#much delayed and procrastinated on but I got it out before day's end!

[troutfur]

Adding a CalmMo prompt: the au where Jay is Dove and Ivy's dad and some cute father/daughter moment(s)

Ah Jaydad! A favorite fluff and angst subject! 💚​ I have something in the works that is still getting the kinks ironed out and may just have some Jaydad content in an unorthodox way. We'll see. I still have to get through rebuilding the habit as November goes on.

(Wanna get in on the ficlet fun? Check out my guidelines and hit me up for your one-scene ficlet request. I still have lots of space open.)

For this one I took something someone said onceto me about how there could be some kind of point of connection between Jay and his daughters as newborns, how at the beginning of their lives they experience the world in a manner similar to him.

Enjoy!

“Still enraptured by them?” Poppyfrost asked mid-yawn as she brought her front leg down her mate’s chest.

Jaywhisker whined in protest and half-heartedly tried to elbow her away to no avail as the larger queen easily pinned him down. Such was the price of sharing a nest with her. He could’ve taken a break, quite easily, and yet he had insisted in moving in with Poppyfrost and help take care of the two small bundles they now had under their care.

“If anyone ever told me you’d be this eager to stay inside of camp for any reason,” Poppyfrost said, punctuating it with a lick behind his ear, “I’d never believe them.”

From under her Jaywhisker gave a huff as he began trying to wriggle out.

“They’re hardly half a moon old,” Poppyfrost continued. “I don’t think you’re missing out on anything particularly exciting. They’re just kits afterall.”

“Just kits? It’s our litter,” Jaywhisker spoke up with a tone of indignancy. “Our first litter in fact. I don’t really think you can really speak much to what I am or am not missing.”

She rolled her eyes, wiggling to maintain him pinned under her. “Well~” she chirped before grooming a little more behind her mate’s ears and then shuffling off him in order to her paws. “Since I have someone so gracefully voluntering to keep looking after them then I suppose I can go get some sunshine and catch up with the goings on in camp can’t I?”

“Have fun,” he said with a flick of his tail as he began to stretch. They were lucky that they had the nursery mostly to themselves in the end like that. Jaywhisker still remembered enough of his kithood to shudder at the thought of being so cramped once again.

Jaywhisker kept an ear twisted to the entrance, not letting his guard down until he knew his queen had gone far away enough already to not be able to try any more of her games. With her outside the nursery he gave a yawn and began looking for the little bundles that were toddling around.

When his whiskers brushed over one of them --if he had to guess by the developing scent Dovekit, but he still got it wrong more than he wanted to admit-- he heard her mewl in protest and turn around to paw at his muzzle.

“Does that tickle?” he asked, a purr beginning to rise on his throat as he began rubbing them a little more vigorously against the tiny form.

The kit continued to mewl in protest and paw at her father’s nose, prompting the purr to deepen. She only stopped as her sister clumsily walked into her, called by the commotion, and the two rolled into each other as a tangle of limbs.

“Careful, careful,” Jaywhisker said as he went to pick up the kit he’d been playing with by the scruff and then deposited here away from her sister. Then he went up to the other one and with a careful prod from his face he redirected her attention away.

As the two little curious bundles continued their clumsy exploration of their living space, Jaywhisker kept always close, listening intently and trying to follow along. It reminded him of himself, whether exploring camp for the first time or being drilled in the layout of the territory by Brightheart. He almost wished he could have more time with them like that, but from what Leafpool said brightness was beginning to bother them and it wouldn’t be long after that they would come into light like their clanmates.

[unsupervised-meatsuit]

Inconveniences, Cultists, and the Warehouse of Rejected Toys

Cross posted on AO3!

If there was one thought that Marinette could attribute to describe the entirety of this situation, it would be that Thursdays suck.

It is not the most commonly hated day of the week, since that dubious honor belongs to Monday, for rather obvious reasons. Since it is so universally hated, however, it never comes as a surprise when the bad things come out to play. Oh, there was a fire in the office next door over the weekend, and now the air conditioning smells like burnt rubber and brick dust? That's just Monday for you. A villain attack in the warehouse district caused a shipping delay and that package you ordered got lost somewhere? Disappointing, yet unsurprising. The subway is so packed that a sardine tin would be spacious in comparison? Well, that's the subway every day, so it doesn't really count.

Tuesdays and Wednesdays are just that, days. Nothing exciting, nothing awful. Middle of the line, going through the motions, monotonous. Whether trudging through or in the zone, things get done and nothing exciting happens. Fridays are, of course, celebrated as the finish line, the checkpoint in the marathon of life that says 'you made it! You can take a rest now'. The final stretch before the glorious work-free weekend. The one where you can go home with the comfort of knowing there are no alarms coinciding with dawns break, just waiting to sneak up on you too soon. No annoying coworkers waiting with their metaphorical talons and too-cheerful-to-be-real attitudes, ready to interrupt your flow at the worst possible moment. Fridays are the tantalizing breath of freedom, just awaiting for the clock to strike.

But Thursdays? Thursdays are the worst.

They are the day you always forget. The one that sneaks up on you, where you wake up with the inkling of hope and relief that the end brings, only to have the crushing realization that it is not, in fact, Friday. Like seeing a finish line on the crest of a hill in front of you, only to watch as the closer you get the further away it seems. The one where you cram every ounce of procrastinated effort into the projects you have been putting off until right before the deadline, wishing for nothing more than an IV drip of straight espresso into your veins, followed by a three century long nap.

The day where you get kidnapped by an evil cult and strung up from the ceiling next to an unconscious vigilante, simply for the crime of being a nice person in Gotham.

Or maybe that is just Marinette.

'Embodiment of good luck and creation my ass,' she thought bitterly, rope digging painfully into her elbows and just below her ribs. 'Oh yea, let's go to Gotham. The city is unbalanced and needs a Guardian to fix all of the curses. That is such a great idea. Nothing bad will happen! Well what do you call this then, Tikki?!' Marinette sighed, the feeling of pins and needles creeping down towards her bound wrists as she swung precariously some twenty-five odd feet above the concrete warehouse floor, trying to ignore the worry she felt being separated from the little deity. Beside her was none other than Red Hood; former(maybe? she's not sure) crime lord, gunslinging vigilante, and too freaking heavy for his own good. Seriously, for someone who uses firearms almost exclusively, there is no reason for him to be so damn muscular. Or tall. Completely unfair for someone to hog all the height like that. It's what got them into this whole mess to begin with!

Well- That wasn't entirely true, but still. If he didn't weigh so much, Marinette could have easily grabbed him and run from the masked, potato-sack-wearing, nonsense-spewing, second rate fanatic occultists before they even knew she was there. But no, Red Hood just had to be the size and weight of a small bear, and now they were both in this mess.

