#like listen I love you plz

[skinreflectsthesun]

.

[slasherflicks999]

more kate!

yes nina did make her that little purple bracelet and she wears it 24/7 bc she loves her girlfriend ninakate nation i got u guys

i also forgot her scar in that fullbody FUCK why do i end up forgetting a little detail like that in every drawing i do help

[turtleblogatlast]

One of my favorite things about Leo’s portals is the fact that they’re tangible.

He can throw those like frisbees and hit people with them like?? The boys’ abilities are so fun and magical and even sci-fi-esque but this aspect of Leo’s portals are so distinctly a Looney Tunes flavor of cartoon-y that I absolutely adore.

And sure this aspect of the portals can be used for fighting, but moreover the sheer amount of visual gags this does and can create is infinite.

[punmster]

being ace means i don't get giggly or horny about omegaverse aka abo but instead become painfully obsessed with details in anatomy and world building

[erabu-san]

I just start a new account, doing the archon quest again, And I FINALLY See it.

Xiao x Traveler?

Yes.

I SAW THE WAY XIAO LOOK AT THE TRAVELER.

I'M ON THE BOAT NOW, I'M ON THE TRAVELER X XIAO SHIP!

YES !!!! 😭😭😭 there are so wholesome i love them sm

[sharknark]

⬇️rant about a really good hengren (reverse renheng) fic i read. link at the bottom give it a whirl

i've never read a fic so well-catered to my tastes before in my life and the best part is that i was so caught off guard by how good it was cuz the tags and summary had me like "right this is some omegaverse-esque, rawr XD mating shit"

but from the very first paragraph i realized it wasn't just ao3-typical possessive mating shit it was (dare i say) IN CHARACTER possessive mating shit. underappreciated dan feng lore is the two hearts shit, duty expects him to smother his own empathy and perform cruelty obediently (and that being in his dragon form literally numbs his empathy towards mortals) but then it's flipped around and he's criticized for being too heartless

there aren't a great many english fics that take advantage of the 'numbed empathy' thing, so this fic using that to explore the toxic codependency that drove dan feng to making yingxing immortal in the first place is so!

dan feng's dragon heart prioritizing it's own indulgence and power, his human heart screaming against it for empathy and restraint, but both hearts united in this possessive adoration of yingxing... dan feng is possessive to the point of harming his partner, forcing them to take his affection, inherently contradictive to the protective impulse to see the other unhurt.

dan feng makes yingxing immortal in a really sketchy operation, despite knowing that yingxing is literally defined by his pride in being a short-life. he wants yingxing to be with him so badly that he does the one thing that would hurt yingxing the most, too blinded by possession, this sickly overbearing affection, to empathetically respect yingxing's death.

yingxing lived cramming every second he could into his craft and his goals precisely because he has so much less time than all the immortal species around him, but when he's forced into immortality, his hands are scarred and ruined past the point of ever crafting again. he suddenly has so much time, all this time he would've cherished as a mortal, but is totally useless to him now that his purpose for living and passion is gone.

so there being a scene in this fic where dan feng is moping "yingxing doesn't wanna fuck because he's glued to his workshop", being followed up with a scene of dan heng fucking blade while kissing his scarred hand and crying that he's "so sorry", yeah no shit asshole, his dragon heart got what it wanted, blade has all the time in the world to fuck and nothing competing for his now limitless attention and no one's happy about it.

as arrogant about being a short-life as yingxing was, it really is compensation for the discrimination he faced for it. other immortals looked down on him, so having dan feng, THE top dog, be so deeply enamored with him stirred his own toxic codependent urges. he was so desperate to have dan feng's eternal regard that he's willing to die for him (as in the sedition), his death being the force cementing his place in dan feng's heart forever.

so the fic having yingxing ruminate on this, that he had hoped for dan feng to love him even centuries after he inevitably died, only for the fic to end with:

yeah yingxing... you left an impression... he made you immortal.... everyone's upset by this

(that's what makes dan heng forgetting blade was ever yingxing to begin with all the more painful because, you went and turned him immortal and when it backfired horrifically you went on and fucking forgot, bitch i'd be pissed to the point of centuries long bloody pursuit of vengeance too.)

here's the fic go read it and leave kudos and a comment, technically porn but i got so invested in the character study that part barely registered. also yeah if you hadn't realized already super dead-dove:

blah blah "renheng is toxic" sorry that's why i like it

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

I'm in such a drastoria mood right now and I feel even more starved than I do with scorbus oh my god

[wexhappyxfew]

CLINGING TO JACKET MY FRIEND!

