’ve seen you literally flying,” Peter pointed out, “this was just a jump, definitely not as cool”

“Yeah, but like, in full armor and helmet. I never get to feel the wind on my face and stuff…”

“y/n? You can let go now” Peter regretted his words as soon as you let go of him and took a step back, taking your warmth and sweet perfume with you. He tried to cover his disappointment up.

“So, what’s so special about this garden anyway?”

You kept pointing at different flowers and sculptures for him to see and film, but more often than not, Peter found himself looking at you instead of them, far more fascinated by you. Far more interested in capturing the sparkle in your eyes anytime you saw something beautiful, or the way your skin seemed to almost glow under the fading light of the blue twilight, than in any fountain or plant.

It was a beautiful park, there was no denying it, like some enchanted wonderland out of a fairly tale. But he suspected it would probably loose most of it’s magic without it’s bewitching princess walking amongst it’s flowers, telling stories about the Medici and revolutions.

“… and of course, there’s the Ferris wheel. Do you think we can turn it on? I mean, it’s going to attract attention so we’ll probably won’t get a lot of time on it” You turned to find him staring at you through his cellphone camera, a soft look you didn’t dare to name on his face. “Pete, are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry, yes, of course, I was just-…”

“Vous, arrete vous!”

“Shit! We better run!”

The security guard was fast. Definitely not as fast as Peter but way to fast for you, so Peter ended up carrying you in his arms bridal style even after jumping the fence, because there were a couple of guards waiting for you out there too.

“Look! That must be the Seine!” He exclaimed joyfully once you reached the riverside.

“It is!” You confirmed, holding onto him for dear life as he raced towards the water.

“Uncle Ben used to take me fishing when I was little,” He commented casually as he came to a halt right next to a small boat tied to an even smaller dock. He deposited you carefully on it, and jumped in himself, immediately getting into the task of starting up the little outboard motor.

“Are we stealing a boat now?” You snorted inelegantly.

“Borrowing it,” He corrected, finally sailing away from the shore and the guards yelling at you angrily on it. “We are borrowing it. And I don’t see why not, we already borrowed a plane and a motorcycle…” He shrugged.

“I guess we are literally partners in crime, huh?”

“I still can believe it,” He confessed, shaking his head, “I mean, up until like three hours ago I thought you didn’t like me”

You lowered your eyes in shame.

“I know, sorry 'bout that” It was your turn to make a little confession, “I know I was a total bitch to you at the airport, it’s just… I was kind of nervous about meeting you and I-…”

“Wait, what?” Peter Parker looked like a confused puppy, and you knew he would not appreciate the comparison but to you it was the cutest shit you had ever seen. “You were nervous about meeting me? Why?”

“Because,” You explained, “You are Spider-Man, you stopped a car from hitting a bus full of people with one hand, that’s kind of amazing”

You are kind of amazing, you were too much of a coward to say out loud.

“You saw my videos?”

You rolled your eyes,

“Well, duh! Who do you think showed them to my dad?”

Peter was speechless: You weren’t just the reason he was in Paris: You were the reason he was in Europe at all, the reason Tony Stark had seek him out, and offered him the “internship”. He knew after this trip his life was going to change forever and it was all because of you.

It was all thanks to you, and he didn’t know what to do with that information.

“Now, see that bridge over there? That’s Pont des Invalides, nothing special about it, there’s hundreds of bridges in this city,” You continued to talk, completely oblivious to his little epiphany, “but once we reach it we’ll be able to see…”

“The Eiffel tower!” Apparently he had already spotted it.

By the time you finally reached Pont d'lena and we’re able to leave the boat, Peter was almost vibrating with excitement.

“There’s a merry go round!”

“A carousel, actually.” You corrected.

“What’s the difference?” Peter asked, confused. His little frown was adorable.

“Merry go rounds are for children. Carousels are for sophisticated young adults visiting Paris on their own for the first time!” You said before jumping into it before it even stopped moving, what earned you a few dirty looks from a couple of locals that were there with their children, but Peter was laughing as he jumped behind you, so it was all worth it.

“This has to be the prettiest merry go round I had ever took a ride on…”

“Carousel,” you rectified again “but, yeah, everything is prettier in Paris.” You sighed.

“Except you”

Your mouth fell open in mock indignation,

“Peter Parker, you take that back!”

“No- that’s not-… I mean, I didn’t- I wasn’t…”

He took a deep breath to pull himself together.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just wanted to say that you always look beautiful, no matter the city you are in…”

You looked away to hide your blush.

“Well… you probably should have started with that” you said as nonchalantly as you managed. The carousel finally stopped moving.

“Now what?” Questioned Peter once you got off of the ride.

“Now we go see the tower, after that… we'll probably have to take the subway, so we can go all the way to Montparnasse to see the Catacombs” You decided. He didn’t looked that convinced, though.

“The catacombs? At night? Won’t that be like, really creepy?”

“That’s the whole point! Besides,” you finished, looping your arm around his “I’ve got Spider-Man to protect me from anything evil that might be lurking down there”

He laughed,

“And I have Iron girl to protect me, so I guess there’s nothing to be afraid of”

“I’m not so sure about that superhero name,” The way you scrunched your nose was way too adorable for your own good, Peter concluded. “We’re gonna have to keep working on that…”

“Wow! Look at that, that’s incredible!”

You follow Peter’s line of sight right to were the most famous landmark in the world was sparkling as if covered in a thousand stars.

“It’s like the world’s biggest Christmas tree!”

… Or that, you guessed.

There were very few views in the world more beautiful than the Eiffel tower at night. The naked awe in Peter Parker's face illuminated by the tower lights as he gazed upon it, was one of them.

A soft yapping sound took you both out of your respective reveries. A couple of Pit bull puppies had seemingly escaped their leashes and we’re running around one of the entrances.

“Aww, look! It’s puppy love!” You declared as one of the puppies licked at the other's snout.

Peter laughed.

“Do you think that was their first kiss?” He wondered, “They do look kind of nervous and over exited about each other…”

You smiled,

“I wish my first kiss had been like that”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I mean, in Paris, under the Eiffel tower lights on a full moon?” You explained, “Mine wasn’t nearly as romantic”

Peter seemed to get lost in thought.

You nudged at him with your shoulder.

“What about you? What was your first kiss like?”

He seriously considered lying, he really didn’t want you to know how much of a looser he was, and he also kinda wanted to impress you. But you had been nothing but sincere and natural and open with him the whole night, the least you deserved was his honesty.

“I never-… I mean, I haven’t… kissed anyone… yet.”

You blinked.

“Never? Really?”

“Really really” He confirmed and even under the soft light you could tell he was blushing furiously.

You didn’t know what possessed you next. Possibly the same brand of insanity that drove you to take your father’s jet in the first place, but that was neither here nor there as you slowly, very slowly like him at the gardens, took a step towards him and whispered,

“Close your eyes”

He couldn’t have disobeyed your command even if he had wanted to, it was like some strange gravitational phenomenon, or maybe an electromagnetic one: The closer you were, the stronger the pull to get even closer, and the stronger your power over him. He closed his eyes but he was quite obviously unnerved, the tension clear on his shoulders. You laced your finger with his and squeezed his hand a little, and he relaxed immediately at your touch. He licked his lips instinctively and that was your undoing, you finally pressed your lips softy to his, and the universe burst into colors behind your eyelids. It was sweet, and gentle and everything a first kiss was supposed to be.

And you actually had no recollection of any other person you had kissed before; because they were inconsequential, no one had ever made you feel anything like this, warming you up from the inside, making you dizzy with want. It was stronger than any whiskey you might or might not had sneaked from your father’s bar. You stood there, drinking each other for some minutes, or maybe some centuries, you weren’t sure. Everything beyond Peter’s lips on yours had lost its meaning.

When you finally parted, Peter rested his forehead in yours, breathless and refusing to have to let go of you completely.

“How was that for a first kiss?” You asked under your breath. Peter smiled, leaning in once again.

“It was perfect” He replied against your lips, “Absolutely perfect.”

[evabellasworld]

Young Soul

For Star Wars POC Week 2020

Day 5: Family

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Summary: After 8 years, Ava Lira and Eva Bella Young has reunited with their mother, Kaia Young on Chandrila and learned about their deceased father.

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“Come on, Lira,” Eva groaned as she knocked on her door, clinching both her dolls. “We don’t want to miss the first bus.”

“Hold your horses, Evie,” Lira talked back. “I’m trying to pack up.”

“Well, you should have done that yesterday when I got back from Mortis.”

“Ugh, stop nagging me. You’re annoying.”

She took a deep breath and crossed her arms as she was about to step inside her room when Lira popped out, with her backpack and her extra slingbag, which carried her gadgets and gizmos that she made out of trash. “Now I’m ready.”

“You took too long,” Eva slapped her arms. “Do you know how long it will take from the Jedi Temple to the cargo bay?”

“It takes twenty minutes, Evie,” Lira rolled her eyes as they both walked on the empty corridor, with no one up early in the morning, except for a few, who were too tired to even care about where the twins were even going in the first place. “I’ve read the map like fifty times.”

“If you read the map fifty times, then why do you have to be super slow in preparing yourself?”

“I prepare myself. I just forgot a couple of things, that’s all.”

“That could have been prevented if you prepared yourself earlier on.”

Lira let out a groan of frustration. “Whatever, you sound just like Obi-Wan sometimes.”

“Well, maybe it’s for the best.”

As they finished their conversations, the identical twins with red hair and almond-shaped eyes stepped outside the Temple, where they were greeted by Commander Tori, who only had her bottom half of her clone commander on, along with her black top. “So, where are you girls heading today?”

“Just take us to the cargo bay,” Lira answered, grabbing the backseat. “We need to fly out of Coruscant as soon as possible.”

“And why is that?” Tori raised her eyebrows. “Are you guys meeting someone important?”

“It’s our mother,” Eva spoke, with a frown. “We haven’t seen her since we were three years old and it is urgent that we have to get to Chandrila.”

Being a clone trooper, Tori doesn’t know about being separated from a parent from a young age, but one thing she understood is family and bonding. Being close to Rex, Cody, Mayyah, and Minnie, who were her siblings, not being able to see them for a long period makes her anxious and depressed, and it is what the twins are currently experiencing right now.

“Of course, girls,” she gave a nod, driving off from the Temple. “But do your masters know about this?”

“They’re at the battlefield, again,” Lira said, glancing at the dark, morning sky, with the sun not rising from the horizon and the cool wind blowing in their surroundings. 

Tori sighed. It’s been a year since the Clone Wars had begun and day by day, she noticed that the relationship between the girls and their Jedi Masters had slowly dwindled, without both of them realizing it. Lira and Eva loved their masters, obviously, but most of the time, they found themselves closer to Tori than they thought.

Arriving at the cargo bay, Tori escorted both of them inside and stepped inside the ship, sitting beside them. If the girls had to see their mother, she won’t let them go by themselves, with the danger of the outside world much worse than what they watched on cartoons every Saturday morning.

“So,” Tori breaks the awkward silence between them. “Does your mother know that you both are visiting her today?”

Eva nodded. “Yes, Tori. We managed to find her phone number in the yellow page and commed her immediately. She’s very nervous to see us both.”

“Oh, well, that’s good to hear. Now tell me, what does your mother work as?”

“She worked at The Angel Inn,” Lira informed, showing her the pages that she found the other day. “It only opens at night, so we have ample time for Evie and me to spend time with her.”

She read Kaia Young’s comm and noticed the place was listed down as a brothel on Chandrila, making her cheeks turn hot. Should I tell them the place where her mother worked, or should I just keep quiet and let their mother come clean about her job?

She heard about her brothers and sisters visiting brothels on Coruscant, and getting kicked out of the place when they realize that their service isn’t free at all. Choerry was a fine example of a clone trooper who was banned from a brothel. Tori could only grumble, but at the same time, it amuses her as well.

“Oh, that’s fascinating to hear, girls,” she smiled. “I can’t wait to meet your mother as well, even though I don’t know much about her.”

“She’ll love you, Tori,” Lira cuddled next to her. “Trust me, I told her about you and she’s excited to see you as well.”

A civilian excited to see a clone like me? Well, that’s unexpected. “Oh, I’m sure she’s a kind lady like the both of you.”

“She is.”

After a few hours on board, the ship jumped out of hyperspace and landed on the planet’s surface. The Chandrilan skies were coloured with sapphire, with the golden, glistening sun shining above the white clouds. Despite that, the natives, which was ninety-six per cent of humans, didn’t feel too hot or too cold and were enjoying the weather.

The three of them emerged from the station with their bags when they noticed a woman in her 30s, with jet black hair and almond-shaped, dark honey eyes, along with fair skin and bow-shaped lips, which shared similar facial features as the twins. Eva, who recognized her, ran up to her and wrapped her arms around her torso. “Mama!”

“Evie, is that you?” her mother spoke, recognizing her 11 years old daughter. “Look how big you’ve grown. The last time I remember you, you were so tiny.”

“Mama!” Lira called her, hugging her as well. “We miss you so much.”

“Well, I miss you both as well,” she grinned, kissing their foreheads. She stood up and noticed Tori’s presence, and offered to shake hands with her. “And you must be Tori. The girls have said nothing but good things about you.”

“They always say good things about everyone,” Tori shook her hands. “The girls have told me about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Young.”

Kaia let out a chortle. “Oh, no, Tori. I’m not even married at all. You can call me Kaia or miss, whatever makes you comfortable?”

The first-name basis, eh? Now I know where the girls got it from. “Alright then, Kaia. It’s great to meet you, again. Sorry, it’s quite-”

“Awkward?” Kaia finished her sentence, laughing. “Don’t worry about it, Tori. I don’t bite unless you want me to.”

Her eyes widened as her face flushed. “Actually, Kaia, I’m an ace.”

“Tori, I’m just joking with you.”

Wow, she has a sense of humour, just like Lira.

“Anyways, we should head back to my apartment,” suggested Kaia, holding the twin’s hands. “I made something special for the three of you.”

They arrived at her small but cosy apartment, which was filled with potted plants everywhere and vines growing on the grille of the window. A shoe rack was placed beside the door, with the walls painted in mint green, which gave the whole house a calming effect towards the host and their guests. 

Lira, Eva and Tori took off their boots and placed their backpacks on a tiny, wooden bench that Kaia found at the garbage disposal and repainted them to make them presentable. The identical twins sat on the brown couch, along with a few tie-dye pillows. 