"I should have never gotten out of bed this morning..." She muttered despondently, hearing a groan come from the limp figure beside her.

"Son of a bitch..." Red Hood murmured, voice changer in his helmet distorting the words to be near incomprehensible. The following string of curses as he presumably opened his eyes and took in their predicament was much more audible, however. Looking down, Marinette couldn't even begrudge him the swearing.

The two of them were currently hanging from a catwalk suspended in between two of the six total concrete pillars and directly above where the aforementioned potato-sack-wearing cultists were busy drawing out chalk guidelines for some kind of complex ritual circle. She couldn't quite make out what it was meant to be yet, seeing as it was in the early stages, but she could assume that it wasn't anything good for their would-be sacrifices. They were really dedicated, too, not even glancing up at the vigilante that was giving his best impression of an angry drenched cat. One of them even had a protractor and was double checking all of the angles in the twelve pointed star. Clearly, whatever this ritual was meant to be, it was going to take a while to complete.

Red Hood clearly didn't appreciate the attention to detail, which honestly? Fair. But the way he showed his displeasure at the situation involved thrashing around in the cocoon of thick chains wrapped securely around his whole body. (Marinette was only a little bit jealous at the differing treatment, since if she had more than a single rope wrapped around her torso, it wouldn't hurt nearly as much, but also it would make escape harder.) The thrashing wouldn't bother her if it weren't for the fact that A) they were both tied to a rickety catwalk, and B) every time there was movement on said rickety catwalk, it caused Marinette to bounce around and dug into the already forming bruises on her arms and abdomen.

"Hey, could you cut that out?!" She snapped, wincing in pain. Her voice caused Red Hood to whip his head in her direction and freeze, "You aren't the only one here strung up like a pinata, and unlike you, I'm not wearing any armor. I would personally rather not be split in half and spew my intestines all over the place like a macabre birthday celebration, thanks!" There were several long moments of silence while he stared at her and she attempted to alleviate some of the pressure of the rope. She was unsuccessful, sadly, but at least she was no longer bouncing. After a few moments, the swearing started up again, much more vehement than the last time, though without the accompanying thrashing, thankfully.

Marinette huffed, turning her attention to the warehouse below, allowing him to get it out of his system. It was very clearly disused and permeated with the smell of dust, but not quite abandoned as she would expect. Various sizes of wooden crates were scattered and stacked all around the stained brick walls along with stacks of empty pallets and cardboard boxes. The center of the large building was a two stories tall square, held up by four concrete pillars fading into darkness and broken windows. The empty space was only broken by the catwalks that were claustrophobically close to the exposed, rusty rafters, and a disused... crane thingy on an I shaped track above the two truck-sized doors to the right. In front of and behind them were what she guessed to be offices with windows that overlooked the main floor and connected to the catwalks through discrete side doors. The bottom floor continued underneath the offices where there were stairs resting against the back wall, though they were barely visible through the deep shadows and pallets of stacked boxes.

Directly underneath them, the cultists had cleared out a large area and hung up bright florescent floodlights that cast stark shadows pointing down towards their try-hard craft project. They had a cheap table set up to the side covered in candles, chalk, various liquids, jars, and bowls of different white powders, which Marinette guessed was salt or bone dust or something of the sort. Oh, and rumbling minifridge full of blood bags. There was that, too.

"-toe-eyed shit monkey fuck-tard motherfucking piece of-" Red Hood was still going, but seemed to be somewhat running out of steam. Or different ways to say the same swear words. Or maybe breath, Marinette wasn't quite sure yet.

Down below, the cultists remained focused on their ritual. Or, at least most of them did. Only about four total were actually doing any drawing or plotting out, with exactly twelve seated a little ways away from the star's points, all meditating. There were three more that Marinette could see, and from what she could tell, they weren't very focused on anything work related, if the one holding the weird, green-haired doll was any indication.

Marinette squinted in concentration, calling on her connection with the Kwami to sharpen her senses and hear past the still-swearing Red Hood.

"-whole box full of the creepy little things." The one holding the doll said, her voice disdainful. I hereby name you Dolly, Marinette thought, eyes flicking to the medium sized crate she had pulled the doll from. It had some kind of toy company logo on it, though not one that she recognized.

"Why would you even go looking through those?" the other cultist asked, somewhat judgmentally. And I hereby name you Judgy.

"I was bored." Dolly replied flatly, inspecting the green haired doll in her hands.

"Aren't you supposed to be watching the sacrifices?" Marinette squinted, tensing slightly despite the flare of burning pain it caused, but the cultists didn't even bother looking in their direction.

"No, that is Mark and Jacob's job." She waved dismissively, not glancing up from the doll. 

"Ah." He paused for a moment, before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Who thought it was a good idea to put those two together?"

"No clue. Better them than me, though. I hate watching sacrifices. They always cry and yell at me, or try to beg their way out. It is so annoying. I'd rather just be bored." Judgy nodded in agreement, shifting his weight and crossing his arms. Marinette couldn't help but scoff quietly. As if.

"Well, at least you get to look through dusty crates and find creepy dolls this time." They both stared at the doll for a few moments as Dolly scoffed.

"Yeah, and that totally makes up for the fact that we are a day early. I had to call out of work for this shit." She said sending a small glare at the cultist with the red trim decorating their burlap 'robe' before looking back at the doll. Dolly turned the thing over in her hands before finding something on the back of it. "Oh hey, there is a switch here." 

Marinette could barely hear a tiny click as the switch flipped and the two went quiet as they waited for it to do something. Dolly shook it, but got no response aside from the sounds of chalk scraping concrete, plastic rulers clattering, the constant drone of the minifridge, and the sound of moving cultists that overlayed the faraway screeches and honks of the city outside the warehouse walls. The two(plus Marinette) waited to see what the doll would do for several more moments to no avail.

"Does it need batteries or something?" Judgy asked. Dolly opened her mouth to reply, but didn't get the chance as the doll's eyes lit up and laughed, long and loud, to the cadence of Judgy's voice. It was unsettling, and very clearly reminiscent of a certain clown. The way it echoed around the warehouse amplified the creepiness. It was somewhat comical how Dolly jumped and scrambled to flip the switch back off as almost everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their heads towards her in unison, though. Or, well, it would be if it weren't for the fact that these people had strung her from the ceiling up and were waiting to sacrifice her to whatever entity they worshipped.

Marinette was jolted out of her concentration by a throat being cleared, and her head snapped towards the source. Beside her, Red Hood was looking in her direction(or at her, it was hard to tell with the helmet) and very clearly no longer swearing.