HI POETTTT!!!!!! at your service! more than anything! ab-so-lute-ly!!!! i give all credit to @softspeirs for sparking me with this idea (after a recent Margie x Benny prompt) and just....i have NOT stopped thinking about it since because....it is SO GOOD. SO GOOD. to say i get enabled easily is an extreme understatement and i just couldn't help it and had to take it and do some writing for it. not much progress has been made (ie = work lol), but i'll be excited to finish writing and polish it off - CHEF'S KISS IDEA!!!!!!!

This idea of 'clinging to jacket' (or at least A jacket) came from writing a Margie x Benny prompt, and I briefly mentioned how (and therefore implied) that the first person to see Margie when she came into the Stalag was Major Cleven. And this is significant in the fact that - it's not like it's Benny, or one of the girls, or even Bucky - it's Major Cleven - it's Buck.

Buck reminds Margie of some of her older brothers - on the quieter side, caring, hard-working, true-to-themselves, always willing to help, always ready and willing to address a situation that isn't right. And so, after we come to this head in the writing that I've mentioned previously (the SB crew gets split up - Annie, Kennedy, Margie and Bessie go down and all end up in the Stalag), we reach this separation point and new eras for all of the girls. Margie especially.

She ends up thinking of herself as almost this completely whole new person. Because of what she's experienced and felt and lived through in the matter of a week before getting to the Stalag. I'm a big fan of platonic-based connections and it is safe to say that Buck and Margie are one of those. And (I hope to include this perspective in future pieces), but Margie never had much interaction with Buck before all this - conversations here and there but nothing deep. BUT - when Buck Cleven is the first person Margie sees after the horrors of what she has just gone through, she immediately clings to that.

Someone she knows! Someone from the 100th! Someone that can HELP HER!! Someone that can get her out of whatever she's experiencing and someone she can cling to!

So, Buck Cleven becomes pretty significant to Margie in the sense that she knows he is there for her. All the time. After arriving in the camp. They will go on to share some heartfelt moments and Buck ends up being there for her in more ways than one - but having that first person show up for her - someone she recognized and brought her out of the unknown. She sticks to people like that. As a somewhat religious person, she would sat that Buck Cleven was put there because of the situation, because he needed to be there, for the both of them.

I really want to emphasize the CLINGING aspect - like Margie was almost death on two feet - practically destroyed from the earlier version of her normal sunshine-self! And she's left clinging to life, to someone, something, to stay alive. And that's Buck Cleven's coat. pretty significant and equally important. Buck Cleven you are too special, king!! Never change! <3

It'll be a nice exploration of that specific connection to one another and I'm very excited to get writing with it!!!!! ;D

feel free to ask about one of my WIPs! [here]

[demadogs]

not asking what your favorite song is, but your favorite SCENE with the song!! the song you think is best used within the context of the scene its played in.

nondiagetic song are songs that are added in post so the characters dont hear it or interact with the song.

this was inspired by @hawkinsschoolcounselor’s music poll like this but he was asking peoples favorite scene with diagetic songs. songs that the characters hear and interact with like running up that hill and should i stay or should i go.

[thatonearoacefreak]

8 billion people on our planet and I fall in love with people who don’t even exist TT

aisnsjckfnkfkfnf I hate life 😭

Ignore my ranting idk lol

Prob gonna delete later

[reinemichele]

My mom got home and immediately handed me an ipod classic and said "[Patient] told me her ipod won't hold a charge anymore, so I told her you might be able to fix it, or at least show her how to rip the music library onto her computer"

and I said . "I've told you to stop telling people I can help them with technology ."

And then I noticed the ipod actually still had a full battery (but I'm sure, like my barely functioning ipod classic, within a few seconds-minutes the battery would die), so I glanced through the menus, mostly because I still feel very nostalgic for using ipods & find the tactile buttons/audible clicking/whirring to be a lot more appealing than keeping music on a purely touchscreen torture nexus, but I was also curious about how recent the music this patient listens to is

So I said . "Oh hey, she has Rick Astley on here!"