Tori checked out the bookshelf that was leaning against the wall, and found herself picking a book from its place, titled ‘Tales of Handmaids.’ For Tori, it was surprising that a prostitute like Kaia would have a decent place, not too lavish nor seedy. Chandrila isn’t like Coruscant, where people like her would rot in a dangerous alley. Instead, they fared better, even though there are flaws. 

“So,” Kaia walked out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of glasses, which were filled with iced lemonades. “How long did it take you from Coruscant?”

“A few hours,” Lira told her, as she took a sip of her drink. 

“Huh, that long, eh?”

“Yup,” Tori nodded. “Do you live alone, Kaia?”

“Yeah, it’s just me and all my plants, in my boxed-sized apartment. No one is there to look after yourself, and that is the harsh reality, unfortunately.”

“Isn’t it lonely?” Eva asked. “Living all by yourself.”

“Sometimes, it does, sweetie,” Kaia sat between them, wrapping her arms around their shoulder. “But at the same time, I enjoy the silence once in a while, you know.”

“Don’t you have any friends, or maybe a lover?”

Her mother let out a snort. “I see you know a lot about love, Evie.”

“They know a lot about love and sex,” Tori spoke. “They heard about them from my troops, and even some Jedi.”

“A Jedi having sex?” her eyes widened. “Why am I not surprised? Who told you about the birds and the bees anyway?”

“A friend told us,” Lira replied. “Eva and I accidentally caught him doing the deed with a Senator, so he had to explain everything about it. It was disgusting.”

“Well, I’m sorry that you girls had to see that," mused Kaia. "But at least it's better for you girls to know, rather than being ignorant and making the same mistake that I did when I was younger."

“Oh?” Tori raised her eyebrows. “What about that?”

“Well, it’s too disturbing for the three of you so consider yourselves warned but when I was 16, I was violated by an adult man, and that adult man was a friend of my parents. Instead of believing me, they denounced me and kicked me out of their home.”

“But they’re your family. Why would a family cast out one another? Don’t you guys share the same blood?”

Kaia shook her head. “Tori, your brothers and sisters aren’t the same as mine. Your siblings care for one another and look out for each other, but my family cares only about two things, which are money and ego. My aunts and uncles, my siblings, my parents, fight like vultures when they see gold. They don’t care about your well-being at all. They only know how to back-stab you, that's all."

"That sounds like the Separatist more than a family."

"Indeed, though the Republic has its flaws as well, especially recruiting kids to lead an entire army."

"If I have to be honest," Eva raised her hands. "I don't even know why we are fighting in the first place."

"We were told by the Kaminoans that it's for peace, but I could hardly believe that statement anymore."

"It seems like the people of the Outer Rim are growing unsatisfied towards the government," Kaia sighed, finishing her drink. "Honestly, I won't be surprised if there is a rebellion against them."

Lira and Eva exchanged glances of surprise before their mother cleared her throat. "So, anyone up for a movie?"

"Yes, please," Lira bobbed her head. "Can we watch Rowling's Castle?"

"Of course, sweetie."

As night came, both Lira and Eva were cuddled next to their mother as Tori slept in the right corner of the bed, laying beside the younger twin. The stars above Chandrila were shining as bright as jewellery as the moon above the sky illuminated. “Kinda rare to see this many stars in the city,” Tori commented, counting each one of them with her fingers. “We never get this much on Coruscant.”

“People here value nature,” Kaia told her. “It’s the basis of life. Without nature, we have nothing. No food, no water, no air, just torture and pain.”

“That explains why you have so many plants around your house.”

“Greenery is good for your mental health. Makes you feel calm, especially for a soldier like you.”

Maybe I should follow Daisy’s advice and get myself a potted plant in my barrack then.

“Hey Mama,” Eva called her. “There’s something I need to ask you about and it’s really important.”

“What is it, baby?”

“The other day, my master and I stumbled upon a planet called Mortis, and when I was there, I saw a man with a Jedi robe and long hair. He spoke to me about how I shouldn’t trust too freely and be more cautious with my surroundings. I told my master about him, and he said that he knew who the man was?”

“Okay, what did your master say?”

 “He told me that he was his mentor, Qui-Gon Jinn. Do you know who Qui-Gon Jinn was, Mama?”

The name that her daughter mentioned made her heart smile and sorrow at the same time. She reached for the drawers beside her bed and grabbed a flimsi of her and Qui-Gon together, holding each other’s hand. 

“You know him, mom?” Lira gasped as she saw the flimsi.

“I knew him well,” she gleamed. “He was my lover. I met him while I was exploring the forest, searching for wild berries and mushrooms. He was meditating by the river when he noticed me with a basket and a straw hat. After we got to know each other, he would visit me every weekend and slowly, we fell in love.”

“Is Qui-Gon our father?” Eva guessed.

Kaia curved her lips upwards. “Yeah, he was your father. When I got pregnant with the both of you, he was ecstatic and he couldn’t even wait to meet you both.”

Tori’s smile disappeared. She was told that Kaia lived by herself, and she could tell that something happened to him. “There’s no happy ending, isn’t it?”

Kaia shook her head. “Three months before you girls were born, I saw him in an obituary. I was heartbroken that he was gone so soon. I never get to say goodbye to him.”

“Then what happened?” Lira raised her question. “Why did you give us away to the Jedi?”

“It was difficult for me to raise you and Eva, especially with the Child Protection Service chasing after me. I had to choose between losing my job and losing both of you. I wanted both of you to have a better life than I did, so I decided to let the Jedi adopt you both.”

The twins wanted to yell at her for leaving, but at the same time, she had a point. Had their mother continued to raise them, they would have ended up in a broken, foster home, like all the other children. 

“I understand, mom,” Eva nodded, letting out a yawn. “We should head to bed.”

“Alright then,” she kissed both Lira and Eva on the forehead. “Goodnight, my love.”

Tori fell asleep as well, knowing that the twins are safe and sound in their mother’s loving embrace.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kaia Young:

Ava Lira and Eva Bella Young:

Commander Tori:

[ubernoxa]

The Sip: A GNR AU

Chapter 5: Bath Bombs

Previous Chapters: one, two, three, four

Chapter Summary: Alanah wakes the following morning to a...surprise.

I let a groan escape me as I felt the sunlight begging for my attention.

My eyes shot awake when I felt someone tighten their grip around my waist.

fuck.

Fuck.

FUCK.

What did I do last night? Where the hell was I?

The last thing I could remember was Duff taking off my bikini top...

Fuck, I could feel my cheeks catching fire. Why was I smiling? I don’t remember jack shit! Why am I smiling?

I rolled over and immediately met Duff face to face. Well, atleast I know where I am.

“Good morning,” my heart stopped as our eyes met. What the hell was going on, and why was I but ass naked in his bed.

“Morning,” I put on a fake smile and replied back. I had no other option, panicking would only make things worse.

“How are you feeling?” His voice was soft and gentle as he spoke sending goosebumps through my body. This wasn’t what I expected from a rockstar.

“Tired, and every little spec of light burns my brain, how about you?” I asked luckily earning a laugh from him. All I had to do was smile and be nice to him, that’s it. Easy to do honestly.

“Want some breakfast? I can make some waffles if you’re interested,” By now he was out of bed and digging through a drawer as he spoke. The thought of waffles made my stomach do backflips in excitement.

“Sounds good, have you by chance seen my clothes?” I began to look around my room unsure of where the hell my crap was. I held the comforter tight around me, making side I stayed covered.

“Probably still in the basement, don’t worry we can grab it later. I think your phone is on the side table,” he tossed me one of his shirts and I quickly put it on. It was softer than a blanket.

I went to stand up, but my body screamed no.

What the fuck happened last night?

“You sore?” I blushed and immediately tried to avoid any eye contact with Duff as he asked.

“Umm...yeah,” my face was on fire as I spoke. I wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“How does a hot bath sound?” I couldn’t help a smile from crossing my face as he spoke.

“Sounds lovely,” I carefully scooted myself out of the bed and followed him as we walked towards the bathroom.

I couldn’t help, but giggle at his hair. It reminded he of a giant Pompom.

“What?” He flashed a smile at me that made my entire body go numb. I couldn’t help the smile that quickly grew on my face.

“You’re hair, it’s so fluffy,” I messed up his hair even more while our giggles filled the bathroom we just walked into.

It was gorgeous, to say the least. Beautiful porcelain tile covered the floor and a larger than life jacuzzi sat in the corner. This bathroom was bigger than my bedroom, and I wanted it.

“You like it?” I turned my attention back to Duff and nodded. He must have seen me staring, but could you blame me? This looked like it belonged in a magazine or something. Note to self, become a rockstar.

I leaned against the vanity and watched as he turned the jacuzzi on. He offered his hand and I quickly took it as he guided me over to the jacuzzi. I could feel the steam coming off of the hot water, and god it felt amazing.

Duff stood in front of me as he slowly began to take off the shirt I was wearing. He left a trail of kisses starting at my hip, and ending at my collar bone. He only got a few kisses in before I let the first moan escape me. After that I felt myself melt into him with each moan getting louder and louder, and it only seemed to make him hungrier.

“Jesus Christ if you keeping doing that, I’m going to have to fuck you in there,” he growled in my ear, but that only made me louder.

Before we could continue there was a loud pounding on the door.

“One moment,” I could feel Duff looking me over and when our eyes met, I knew one thing. He was hungry.

He quickly helped me into the tub and I relaxed in the warm water that had been calling my name.

“This feels so good,” I couldn’t help but mutter aloud as I heard my phone ringing. The jets combined with the warm water begged me to ignore the call, and I quickly did. It was a mini paradise.

I was quickly pulled from my paradise as I heard commotion coming from Duff’s bedroom. I tried not to listen, but no matter what I tried to focus on I would hear their voices. Their words were distorted, but their tone was unmistakable. Duff seemed annoyed to say the least. It was like he was getting lectured or something. I leaned my head back, and that’s when I noticed it.

A mirror.

Duff had a fucking mirror about the jacuzzi.

“How much of that did you hear,” Duff pulled me from my own reflection that was starring down at me.

“It was more of the noise I heard than actual...words. Seemed personal, so I focused on the sound of the jets...would you like to join me?” I playfully splashed him once I finished talking. The frown he originally wore quickly changed into a smile.....I really liked it when he smiled.

“My older brother and his wife gave these to me as a congrats on the new home present, but I’ve never used them,” I watched as he walked over towards a set of large black drawers.

I got out of the jacuzzi as he held up a variety of mason jars that looked to contain bath salt.

“What do they smell like?” I sat next to him on the ground with a towel wrapped around me.

He shrugged and began passing the jars to me. My nose was intoxicated with all of the different scents, Lavender, Apple, Rose, lemon, coconut and strawberry. I couldn’t decide which on to use.

“What the?” I looked up to see Duff opening a cloth bag and pulling out a ball.

“Those are bath bombs,” I watched as a confused expression crossed his face.

“Duff...how have you not heard of these?” Was Duff living under a rock?

“Are these the things you throw in the water and they fizz?” He examined the ball as he talked.

“Let’s throw one in the jacuzzi and see what happens!” I probably come off as too excited, but the idea of a bath bomb in a jacuzzi made me ecstatic.

Without thinking I hopped in and Duff quickly joined me. He pulled me onto his lap and I couldn’t help but mutter Fuck under my breath as I felt it.

“In 3...2...1,” he dropped the bath bomb and I couldn’t take my eyes from the beautiful pinks, greens, and purpled that covered the water.

I leaned back and let the lavender smell fill my lungs. My heart began to do backflips as Duff gently pulled me in closer. This was perfect. This was the most peaceful I have felt in a long time.

Duff began to hum a tune I didn’t recognize pulling me from my thoughts. I opened my eyes to see Duff’s reflection in the mirror. He seems at peace as well. I wondered if he was humming on purpose or if it was more subconscious.

“You enjoying the view?” I could feel my cheeks grow red when he spoke.

“Don’t worry I am too,” he softly whispered into my ear causing all of my hairs on the back of my neck to stand up.

“Hey Duff I was wondering where you were,” Steven came walking into the bathroom without a care in the world. Has he ever heard about this thing called knocking? Even though the water hid my boobs, I quickly covered them with my hands.

“Hey man what’s up?” I was put off by Duff’s casual tone. Was this a normal thing between him and his bandmates?

“I’m heading out, you still good for practice tonight?” I slowly lowered my arms as time passed. Stevie was being a gentleman by not letting his eyes wander, something I wouldn’t expect from a rockstar...what else has the media gotten wrong about these guys.

“Yeah, Alanah and I will probably finish this up here and I’ll probably drive her back to her place,” Duff and Steven continued talk about their practice this afternoon for a couple minutes until he said goodbye and headed out.

I heard a familiar voice coming from the bedroom talking to Stevie. It was unmistakable that it belonged to Sandy.

I heard a recognizable knock at the bathroom door. It was the one Sandy and I used at the apartment all the time. We had two knocks, the first was I gotta use the bathroom, and the second was I need to talk to you. She used the second knock.

“Sandy you can come in,” I said earning a laugh from Duff.

“Hey, Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we have to record today,” I sighed as she spoke. By the look on her apologetic smile, she didn’t want to end this to end either, whatever the hell this was.

“Yeah work is work,” I sighed.

“Don’t be a stranger,” I turned to see Duff with a cocky ass smile.

[mcrflashfic]

Side Effects

Living in the Zones will change you. Literally.

Author: @justlookatthewheat

Content Warnings: Body Horror

Word Count: 2,999

Party Poison wasn't about to claim any kind of expertise on radiation poisoning, but he was at a loss for any other explanation as to why he woke up looking like a fucking Maraschino cherry.

His first thought was - well, his first thought was what the fuck is on my head as he walked past the diner windows on his way to take a piss. His second thought, then, was where the fuck did Ghoul get hair dye? Because this was for sure a Ghoul prank. But then that didn't make sense either, really. Party's hair had been black. He would have definitely noticed someone bleaching his entire head and slapping dye over top, unless he'd been, like, gonna-meet-the-Phoenix-Witch frying, which he knew he hadn't. (Even if he had, his hair would still smell like peroxide. Also, he'd be face first heaving into a bush right now, probably.) It took several minutes of staring at his reflection and pulling strands of his own hair out to inspect them up close before he started entertaining the possibility that he'd mutated overnight, though. And he didn't believe it until he wasted a whole bottle of water and some of the soap they'd salvaged from the diner’s dishwasher on trying to wash it out.

The sand wasn't even pink when he finished rinsing. Neither were his hands. He bent to peer into one of the side mirrors on the Trans Am - to his alarm, his eyebrows, lashes, and three-day stubble were all the same Pantone 485 C color as the hair on his scalp.