"You done, now?" She sassed, glancing back at the cultists she was so rudely interrupted from eavesdropping on. Dolly and Judgy were looking sheepish(as much as one could look sheepish, wearing *that*) as most of the others glared at them(presumably). The one with the red trim on their potato sack seemed to be scolding them, and about half of the ones sitting at the star's points weren't looking, continuing to meditate unbothered after the initial interruption. Interesting.

"Yeah. Sorry about that." Red Hood said, sounding somewhat uncomfortable, though it was difficult to tell through the voice changer. Marinette didn't look back at him, scanning the warehouse for the two that were supposed to be watching them.

"No, it's fine. Not everyone can be cool under pressure." She said smoothly, squinting into the deep shadows on the ground floor, sharpening her vision with as much of her magic as she dared, though there weren't any people hiding that she could see. They will be somewhere that they can easily see us, but won't have to pay much attention...

"Excuse me?" He asked, taken aback. Marinette began scanning the catwalks above them, craning her neck and analyzing them for hiding spots. Or rather, for comfortable areas to hang out and pretend to be working. Clearly, these cultists have gotten too used to their routine. Which is a bad sign for all the previous sacrifices, but good for us.

"I mean, it's not every day that you get kidnapped and hung from the ceiling, so your reaction is understandable." She turned her head to the vigilante after determining that the lookouts were not visible, who was looking at her, the feeling of incredulity coming through loud and clear.  "Though I would have expected you to be a bit more used to this kind of thing." She spoke with a note of scorn in her voice. He was the one to lead the cultists outside her apartment in the first place. She was just trying to take out the trash when he flopped over unconscious right in front of her. And Red Hood was unnecessarily heavy. And muscular. And well proportioned. And tall. Is that a tailored leather jacket? It looks well made, even through the chains. He would make a great model, honestly. Broad shoulders, long legs, nice chest- Gah! No! Focus!

"Wh- it-, no I am not used to waking up chained to the ceiling." He said with a growl in his voice that she could almost feel in her chest. Marinette suppressed a slight shiver. Why do warehouses always have drafts?

"Really? Huh." She said absently, looking around the grimy and broken windows that lined the upper wall above the truck doors. Unloading dock, I think it's called?  "I got the impression that Gothamites were unfazed by stuff like this." Beside her, Red Hood scoffed, head turning to look below them and presumably analyze the cultists.

"Being kidnapped, sure. Happens all the time. Sometimes, it's even on purpose. Being tied to the ceiling, not so much." The obnoxious red helmet ticked to the side, eyeing her presumably. "What, is this normal where you come from?" From the small huff she could tell the question was clearly meant to be rhetorical, but Marinette answered it anyway.

"Eh, it's not my first time." she looked down at the ritual circle and 'bored' cultists who were completely ignoring the two, having opened up another box filled with what seemed to be... bags of gumballs? Interesting..  "At least it's just cultists and there is no swimming pool full of boiling soup." Marinette shifted, attempting to regain feeling in her fingers without putting her full weight on her bruised ribs. She had never wished to be transformed more than she did right now. Heck, she would even take the old onesie she used to call a superhero suit. She really did feel like she was about to be split in half. "Though whoever tied this rope did a much worse job than Kung Food." She said with a grimace, rocking from side to side and scooching the rope downwards a little bit. It stung, and the balance was a little more precarious now, and she just knew it was going to be hell on her back and core muscles, but at least it didn't hurt as much, so she took that as a win.

"... please tell me you are joking." Red Hood asked with a note of desperation in his voice. She grimaced, thinking back to the wafting steam and the smell of the since renamed 'Marinette Soup'.

"I wish I was." Marinette said, resigned. The thought was sweet in theory but thinking back, having a soup that you almost got cooked into renamed after you is pretty morbid.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He muttered with what she could only assume was mild distress. She knew the feeling.

"It's fine." She said, stretching out her fingers that wanted nothing more to curl in on themselves from the lack of blood flow. Marinette twisted her wrists and reached her hands in a way that just barely let her nails latch onto the poorly tied knot of the hemp rope. Seriously? This is just sad. I don't even need help from the Kwami to get out of this.

"It is very much fucking not." Red hood said pointedly while, assumedly, pinning her with a glare. Not that I can exactly go anywhere yet, anyway.

"I would shrug if I could, but as you can see, I am physically disinclined to do so." She looked at him with a sardonic smile, vaguely gesturing with her head at their general predicament. Eyes unfocusing, she concentrated on the feeling of the rope latched underneath her fingernails and started pulling at it.

"Could you be any more nonchalant about this? That is supposed to be my job." The deadpan response so monotone it sounded nearly robotic through the voice changer caused her to let out a small huff of a laugh. Ow, that hurt. Come on, you stupid rope, work with me here!

"Would you rather I be freaking out, screaming and crying about how we are going to die tragically?" She asked, pulling a face as one of her hands started cramping from the curled position. Ow ow ow ow-

"Absolutely not." Hood said without hesitation. So close... YES!

"Then I don't see what you have to be complaining about here." Marinette smiled triumphantly as she finally felt the rope around her wrists loosen, stretching the discomfort away as much as she could. Red Hood was silent for several long moments as she took in a few deep breaths, attempting to shake the few strands of hair that had escaped her high bun out of her face. Okay, wrists are free. Next are the ankles, then I can slip out of the rope and climb up onto the catwalk without falling to my death/serious injury in the process. Easy peasy. I just need to-

"You are something else, you know that?" He said in a tone that she didn't quite know how to name, distorted as it was. Marinette paused before she could start to move onto the next step, looking into the expressionless helmet of Red Hood that somehow still failed to hide that she had his full attention. She blinked several times, confused. "I don't think I have ever seen such a pretty smile, especially not in a situation like this." He clarified. Marinette couldn't stop the pink rising to her cheeks, and she had absolutely no idea what to do about the sudden flutter in her chest, but what she did know was that this hot vigilante/crime-lord had just(maybe?) given her what sounded like a compliment, and she needed to say something.

"Why thank you. You aren't too shabby yourself." Marinette said, realizing as soon as the words left her that her automatic response might have not made sense.

"... Thanks?" Red Hood said, tilting his head slightly. And then Marinette opened her stupid, stupid face hole.