And after a few minutes she goes . "I have that fucking Rick Astley song stuck in my fucking head." and I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed

[soupercreeper]

damn this podcast made me fishdjfhdjdbdj

anyways here are the sillys

i love em sm arararrararar

[potential-fate]

Callum tapped his shin with his foot, and Abe looked up at him. His boyfriend flashed him a subtle smile, as if to thank him for coming, or to say ‘See, it’s not so bad, right?’. Abe wasn’t sure which. 

In any case, Abe smiled softly back, not willing to break the easy vibe they’d fallen into in the ratty living room they were currently hanging out in. 

[fear-no-mort]

would you be mad if i said i associate the song the only house that’s not on fire yet with rnm because of the themes of things considered unusual being the main comfort of someone’s life, and that someone relying on a faraway goal of “escape” to keep them going, as well as clinging onto the only thing they own that hasn’t been taken away

[artsy-dreamer]

For the fictional friendships ask: Asahi and Nishinoya; 1, 3, 5, and 13?

My boys!! I love them 💛💛 Thanks so much for the ask!! And sorry it took me so long to answer ;-; I kinda had a lot going on…

…ok I’m still very behind on Haikyuu, so I don’t know a whole lot about them yet… won’t stop me from making an attempt though XD Their friendship makes me happy 😊

When I think they became friends (if canon already hasn't showed how they became friends)

I’m kinda leaning toward them meeting at volleyball club in Noya’s first year of high school- simple as that, a libero and his ace bonding over their shared interests and becoming a powerful team together 😊 I have to wonder if maybe Noya was drawn to Asahi because he saw a bit of himself in the guy- from what I’ve heard, Noya himself was quite the anxious little guy when he was younger, so I can definitely see him wanting to be the kind of friend he needed back then 🥺 And with Noya’s friendly demeanor and his efforts to include Asahi in conversations and invite him to hang out on weekends, show interest in his other hobbies and nudge him out of his comfort zone and all that, it’s only natural that they’d grow closer and develop the strong bond they have now- I love how despite their age difference, they seem to treat each other as equals and look up to each other, it’s really sweet :’)

3. A random headcanon I have of them

Somehow I ended up with the headcanon that Noya is prone to headaches, and I just love the idea of Asahi being a good comfort to Noya when he’s not feeling well- gives him temple massages, makes sure he’s getting enough water to drink and all that :’) And one time, there was some construction taking place close to where Noya lives, and it was giving him headaches and making them harder to get rid of, so sometimes Asahi would let Noya stay over at his place where it was quieter and rest until he felt better- maybe he even cuddled with Noya until he fell asleep :’) I love the idea of Noya learning that cuddling has scientifically proven health benefits, and just latching onto that fact and constantly using it as an excuse because the dude LOVES him some cuddles XD

5. A scene I wish we had of them

…tfw I don’t know all their scenes yet XD But judging from these questions, I’m guessing canon hasn’t shown how they met, so I’d love to see that… but other than that? I love me a good hug scene, so I’ll go with that XD if they had a canon hug scene i probably would’ve seen dozens of redraws already lol

I just wanna see Noya make a running start and jump up to hug his buddy, and Asahi is standing there with his arms wrapped around Noya while his tiny little legs dangle off the ground XD That’d be so cute, lol

13. What I think would have happened if they never met

From what I’ve heard, they don’t seem to have *quite* as much of a deep fated connection as some other pairs in Haikyuu? Like, they’re in each other’s lives and they care a lot about each other but they’re not completely floundering on their own either :’D So I guess their friendship is kind of like that one post about double chocolate chip cookies- it may not be necessary for them to exist, but I sure wouldn’t want to live in a world without them! 😊💕💕 I suppose they’d be fine, but their lives just wouldn’t be as enriched as they could be? I mean, Noya does have other good buddies that he has a lot of fun with, but like… since he had more anxiety when he was younger, maybe Asahi would get him in a way that others might not, and if they’d never met, Noya might not have that connection with someone he could relate to in his life 😔 Same with Asahi- while he has other good friends in the volleyball club too, Noya seems to be the one he clicks with the most :’) And without him around, maybe it would’ve taken a bit longer for Asahi to come back to volleyball club- I just love how the reason Noya so adamantly refused to play without Asahi is because he didn’t want the guy thinking they could get by without him 🥺 It warms my heart how well Noya understands Asahi and how supportive he is of him!! Always pushing him to do his best because he knows he has it in him!! I’m just really glad they DID meet, because they have such a wonderful friendship and they make each other’s lives brighter… they are a package deal your honor 💛

ok that was a lot… can you tell I’ve been itching to gush about Haikyuu or XD So thanks for the excuse! 💕

[wexhappyxfew]

hi shannon!! marianne is calling my name so... can i request "it's 4am. you need sleep." with her? 😁 hope you're having an AMAZING day!!