"How do you even remember the Pantone color names?" Kobra asked him, exasperated, like Party had fabricated this situation specifically to piss him off, at the exact same moment a totally fascinated Ghoul said "Does the carpet match the drapes?"

Kobra glared at Ghoul so hard Party thought he would sprain something. "Stop talking, or I'm filling your boots with dead spiders while you sleep."

Party'd gone to show the other three as soon as he realized how much the whole thing was pegging the weird meter. So far, they were handling it about as well as he'd expected, which was not at all. He sat on a chair in the middle of the diner floor while they crowded him and talked over each other asking questions.

"It's scientifically relevant. Like, is it all of his hair, or just the hair on his head?" Ghoul grabbed Party's arm and yanked it close, squinting at his peach fuzz; annoyed, Party ripped it back again and folded both arms tight over his chest.

"Yes, it's everywhere. Stop manhandling me, fucker."

Jet had been inspecting his hair with the back of a polished saucepan throughout the debate - probably checking to make sure whatever it was wasn't happening to him - and he finally put it down to join the discussion again. "It's weird that it's just you who's affected. I mean, we're all getting exposed to radiation, right? So why's Poison the only one in Technicolor?"

"And all at once," Kobra added, frowning. He leaned in closer to peer at the top of Party's head. "It'd make more sense as a mutation if it was just the roots."

Ghoul snickered. "Too bad you didn't snag 'Cherry Bomb' for your Killjoy name, Poison. Think of the thematic relevance it'd have now."

"Hilarious." Party rolled his eyes and dragged both hands through his new, inexplicably red locks. "Seriously, you guys. If it's radiation, where do the mutations end? Like, am I gonna get psionic fire powers next?"

The effect was not what Party was going for. All three of them instantly lit up with excitement - even Kobra broke his signature scowl to gasp out a "Holy shit, what if you did, though?"

Party dropped his head into his palms with a groan.

---------------------------------

Ghoul was next. Party was actually the one to discover it, while the two were picking their way through a dusty warehouse on the far edge of Zone 5 a couple weeks after the Hair Incident. It was oppressively hot inside despite the dim and the amount of space. They both had been stripping off layers as they sweated through them; finally, Ghoul tore off his t-shirt in a fit of heat-induced pique, chucking it in a heap on the cluttered floor, and Party gasped.

"Oh my God, Ghoul, your tattoos," he said, too loud in the empty warehouse - his voice echoed, and Ghoul nearly dropped his gun in alarm.

"What? What's wrong with them?" he asked, tinged with panic, and looked down wide-eyed at his torso. "Oh, Jesus fuck."

It was like something out of Harry Potter. Party gaped at Ghoul's skin in wonder - his tattoos were moving. Some flashed like neon; some, like the swallows across his hips, moved like their living counterparts. The grenade on his chest exploded and reconstituted on a loop. All the stars glittered; pieces in script flowed as though being traced in real time by an invisible calligrapher. Party couldn't help himself but reach out and touch one of them. It rippled gently beneath his fingertips.

"That is so fucking creepy," he said, hushed with awe, and watched the letters vanish before wisping, smoke-like, back into place. "Can you feel them?"

Ghoul shook his head fiercely, face pale. His eyes were so big Party could see white all the way around his irises. "No, I - I didn't even - oh shit, oh dude, look at my fucking hands," and he held them up so Party could see them, and he watched with a sort of horrified fascination as the letters swirled around Ghoul's fingers like stripes around a barbershop pole. "Is this fucking permanent? Party, what if it's permanent? They're all - it's all of them, oh my God," he babbled, high and strained, and clutched at Party's shoulders in distress. Party gave him a hug because he couldn't think of anything else to do, and Ghoul shuddered, and clung back.

Jet took it almost as poorly, once they'd gathered what they needed out of the warehouse and returned to base. He clamped both hands over his mouth the instant Ghoul rolled up his sleeves and reeled backward. "Abso-fucking-lutely not. Ghoul, what the fuck?"

"Dude, if I knew, it wouldn't be happening," Ghoul snapped. Kobra came closer, studying Ghoul's ink with his brows drawn together. He dragged his fingertip over the Our Lady tattoo on Ghoul's forearm.

"Party's radiation theory is looking plausible here," he said, sounding thoughtful, and glanced up to meet Party's eye. "I mean, I can't think of anything else that would cause this."

"Are we all gonna end up with freaky shit, then? Is it gonna get worse? Cause there is a big fuckin' difference between sprouting unnatural hair and living tattoos," Jet said, looking pointedly away from Ghoul. "Oh god, what if my hair turns into snakes or something?"

Kobra snorted, straightening up. "If anyone's getting a snake-themed mutation, it'll be me. Maybe I'll get fangs."

---------------------------------

He was almost right. It was significantly more disturbing than simple fangs, but it was definitely snake-themed. They were mid-clap when it happened and shit was already chaotic; Party was struggling to clear dust from his eyes with his shoulder when he heard a sickening crunch and then Jet shrieking Kobra's name. Heart in his mouth, Party whirled around with his gun raised, fearing the worst - but all he saw was Kobra, helmet on, going after a Drac down a wash. He glanced at Jet in confusion, and fired a slug at a Drac over his shoulder.

"What the hell was that sound?" he shouted.

Jet, looking like he'd seen a literal ghost, didn't answer him, just stared after Kobra in stock-still terror until Party ran over and yanked him down behind a rock embankment for cover.

"Fuck, Jet, get it together or you're gonna get dusted," Party huffed out, and shot back to his feet to fire off a couple rounds before ducking back down. "What happened?"

"That - he's not - Party, Kobra didn't bring his helmet on this raid," said Jet, and dug his fingers into Party's bicep. They locked eyes, Jet's wide and scared. "That's not his helmet. That's his fucking head."

Party blinked back at him, lost. "What? That doesn't - "

"CAN I GET SOME FUCKING HELP HERE, GUYS?" Ghoul's voice yelled then, and Party cursed before scrambling up behind the embankment, Jet on his heels. They helped Ghoul shake the couple Dracs that had ganged up on him, and then Kobra came running back up the dry creek, splattered with Drac blood. Back to back to back to back, they assumed their usual end-of-firefight position, Party and Ghoul checking north and south with Kobra and Jet looking east and west, guns drawn. Once everyone gave an all clear, they re-holstered and took a second to decompress. Ghoul wiped his face with the bandana tied around his neck, his tattoos whirling dizzily across his skin.

"Okay, so, what the fuck happened back there? I looked up and everyone was gone," he complained to the group, glaring at each of them in turn. "Didn't we talk about keeping eyes on each other the whole time during these things?"

"Sorry, Ghoul, there was sort of a - " Party started to say, looking up from adjusting his gloves, but he stopped short when he laid eyes on Kobra and Kobra's helmet suddenly deflated and disappeared into his collar with that same crunching noise he'd heard before.

"...What?" said Kobra, glancing between the three of them, puzzled. Party could feel the frozen shock on his face, but couldn't articulate any words; Ghoul heaved a dry retch and pressed his hands over his mouth, while Jet gestured frantically at Kobra while looking to Party.

"That! That's what fucking happened, except the other way! I told you it wasn't his helmet!"

Kobra touched his hand to his face, still looking confused. "Yeah, I didn't bring it cause we were in the Trans Am. Why are you guys freaking out?"

Party, acting on a hunch, quick drew his gun on Kobra and lunged, but didn't fire - Kobra leapt backward with a yelp, and sure enough, his helmet formed over his head with that same awful sound. Party shoved his gun back into the holster and grabbed Kobra by the wrist, dragging him toward the Trans Am. He pushed him in front of the side mirror. "Kobra, look."

He did. "What the fuck," he said, muffled.

Party laid a hand on his shoulder. "Dude. It's a cobra hood. The radiation made you grow a fucking cobra hood."

---------------------------------

By the time it was Jet's turn, the Fab Four were in full-on Buffy research mode to figure out what the hell was going on, and more importantly, if there was anything they could do to stop it. Dr. D didn't know anything but promised to put out feelers for them; they talked to other Killjoys at raves and underground gigs; they stripped tech off Drac bodies and raided Better Living outposts and scoured the airwaves for any stray bits of information. Meanwhile, their individual mutations got weirder. Party's hair color changed, first from day to day, then hour to hour, until it seemed like it varied with each breath. Ghoul's tattoos started multiplying of their own accord. The older ones resharpened, ink drawing up through the layers of skin - their motion, they learned by way of careful note taking, was dependent on his body temperature, faster when he was warm and slower when he was cold. Kobra didn't grow fangs or start sibilating, but he did figure out how to pop out the cobra-hood-helmet thing on command instead of just whenever he felt threatened.

"You know how with the summer monsoons, you can watch the rain sweep over the desert in a sheet until it finally gets to you?" Jet said to Party one day when it was just the two of them on watch. They were parked on top of the Vista de Nada Plano outcrop in Zone Six, waiting to intercept a Drac patrol coming from the east. "That's how I feel about this fucking mutation thing. I just wanna get it over with."

Party glanced over at Jet from the landscape sketch he'd been doing out of sheer boredom. Jet's jaw was clenched, gun in his lap, and he kept trailing his thumb up and down the barrel as he stared out over the scrub wastes. "It's not so bad being a mutant," he said, opting for levity. It only kind of worked; Jet snorted, but didn't smile.

"Easy for you to say. You got the Rainbow-Brite mutation. Kobra sprouted snake anatomy. That's like Storm telling Rogue to cheer up and embrace her power."

Hard to argue with that. Party shrugged, and tapped the end of his pencil against his sketchpad. "Maybe you'll get a softball one, too."

Jet ran his tongue over his teeth. "Yeah, maybe." He knocked his aviators up the bridge of his nose with his knuckle, and then suddenly sat up stock straight, clutching his gun with both hands. "Start the car."

"Huh? Why?" Party looked around, twisting in his seat to check behind them, too - no sign of danger, no dust from vehicles, just the rocks and larrea bushes.

"There's an Exterminator coming up the back side. They've got Dracs with them," said Jet, already shifting into shooting position in the passenger seat; Party cursed, and fumbled to get the keys back in the ignition.

"Fuck, I can't see anything - how do you know that? Where'd you spot them?" The Trans Am roared to life, and Party gunned it down the front side of the outcrop, keeping an eye on the rearview while he dug his gun out of its holster and passed it to Jet.

"I...didn't," said Jet, sounding surprised, and Party cut a glance at him; Jet was staring straight out the windshield, guns in both hands, aimed at the roof. "I just got a feeling."

A ray gun blast whizzed past the driver's side window and glanced off the side mirror. Party jumped, and looked back to the rearview; sure enough, an Exterminator car rose up over the hill behind them, with a Drac hanging out the back window. "Hell of a feeling," he said, and barked out a laugh. "Holy shit, are you psychic now?"

Jet, cranking the passenger window down, shot him a grin before he turned around in the seat. "I guess I'll let you know!"

---------------------------------

It was another couple months before other Killjoy cliques and Zone dwellers started complaining of their own mutations. They ranged from the superficial and mundane Party-esque changes all the way to the X-men level shit Jet and Kobra got. Only two factors were consistent across the board - everyone who got them had been living out in the Zones for at least three months, and they’d all had some kind of clap with Dracs. The major breakthrough came from Kobra, who’d appointed himself lead researcher, when he figured out there was a positive correlation between the severity of the mutation and how many Dracs you’d killed - i.e., the higher your body count, the crazier your mutation.

“I don’t know exactly what it is about killing them that’s causing this, though,” he admitted, after coming to the rest of them with the data.

“I bet it’s the masks,” said Ghoul. “Who knows what kinda freaky shit powers those things? They wipe your fuckin’ soul!”

“Yeah, but you don’t always destroy their masks when you kill them,” Jet pointed out, rubbing his exposed eye. The psychic thing only worked, they’d learned, when Jet’s regular vision was dimmed - he thought it was super annoying to wear sunglasses all the time, so he’d taken to wearing an eyepatch. It worked, and it was totally awesome. Party had sewed him a little star pattern for it. “It’s gotta be something you’re exposed to every time.”

Party frowned, thinking back to all the claps they’d been in since they got out to the Zones. Was there anything that happened every single time? Did he get near one of them every time? Definitely not. The closest he got to actually touching Dracs was standing too close when they got hit by slugs and bled on him.

Wait. Was that -

“Holy shit,” he said out loud, and the other three all looked at him. “Is it - is it their blood? Like, touching it?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” Ghoul moaned instantly, covering his face with both hands. “Ugh, Party, that’s fucking disgusting, and the awful thing is I think you’re fucking right.”

Better Living themselves spared them the world’s most vile follow-up experiment by confirming their suspicions in a radio broadcast Dr. D picked up and recorded. Not in as many words - as usual, there was some jargon they didn’t know how to parse, and it was all in Japanese - but definitely something about how exposure to Drac blood could poison you. Of course, that concept set the collective Zone-dwelling imagination on fire; a nuclear answer to the age old question of what drinking vampire blood will do to a mortal, which apparently was superpowers. News hit the zine syndicate, and before the Fab Four could warn anyone that the mutations would absolutely get weirder the more you exposed yourself, the latest Killjoy craze was chugging Drac blood to see what kind of crazy shit would happen to you.

Which turned out to be: a painful physical ordeal in the vein of ayahuasca consumption, first of all. Once you got past the delirium tremors and projectile vomiting, though, it wasn’t all bad. And sometimes, if you were really lucky, at the end of it you sprouted wings or could blow shit up with your mind or talk to dead people.

Party never did have normal hair again.

[theangrypokemaniac]

Since I rant enough about the wizening Ma and Pa received in Sinnoh it's only right to wreak bloody rhetorical vengeance elsewhere:

However harsh it may be, I'm glad Takeshi Shudo isn't alive to witness the hateful desecration of his legacy.

...

In a universe where no one's allowed to age, why are the modern Jessie and James so withered and decrepit?

Dragon Ball has been on for more than three decades. Its stars were permitted to grow up, because the head can cope with the opportunities this offers.

Yet Goku, Krillin, Bulma et al bear a greater similarity to their younger selves than these gurning invertebrates do to Team Rocket, wearing a papery approximation of their skin.

Akira Toriyama is actually concerned about his life's work, still coming up with interesting concepts, brand-new characters, and most importantly, values his audience by keeping to the established canon.

If a Dragon Ball fan reads this, I am so jealous of you.

Consider yourselves fortunate not to have seen the thing you loved the most pulverised and the resulting glutinous mass moulded back into makeshift sloppy cadavers.

Look at the state of that man! That's a good picture these days!

Why have the eyelid lines turned into upside down bags?

And why has she collected her lashes for this particular screen shot?