"I mean- you have quite the impressive mouth on you." She said, followed by a long moment of silence as he stared at her. "WAIT- NO! I didn't mean that! I meant- well- I didn't not meant that, I'm sure your mouth is just fine- but not like fine fine, or it could be, I'm not saying it isn't, it's just with the whole bucket-head thing I can't tell either way so like- I'm not commenting on how nice your mouth is- I just- What I am trying to say is that your ability to use your mouth is what is impressive." The vigilante made a faint choking noise, and Marinette had approximately the half a second it took for her to register what she just said before wishing that she could cataclysm herself in the face. "NO! WAIT! NO! That's not what I meant! It was- talking- using mouth, but not like-" she started sputtering, words tumbling out of her without control, and the faint choking noise coming from Red Hood turned into full blown coughing.  "SWEAR WORDS!" She finally shouted, face bright red and a shrill note in her panicked voice echoing faintly through the warehouse. None of the cultists so much as looked up, clearly ignoring them, for which she was thankful. Oh my Kwami, kill me. Please. Right now. Strike me down without remorse.

Red Hood was gasping for air beside her in between wheezing laughter and coughs that rattled the catwalk above. Marinette honestly couldn't remember a time she had ever been more embarrassed. Not even in Lycée. Honestly, if Hawkmoth were still around, she might be in danger of being akumatized out of pure embarrassment. A high pitched whine escaped from the back of her throat as she glared at the vigilante, trying to hide her misery behind anger.

"Don't laugh at me!" She tried to sound intimidating, but it came out more petulant.

"Fuckin'," he said in between wheezes, "swear words!" If he were standing, rather than hanging, Red Hood would undoubtably be doubled over in laughter. As it was, he was curled up in the air in the shape of an unnecessarily beefy shrimp. Marinette was just thankful that he wasn't looking at her, or she might just explode. In an effort to distract herself, she quickly kicked her legs up behind her and began untying the rope around her ankles, putting her focus into remaining balanced rather than the laughter beside her. Unfortunately, it only took a few seconds and a couple precarious wobbles to free her legs, leaving the loop around her torso and the two free strands in her hand. Oh, and the Red Hood who was taking in deep breaths like it was an Olympic sport.

"I will fight you." She said, something burning in her chest as she glared at him.

"You're adorable." he said, getting his laughter under control.

"I will fight you, and I will win." Her scowl deepened as she glared into the lenses of his helmet.

"I appreciate the threat," he quipped back, voice filled with mirth, "but no offense, you look about as dangerous as a feather duster." Face still bright red and heart still pounding painfully, Marinette's eyes narrowed. Then, she smiled sweetly.

"I take full offense and I will make you eat those words." She said with the full confidence of a Ladybug.

"Uh huh. And how exactly are you going to do that?" Hood said teasingly, sounding as if he were just entertaining her. Her only response was to grin toothily, tip forward, and then fall.

Marinette allowed the precarious balance she had carefully kept for the past however-long it had been to fail and slide through the single loop of rope. The friction of the rough hemp fibers burned as it scraped along her arms, but it was worth it to hear his panicked gasp and the rattle of chains as her bent knees caught the rope(ow- that'll bruise), the only thing keeping her from plummeting two stories. She swung back and forth a couple times, building momentum as she allowed her muscles to relax for the first time since she got kidnapped and Red Hood hissed out something unintelligible from above her. With one last swing and a flex of her poor, abused core muscles, she sat up and grabbed the rope, climbing her way onto the catwalk with little trouble. She let out a small sigh of relief at finally having semi-solid ground underneath her feet. She hasn't exactly been afraid of heights since before her time as a superhero, but being in the air for so long get stressful, especially without her transformation.

"What the hell were you thinking- Are you okay?!" He asked somewhat frantically, the catwalk under her feet swaying as he twisted in an attempt to look up at her. No. That fucking hurt. She smiled before replying cheerfully.

"Of course I am! What, worried for my little feather duster arms?" She dropped the two rope pieces on the catwalk and then reached up to undo her bun which had become tragically loose from the kidnapping.

"Oh, ha ha." he muttered with a sigh of mild relief, "Point made. Okay, so it looks like there is an exit near the stairs which you can go through those offices to get to. It is really dark, so if you are careful and stick to the shadows, you should be able to get out and find a way to call Commissioner Gordon and tell him to-"

"Nope." She interrupted curtly, holding her hair-tie in between her teeth and running her fingers through her hair a couple times.

"-What?" Red Hood asked, tensing. Marinette grabbed the hair-tie before responding.

"I said no, I am not going to do that." She took a deep breath, shaking her head side to side to test the security of her new high ponytail. Good enough. "First of all, you weren't awake when they brought us in here, but those doors sound like hell itself trying to escape into the mortal realm via rusty hinges, meaning there is no way that I can get out without being noticed." Hood grunted disgruntledly, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Marinette took the opportunity too look over everything from this new vantage point, now just barely able to see into the dirty windows of the offices behind them, one of which had faint light coming from within.

"There are other doors and windows, you could find a way out." he said pointedly, head turning briefly to glance at the rope she had been hanging from previously. She couldn't quite see any movement in them, but the farthest one had a broken window, so she could only assume that the office with the light was where Jacob and Mark were.

"Second of all," she continued, "there are two cultists who are meant to be watching us, and no matter how negligent they are, they still managed to catch you. From what I have overheard, they have done this enough to have a solid routine, so they can't be all stupid. If I were to leave, we would only have a limited amount of time before they noticed." Down below, Dolly and Judgy seemed to have gotten bored of looking through crates and were both hovering over a phone while leaning against the foldout table, watching something. The third cultist that appeared to be on watch had tucked themself into a dark corner and seemed to be taking a nap against a pillar. Perfect, let's hope they stay like that.

"You would still have time to get away and call for help. The streets are a maze, they wouldn't be able to find you once you got away." Red Hood said with a light growl. Marinette could feel the catwalk move underfoot as he shifted slightly, swaying back and forth like a cranky pendulum. Her eyes flicked to each of the cultists down below, all looking consumed by their respective tasks.

"Yes, however, the chances of them just continuing with their ritual and ignoring the missing sacrifice are not great. They could panic and scatter, rush through and sacrifice you with a half done ritual, or any other not great outcome. So again, a time limit. Which brings me to point number three," She said, holing up three fingers. "We are currently in the warehouse district, which is a forever-and-a-mile walk away from anywhere I could find someone willing to lend me a phone. Even if I were to walk right out of here and they don't notice, they would have plenty of time to finish up their evil scheme and get the heck out of dodge before help arrives."

"Drive, then." Hood shot back. Marinette held back a wince, her eye twitching instead, thinking about the last time she drove a car. Or, tried to drive a car.

Marinette and Grandma Gina looked into the turbulent lake, drenched and covered in mud, listening to the slowly approaching sirens, smelling of burnt rubber and smoke. The previous panic fueled screaming echoed in her ears now that it was silent. Her Nona turned to her, pale and somewhat shaky, but with a smile on her face.

"I won't tell your parents if you don't."

"Deal."