HI BLUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!! you already are very aware of my excitement towards this prompt because i have not talked as much as i have wanted about my queen marianne salinger, resident tail-gunner of silver bullets who loves three things in this world (1) the silver bullets crew, (2) frank sinatra and (3) her orange cat, frank. AND OF COURSE -- i took this opportunity to talk a bit more about co-pilot of silver bullets, francis montez - co-pilots are just....they're so interesting. there is so much depth to them, especially what their relationship is with the pilot, and we dig into that here. also -- we get some birdie faulkner mentions! my queen (lost but not forgotten)!! francis montez, my tragic hero, i am HUGGING YOU!!!!! please enjoy this look into life before annie bradshaw became replacement command pilot for silver bullets! it is such an interesting space to work in, especially considering what we already know about life with annie bradshaw as the pilot!!!

we all lost birdie

(a/n): marianne salinger POV of the limbo time in between the command of birdie faulkner and annie bradshaw as francis montez struggles with the weight of leadership in a time like this. let's just say....she's not coping well, but the silver bullets crew is there to help with that. also -- marianne is just a gem for real, like observant, chaotic af, non-smoker but is the 'do it because my friends did it' person tbh she's great LMAO! please enjoy!!! (and thank you blu for this....i sincerely hope you enjoy!!!) <3333333 co-pilots my beloved!!

Birdie Faulkner had been on levels even some men would never get to in their lifetime. Highly respected, rather decorated and equally intelligent as any man flying a B-17 as anyone. It’s probably what made Silver Bullets so reliable.

The first she picked was her co-pilot.

Francis Montez - a good Californian, who had top marks in school and a knack for opening up her mouth when prompted, she was an easy choice for co-pilot, a second in command, another leader who would undoubtedly be useful in unforeseen circumstances.

The navigator and bombardier came next: Bessie Carlisle and Carrie Achterberg or Bergie, of Queens and Brooklyn, New York, respectively, from two sides of the same town. Damn good at their jobs, efficient, the glue to the crew and the ones with the brains. Necessary investments.

Then came the flight engineer. Not only must she know all she can about the B-17 but how to fix it on the ground or in the air if needed. Marjorie Harlowe - or Margie - from Michigan, took up that role with ease. A smile, a flick of the finger, an easy-going and competent nature - it wasn’t any surprise that if you flew with Margie Harlowe, you were safe.

Radio ops was next - Paulina Stagliano of Philly was one to talk. Loud mouth and an even louder mind, she got her point across in short question and answer scenarios for her crew, and was always of the opportune to play music when the morale was low.

Then - her turret gunners.

Waist gunners were first - Kennedy Farley hailed from Boston, a rather passionate, raging Red Sox fan, who was a fierce and loyal protector and friend. And a damn-good gunner - she knew that gun inside and out and if you needed a hand with repairs, she'd show up with a smoke, a screwdriver and a small frown and get it done in 5 minutes.

Vivian Ratcliffe from Colorado had grown up with a father teaching her the ropes in mechanic garages - and it was no wonder she was so used to the cold up in that open-air belly - nights and mornings spent skiing in the Rockies, gaining rough-and-tumble love from nature, from the air to the sea. The best of the group, truly.

Then she went for the ball turret gunner - they had to be pretty small, reliable, quick-witted, and no doubt, Birdie wanted someone with a funny personality - Judy Rybinski was practically over-qualified for the role. Showing up with a grin on her face, offering Birdie a bouquet of wildflowers hand-picked, shaking hands and talking about how quickly she could blow a target from the sky seemed to sell Birdie and the rest of the crew immediately. She was a peach.

Then there was herself; Marianne Salinger.

Tail gunner.

Sort of oddly lanky, but not super tail, slightly scrutinizing of others that weren't her crew, painter and animal lover when the war wasn't on, and a Frank Sinatra fan that even if his mother showed up, Marianne would've professed her love greater onward than that. She even found a stray orange tabby named Frank to join her.