On eyes with a strangely feline slant...

Has she had a face lift?

Get yer money back on that one, love.

And why has he marks under his eyes and round his flapping gob to add the hint of exhaustion?

And why don't her lips reach the edge of her mouth anymore?

And why must he display Beaver Toof, as if he's only got six pegs left?

Giving it to him but not her implies she's lost the lot, needing to gum objects for a result.

And why do her low-slung ears consist only of lobe?

And why can you see his featureless lugs? Why does his barnet stand outwards in tentacles like he's taken to wearing a floppy Starmie?

What's that's meant to be, purple dreadlocks?

And why is her hairline curved and absolutely straight, like a bad wig, apart from the perfunctory bits to the side, which I guarantee won't alter their position throughout the run?

Hair used to move about, now by law there's a set pattern which cannot change. Stamp that life out immediately.

And what's that flaccid growth between his weary peepers? Is that meant to be fringe?

PFFFT!!!

And why are her digits just as thick and oblong as his?

It ain't fingers. It's trotters.

And why's he got a back to his throat, but she hasn't?

And why are we forced to witness it? You can see all the way to his dangler!

The great gaping pink cave looks like the end of Looney Tunes when Porky Pig pops up and stammers: "That's all folks!"

Remember a lack of Beaver Toof? And triangular mouths?

Remember when Meowth was a cheeky, spirited little cat, not a middle-aged human midget, an emaciated wreck bored of it all?

Remember when it wasn't deemed necessary to expose us to internal organs?

And when James was a handsome, hysterically camp dandy, not a creepy, snot-ridden science dweeb?

And when Jessie was a beautiful, stylish young girl, hot-tempered but loyal, not a sullen, cold, reptilian, Botoxed-to-the-gills gorgon?

Remember when Team Rocket were fun? And attractive?

Remember when they had joy in their hearts in spite of their poverty? And vim? And hope?

Remember them acting with flair and imagination?

Remember when their schemes had variety?

Remember when they had more than a single disguise per era?

Remember when they had many occupations? And were good at them?

Remember when they'd have a go at everything and weren't reduced to flipping condemned meat in a grotty burger van FOR THREE YEARS?!

Remember when those in charge didn't despise them, when they got happy endings?

Remember split screens? And face faults? And background tones? And purple streaks down your cheeks?

Remember big, bright open eyes, not shrunken, sagging and empty holes afflicted by glaucoma?

Remember when Jessie had eyelashes?

Remember when Pokémon was an anime?

And when James had a fringe, not a bent swelling like a balloon animal?

And when the artist could be arsed to draw Meowth's Charm properly?

Remember when the voices weren't nails down a blackboard?

When Meowth didn't sound like a wedge of coal grinding beneath an oil-deprived door?

When Jessie's dulcet tones had a wider range that just screechy, and weren't reminiscent of a cacophonous banshee clawing her way from a bog, using her own mug as a shovel?

When James speaking didn't suggest he was at best, suffering sinus difficulties, and at worst, constantly battling to swallow his own sick from looking at her?

Mind you, I'm grateful the 4Kids cast are no longer here. They deserve better, and their presence would only validate the crude bastardisations.

Every time the guttural howls reach my poor ears a chill runs through my system, and reminds me of The Pokémon Company sacking the real dub crew in preference for a job done on the cheap.

Remember speed lines? And Pokéball-throwing animation?

Remember a new motto performance in each installment, not the same stock footage reused again and again?

Remember when it rhymed?

It shows.

Remember remembering it?

Remember when Team Rocket would walk down the street in their uniforms and no one took a blind bit of notice despite the organisation operating there?

And they didn't fanny about in one scabby polyester costume every minute they were travelling, even when NO ONE KNOWS WHO THEY ARE?

Since Unova, whilst confronting Ash and this era's soon-to-be-forgotten companions, you get this exchange:

Moron-Of-The-Week: "Who are Team Rocket?"

Ash: "They're bad guys who steal other people's Pokémon."

EVERY SINGLE BLOODY TIME!!!

WORD-FOR-WORD IDENTICAL!!!

The writers have such deep appreciation for their work they're sending in cut-and-paste scripts.

Remember blasting off when something blew up, not an explosion from nowhere, or giving it the slip with a jet pack, or abduction by a Care Bear?

Remember when the eyebrows matched the hair?

Remember when he wore it long?

Remember blue shock? And sweat drop? And hammerspace? And comedy violence?

Remember her jagged hairline? And it being RED!!!

Remember proper highlights to it, rather than the odd white lump now and again, as if sweating like a pig, or their heads are infested with giant space ticks?

Remember when they were in all the episodes? And were main characters? And on the introduction sequence?

Remember when Jessie and James used to hug? And hold hands?

And bicker as only a couple can, but you knew they'd never cope alone?

Remember when they'd fly into each other's arms under the flimsiest pretext?

Remember when they meant more to one another than just being a pair of unconnected and disembodied wraiths coincidentally walking down the same road?

And they had more than civil interactions?

Remember when she loved him as much as he loved her?

And no one else could ever take his place?

And canon wasn't infected with the ruinous depiction of her as a hard, heartless bitch barely tolerating him until someone 'better' came along, at which point she'd fuck off without a backwards glance?

'Better', as in a scabby, satchel-mouthed, gormless cretin, just to add surly insult to merciless injury.

Never has such a life-long and hardcore defender of the faith flipped into an ardent Rumishipper as I did after that episode, once I'd swept up the fragments of my soul.

Remember when they were sympathetic?

Remember when they showed human warmth?

Remember when they cared about each other?

Remember when they weren't just a jangling, distorted mess of half-recollected traits?

Remember when they weren't really evil?

Remember Rocketshipping? That was a thing once, believe it or not.

Remember when they had a conscience?

Remember when actually wicked characters turned up, and Team Rocket ALWAYS sided with Ash, rather than the nauseating spectacle of suddenly being best buds with the Boss?

Remember when they had contact with the Twerps?

Remember when Team Rocket and the Twerps loved each other in secret and would endanger themselves to save their 'enemies'?

Everything that was once good and winning about them was sucked out, degree by degree, to leave the corpse, hollow and dead, strung up on wires as a grim marionette.

I'm sure most who see this will vehemently disagree, that I'm completely wrong, that THEY like them.

Yes, you like this three, but you don't like Team Rocket. This is not them. You have yours, and I have mine, but let's not pretend they are the same.

Why, if there is no difference, would I be so hostile, when they meant so much too me?

Did you ever wonder where the original fans went, why they all departed en masse? It's not because they 'moved on' or 'matured'.

They didn't leave Pokémon. Pokémon left them.

As the makers rely so heavily on repetition (sorry, nostalgia) they arrogantly expect us to still be here, having blithely welcomed our memories minced and our canon ripped up or ripped off, apparently.

We're intended to put up with watching them lay waste to ťhe series's body, clinging on for when a rotting bone is pulled up now and again and waved at us, before they chuck it aside to continue the dismemberment.

It's been eaten from the inside out, explaining the facial collapse. Behold the beauty on show:

You see what I mean, don't you?

Don't you? No, because otherwise you'd say the same.

How anyone feels able to describe three deformed freaks as 'hot' or 'cute' I will never comprehend.

The uniform collar protrudes like a solid pipe, emphasising the pencil necks.

It gives the impression of wrinkled, leathery tortoises peering out of their shells to secure a tasty lettuce treat.

Is that pretty? No.

Is it so surprising I don't care for my favourites to resemble melted waxwork skeletons of their own dæmonic counterparts?

S&M is a most fitting name, for this is torture.

In the film Death Becomes Her, Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn vie for the attention of Bruce Willis, both taking a serum giving everlasting youth and slimness.

The catch is it confers immortality, but not invulnerability, so when pushed down the stairs Meryl survives but is dead, her neck broken, thus she's zipped up in the morgue fridge.

When Goldie is shot with a canon she too rises, internal organs blown out.

The rest of the adventure involves the pair losing the war against time, patching up and painting over peeling grey skin, holding onto loose limbs as their bodies fall apart.

This obviously is the case here. The trio lapped the potion up at the close of Sinnoh, experienced a fatal accident and are now steadily crumbling to mush before us.

According to grave-diggers the head always goes first, so there you are then.

I have a suspicion that Giovanni lured all three to his crypt, experimenting on them to engineer his ultimate super soldier, which explains their flat, plastic appearance. Those since Unova began are the cyborgs, the real ones locked in his cellar.

You may notice I have about the lowest opinion possible of the current writing team, as they deserve.

Why should I have any respect for vindictive halfwits like this, who hate Team Rocket so much they're going out of their way to distort and uglify them, expressing the resentment in celluloid?

Jessie, James and Meowth lost their only defender in Takeshi Shudo. From that point they descended from loveable, hapless tragic figures to self-parodies (Hoenn) whiney, irritating divs dumping one another at every interval (Sinnoh), robotic, amoral scum (Unova and Kalos) and now physically repulsive minor additions (Alola and Galar). Is that trajectory all accidental?

It not that it's a new 'style' (for want of a better word), as were that the case, this hideousness would apply to the entire cast, but it's only done to Team Rocket. How could that be unless motivated by malice?

Given the sub thesps are obliged to prostrate themselves in the dust, begging fans to make their appreciation known, it smacks of desperation.

They wouldn't need to ask that were the trio treated as an integral component. They must sense the objections and are thus drumming up support to avoid the dole queue.

Are those in charge so resentful of their presence it manifests in mutilating them, keen to do anything that may alienate the fanbase, so at the first sign of a dip in popularity they can leap upon it as the perfect excuse to write Team Rocket out?

Why be surprised? These are imbeciles who reject their own canon at the close of every generation, so why care about someone else's?

If people have to harangue the writers with grovelling praise of their retcons, rehashes and all-round twatting about, butter 'em up sufficiently, with the implied threat of deserting the franchise should Team Rocket be ejected, taking their purses too, all so the smug, avaricious berks deign to put the trio in the next generation, that proves they don't want them, so how can what they write for their characters be objectively of any worth?

Team Rocket would've departed by now, were there not a palpable worry their absence might ring the death knell of the whole thing, turning off the financial tap, which is what matters.

Therefore they are retained, grudgingly, and only so long as the clamour continues at its current decibel level. If that drops it's over, and don't expect a romantic resolution. Why should pleasing you be a concern when you're to leave with them?

Ask yourself: how much of your devotion is based on what they are right now, and how much is from who they used to be?

How long can they live off past glories?

The offences done in Unova and Kalos were bad enough, but remarkably Game Freak found further depths to plumb, therefore it can only get worse.

I have of course retained the loveliest for last:

Be still, my beating heart.

No, really, be still. Stop infact. 

Planet of the Apes.

[phantom-soldat]

Meeting Sebastian Stan. 

This is not an opportunity I ever expected to have, at least not anytime soon. When he was first announced to be a guest at MCM Comic Con (London, May 2019) I had a bunch of people tagging me in the announcement post. Sebastian is an actor that means a lot to me - He’s caring and has struggled with a lot of the same things that I struggle with; from anxiety to depression, and generally being a bit lost in the world. We’ve all seen the posts of him commenting on fan’s posts, giving them advice while simultaneously putting more positivity and support into the world. For this reason, and more, he is incredibly inspiring and important to me. I aspire to be as supportive, caring, loving, goofy and giving as this man. 

So, when he was announced, I knew I had to meet him. For me, it wasn’t an option: I had to. It was simply too important for me not to. 

One thing I had wanted to do before I met him was get a tattoo of the Winter Soldier, however, due to money issues and time, etc, I had never had the opportunity to get one before comic con. Until comic-con. Another opportunity came up when MCM announced that they were having tattoo artists at the convention, and so I booked in with a lovely lady by the name of Laura, from Empire INK in Edinburgh. Thankfully, I managed to save up enough money for the tattoo - Through both selling possessions and saving up money from my day-job. 

She was absolutely lovely and great with communicating the design I had in mind. I wanted something to match the other tattoos on the opposite arm; a portrait, with his signature at the bottom (on my opposite arm I have a Hela portrait). The Bucky tattoo would be on my left inner forearm, covering self-harm scars with something - someone/a character - that means so much to me. Bucky, much like myself, has been through a lot of mental issues. He’s lost, finding his way, but despite all of the issues he’s had? He’s made it through it all, he’s continued fighting despite all of the challenges he’s faced... and that’s something I can remind myself: I can fight and get through the challenges I face. I will survive, and have survived. The significance of this tattoo, and getting Sebastian to sign it, was and is extremely important to me. 

Which leads to the first picture. 

First picture.  So, on the first day of comic-con (the Friday) Sebastian wasn't there. This was the day I booked in for a full-day session for my tattoo. Laura, my artist, was absolutely ecstatic as she’s also a fan of the guy, and was super pumped to find out that Sebastian would be seeing her work. The session lasted for, roughly, seven hours with only one five-minute break for both my artist and I to have something to eat. During the course of the tattoo, the MCM staff came up to view the process of the tattoo; the security were very excited about it, and got the media team to come down to the section of the hall where all of the tattoo artists were. It was all very exciting, talking to them was lovely - They were all so supportive, kind and frequently returned throughout the course of the day to see the process. Alas, the media team turned up and took a few photos: One of which winded up on the MCM social media sites: Instagram, Facebook, Twitter. Both Laura and I freaked out, it was getting a lot of attention. 

Second/third picture.  Saturday came around fairly quickly. This was the day where I would try to get my autograph - The day I HAD to get it, as to not disturb the healing process of my tattoo. I was dressed as Wakanda Bucky that day, deciding to cosplay something more comfortable due to both the pain from my arm, the hot weather, and the fact that I couldn’t restrict my arm in tight costumes. 

Before the convention, I had put together a little gift-box for Sebastian to give back to him the love, care and gratitude he gives to his fans. Inside, there was a Winter Soldier book (Civil War) that I had made him; personalised on the inside to, firstly, look like it held Winter Soldier documents which lead on to messages I had collected from fans. All stories about how he had changed their lives for the better, how he had made a positive impact on the world. I included other gifts, too, like a t-shirt (that says ‘Straight Outta Cryo’, much like his ‘Straight Outta Romania’ shirt), some drawings of mine, a Bucky, Nat and Sam tsum-tsum and a little lego figurine of Bucky. 

So, with the box in my arms, I waited for about an hour and a half in the autograph queue. Although I missed his panel, it was worth it, because I knew that if I had attended that I would only spend more time waiting, and less time with my friends later on. 

While waiting in the queue, I was alone and full of anxiety. This was a big moment for me. I’d actually see him. Meet him. Something I’d been waiting for years and years to have the opportunity for. People were trying to snag sneaky pictures of him: going on their friends shoulders just to get a peak of the infamous Seb Stan. 