"Do I look like I know how to hotwire a car? Or how to pick pocket someone's keys?" She asked rhetorically, already knowing what he thought she looked like. 'Adorable.' 

I'll show him 'Adorable.'

"Then," he said slowly, posture wary and tone frustrated, "What exactly are you going to do?"

"I already told you." Marinette replied, leaning down and looking directly into the glowing eyes of the Red Hood's helmet with a smile, "I am going to make you eat your words." Marinette didn't allow him to respond, standing in one swift motion and walking quietly across the rickety metal and towards the open archway of the offices behind them. 

Time to get to work.

Marinette was careful to keep her steps light an even, hand ghosting over the steel cable railing that ran along the side as she made her way towards the office with the intact, if filthy, window. She was fairly confident that was where the two cultists that were meant to be watching them, Mark and Jacob from what Dolly said, were hiding based off of process of elimination. Once she took them out, she could take her time with the rest since it will be less likely that they will notice her missing. With how adamant these cultists were about not looking up, she could almost think they were video game characters. The time she had spent hanging from that damn rope wasn't completely wasted, as she was able to put together the beginnings of a plan for how to do that without outing her superhero abilities or skills. Sure, what she had said to Red Hood wasn't *completely* truthful, as she was certain she could find a phone and call for help in ten minutes if she really wanted to, but...

"-no offense, you look about as dangerous as a feather duster."

That's not happening. She had something to prove.

Okay, so steps. She thought as she reached the wall of the office and creeping towards the window in a crouch, trusting the darkness and the cultists inattentiveness to hide her. First, take out the lookouts.

Marinette looked over her shoulder and out into the shadowed building, finding the darkest place from the perspective of the window and shifting herself into that space before slowly lifting her eyes over the dusty window ledge. Her gaze flicked quickly through the room, dimly lit by a small camping lantern on an old desk situated just in front of the door with a chair on either side. On the opposite wall was a couch where the two cultists were-

Marinette jerked downwards, flattening herself against the filthy brick wall with a newly bright red face. That was a lot of- Where did they get the- Okay! Not thinking about that! That's fine. This is fine.

…

"At least they won't notice I'm missing..." She took in several deep breaths, staring intently at the patterns of rust on the catwalk's railing. 

"I am never going to unsee that."

After a few long moments, Marinette crept her way around the edge of the office, through the arch and into the hallway. The door to the office the cultists were in was closed, *thank the Kwami*, but the empty one was cracked open. The stairs downward were straight ahead, swathed in darkness and shadows. There was less echo, and it was in general quieter in the hallway except for faint- not thinking about it. 

"Step one, focus on step one." She whispered to herself, straightening up and slipping through the cracked door into the empty office, careful not to catch her clothes on the door handle. This office wasn't as empty as the other one, and seemed to be much more dusty, though that might be attributed to the broken window more than anything. There was a desk in this one as well, though it was pushed against the wall on the far side with paper scattered all over the floor on front of it. Instead of a couch(Not thinking about it), this one had a stack of chairs, a duffle bag, and a hefty looking toolbox. Dumped dead center in the room was a frankly ridiculous pile of guns, knives, and what looked like a miniature version of a harpoon. In a much smaller pile next to it was her purse.

"Tikki!" She whisper-shouted, diving forward and scooping up the bag.

"Marinette!" the small Kwami excitedly yelled back, muffled through the fabric. Once it was opened, she whizzed through the air to hug her holder's cheek.

"Are you okay? Did anyone see you? It's not another Chloe situation, is it?" She blabbed with worry until the Kwami pulled back and smiled reassuringly.

"No. I'm okay, no one saw me." Marinette let out a sigh of relief, slouching where she stood. "Are you okay, Marinette?"

"A little bruised, but fine." She replied, examining her arms for a moment to see what was going to be a line of ugly bruises and some serious rope burn, before turning back to her friend with manic energy. "But, Tikki, I have been challenged!"

"Challenged?" She echoed with a tilt of her head and a sparkle in her eye.

"Red Hood thinks that I am 'as dangerous as a feather duster' which is frankly ridiculous- just because I am small does not mean I am not mighty!" Marinette said with a pout and a defiantly raised fist, to which Tikki giggled.

"So what are you going to do to meet this challenge?" the little goddess asked, floating higher in excitement. In response, Marinette bounced on the balls of her feet with a near feral grin.

"Here's the plan-!"

"Hey, Oracle, have you heard anything from Hood tonight?" Nightwing asked as he swung between two of Bludhaven's buildings and away from a foiled break-in. He was still catching his breath from the quick but brutal fight. He managed to leave unscathed for the most part, barring one lucky hit the woman with a crowbar managed to get on his bicep that left a shallow, if jagged, gash and was already forming a nasty bruise. It was going to make his night job rather unpleasant the next week or so, which wasn't great, seeing as he and Red Hood were meant to bust up a cult that had had been causing trouble tomorrow.

"Last I herd from him, he was chasing you through the house with a serving plate." Came Oracle's quick reply, the sound of clacking keys hiding under her flippant and amused voice. Nightwing rolled his eyes with a fond smile as he alighted upon the edge of a building, taking a moment to sit down and rest.

"Oh, har har. He was supposed to be doing recon for our bust tomorrow, I want to make sure he hasn't gotten himself in trouble." He said, settling down and kicking a leg out over the edge of the roof.

"From what I heard," Red Robin chimed in, "There was no 'our' about it. Hood made it very clear that he was going to go after them without you."

"Mhm," Oracle hummed in agreement, "I distinctly remember something being said about 'forsaken bonds of siblinghood' and that you are 'beyond dead' to him." Nightwing remembered that. He had been so excited at Jason actually referring to them as family out loud that he hadn't really paid much attention to what was actually said beyond that until afterwards, though.

"Oh, please. He was just cranky because he was too slow and I got the last of Agent A's cookies." Nightwing said with an eye roll. "He wouldn't go after a dangerous cult by himself just because of that."

"Are you sure about that? This is Hood we are talking about." Red Robin said skeptically. Nightwing opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off.

"Chatter on comms." Came Batman's gruff voice, silencing everyone. "Oracle, check in with Hood."

"Already done. His comm is off and all of his trackers are showing that he is in his safehouse on the border of the Narrows." She replied promptly, there was a pause as more keys clacked in the background.

"His security system is armed, too, with a window having been opened and closed at around eight forty-seven pm and no activity since." The silence between them was loud as the vigilantes digested the information.

"I'm on my way." Nightwing said gravely as he sprung up from his spot and shot his grapple gun in the direction of his motorcycle.

"Enroute." Batman grunted over the sound of revving engine.

"I'll try and track down his location." Oracle said, her amusement from before gone.