She was a lot of things in ways, but very observant. Incredibly observant. Overly observant. And sometimes - to be like that hurt.

Because right now, Birdie was dead.

And the Silver Bullets crew was pilotless - the vacant spot staring the 90% crew in the face, the empty cot where Birdie's things had been like a sore bruise on the body - aching, but almost gone.

In moments like this, Marianne always admired Lieutenant Montez.

Probably since she was first brought into Silver Bullets and introduced to the Silver Bullets co-pilot; Lieutenant Francis Montez.

The good-hearted Californian.

Called you five different nicknames before sticking with one.

Keeping the brave face on in front of the rest of the Silver Bullets crew after Captain Faulkner's death.

Especially when she'd been right next to her when it happened.

So, in shifting herself to the left side in her cot, yawning widely and letting out an overdramatic 'hmph' as she snuggled into her pillow, hearing a rather distressed and choked cry leave someone's lips sent her sitting straight up in her cot. The quick movement made her heart pound, a pressure building behind her eyes and the sudden realization, from a quick glance at her watch, that it was only 0400 with the moonlight still peaking through.

Marianne swiveled her head around the barracks, squinting in the darkness, attempting to seek out who it was. Truth be told, after losing Birdie, nightmares became a normal thing - and some nights, no one slept. It'd been a tense and uneasy atmosphere for nearly a week and with no new pilot, things were even more worrisome and weary.

The only person holding them together was co-pilot Francis Montez. And currently, she was the one breaking down. Marianne could tell because it came from the far corner of the bunk room, closest to the door. And Francis didn't ever let it on that inside she was hurting. It's probably what hurt Marianne the most to see.

At dinners and lunches and breakfast - Francis would be sat, that blank look in her eyes, that ache buried deep inside, barely eating and trying to laugh it off seconds later.

Slowly standing to her feet, and nearly tripping over Frank's little pillow on the ground that he'd taken to, she picked her way down the rows of the crew towards Francis.

Deep-down, she probably should've stayed in her cot, kept her mouth shut and let Francis deal with her emotions. But a sudden urge to protect her and hold Francis through a moment like this was all she wanted to do.

Marianne approached the outlined form on the cot, bathed in a sprinkle of moonlight and held her breath, debating if she should turn around now.

"Lieutenant Montez?" Marianne whispered, her voice causing Francis' form to freeze-up entirely, turning to look over her shoulder towards Marianne stood there, as if a ghost had appeared - Marianne almost choked out her words, "I just heard something and wanted to make sure you were okay and then I saw you were awake and-"

"Salinger." Francis said, voice slightly hoarse, silencing her rambling, "I'm fine. Just, some fucking nightmare. But, it's fine. I'm going out for a smoke anyway. Take the edge off." Marianne stood, cheeks heated red in the darkness, as Francis stood to her rather tall height and picked up her A2, throwing it on roughly, before grabbing her smokes' box and heading towards the door. Marianne's heart hammered in her chest before she wiped at her nose and cleared her throat.

"Need a buddy?" Oh, God, now how awkward do you sound? Francis turned and looked at Marianne and she balked. "Uh, need a buddy. Ma'am." Francis stared at her in the darkness and Marianne swore that she could've died on the spot if it was possible.

"Sure." Francis said and then turned to the door stepping outside. Marianne skittered to follow her out, slowly shutting the door behind herself and settling down on the stoop in front of the barracks beside Marianne.

Outside, with the moonlight, Marianne could get a better look at Francis' face and saw the dark circles under her eyes, the fading scar from the incident on that fateful day and the blankness of her eyes all at once. Her heart ached.

"Want one, Salinger?" Francis said, placing one on her own lip before offering the box. Marianne - resident and very adamant non-smoker in the group - stared at the box before looking at Francis again. Francis usually never offered because she knew Marianne didn't smoke, but Francis seemed on a whole different planet right now. And something made Marianne want to take one.

"Yes. Yes, ma'am." Marianne said, reaching forward to pluck one out of the box and place it on her own lip - the paper taste wasn't nice. Francis chuckled slightly.

"You don't have to keep calling me ma'am or….or Lieutenant. It's fine, seriously." Francis said, glancing at her, "Here." Francis leaned forward and gently lit the edge of Marianne's cigarette before leaning back to light her own. Marianne's warm cheeks failed to dissipate and she couldn't help but watch as Francis clicked the lighter closed and then popped the cigarette off her lip and blew out a drag of smoke. She didn't realize her staring until Francis looked to her and waved a hand.