Eventually, it was my turn to walk up to the table where he was signing. Due to the sheer amount of people that were there, it was very rushed, for they wanted to get through as many people as possible: I knew this going in, and so I’d been going over and over what I’d say to him in my head. With a smile, he greeted me; it was clear that he was tired, having flown in the previous morning and hadn’t stopped working since. Rumour has it he worked through his breaks to continue meeting fans - between the photo-ops, the panels and the signings he must have been really exhausted, with jet-lag on top of that, and so I felt really bad for the guy. 

In brief words I explained my gift to him, and he smiled and let out a laugh upon hearing what the t-shirt said. At the time he didn’t open the box, because it was simply too busy to do so and the convention staff were pushing him to continue  going through as many people as he could. In the panel I had missed, or the panel the next day (I can’t remember which one) I believe he referenced this and said how he wished he could spend more time with us all, and talk to us all properly. I still treasure every second I got to spend with him, though, because as previously stated, it was a moment that is extremely close to heart, and I know a lot of people wouldn’t have had this opportunity (this was also why I gathered fan messages, so that I could give him something from them in-case they never do have this opportunity). 

The convention staff got me to show him what I wanted signed: Most people brought posters, or pop-vinyls, but I showed him my arm and said I’d like my wrist tattooed. He delicately held my hand and arm as he signed it, and then I was on my way once I had thanked him. 

Afterwards, I immediately called up my bestfriend and burst into tears. I had met him. I had thanked him. I had given him a gift and, now, I would have his autograph on me forever, knowing that I have a very personal reminder to myself: I can do this. Whatever ‘this’ is, I can do it. 

Due to the overwhelming emotions I was having, the busy crowds, the heat, and the pain and toll the tattoo session the previous day had caused me, I did have quite a big panic-attack. During this time, I had to go outside and get some fresh air, but my best-friend stayed on the phone with me and calmed me down - I am eternally grateful for his friendship and support, and for moments like these when he helps ground me back to reality. 

This leads on to the next photo; where, once I’d had some fresh air, a drink and some food, I went back inside to get the signature tattooed. Once again, Laura and I freaked out over it, and I told her all about it excitedly as she finished up tattooing the autograph and shading around it. She even went back over the little red star at the top of my wrist, which Seb had signed over. Laura did an amazing job with the tattoo, and worked the signature into it flawlessly. I can’t thank her enough. 

Sunday.  This was the day that my photo-op was booked (that was an entire process of its own. Tickets sold out within 2-3 minutes - I am so, SO thankful that I managed to snag one). Much like the autograph process, the MCM staff were trying to get through as many people as possible, and so the entire thing was very ‘click and go’. Generally, this is the case with photo-ops at conventions - It’s less personal, more of a ‘capture the moment’ type of thing. 

On this day, I was dressed as Black Widow from The Winter Soldier. It wasn’t the best costume I have ever worn, admittedly, but I was excited for my photo-op none the less. My costume broke on the way to the con, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me, and once again I was waiting in a long line for one last moment with Sebastian. 

I knew that he likes Bucky and Natasha’s relationship in the comics, and that he would’ve liked them to be together in the movies. This is a ship that I also sail, along with Stucky, but I thought that being Nat would be a lot better as it’s also something that he enjoys. I actually managed to capture a sneaky video on my phone of me approaching him during the photo-op. They were very strict about no-photos apart from the one you paid for, which I understand, but at the same time, this was too important for me not to try and grab sneaky videos, etc. So I did. Sue me. (Please don’t, I’m going to be a poor student soon). 

As I approached him during the photo-op, he looked a lot less tired, which I was thankful to see. He greeted me with a smile once more, and I showed him my finished tattoo - I kind of stood my ground and spoke to him very briefly before the photo-op was taken. Most people were conveyor belted through their sessions with him, but I was determined to show him the finished product. With a smile and an expression somewhat akin to awe, he said that it was amazing. We soon moved onto talking about what I wanted for the photo-op, and it took a split second for us both to get into position. 

I wanted to look as if we were dancing romantically, as Natasha has a history of ballet. The final photo in the post was my photo-op, and I couldn’t be happier with it. It was a very full-on weekend, but I enjoyed every second of it. 

Thank you MCM for giving me, and others, the opportunity to meet such an amazing man. Thank you Sebastian for flying all the way to London to take the time to meet your fans in England. Thank you Laura, for being an amazing tattoo-artist and for the nerdy talks we had during my tattoo session, and for giving me a piece of work on my art that is very, very treasured to me; and, finally, thank you to all of my friends for supporting and loving me, for continuously encouraging me to step out of my comfort zone and to keep on fighting. 

And continue fighting on I will, just like Bucky. 

[xxxsunnybabes]

Gold Pt. 2

You were trapped. His onyx eyes seeped into yours like water seeped into cracks. He was a snake or a mind reader. You didn't really know. He knew you but you didn't know him. You didn't know any of them. But you felt safe.

Rating: T/M

Warnings: slight B x B (oral (m receiving), mentions of torture, my weird sandwich cravings, slight pinning, Hoseok being a possessive, manipulative little shit, Y/N moan!ng like crazy because, food. Do I really need to explain food?, Jet lag being too real

Word Count: 3k

A/N: I'm sorry it took so long! And I couldn't even write a long chapter for you guys. 😔

@kelly96q @the-spanishinquisition @dreamingmavis @superheros-and-others @xsmilebitesx @mariacorbi @leftflowerprunedonut @givemeletea @bangtanlove16

Pt. 0 | Pt. 1

The morning light was painful as you woke. The midnight blue sheets on you were too heavy and not warm enough. You used your forearm to sit upright and looked around the room in search of something. Or was it someone? There were things you were forgetting. Like, how did you get here? What happened last night? Why don't you remember anything besides getting in a taxi?

You breathed in slowly, hoping to stop your imagination before it started. You decided to retrace your steps with your memories. There was only a slight itch in your throat so it couldn't have been more than two days. You pulled the ivory colored sheets off you and slid to the foot of the bed. You dipped a toe down, like testing a pool's temperature, praying that the tile wasn't too cold. "I don't have shoes on and my clothes are gone," You noted as you played with the midnight blue slip you were wearing. The tile was actually warm so you put both of your bare feet on it. Once you were standing a knock sliced through the room.

Your head snapped to the door it had originated from. You pulled at the two door handles that were closest to you to try and find a way to escape. The french door led to a garden that was more twigs and weeds than flowers but maybe that would be safer than whoever was behind that door. You gave the handles one final yank even though it was clear that they were locked.There were no windows and only two other doors; the one the mystery person knocked on was in front of you and the other was to your left. What if the door to the left held something worse? It was completely 50/50 so you went with your gut

Each step you took to your chosen door made you feel more and more like a pig going for slaughter.

The person didn't waste a second and slid into the room like a snake going in for the kill. But when his light brown eyes with dark specks that looked like red met yours, you felt a calm sense of deja Vu. You took a second to take him in. You couldn't quite tell if the thick black lines shaped like scales around hs eyes were eyeliner or bags, maybe both. He was built like a rock and there was something almost supernatural about him. You watched the muscles in his arm twitch as he closed the door behind him.

"You're prettier then they said," he muttered as he looked at you and then gave you a breathtaking smirk, "I'll let you check me out." He sounds so- friendly? But his gaze was searing. You gave him a small smile, "Sounds like you're the one checking me out." He held his hands up in defeat, "Caught red-handed." You should be scared, you know you should be. But something about his playful attitude puts you at ease. He ran a hand through his velvety chocolate hair, "Aren't you hungry? I bet you have questions too," You nodded and he sat on the edge of the bed, "Shoot."

"One, where am I? Two, what happened last night? Three, who are you? And most importantly," You played with the silk slip again (you're pretty sure cost more than your college tuition), "Who dressed me, and where can I change?"

"Some of those questions are not mine to answer. I can tell you this though: I, pretty lady, am Park Jimin and I'm the one dressed you." He walked to the door and opened it before pointing to something in the back corner, "You see that bureau? There are clothes there. I'll wait outside and then we'll head to the kitchen."

You're disturbed that a stranger changed you but- "It's so pretty." You noticed there were little silver sparkles on the dress, making it look like stars at night. "You'll have to thank Taehyung then." You gave him a questioning look but he stopped you, "You'll see, princess."

He then walked out so you could change. It was pointless though, seeing as he had clothed you. You walked to the bureau and froze, it was identical to the one you had back home. You pulled at the top right drawer and sure enough, it had underthings, just like back home. You pulled at the most comfortable looking ones and laid them on the bed. You then grabbed a pair of navy blue jeans (middle drawer) and a tan sweatshirt (bottom right drawer).

You carefully lay the slip on the bed and walked out of the door Jimin had also gone out of. He was standing to your left in a 'cool guy pose' like you see in cheesy romcom movies. Before you could say anything, he took your hand and led you to a room adjacent to yours. You tugged quickly on his hand, causing him to stumble back a little, "Wait, I forgot to ask you something. What about my grandmother?" He turned slowly to you and you swear his eyes flashed a deep violet and then you forgot what you just said, no memory of why you came to Korean in the first place left.

He pushed against the dark granite door and it creaked open eerily. The room was a dark red and it reminded you of crusted blood. There were Royal Blue couches lining the corners of the room and glass table of the same color in the center of it all. There were probably about twenty people on the couches and almost all surrounded one person, a man with sea green hair. There a male around twenty that was so pretty you almost mistook him for a girl that was slowly sucking off the green haired man. Jimin clapped twice, singlaning some to leave. The pretty boy gave him one last bob of his head before the turquoise haired boy slipped his hands through the pretty boy’s silky black locks and released deep into his throat. The raven haired raised from his knees and smiled at the slightly red and angry cock standing proudly beneath him. The sea boy licked his lips while pushing some of the release that had leaked from the boy’s lips and allowing him to suck on his thumb a little. The sight was incredibly hot but some part of you was jealous at the attention the black haired, grey eyed pretty boy was getting.

Everyone filtered out except six people that were still sitting on the couches, one in particular that you recognized. “You!” you yelled as you grabbed his collar, “Explain to me how and why i’m here, right now. And don’t tell me you don’t recognize me, Jung Hoseok!” He growled slightly and the bridge of his nose wrinkled slightly like a wolf’s; but instead of scaring you and causing you to let go of his shirt like he planned, you held his shirt tighter. “What happened last night? Where in hell’s lair am I?” But instead of answering your questions he flipped you onto the couch, held you there, and then addressed the others with a power hungry smile, “Introductions first?” They all nodded and sat even closer to you. You had noticed from the second you yelled at hoseok that some of the six had moved closer, like they were drawn to you.

What looked to be the youngest stood in the center of the room and yelled nervously like he was auditioning for the first time, “Hi! I’m Jungkook. It’s- um- nice to meet you, Y/N!” He smiled nervously before half hopping to sit next to Jimin, who nudged the blue haired boy to speak next. You blushed profusely when he leaned over and made direct, inescapable eye contact with you, “The name’s Taehyung, Kim Taehyung. Welcome to the house of weirdos, I hope you survive.” He then gave you a boyish smile that did not go at all with the noises that he had been making just ten minutes ago. You looked over at the right side of the couch, which still had three people you had yet to meet. Before they could introduce themselves, your stomach growled absurdly loudly. You looked pleadingly at Jimin with a slight pout in your lips he gave you a slow smile that caused his eyes to scrunch before talking to one of the guys from the right couch, “Are you going to show her the kitchen, Jin-Hyung or will I?”

Said male took your hand from Hoseok, who you hadn’t realized was holding it. Before leading you out the door you had entered from and turning to the left. After about a minute of walking in what was, surprisingly, not awkward silence, he pivoted on his heal and smirked as he took you into a steel door, “So you’re Y/N?” You smiled slightly at him, “The one and only.” Ew, why did your voice sound like a prepubescent boy? “Are you going to answer my questions or are you going to fatten me up so you can eat me?” you joked. You had expected his eyes to darken like the others had before but, his didn’t. You didn’t realize it until you were in a room alone with him, but he felt the most normal. The room you had been in previously had felt stuffy with supernatural and restless energy.

He pulled out a skillet and started the burner, “What would you like? I can make almost anything.” You thought for a second but nothing came to mind so you said, “Surprise me.” The happy flicker in his eyes seemed to say ‘ I hoped you’d say that.’ You mapped out the room as he got everything out and in order for what he was making. There were white marble tiles covering the floor and halfway up the wall and the rest of the wall and ceiling were painted except the wall that had the oven, dishwasher, refrigerator,and cabinet space, which was painted a plain black. About 3 feet to the right of the door was a island that had a built in hibachi table and could also double as a dining table. The stools were black with silver accents and wrapped around the island. Seokjin had laid out cauliflower, persuto, olive bread, and provolone.

He began frying the persuto and olive bread in a cast iron pan and while they fried he cut up the cauliflower. He turned the presuto and olive bread over with tongs so they would get toasted evenly before placing the bread on a plate, placing provolone, persuto, and the cauliflower on one slice, and then cutting the sandwich in half and sliding it to your seat. You licked hungrily, “Thank you, Jin,” and then dug in happily, groaning from the first bite. You continued to eat and pulled some of the grilled cheese off the sandwich and swallowed it, moaning eagerly. One of the two boys you still had to be introduced to walked in during your moan fest.

This one has bleach blonde hair and was probably the tallest out of all of them, "Wow, hyung. You only made her a sandwich? We both know you can do better than that." You raised your hand childishly before Seokjin could respond, "This, is the tastiest sandwich I have ever had. I need to know where you get this stuff and if it can be shipped to my home."

"Home?" The blonde's eyes had turned a milky white, "This is your home now." Seokjin grabbed the male's shoulder, "Namjoon, you're scaring her." You hadn't realized it, but you had moved to the furthest seat from Namjoon. His eyes bordered on transparent and you could see all the blood vessels in them. He seemed to grow taller and from your angle you couldn't see that his feet had actually came off the ground and he was hovering. Just then, the last person you had to meet pushed open the door and pressed what looked like a cross to Namjoon's chest.

Namjoon returned to his normal height and black-grey eye color. He rubbed his breast where the older male had pressed the cross, "Thanks, Yoongi-hyung." It was all too much, the eye colors constantly changing, the suffocating energy, the halls that were all the same black stone… everything was too much to take in at once. So your body did what it always did when you were overwhelmed, it gave out and you fell onto the cool white tile.