After a few seconds, Red robin chimed in with a deadpan voice.

"Even after all these years, you still underestimate the pettiness of this family."

Nightwing's sigh was lost to the buffeting wind as he swung down to the streets below.

Locking the two lookouts in the office was probably the easiest step of any plan that Marinette has had in years, being able to check that off after simply sliding a chair underneath the handle in order to lock the two inside. Thank all the Kwami I don't actually have to go in there and interrupt whatever it is they are doing... Still not thinking about it!

The next step, while still relatively simple, wasn't going to be nearly as easy.

Step One: Take out the lookouts, Check. Step Two: Gather Supplies.

Which means finding supplies, which means sneaking past the 19 remaining cultists on the main floor without being caught or seen. Simple as can be, but not exactly easy. Add in pilfering through and opening the many crates, some right next to the main area for the cultists? Not easy in the slightest. Thankfully, Marinette wasn't exactly someone to give up that quickly, and she wasn't alone.

There was a quick glimmer of light that burst through the dim room and a tingling feeling in her fingers as the summoning spell completed, burning up the small sticky note she had drawn on and replacing it with the inert foxtail pendant, dark orange fading to a white tip separated by five segments, hanging off of a delicate gold chain. As she pulled on the necklace however, its appearance changed to be purely silver with the segments disappearing, the bright glow of another Kwami appearing before her flashing through the shadows.

"Guardian." the Kwami greeted, bowing respectfully in the air before looking around with his bright purple eyes, taking in the dirty office.

"Hello Trixx." Marinette responded with a smirk, "Ready to cause some mischief?" The Kwami's ears perked up as he smiled brightly.

"I always am, Guardian! What did you have in mind?" He responded eagerly, following Marinette as she crept to the cracked office window.

"Okay, down there are nineteen cultists who we need to take down before they manage to activate their ritual and sacrifice the vigilante who I got captured with." she began, pointing out the shifting shapes moving through the harsh brightness of the floodlights and Red Hood, who was mostly obscured by the rusty catwalks and shadows. "We are going to need to get them all at once, or else we will be caught, and I can't transform without revealing my identity."

"I am happy to lend my Illusions to keep you hidden from their senses until it is time to pounce!" Trixx said eagerly, twirling around in the air, illusory sparks dancing in between his paws.

"Thanks Trixx, but I will be channeling your magic this time, we don't want another dancing Eifel Tower incident." The Kwami pouted, but agreed, diving into the inside of her jacket and joining Tikki in the small pocket dimension sewn in there. Marinette took in a fortifying breath, strengthening her connection to the two Kwami and feeling the magic course through her. She *probably* pull this off without it, but there was no way that she was going to let any opportunity pass her by. She promised Red Hood that he would eat his words, and she was going to serve them to him on a silver platter. With a final exhale, she turned away from the window and went to examine what she had in the room that she could use.

The first thing she checked were the drawers of the desk, pulling them open slowly to make as little noise as possible, despite the rusty ball bearings. It was well worth it too, for the sight that greeted her.

"Yes!" she exclaimed in a whisper, pulling out one of the three and a half rolls of duct tape and an unopened reel of fishing line, ideas already springing to mind. "This couldn't be more perfect!" she whispered with a grin, looking in the remaining drawers. Aside from the various bits of paper, she pulled out a container of thumbtacks and paperclips, six carabiner clips(two of them being broken), an unopened packet of yellow sticky-notes(she already had some light pink ones in her purse, but she wasn't going to pass up more), and an oily can of WD-40.

At the opposite end of the room, were the duffle bag and the toolbox, which aside from the pile of weapons that she assumed to be Red Hood's, seemed to be the only other potentially useful things here. Marinette started with the toolbox, finding a couple of hammers, a mallet, a huge red monkey wrench, some screwdrivers, a jar of assorted rusty screws and nails, and a thing of Allen wrenches. Out of everything, she only took the monkey wrench and set it with the other useful objects on the desk. Next was the duffle bag, which when she opened it, revealed itself to be full of a bunch of other duffle bags.

"Huh..." she muttered, staring at it and running her fingers along the hefty cloth. It's a good thing that it is cloth, and not plastic. Though this does feel like polyester, it won't have that crinkly sound whenever it is moved, so I can use it to transport things from the crates downstairs. With a definitive nod to herself she stood, dumping the extra bags on the desk and pulling the now empty bag's strap over her shoulder.

"Okay, here we go!" she whispered to herself before slipping out of the room and towards the dark stairs.

Jason didn't know whether to be amused, pissed, or suspicious, so for the moment he was settled decidedly on 'bewildered'.

The cult had been somewhat out of the ordinary from the beginning. The string of disappearances that led to him finding them were, sadly, not too uncommon. The cult aspect of it however, was a bit of a shakeup from the usual human trafficking, territory disputes, or straight up murder cases they normally take on. Just different enough to make it interesting. What *hadn't* been ordinary was the glowing tranquilizer darts that could go through his Bat-approved armor. Bruce was not going to be happy about that when he found out. Hell, Jason wasn't happy about it now.

All of his memories from that point on were fuzzy in that familiar way that could only be caused by drugs, but he remembers getting away. At least, he thinks he remembers getting away, but clearly he didn't seeing as he woke up dangling from the ceiling next to some tiny, blue-haired French woman.

A tiny, blue-haired French woman who Jason was stuck watching sneak around the shadowed edges of some warehouse with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder and a smile on her face, surrounded by murderous cultists.

He was surprised with the skill she moved around with. Despite her confidence, he had expected her to get caught near immediately, and was mentally preparing himself for a whole slew of situations that could arise from that inevitability. But, much to his chagrin, she practically waltzed right past the cultists without so much as a curious head turn in her direction. Her style of stealth was much different than what he was accustomed to. She didn't meld into the shadows like the bats did, but she moved silently and with a confident sort of grace, using her surroundings to their fullest. Her path around the edges were calculated, he could tell, keeping obstructions in between her and the cultists as much as possible. She even climbed over and across a few crates to stay out of the peripheral of the two occupied with their phones, keeping her weight on the corners and junctions to avoid making noise or breaking the old wooden boards. It was something that Jason himself wouldn't have been able to do(not that he would need to in the first place), and it spoke of either years of practice sneaking around, or a lot of talent. All in all, he couldn't help but be grudgingly impressed. Not to mention suspicious.

She was clearly more experienced in these situations than he first thought, even including that concerning comment about some ridiculous food based(and possibly cannibalistic, which is a red flag for multiple reasons) villain she mentioned, and the damn Bat Patented Paranoia that Bruce managed to instill in every one of his wards was coming to light. Who was she? Is she a threat? An ally? Or just some random girl with more skills than sense? He didn't know and that was bothering him, so he watched.