"You there, Salinger?" It didn't take long for Marianne to blink herself out of it, before inhaling the cigarette chemicals too fast, breathing it in and hacking up a lung, loud and noisily, before gasping for breath, the cigarette forgotten between her fingers.

"Sorry," Marianne croaked out as Francis gently tapped her back, clearing her airways, "I don't smoke."

"I forgot about that," Francis said, sounding slightly defeated and guilty, "just not with it right now."

Marianne recovered her bearings and slight moment of embarrassment and looked to Francis sat beside her, staring out towards the airfield at night, planes silhouetted in darkness. It was an eerie feeling - knowing she had died on that plane, after getting up into it thinking there'd be many more times after. Knowing that cockpit would remain empty until the replacement showed up.

Knowing that plane was still sitting out there, soaked in that feeling, those memories, that moment.

"Probably because it's 4 am. And you need sleep." Marianne said quietly, looking over at the co-pilot, "Brain won't work and wire itself right without it."

"Can't sleep most nights anyway so," Francis said, popping the cigarette on her lip and clenching her jaw, "if I do, the nightmares come so, prefer not to if I can."

"Of Birdie?" Marianne asked. Francis grew quiet and continued staring out, blank-eyed. It grew quiet and Marianne wasn't going to push her - fresh in the mind, only four days ago - she almost regretted saying Birdie's name, but she knew Francis needed to get it into her mind what was going on. She needed to be able to talk instead of bottling it inside.

"Yeah." Francis said quietly, pulling the cigarette from her lip, "It replays in my mind. Every night since it's happened." Marianne watched as Francis looked towards her, tears in her eyes. She watched as Francis shook her head, biting back her lip and looking towards her again.

"It was our second mission. We just got out here. And….and she's already gone." Francis whispered quietly before looking out at the darkness again, "They won't allow us to fly until they've got someone new in here, and…I don't know, going up there again and she's not next to me. I….I don't know." Marianne glanced sidelong at Francis again and watched as the co-pilot reached up to angrily wipe at some tears in her eyes and sigh.

"I gotta get myself together - there's some pilot from San Diego coming in tomorrow anyway - Atchinson….something or other. I gotta…." Francis let a hand linger lightly over her body, a display of dissatisfaction on her force, "I know I won't go back to sleep so. Don't want to keep you awake. I'll be fine." Marianne watched Francis - did she actually think Marianne would leave her sit out here alone and suffer in silence? In the darkness?

"I can stay." Marianne said, her cheeks growing warm uncontrollably. Francis looked over at her, slightly surprised. Marianne stuttered. "I mean, I can stay and we can talk. So you're not alone. I don't mind. Mind being here with you. With…" Marianne watched as Francis looked towards her a small smile on her face, dark eyes watching Marianne with mirth.

"When in doubt, Mari Salinger's gonna make sure you're not alone," Francis said, her eyes never leaving Francis' as she reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze, "thanks, Mari."

Marianne sat there, incredibly aware of the feel of Francis' hand on her shoulder, the warmth from the co-pilot's hand now infiltrating her body, along with the look in Francis' eyes that simply only watched Marianne in this endless darkness. It took a matter of seconds, but then Francis was pulling her hand back, unflinching, and removing her cigarette from her lips again and nodding to her.

Clearly, she wasn't unchanged, but Marianne felt like her entire world had shifted on its axis and suddenly, she wasn't sure if she knew how to breathe right or if her lungs were working.

"So, you hear anything about this Atchinson?" Francis asked her cooly, waving around her cigarette between her fingers and rubbing her temple, "You always got the scoop on this sorta stuff, so." Marianne cleared her throat and looked at Francis.

"I…I must say it's the first time that I really don't know much to anything about her. Just that's she's a pilot. From San Diego. Captain ranking I believe. Nothing more." Marianne said quietly with a shrug, focusing on a spot of dirt on the ground and attempting to pull herself together, "Say, Francis…what happens if this doesn't work out?" Francis glanced at her and raised a brow.

"Come again?" Marianne balked and cleared her throat.

"Atchinson. Uh, Captain Atchinson. What happens if the fit isn't….the right one?" Marianne asked her, "You heard Harding. He said 'We gotta make it the right fit.', the hell is that supposed to mean?" Francis watched her and offered her an upturn of a smile.