///Hoseok's POV///

As soon as you left with Jin we all sighed. Your presence was so strong and even though it might take a while to get use to, we were already craving more of it. Your energy enhanced ours and the new power pushed at our most powerful body parts. I felt it most in my legs and I couldn't stop stretching them. I looked around and noticed Taehyung scratching his shoulder blades, Jungkook chewing uncomfortably at his gums, Jimin's eyes were watering and his nails had grown significantly, and Namjoon was slightly hovering. Of course, Yoongi wasn't affected.

Namjoon was the first to give in, "I'm fallowing them." I grabbed his wrist and pulled him close enough to my face that he couldn't look away, "Don't lose control. She doesn't know the affect she has on us." He nodded tightly and speed walked to the kitchen. I sighed and leaned back into the couches. I could hear Jimin shuffling from the other side of the room and could smell the fear radiating off him. "What is it, Jimin?"

"I know I got to know her the least out of all of us, but I remember her being extremely clever and sharp, especially when it came to us." I turned to him, "And your point is?" He played with his fingers a little, "Even if we don't tell her, she'll figure it out." I growled slightly, I knew he was right. "Then how do you suggest we tell her, Jimin?"

"I, um-" we all felt it at the same time but Yoongi was the first to react. He was off the couch in seconds and speeding down to the kitchen. I was next and the rest followed me. By the time we reached the kitchen, Yoongi had calmed down Namjoon and Y/N had fainted.

I picked you of the floor and held you close, I had missed holding you so much. I kissed your forehead and turned to Namjoon, "I'm going to lay her in my room and then I'm going to deal with you."

He looked terrified and I knew it was more out of worry for you then worry for himself. I took you to my room, which was connected to yours, and laid you down in my fur sheets. Hopefully you would find these was warmer than the others. Once I was satisfied that you were warm and comfy I went to the room in the basement that we had for torture. Namjoon was already there and was sitting in his knees in the center.

I grabbed the closest tool to me and turned to him, "Are you ready?"

///2nd Person (Y/N's POV)///

You woke about an hour after Hoseok had laid you down. There was a slight knock on the door and you said I tired 'Come in'. It was Taehyung, "Did I wake you?" You shook your head with a smile and tried to tame your hair, "What is it?" He looked almost shy and mumbled sightly, "Did you like the slip?" You laughed a little a little in your head, 'Cute'. You grabbed both of his hands and he blushed with one of his boxy smiles, "I thought it was beautiful, Taehyung."

His eyes lit up, "Can I make you another one?" You smiled again because it was hard not to, he was a puppy, "Sure!" He let go of your hands and walked to the door, "Hoseok-hyung will come for you soon." You nodded and waved as he left. You layed back down and slept for about another thirty minutes. Jet lag is no joke, people.

You woke to Hoseok playing with your hoodie's strings. "Where is Namjoon?" He growled, he seemed to do that a lot, "He won't be able to walk for a little." You gapsed, "What did you do to him?" He ignored your question like he always did and pushed your shoulder slightly so you would lay down. "I'll answer all your questions if you sleep for a little longer." Almost like a spell, you fell asleep at soon as your head hit the pillow.

///Hoseok's POV///

I heard Jimin open the door, "Will you really answer her questions?" I turned to him with a possessive smile, "Maybe. It might be fun to watch her squirm and try and find out the truth though."

[nomadicism]

Be careful about having high expectations for Gen Lock. The series is created by Rooster Teeth Productions, who tend be to hit and miss. They created great series like Camp Camp, but they also created RWBY, which has a rep for having terrible writing in the later seasons. Characters are unlikable or Mary Sues; the plot is poorly structured and it made a lot of questionable choices. At this point, it could be either or. Only time will tell if it's the next Camp Camp or RWBY.

and

“I would be careful about having high expectations for Gen Lock if I were you. Gen Lock is created by Roaster Teeth Productions, who are also the creators of RWBY. That series went down hill after the 3rd season. Granted some of it had to do with the creator dying, but the writing dipped in quality. After watching the first and second ep, it reminds me a lot of VLD, including the humour. Reviewers said it didn’t dive into character motivation or any of the world building by the 5 ep point.”

Hi Anon, thank you for the Asks!

Given the wording of both of these, I assume they are both from you.

I’m going to try to reign in my salt here, but you happened to hit more than a few buttons with your Ask. Gonna keep this as brief as I can to focus on the core of my answer. I promise I’m not grumpy.

The opening sentence in both of these Asks does not come across well. I can give the benefit of the doubt b/c this is the Internet, but uh…yeah.

RWBY continues to enjoy great popularity and comes up frequently on my dash. I’ve never seen it, it’s definitely not my thing, but it’s still selling to someone, and my VLD mutuals that love it are still talking it up so I’m glad that they have another show to entertain them. I see merch everywhere, it’s got a Japanese dub and a manga adaptation and that’s pretty damn good for a web cartoon that came out of the U.S. Must not be that terrible as whole to merit all of that.

“Mary Sue” is a phrase that means absolutely nothing because everyone overuses it to mean any number of things about competent and powerful female characters, and most of them are incredibly subjective, and rarely ever applied to male characters who meet the same kinds of subjective goal-post shifting criteria.

Perhaps gen:LOCK will simply be the “first gen:LOCK” and not the “next anything.”

I didn’t find the humor in gen:LOCK to be like VLD at all.

Reviewers can eat my asshole.

And on that note:

Not every story benefits from a deep dive, or even a superficial exploration of character motivation or world-building.

Such things are very genre and plot dependent, and the perception of such is subjective.

Some of the greatest short stories, or even long-form novels don’t even bother with much of either if they are not necessary to advance the plot. Not everything needs to be Lord of the Rings or Ulysses.

Who had better “character motivation”, Frodo Baggins from the LotR trilogy or Ripely from Alien? What would “better” even mean for either of those genres? LotR and Alien are worlds apart, and yet, at the end of the day, the protagonists are fighting for survival against an unspeakable horror. The “journey” of their survival differs greatly, and those journeys are the point, the character motivations are really minimal and don’t require a lot of exploration.

Frodo’s character motivation can be summed up as: “save the fucking Shire by destroying a cursed evil ring” and a little bit of “Uncle Bilbo ruined me for the simple Hobbit life with his crazy stories.” While Ripley’s motivation is: “kill the xenomorphs before they kill me and my cat.” That’s it. Don’t even need in-character exposition or a flashback to describe Ripley’s. The genre hands it to you on a blood-soaked silver platter.

I don’t know what those reviewers were watching but the “character motivation” of the main characters that I saw in the pilot episode alone was pretty fucking obvious: HOLD THE LINE in a dystopian world were “freedom” hangs by a thread. They are trying to survive. That’s all it needs to be.

I don’t care why they joined the Vanguard. I have plenty of friends and family within various armed forces and their motivations range from complex to simple, but most of them are a variation on “I want to serve my country and my people.” That’s it, and that’s okay.

Additionally, Julian Chase’s backstory and motivation was made clear in the first 10 minutes through the positioning of him before the wall with his dead father’s memorial flag, and the conversation between the three most important people in his life: mother, sister, and fellow comrade-soldier/girlfriend (Miranda, great symbolism by the way in that name).

That pilot episode is Julian’s “super hero/science fiction origin story”. His Big Damn Hero moment is fueled by his “character motivation” to protect his loved ones, and inspired by the verses from his dead hero father’s favorite song: “Let the Good Times Roll.”

Any hyper-critical reviewer that missed that is full of shit.

And those verses?

“You only live once / But when you’re dead you’re gone / So let the good times roll”

That was clever and poignant foreshadowing, b/c GENRE. It also wasn’t super deep…and it didn’t have to be. It only needed to connect the threads of Julian’s introduction, who he is, something special that he shares with his mother, father, and girlfriend, and what his role will be in the show, and the nature of his being from here on out.

At the bare minimum, someone in the writers’ room is aware (even if only in passing) of the some of the most enduring questions that science-fiction (especially cyberpunk) has asked and navel-gazed over regarding the role of technology in extending human life, and what exactly defines “life” when one has left the meat-space. I’m not expecting gen:LOCK to be an exploration into the ethics and details of transhumanism/post-humanism/singularity philosophies and futurist dreams for humanity. It doesn’t have to be. They’ve already touched on the concepts and anyone who loves that sort of thing will notice.

My expectations for gen:LOCK are that—at worst—it will be as entertaining and to-the-point as the GI Joe cartoon in the 80s. I enjoyed GI Joe (pro-military propaganda aside), it was a regular thing for me to make the effort to watch. I didn’t love it like I did The Adventures of the Galaxy Rangers, or Robotech, or Voltron DotU, or Silverhawks, or Jem and the Holograms, but it was still fun and entertaining and it still is.

GI Joe didn’t waste time with a full exploration of Cobra Commander’s backstory or his motivations, nor did it do so with most of the Joes. The basics were all that was needed. GI Joe wasn’t about complexity and it didn’t need to be in order to tell an entertaining story while selling toys. Yes, sometimes you’d get some really interesting episodes that added dimension in between the more obvious filler. Shit, it took like 50+ episodes to get to a Destro-focused episode. I certainly wasn’t watching GI Joe for character motivations and world-building. I was watching because nearly every character had an interesting design and they all did unique things, and Cobra Commander was hilarious. I watched to see what they would come up with next.

Did I really need a compelling story behind Zartan, Zandar, and Zarana? Nope. They were fun villains that gave the heroes hell and spoke with shitty Australian accents. In the 80s, the Aussie accent was all the rage for edgy characters (oh Stingray…).

Do people remember anything about Scarlett other than she was the hot redhead?

I loved Scarlett, she was my She-Ra, and one of the main reasons why I watched GI Joe. But only the most hardcore GI Joe fans remember her stats and abilities. She was actually one of the most highly qualified and skilled Joes. From Scarlett’s Wikipedia article:

“Her primary specialty for the team is counter intelligence. Scarlett is additionally skilled in martial arts and acrobatics. She started training at age 9 with her father and three brothers, who were all instructors, and she earned her first black belt at age 15. Scarlett also graduated summa cum laude, and passed her Bar Exams to practice law, before moving into the military. She graduated from Advanced Infantry Training and Ranger School, and received special education in Covert Ops School, Marine Sniper School, Special Air Service School, and Marine Tae Kwon Do Symposium. Although she is as adept with standard weapons as any of her comrades, her weapon of choice is the XK-1 power crossbow, which fires various bolts with specialized functions. Scarlett is also a qualified expert with the M-14, M-16, M1911A1 Auto Pistol, M79 grenade launcher, M-3A1, M-700 Remington sniper rifle, MAC-10, throwing stars, garotte and KA-BAR (Combat Knife)”

Wow. Beautiful and striking appearance. High intelligence. Great martial prowess. Top shelf military training.What a goddamned Mary Sue.

So, if you’re still with me Anon, my point is that if gen:LOCK can be a “good enough” futuristic-cyberpunk-ish version of GI Joe that gives me fun and interesting-but-not-complex characters in command of infantry mechs, configurable jets, and a color coordinated team of save-the-day-big-damn-hero-style mecha who fight against a sinister force that has weaponized nanotech and colossal mechas that look like War of the Worlds meets Eldritch Horrors then I’ll be pretty fucking happy with it. The bar ain’t exactly high here.

[bimbostudies]

fun might be a stretch here i’m not gonna lie, but ever since i started waking up at 5 am i’ve been a generally happier person!  i know this sounds like a nightmare but the mornings, i’ve noticed, are a space of so much potential.  especially if you’re in college, getting up early can be great because you can have a few hours to yourself before your roommate wakes up, and you can get a head start on your day and overall be more productive later on.  

convinced? great!  here’s how to do it, and some suggestions for what to do with all your extra time.  

THE NIGHT BEFORE

set an alarm: assuming your body doesn’t naturally wake up at 5 (if it does, rock on), an alarm is gonna be necessary.  but there are ways to do this to maximize impact. 

sleepyti.me: this website calculates the length of your sleep cycles and allows you to see when you’ll be in your lightest sleep (a.k.a., when it’ll be easiest to wake up). 

have roommates/living with family? perfect.  Get a loud alarm clock and set it up close to where your roommate sleeps.  Set that alarm for 5:01.  Set your phone alarm for 5:00.  (make sure the clocks are lined up).  when you wake up, you’re gonna jet on over to that other alarm as soon as you wake up, and the adrenaline is gonna wake you right up.  

If you don’t have a roommate, you can still utilize a similar system.  Set an alarm, and put it across the room. It’s gonna be a lot harder to hit snooze when you’ve already walked that far.  

make a to do list: listing out things you want to get done/need to get done the next morning are going to give you more motivation when you wake up.  while sleeping is gonna be tempting, psyching yourself up for the next day will help you get up.  Scroll down for an example of what I like to do when I get up early! 

this is gonna make me sound like a real caucasian suburban mom but I really really love pinterest for to do list inspo.  If you can find a specific recipe you wanna try for making breakfast that’s gonna be more exciting than just writing “breakfast”

I would also recommend setting out your outfit for tomorrow ! Looking at makeup looks you wanna try if you wear makeup!! If you don’t, that is wonderful and congratulations on being freed from the confines of human performance in that way I wish that was me so badly!  

generally, just do anything to get you excited about starting tomorrow.  hype yourself up bitch ur gonna look cute and have a great day !!!!!  

straighten up your space: take 15 minutes before bed to straighten up your room.  stack your books, put clothes in the hamper, and just generally declutter.   