It's not like I can do much else.

And he had tried. Despite how easily she had slipped through the rope they tied her with and climbed up with a strength and fluidity unexpected from her tiny frame, Jason remained stuck in his swaddle of chains. After searching for his hidden weapons when he had first woke up and finding them missing, he had reluctantly reached for his backup comm, before remembering the small argument with Dick he had that led him to stupidly spitefully take on this cult by himself in the first place, as well as leaving his comm and trackers in a safehouse along with a rather heartfelt 'fuck you' note. So, there was no way for him to get out, no way to call for his fam- the bats. His whole escape rested on the shoulders of the four-foot-tall-at-best, blue-haired girl with a smile too carefree for Gotham's rough edges and baked-in soot. The girl who was currently carrying around an empty duffle bag doing god knows what as she somehow silently pried open a large crate with confident motions and said mischievous grin, as if there wasn't a cult of psychos one mistake away from catching her.

No, he wasn't worried about her. He was frustrated that he was currently damseled. There is a difference, Dick.

"I already told you. I am going to make you eat your words." 

And... maybe a little intrigued.

Though, despite his years of vigilante experience, time on the streets, growing up in Wayne manor, and his training with the League of Assassins, he had absolutely no fucking idea what she was going to do with a duffle bag full of Harley Quinn inspired rubber chickens.

It took nearly all of Marinette's willpower not to giggle with glee when she found the crates of rubber chickens in her search for the Joker-inspired dolls(Which, seriously, who's idea even was that??). They were about three crates full that she could identify, all with the same logo as the boxes full of creepy-laughing-fake-clown-things and they were all fortunately placed near-ish to the opposite staircase that she came down from. This side of the warehouse was more crowded, mostly covered in pallets of cardboard boxes and some crates interspersed throughout.

This is perfect!

It took her a few trips and a couple close calls to get enough of the rubber chickens up to the office without accidentally setting them off, but thankfully she didn't have to sneak around the main floor for it, using the catwalks above instead. Admittedly, she used a bit of Luck to avoid the overly creaky paths and get away with it, but no one else needs to know that. Gathering up the neon-green-haired-monstrosities was quicker since she already knew where they were, but a tad more difficult seeing as the boxes were just behind and to the side of Judgy and Dolly(She could practically feel Red Hood's stress while she was doing that). For that, she called on more of Trixx's power to stay as silent as possible. Next, she went though the boxes farthest from the cultists, sifting through them quickly and making several trips up to her designated storage office.

Step four of The Plan had gained some wonderful additions in the form of metal BB-gun pellets, jacks, bouncy balls, and the gumballs that she had seen the cultists looking at as well, but she was getting ahead of herself.

There was one thing that she almost passed up, though, but the smallest of tugs from her Luck caused her to take a second look.

And by the Kwami, is she glad she did.

If the abundance of warnings on the package hadn't peaked her interest, the bold lettered label she read afterward sure did.

'FAST ACTING, WATER ACTIVATED SUPER GLUE POWDER'

"Hehehehehehe" Marinette couldn't help but giggle near breathlessly from where she crouched, shrouded in the darkness of the stairs, holding onto the sturdy plastic container with an evil grin.

Bruce loved his kids, he really did.

If he for some reason, in some way, ever lost all of his memories or sense of self, he would remember that. If there were nothing else left of him, be it from mind control, magic, head trauma, or for whatever reason, having to sell his soul to some malicious entity, all it would take is just looking at one of them and he would know.

Bruce loved his kids.

He loved them when it wasn't easy. Through all the fights, be them together against criminals and supervillains, or against each other with harsh words and silent treatments. Through moral differences, his failures and communication issues. He loved them when it was stressful. Through all the injuries and sickness, tough nights on patrol, prank wars that cost him thousands of dollars in repairs or teasing that ends in brawls over the dining table. He loved them when it was easy, too. Family dinners, game nights, public outings, or just working quietly in the same space.

Bruce loved his kids, and wouldn't trade them for anything.

But sometimes?

Sometimes he really wished he could give them back.

"This is Red Hood speaking, bringing you your top of the hour weather report," came the all too glib sounding voice from the speakers mounted in the corners of the warmly lit room. "Be careful out there tonight folks, because it looks like the clouds are heavy with betrayal and the threat of tyrannical and patronizing vigilantes!" The fake newscaster voice called out, echoing around the bare off-white walls that were splashed with black paint. Some were splotches or droplets, abstract Rorschach-esque compositions surrounded by messy and dripping quotes. The section directly opposite the window where he stood read 'Et tu, brute?', surrounded by twenty-seven kitchen knives, stabbed into the drywall.

"Condescension is an epidemic, easily spread through contact of those near you, so he careful to keep limited contact as to not fall prey to it's effects," Hood's voice spoke, glee very clear in his tone. Next to the circle of knives there were two more quotes on either side; 'Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime', and 'For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.' The second quote he recognized to be from the hunger games, though Bruce couldn't quite pinpoint the origins of first.

"If you are hearing this, you clearly didn't take my message to leave well enough alone seriously," the newscaster voice dropped, leaving Red Hood's sounding all too proud of himself. "To whom it may concern; consider all future collaborations null and voided, you are all dead to me, I never had a family, yada yada, etcetera etcetera. Any who enter my territory are personally liable for any and all actions or damages against them, including but not limited to inconveniences and humiliation via glitter, slime, paint, and dye. Please vacate the premises or suffer the consequences. Have a pleasant day."

"Oh, and tell Nightwing that he is a little bitch."

Bruce spent several moments to just stand in the empty apartment, staring at the pile of trackers on the table laid out in the shape of a middle finger. He sighed.

I love my kids.

Step two of Marinette's plan was coming together well, and she was close to moving on to the next phase.

The good part of hanging from the ceiling for longer than was even mildly comfortable was that she could see a lot with the bird's eye view. Many parts of her plan had gaps when she first started out, since she didn't know all of the materials available to her, but step two fixed that quite easily.

If there was one thing that Marinette had learned from her years as a Superheroine, especially one who fought a villain that preyed on people's emotions, it was how people reacted to sudden danger. Adrenaline does funny things to a person, taking perfectly rational thought and turning it into blind action. Fight or flight is a strong, instinctual reaction for all kinds of creatures, not just humans. When there is nowhere to run? You fight. When there is nothing to fight? You run. And when you run, what is it that you look for?

Step One: Neutralize Lookouts, Check. Step Two: Gather Supplies, Check(mostly). Step Three: The Path of Least Resistance.