"They don't just want anyone up there, Salinger." Francis said to her with a nod, "Birdie was more qualified than any of us. Best of the best. And she hand-picked the group of us. Now. We're down our command pilot and the spot's vacant. They're not just throwing names in a hat and picking out the first piece of paper they touch." Francis smirked.

"Which, I'll give 'em credit, they're looking out for us," Francis said and Marianne's cheeks warmed as Francis smirked at her wider this time, "but that don't mean much, I gotta say. Until that replacement's in the sky with us, until you really know what they're like….I don't know. May not know the right fit until they come back after a mission and know what it's really like." Marianne slowly nodded and glanced back at Francis.

"You think Atchinson's gonna work out?" Marianne asked her, her mind thinking, if Birdie were here tomorrow, to meet her, would she like her? Francis shrugged.

"You can only hope," Francis said quietly, "I don't know though." Francis sighed and scratched at the back of her head for a moment, her dark hair tied into a bun that rested gently on her neck, where the scars of that final flight for Birdie had occurred. They both fell quiet, Francis smoking her cigarette, Marianne trying to get a wrangle on her head and her heart.

"Hey, Francis?" Marianne asked quietly, watching as the co-pilot turned to look towards her. Francis' eyes were always dark and consumed with something no one could ever quite distinguish, but for the first time in what seemed like a while, they were clear and quiet. That chaos, that storm inside was calmed for once.

"What's up?" Francis asked her, as Marianne watched her.

"If you ever need to talk to someone in the future, whatever it is, I'm here. We all here." Marianne said quietly, tapping her fingers against her up-bent knees against her chest on the stoop, the warm night breeze running over her bare legs, "We all lost Birdie." Francis watched Marianne and slowly nodded, tears forming in her gaze. It was those few seconds in between recognition and having a breakdown that Marianne caught as Francis squeezed her eyes shut and bit back her quivering lip.

"I just don't want you all to think this is it for Silver Bullets, for all of us," Francis whispered quietly, her voice breaking, "that without Birdie, we're done for. We all worked to get here, you know. We all deserve to be here, sticking out necks out, dealing with all the shit from everyone else. We're all here because we earned it. And I just….I don't want to show that in front of everyone. That it fucking sucks trying to keep it together, trying to cooperate with a replacement that won't ever be like Birdie. Knowing Birdie won't be coming back." Marianne watched her, tears welling in her own eyes. Her throat tightened as she tried to speak.

"You're not alone, Francis," Marianne said quietly, "Birdie's always gonna be up there, alright? Watching over us." Marianne pointed to the sky. Francis managed a stifled cry and wiped at her tears and sighed.

"I know." Francis whispered.

"Birdie would want us to keep going, too," Marianne said quietly, "remember when Birdie told Judy that one time about how years from now, when people think about this war, our names are gonna be apart of that. Silver Bullets is, too. Even if there's a replacement. Birdie's name is gonna be sticking in that, too. She'll always be here."

Marianne wasn't sure what happened, but in a span of a few seconds, Francis had scooted over and wrapped Marianne in a hug, holding her close, a few silent trembling cries somewhere near her right ear.

Slowly, Marianne wrapped her arms around Francis, holding her there, and letting her feel those emotions for a moment where the only thing watching was the cloudy moon. Francis wasn't a heavily emotional person, so when she pulled back after 30 seconds, Marianne wasn't surprised that she was clearing up and nodding herself back to life.

"Sorry, Mari," Francis said, patting her arm and sighing, "just, thanks for that. Just needed to hear it from someone else, ya know?" Marianne nodded with a small smile, for the first time seeing their co-pilot come a bit more to life, especially in the past week more than anything.

"We're always here." Marianne said, with a small smile, "We are a 10-woman crew. Not a 1-man." Francis chuckled wetly, wiping a few more tears from her eyes as she smiled again.

"I know it's barely 5 am, but they might have coffee out. Wanna join me?" Marianne watched Francis and it only took about a millisecond for her brain to respond.

"Of course." Marianne said with a smile, following Francis to the mess hall for a cup of coffee. A cup of coffee at 5 am to ponder the horrors of the week was all one needed to ready themselves for another day, another mission, another breath of air. It's all Francis needed and something Marianne needed to. It's what they all needed.