I have adhd and I literally hate cleaning so much but I hate mess even more, so waking up to a neat room makes me feel less overwhelmed and more in control of my life

A lot of people clean in the morning, which is also valid, but if you’re telling yourself that you’re gonna do that because of procrastination, do not listen!  That voice is the devil

self care: this is a meaningless term at this point, but what I generally mean is make yourself feel fresh.  Take a shower, wash your face, brush your teeth, take a hot second to change into pajamas instead of sleeping in your clothes.  You’re gonna sleep better if you give yourself transition space to let your brain adjust to the fact that you’re going to sleep.     

drink a big ass glass of water right before you go to bed.  you’re gonna need to pee the next morning so badly that your body will literally not let you go back to sleep.  unpleasant? maybe.  but the hydration is good for you.   

sleep!  Honestly sleeping is one of the sexiest parts of the day and getting a good night’s rest is gonna be a real game changer.  I recommend shooting for at least 6 hours, but if you’re able to go to bed earlier, don’t just stay up because!  Get some rest

THE MORNING OF

once your alarm has gone off, get up and do not get back into bed.  I like to aim for at least 20 minutes of moving around before I even touch my bed again, but some people make their bed as soon as they get up to discourage going back to sleep.  Also a valid point.  

stretch!  Once you’re up, stretch your core by putting interlocking your fingers and raising your hands into the air.  This always feels so nice after just waking up 

head to the bathroom: if you have long hair, put it up. Otherwise, splash some cold water on your face, brush your teeth, do your skincare routine if you have one (i recommend having one!  Even if it’s just washing your face and putting on some cheap lotion from the beauty aisle of the grocery store).  It’ll help you get ~into the zone~

If you’re into it, work out!  i rarely work out, I’m not gonna lie to y’all, but I’ll occasionally go to the fitness center in my dorm.  If I’m feeling extra motivated, I’ll bring some notes or reading to look at while I’m on the elliptical/cycling machine/treadmill because exercising actually helps you process things better.  

yoga: yoga is a super nice workout in the morning because it doesn’t need to be super intensive.  It’s good if you’re feeling already awake, but I would avoid any routines that include corpse pose/child’s pose if you’re feeling a bit sleepy still.  

dance: dance is so nice!  There’s a barre in my workout facility, and I sometimes head to do a barre workout while I listen to some upbeat music.  I’m also a big fan of just dancing around in my room in the mornings, and I definitely did that more before I had a roommate lol 

running/walking: running and walking (especially with a pet!) is a great way to start the day!  It gets you outside into the cold, which will wake you up, and it can be pretty cathartic.  I don’t usually run in the mornings just because it’s dark this time of year and it can be kinda unsafe, but if you’re comfortable with going on a run or you live in an area that’s safe enough, it’s awesome!  Always take pepper spray and your phone though !  

easier alternatives: do ten jumping jacks, stars, or run in place for a minute.  Anything that gets your blood flowing is gonna make it easier to sleep.

ake your time getting ready!  now that you’re up early, you don’t have to rush around trying to get your makeup on on time, or throwing together an outfit in the two minutes you have before the bus comes.  Take your time.  Treat it like a ritual.  Get ready intentionally.  You’re going to feel more put together and you’re gonna feel like the stunner you are and that’s gonna make you feel more confident going into the day!  

make your bed: this is one of the best things to do in the morning because it’s low risk, high reward!  Making your bed takes like five minutes max, but when you get home your room is gonna look 300% neater and you’re gonna feel so much better.   

go over your schedule: finish any last minute things you’re gonna need for the day, whether that’s printing assignments, putting your name on your worksheet, or remembering to bring a specific book to class.   

pack your bag: related to the above, take the time to pack your bag.  Do you have your chargers? Your headphones? Your notebooks? Your pencil case?  Having time to do this thoughtfully instead of rushing is gonna make it less likely you forget something important! 

breakfast: for the love of god, eat breakfast.  If you’re up early, you have literally no excuse not to.  It can be as easy as some toast with jam or as complicated as apple cinnamon pancakes with two different side dishes.  Whatever it is, make something yummy to fuel you for the rest of your day.   

pack a lunch: making lunch at home will save you a lot of money which rocks, especially if you’re a college student supporting yourself.  It’s also a lot more convenient because you don’t need to spend time waiting in line for food or walking to a place to eat.   

get to school/wherever you need to be early: I know, at this point you might think I’m a lunatic but there are a lot of benefits to getting to school early, even if it means you have to wait in the parking lot for a bit. 

traffic is more manageable earlier in the morning: if you leave only when you absolutely have to, you’re gonna end up on the road at the same time as every clown and their mother, and it’s gonna take you a lot longer.  For example, in high school, if I left at 6:45 I would get to campus by 7:05.  But if I left by 7:15, I would get there a few minutes before 8.  Not sexy!  

Less anxiety! If you leave early, you’re guaranteed to get to class on time, without the heart attack of praying that the bus driver or the person in front of you on the freeway starts flooring it.  When you’re early, you have that time to yourself, and you don’t have to feel like you’re in a rush.  

once you’re there, find somewhere to hang out and read/get some work done!  I like to review any notes I took to prepare for a lecture the morning before to refresh myself.  It’s not necessary, but it helps!  

If you’re reading this and thinking gosh, what an absolute nerd! that’s fair.  You can spend this time on social media if you’d like, or reading, or listening to a podcast/audiobook!   

This is your time, you earned it.  And by the time your day starts, you’re gonna feel like you’ve already done so much that you’re ready to take on anything that gets thrown at you.   

okay I hope you all enjoyed this advice!  let me know if there’s any other master posts you’d like to see me do :)

[suburbantimewaster]

Here’s the first illustration I received for a fanfic, this one being Mind Games set in the universe of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and the origin of Candy Marino and Chris Patel, who can also be found in Return of the Greek Gods.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get the references right for Marino the first time but I did get them right for everyone else.  Anyway, this is drawn by s2ka from Deviantart.

Marino gave all of her attention to Shere Khan, feeling the vibration of his purrs.  All it took was one sneeze for him to get off.  She still had time before her next shift to make one call, even if it was one she dreaded.  Marino took a sip from her flask, enjoying the bubbly substance going down her throat, then finally entered her room on the right with another fan set up in the middle.  She set her personal computer on the desk and opened it.

"Computer, connect to T’Mara on Vulcan, Priority One connection, authorization Marino-Alpha-6359-Rose," Marino ordered, taking a seat.

It wasn't long until a caramel face female Vulcan with her raven hair tied in a long braid appeared on Marino's screen.

"Ensign Marino, I was expecting your call," T'Mara said, noticing the flask in Marino's hand with a disapproving gaze.

"Don't worry, it's just synthehol," Marino explained as she put it on her desk.

"Acceptable," T'Mara said with a nod.  "I suppose you have just finished making yourself at home on Deep Space Nine."

"Actually, I haven't even started," Marino admitted with a wave of her hand.  "I got caught up reading this manuscript left by the previous owner."

"What was the content of this manuscript?" T'Mara asked with clear intrigue.

"It was about looking into the mind of a Cardassian who loved torturing any Bajoran he could get his hands on," Marino explained with a smile and tone equivalent to a five-year-old girl who just tried on her first princess dress.  "Rebels, collaborators, civilians, you name it." Marino's smile faded and her tone grew more condescending.  "Though it does talk a bit too much about Cardassian superiority over other species.  Other than that, it was like reading something written by Ramsay Snow.  Only thing missing was the sigil of a flayed man."

"Considering the character of Ramsay Snow, I would imagine that Roose Bolton would be more likely to write such a tale," T'Mara told her.

"No, Roose Bolton wouldn't be stupid enough to flay a collaborator.  Remember what he told Ramsay?" Marino recalled and then adopted a serious stance.  "'If you acquire a reputation as a mad dog, you'll be treated as a mad dog.  Taken out back and slaughtered for pig feed.'"

"Logical," T'Mara acknowledged in a voice only a tiny bit away from being complete monotone.  "Speaking of Game of Thrones, when we last talked, you described being assigned to Deep Space Nine as 'being sent to The Wall without having to take a vow of celibacy and no Jon Snow to make it bearable.'  I am pleased to see that your opinion has changed."

"I'll say one thing," Marino said with a confident smile.  "You never would've found anything like that manuscript on the Prometheus."  Then she pointed to a suitcase with isolinear chips, one of them containing Game of Thrones.  "Plus, I made sure to bring that gorgeous bastard with me."

"Ah yes, your last posting," T'Mara acknowledged, completely ignoring Marino's last remark.  "I remember you compared the Prometheus to serving on a dollhouse in outer space."

"With everyone all sunshine and roses, you always knew who was good and who was bad and everyone went around talking about how we're so superior and have found the right way," Marino said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

"To which you believe that there's no such thing as 'the right way,'" T'Mara said, raising her eyebrow at the last part.

"And anyone who believes that is deluding themselves," Marino said with a scoff.  "This is turning into less of a check up and more of a counseling session."

"Considering the nature of these 'check-ups,' a counseling session is inevitable," T'Mara informed Marino.  "Or are you forgetting about the incident that nearly resulted in your expulsion from Starfleet?"

"Trust me, I haven't forgotten," Marino said, taking a sip from her flask.  "It's the whole reason I got assigned to this shit bowl."

"From what you've told me, I can logically assume that the assignment is a good fit for you," T'Mara told her positively.

"Great, then the conversation's over," Marino said, about to cut the connection until T'Mara raised her hand.

"Unfortunately, you and I still have some issues to discuss," T'Mara told Marino in as harsh of a tone a Vulcan could muster.  "For instance, were there any temptations when you arrived on the station?"

"Just one," Marino said distastefully.  "When I walked into the station, I smelled booze.  I'm talking the smell of stardrifters, kanar, blood wine, Saurian brandy, and something that smelled like a citrusy wine.  Even if the smell of dust and grime mostly covered it up.  Not to mention the heat."

"Does the heat curb your cravings for alcohol?" T'Mara asked in a helpful manner.

"You'd think, but no," Marino said sardonically, resting her chin on the palm of her hand.  "Don't get me wrong, thanks to living on Vulcan for a few months, I've gotten used to three-digit degree weather.  It's Shere Khan who truly suffered."  Marino's voice filled with distress as she remembered her kitten's meows and his attempts to bathe himself with his tongue repeatedly.  "I had to set up fans all around my quarters to keep the poor little guy from overheating!"

"Considering Cardassian physiology and the average temperate of their home planet, this does not surprise me," T'Mara informed Marino.

"Then I hope Cardassian animals don't have fur, because that would be pure torture," Marino remarked bitterly.  "But we both know I didn't call you to talk about Shere Khan's suffering."

"Yes, I can sense that you are troubled by far more than your feline's suffering," T'Mara told her.  "Care to tell me what that would be?"

"I had a little run in with a blast from my past," Marino told her.

"I didn't think anyone from the Prometheus would be assigned to Deep Space Nine," T'Mara stated with confusion.

"Actually, this one isn't from the Prometheus," Marino informed her.  "He goes much further back."

* * *

Patel unpacked everything and then set his computer on the desk, seeing a message from the one member of his family he could count on.  It only took a few seconds for the face of a jet black haired young woman with a toffee complexion to appear on his screen.

"Hey, Chris," she said with a smile.  "By the time you view this, you're probably settling down in your new posting.  You know, the rundown Cardassian station you were dreading.  Well, I kind of envy you right now.  I'm still interning on Andoria," Cathy said, pouring herself a drink.  "Which makes New Jersey winters look like Gujarat."

Patel looked at the alcohol with a disapproving glance.

"I know, you don't like your baby sister drinking," Cathy said, rolling her eyes.  "But cut me some slack, I'm living on a giant ice cube."

Patel drew back with a jolt.  It was scary how well Cathy knew him.

"All right, the internship's not all bad.  I got to watch Redbats nesting in a cave!" Cathy said excitedly, putting her hands on her chest.  "Though one of them freaked out and nearly crawled through my brain."

Patel found himself peering at the top of Cathy's head, at least as much as he could see, for signs of scratches.

"Thankfully, Areliv helped me get it out," Cathy said with a dreamy smile.  "He even offered to take me out to dinner."

And Cathy's got a new boyfriend, Patel thought with both pride and worry.  Though I don't think Mom and Dad will like their daughter dating an Andorian.

"I know what you're thinking and Areliv is not my boyfriend!" Cathy insisted, though her bright red face told another story.  "He's just a friend!  A very handsome and charming friend!"  She laughed.  "All right, I'm kind of hoping that it will turn into something more." Cathy smiled brightly.  "Who knows?  Maybe Areliv and I can double date with you and Ian."

Patel's face fell.

"Anyway, I've got to go.  I'm meeting my boss in a few minutes," Cathy told him.  "Try to make the best of your assignment and, remember, our summers on Gujarat prepared you for Cardassian heat, even if it made Andorian cold almost intolerable."

Cathy closed the connection, leaving Patel staring at a black screen.

* * *

"His name's Chris Patel," Marino answered.

"Ah, yes," T'Mara said with a nod of her head.  "The childhood friend who you separated from in high school."

"We both fell into different crowds," Marino explained bitterly.  "He belonged to the hotshot squad and I belonged to the social outcasts."

"I recall you saying this during your time at the monastery," T'Mara noted.  "However, I do not recall you ever telling me that Chris did anything to personally attack you."

"Oh, he didn't," Marino stated, hoping she wouldn't have to clarify.

"Then I fail to see the problem," T'Mara said, shrugging her eyebrows.

"The problem is that I'm trying to make a new life for myself and I don't need some childhood friend telling everyone about the 'sweet little girl' I used to be," Marino said crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

"Again, I fail to see how a childhood friend would cause you personal strife at your new duty position," T'Mara told her.

It was at that moment Shere Khan chose to jump on the desk.

"Is that the transient feline you found outside the monastary?" T'Mara asked, her brown eyes following Shere Khan.  "The one you retrieved the fans for?"

"You mean the one who was abandoned on Vulcan?" Marino said, her eyes narrowing as she remembered seeing him panting on the hot desert of her former retreat.  "He didn't really have anyone else who could take him in."

"So, you chose to make him your pet," T'Mara recalled.

"What was I supposed to do?" Marino said defensively as she took Shere Khan off of her desk and held him in her arms.  "Help the poor kitty and then abandon him to the shelter?"

"You always did have a compassion for animals," T'Mara told her, raising an eyebrow.  "People are another matter."

"Yeah, animals rock, people suck," Marino said, setting Shere Khan down on the floor, meowing loudly as he rubbed against Marino's legs.  "Sorry, wittle boy, but your mama's in the middle of something."

T'Mara raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm one of those nutsos who treats their pets like their children," Marino said, folding her arms.  "Can we get back to the matter at hand?"

T'Mara raised her right eyebrow.

"Perhaps Mr. Patel will not divulge sensitive information without your approval," T'Mara told her helpfully.

"You might be right about that," Marino conceded hesitantly.  "But he might get defensive when people insult me."  She recalled his apology before contacting T'Mara.  "Plus, Chris would still have questions that I really don't want to answer."

And one of them will be answered when the CMO arrives with my medical file, Marino thought sardonically.  That'll be fun.

"I'm sure if Mr. Patel respects your privacy, then he will not force you to share information that you are uncomfortable divulging," T'Mara told her reassuringly.

"You've got a point there," Marino agreed with a reluctant nod.

"Is that all that concerns you?" T'Mara asked.

"Actually, there's one more thing..." Marino asked hesitantly, holding up her right index finger.

"Ensign Marino, Vulcans do not 'change their mind.'  You are still not permitted to imbibe any alcohol," T'Mara told her firmly.

"Wow, am I really that predictable?" Marino asked, her eyes widening.

"Yes." T'Mara answered in her usual matter of fact tone.

She has me there, she thought. When she spoke again, her voice was a little more relaxed.  "Though, you have to admit, it's going to be hard for me to 'curb my cravings' when I'm assigned to a place that smells like booze."

"Your argument is illogical since the synthehol and blitz should curb your cravings," T'Mara told her sympathetically.  "Additionally, consider the manuscript you found.  It may be logical to conclude that Deep Space Nine could give you the mental stimulation the Prometheus could not."

"Yeah, but even Deep Space Nine can't keep my brain entertained all the time," Marino concluded with her arms crossed and her head tilted to the side.  "So I might need a little pick-me-up on those slow days."

"As your sponsor, I must advise against that," T'Mara told her firmly.

"Fongool," Marino said angrily, putting her arms to her side.  "Chat with you more, but I need to unpack."

"Very well," T'Mara said with a nod.  "Remember to contact me if you feel any urges."

"Sure thing," Marino said as T'Mara held up her right hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting.

"Live long and prosper," T'Mara told her.

"I can try for the latter, but I'm not making any promises about the former," Marino told her honestly.

"Ensign Marino..." T'Mara told her in a slight warning tone.

"All right," Marino said, putting her hand up in the Vulcan salute.  "Peace and long life, Counselor."

Marino cut off the connection and looked around her quarters.  It seemed pretty standard with a desk, the typical Cardassian mattress, her bags near the door and silhouettes of paintings owned by their former occupier.  Like everyone else on the station, he left in a hurry.  She unzipped one of her bags and pulled out a few isolinear chips that contained recordings of all of her favorite songs, some of them having their own playlists.  She used her personal console and installed them all in her quarters, instructing the computer to play one at random.

"Journey," Marino exclaimed with a bright smile as the music started playing.  "Awesome!"  Emptying the contents from the rest of her luggage, she lazily threw them in the correct places in her quarters, singing along to "Don't Stop Believing," relishing in the antiquated style.

* * *

Patel turned on the connection, ready to record his outgoing message.

"Hey, Cathy," he greeted.  "Really liked hearing your message and glad to hear you're doing well, in spite of the freezing cold.  Though I might have to check this Areliv out to see if he's good enough for my sister."  He smiled to let Cathy know that he wasn't serious.  Well, not entirely.  "Things on Deep Space Nine aren't too bad and trust me when I say the heat's the least of my worries."

The doctor's smile disappeared.  "The whole place looks like a shipwrecked ghost town and knowing the history of this station doesn't help.  Let me put it this way, Candy found a manuscript of the Gul who used to live here and, by the way she talked about him, things didn't sound pleasant."  Patel's smile returned, imagining the look on Cathy's face.  "Yeah, you heard that right, Candy's my roommate.  Though, she's a little different from how we remember.  As for how, let's just say that she finally got that backbone you always said she needed to grow."

Patel's face fell.  "Also, there's something I need to tell you.  Ian and I broke up.  I know you liked him and you're sad to see him go, but it's better this way.  Our careers were taking us in different directions and we both felt that it would be better to, in archaic terms, rip the band aid off rather than leave it on until it naturally falls.  Anyway, I have to go.  Plenty of unpacking to do and I need to get the Infirmary set up for when the CMO arrives."

He closed the connection and unzipped one of his bags.  He meticulously placed everything where they belonged and realized he could hear Marino's music from across his quarters.  He had to admit that the ensign had a beautiful singing voice, but he had a hunch that he'd be listening to it way more often than he wanted to.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      * * *

[mrsmoerlii]

Day 8: Jaisalmer

ELA, MELA, MASALA AND TELA ON MONIA, SONIA, PAULA AND KALU

Planänderung! Da alle von Jaisalmer geredet haben und wir eigentlich auch super gerne dahin wollten, haben wir uns kurzfristig dazu entschlossen, unseren Aufenthalt in Udaipur um 2 Tage zu kürzen und noch einen kleinen Abstecher in die Wüste zu machen.

Es stand eine Kamelsafari-Tour mit Übernachtung in der Wüste auf dem Tagesplan! Unser Bus war zum Glück pünktlich, so dass wir noch drei Stunden im Hostel hatten, um uns auf unser kleines Abenteuer vorzubereiten.

Wir waren unglaublich aufgeregt! Wir wollten die Tour auf keinen Fall alleine machen und so waren wir heilfroh, als wir erfuhren, dass noch zwei weitere dabei sein würden: Marcelo, 50, aus Brasilien und Alex, 30, aus Australien.

Es war im Hostel schon unerträglich heiß, der Wetterbericht zeigte 38°C an. Bei dem Gedanken, gleich das klimatisierte Hostelzimmer zu verlassen und in der brütenden Hitze durch die Wüste zu reiten, wurde uns als norddeutsche Landeier ein bisschen mulmig. Ich hatte Schiss, dass ich in der Wüste durch Hitzeschlag vom Kamel fallen würde.

Um 15 Uhr ging’s los: Eine Stunde ging es zuerst mit dem Jeep voran. Dabei erwies sich der Fahrer als guter DJ, denn durch die Wüste zu düsen mit laut dröhnender indischer Chartmukke, macht gleich doppelt so viel Spaß! 😁

Schließlich war es an der Zeit das Transportmittel zu wechseln. Durch meine letzte Erfahrung an einen vierbeinigen Untersatz, das mich in Kolumbien ein Krankenhaus von innen kennen lernen ließ, war es ein komisches Gefühl wieder auf einen Sattel zu steigen. Da aber weit und breit keine Zaunpfähle in Sicht waren, ließ ich es auf einen erneuten Versuch drauf ankommen.

Hayat, unser Kameltreiber, konnte oder wollte sich unsere Namen nicht merken und so gab er uns spontan einfach neue:) Ich war Ela, Merle war Mela, Marcelo wurde zu einem indischen Currygericht, Masala und Alex wurde zu Tela, wahrscheinlich einfach nur weil es sich so gut reimte😂

Wir ritten 1,5 Stunden durch die Wüste. Nach ungefähr 30 min. Konnten wir bereits an den Oberschenkelinnenseiten erahnen, dass sich zumindest unser Körper an diesen kleinen Ausflug mindestens noch die nächsten zwei Tage nachhaltig erinnern wird. Jeder, der schon einmal auf einem Pferd saß, weiß, was ich meine…

Vorbei ging’s an wilden Kamelherden und “weidenen” Ziegen, deren Suche nach einem Grashalm auf dem trockenen Ackerland eher der berühmten Nadel im Heuhaufen glich.

Es war so unglaublich ruhig, weit und breit (fast) keine Menschenseele. Vor Ehrfurcht dieses tollen Gefühls, zwei Meter über dem Boden durch die Wüste zu schweben, sprachen wir fast kein Wort und so trotteten wir schweigend hintereinander her.

Als wir ankamen, hatten wir noch ca.1,5 Stunden bis zum Sonnenuntergang. Hayat hieß uns im Lager willkommen:”Hier ist das Schlafzimmer, da ist das Wohnzimmer, das Esszimmer und die Küche.” Er zeigte hinter eine Düne: ”Da ist die eine Toilette und da ist die zweite. Alles in einem Raum!” Humor hat man also auch in der Wüste 😉

Während Merle und ich wie verrückt Fotos in den Dünen machten, baute Hayat unser Schlafzimmer und bereitete in der Küche zusammen mit seinem Gehilfen unser Abendessen vor. Plötzlich, wie eine Fata Morgana, tauchte aus dem Nichts ein Typ auf und fragte, ob wir ein kühles Bier wollen!!??🙄🤣🤣 Wir hatten ja mit Vielem gerechnet in der Wüste, aber damit nicht!😅 Uns war bei der Hitze jedoch nicht nach Alkohol, nahmen aus Höflichkeit aber jeder eine Sprite, sie war tatsächlich kalt. Wie das sein konnte und wo er plötzlich her kam, bleibt wohl sein kleines Geheimnis.

Achja, eine gute Nachricht hatte Hayat noch für uns: es gab zum Glück keine giftigen Schlangen zu der Jahreszeit - nur Skorpione! Was für ein Glück!🙄😅🙈

Und es gab Mistkäfer! Sehr, sehr viele… Aber diese waren wirklich putzig. Wie sie den Kamelkot so über die Dünen rollten, war schon witzig anzusehen. Sie wirkten so zielstrebig, als wüssten sie genau, wo sie damit hin wollten.

Nach dem Abendessen ging es auch schon gleich ins Bett, dabei war es erst 8 Uhr. Unsere Körper waren noch lange nicht auf Schlafenszeit eingestellt, aber nachts in der Wüste kann man auch einfach nicht mehr viel machen. Wir quatschten noch ein wenig und ließen diesen wahnsinnigen Moment noch etwas auf uns wirken, bevor wir die Augen schlossen. Über uns ein klarer Sternenhimmel, noch dazu war Vollmond! Man hörte in ein paar Dünen Entfernung einen Sing-Sang, welches einem das Bild von einem Lagerfeuer und drumherum tanzenden Eingeborenen im  Kopf bilden ließ. Es klang unglaublich schön und machte diesen Moment noch vollkommener. Es war definitiv der dritte Gänsehautmoment unserer Reise!!

Am Morgen erzählte mir Merle, dass sie in der Nacht sogar genau eine Sternschnuppe am Himmel gesehen hätte und in dem Moment vor Glück genau eine Träne ihr die Wange herunter kullerte. Wie schön!😢☺️

Die Wetterbericht sagte eigentlich 25°C Tiefsttemperatur voraus und so war ich ein bisschen verwundert, als ich in der Nacht vor Kälte aufwachte und doch Gebrauch von der dicken, schweren Decke machen musste. Am nächsten Morgen war auch alles nass und klamm.

Wir verschliefen leider den Sonnenaufgang, es war aber ohnehin angenehm bewölkt. Nach dem Frühstück und ein paar Selfies mit unseren neuen höckernden Freunden, machten wir uns auf den Rückweg.

“Eine Übernachtung in der Wüste” können wir nun von unserer Bucketlist streichen! Unsere spontane Planänderung hat sich definitiv gelohnt, es war eines der tollsten Erfahrungen meines Lebens! 🎉🤩✌️

Nach einer unvorstellbar hervorragenden Dusche, sind wir noch für zwei Stunden durch “die goldene Stadt” gelaufen. So richtig motiviert war aber keiner von uns. Es war erstens viel zu heiß und zweitens konnte der Tag die vorherige Nacht sowieso nicht toppen.

____________________________________________________

Change of plans! Since everyone was talking about Jaisalmer and we really wanted to go there, we decided at short notice to shorten our stay in Udaipur by 2 days and make a little detour into the desert.

There was a camel safari tour with overnight stay in the desert on the daily plan! Luckily our bus was on time, so we still had three hours in the hostel to prepare for our little adventure.

We were incredibly excited! We didn't want to do the tour on our own and so we were very happy when we found out that there would be two more: Marcelo, 50, from Brazil and Alex, 30, from Australia.

It was already unbearably hot in the hostel, the weather forecast indicated 38°C. At the thought of leaving the air-conditioned hostel room and riding through the desert in the brooding heat, we as north German land eggs became a bit queasy. I was afraid that I would fall from the camel in the desert by heat stroke.

At 15 o'clock we started: One hour we went first with the jeep. The driver turned out to be a good DJ, because to jet through the desert with loud booming Indian Chart music is twice as much fun! 😁 Finally it was time to change the means of transport. Due to my last experience on a four-legged pedestal, which let me get to know a hospital in Colombia from the inside, it was a strange feeling to get back on a saddle. But since there were no fence posts in sight far and wide, I let it depend on another attempt.

Hayat, our camel driver, couldn't or didn't want to remember our names and so he spontaneously gave us new ones:) I was Ela, Merle was Mela, Marcelo became an Indian curry dish, Masala and Alex became Tela, probably just because it sounded so good😂

We rode 1.5 hours through the desert. After about 30 minutes we could already guess from the inside of our thighs that at least our body will remember this little trip for at least the next two days. Anyone who has ever sat on a horse knows what I mean...

We went past wild camel herds and "grazing" goats, whose search for a blade of grass on the dry farmland was more like the famous needle in a haystack.

It was so incredibly quiet, far and wide (almost) no human soul. In awe of this great feeling to float two meters above the ground through the desert, we hardly spoke a word and so we trotted silently behind each other.

When we arrived, we still had about 1.5 hours until sunset. Hayat welcomed us to the camp: "Here is the bedroom, there is the living room, the dining room and the kitchen. He pointed behind a dune: "There is one toilet and there is the second one. Everything in one room!" So you also have humour in the desert 😉

While Merle and I took photos in the dunes like crazy, Hayat built our bedroom and prepared our dinner together with his assistant in the kitchen. Suddenly, like a mirage fata, a guy appeared out of nowhere and asked if we wanted a cold beer!???🙄🤣🤣 We had expected a lot in the desert, but this not!😅 We didn't feel like drinking alcohol in the heat, but out of courtesy everyone took a sprite, it was actually cold. How that could be and where he suddenly came from, probably remains his little secret.

Oh well, Hayat still had good news for us: luckily there were no poisonous snakes at this time of year - only scorpions! What luck!🙄😅🙈🙈

And there were dung beetles! A loooooot.. But these were really cute. The way they rolled the camel excrement over the dunes was funny to watch. They seemed so determined, as if they knew exactly where they were going.

After dinner we went straight to bed, but it was only 8 o'clock. Our bodies weren't ready for bedtime for a long time yet, but at night in the desert you can't do much more. We chatted a little more and let this mad moment have an effect on us before we closed our eyes. Above us a clear starry sky, and on top of that there was a full moon! One heard a Sing-Sang in a few dunes distance, which let the picture of a campfire and around it dancing natives form in one's head. It sounded incredibly beautiful and made this moment even more perfect. It was definitely the third goose bump moment of our journey!

In the morning Merle told me that in the night she had even seen exactly one shooting star in the sky and that in that moment of happiness exactly one tear rolled down her cheek. How beautiful!😢☺️️

The weather forecast actually predicted 25°C lowest temperature and so I was a bit surprised when I woke up in the night from the cold and still had to make use of the thick, heavy blanket. The next morning everything was wet and clammy.

Unfortunately we slept through the sunrise, but it was pleasantly cloudy anyway. After breakfast and a few Selfies with our new humping friends, we made our way back.

"One overnight stay in the desert" we can now delete from our bucketlist! Our spontaneous change of plans was definitely worth it, it was one of the greatest experiences of my life! 🎉🤩✌️

After an unimaginably excellent shower, we walked for two hours through "the golden city". But none of us was really motivated. First of all it was too hot and secondly the day couldn't top the previous night anyway.