There are four main exits and nineteen total cultists on the main floor. Two normal doors on each side underneath the offices that lead out of the building, and two large truck doors. With no real way to predict exactly who would go where, she has to assume that the best case scenario is each door having four or five cultists exit through them, and her traps being able to take out all of them at that number. Realistically, that isn't feasible. It could be all of them go through the same path, and most escape, or it could be that they scatter so far, they bypass the majority of her traps, leaving all of her work to be for naught. With how things were now, there were too many variables, too many obstacles, and too many unknowns. 

But this was Marinette. This was Ladybug. And it was time to do what a Ladybug does best; even the odds.

Marinette crouched on one of the catwalks that was hung in the direct center of the warehouse, just to the side of the cultists' ritual, her small travel sketchbook in hand. She was drawing out her plan and doing her best to ignore the prickling feeling of Red Hood's eyes on her as she marked out the best way to do this.

Two pillars on either side of the circle with the table and minifridge set nearest to the one towards the back side of the warehouse. The other one is down and to the side of the right most truck door, giving the least amount of room for error. To the left, further out and underneath the offices is the door we came in from, and it is the most likely exit that they would choose, seeing as it is at least marginally familiar, easier to open than the truck doors, and second closest. On the opposite side of the warehouse is the other normal door, which has the benefit of being in the darkest section of the warehouse and having a much longer path to set traps up on, but less likely to be chosen...

She leaned forward against the thin railing of the catwalk, staring down at the activity below and tapping her pencil against her chin as she thought. She heard a rattle of chains and couldn't help but lift her gaze to look at the source. The faintly glowing eyes of Red Hood's helmet stared at her intently from where he hung. She smirked at him, giving a little wave with her fingers, before an idea came to her and she looked back to the rightmost truck door.

If I block that one off and make a longer curved path from the side of the circle, it gives more of a chance to take out a few on the path. I could... Yes, that'll work.

Marinette quickly doodled a whole bunch of little boxes on her paper.

Then I could use the fishing line here and here, then all of the jacks, pellets, gum and bouncy balls on this side, then- hmm...

She looked up with narrowed eyes, examining all of the rafters and catwalks above where she was planning for the paths to go. Then smiled. That would work perfectly. Within another minute or so her sketches were finished and she stood, feeling giddy to see the end results of her plan. Before turning back to head down she looked again at Red Hood's intense stare, and gave him a wink.

Marinette spent the next half an hour moving boxes from one pile to another, shifting crates, and pushing pallets to create solid looking barriers, all while trying to remain as silent as possible, and there had only been a couple hiccups along the way. Along with a couple interesting discoveries. The first had been while she was creating the longest path, creating a good number of empty pallets for one of her planned traps.

Marinette had stopped as she brushed up against a solid feeling thing wrapped in plastic, and took a moment to examine the pallet next to her. It was hard to see in the dark and with the little light there was reflecting harshly off of the plastic wrap, so it took her a few seconds to figure out what it was she was looking at. Two adjacent pallets stacked taller than she was(Not that that was difficult, but good luck to whomever mentioned it cough cough Red Hood), completely made up of heavy paint cans. Marinette looked around, noticing that the path she had been making came directly toward the paint can pallets. There was no way in hell that she would be able to move them out of the way, let alone without being noticed, but... She looked up at the catwalk directly above, to the sides where she could curve the path around the bend and at the conveniently placed pillar, and back at the straight stretch of space she had been making. She smiled as another trap added itself to her list.

The second discovery was while she was clearing the shorter pathway towards rightmost door. To counteract the small amount of distance she had to work with, she decided to split this one in half with what was essentially an island of boxes that tapered off just before the doors. She was doing the shorter path first, despite it being closer to the cultists, because where the longer path was meant to go was filled with heavy crates of what she thinks are car parts which, for some reason, smelled faintly like smoke. Add the fact that Nappy was napping against the pillar over there, she didn't want to risk getting found this early. Needless to say, she was working extra hard to make as little sound as possible.

Marinette's heart had leapt into her throat when something shifted under her foot with a faint metal clank sound, very clearly not the solid concrete ground she had been expecting. Her head snapped up as she froze, straining her ears and glancing around her hidden spot in the shadows to determine if anyone heard. She was still for several long moments, sounds of the cultists washing over her, before determining that it was safe. With careful movements and a momentarily stronger draw on Trixx's power, she moved back slowly. Looking down, she found a slightly warped metal plate that was about the same size as her with a handle in one side. Curiously, she shifted the box she had been moving out of the way and gently pulled the metal plate up.

A shadowed abyss. An all consuming void. A dark, dank hole.

It was a maintenance tunnel, right in the middle of her path.

Marinette gently set the metal covering back down, mind racing. What could she do with this? It was much too good of an opportunity to pass up, and thankfully, she had an idea. Near the back of the warehouse, she could remember seeing a pile of cloth tarps. She could use those if she could just find something stronger than the fishing line...

An idea popped into her head. Very likely a bad idea but... well, she's sure Red Hood couldn't be too mad about her taking apart his weird harpoon-gun if it is to save him from being sacrificed, right? He probably has extras anyway.

She glanced up at the vigilante, then went back to moving boxes with a quiet snicker.

Jason still had no fucking idea what this woman was doing, and it was stressing him the fuck out. His escape rested solely on the shoulders of a woman playing high stakes ring-around-the-cultist instead of calling the cops like any sane person would do!

Jason wasn't as stupid to think that she couldn't have found a phone like she claimed. In face, he was certain she already had one in her purse, which, had to be some kind of pocket dimension to fit all that shit inside of it. Why would someone carry around a whole ass sketchbook and unopened roll of fishing line of all things?

(Jason was ignoring the fact that he knew several people who would, could, and have carried around that and much weirder. In all honesty, he just wanted something to be annoyed about. It was cathartic.)

It had been about an hour or so since she practically skipped her way out of being kidnapped like it was no big deal, and he had spent it with nothing to do but become more appalled and concerned by the second. If it weren't for the fact that he was watching this happen live and in the flesh, he wouldn't believe some of the stuff she managed to get away with. 

The blue-haired woman(he really needed to find out her name) had nearly gotten herself caught already. Not by climbing up one of the support pillars like a spider which the ones on watch missed by conveniently turning away from at the right moment, or making a frankly ridiculously sized pile of boxes in front of the truck door which the sound of was drowned out by the fridge seemingly having a mechanical seizure, or even moving a crate right fucking behind two of the cultists who somehow didn't notice because of a supposedly funny video on their phones! No, she almost got caught by a fucking sneeze.

She had been picking up some pile of cloth from a dark corner that she was undoubtedly going to use for some weird-ass thing that would make perfect sense well after he finally managed to finally get the fuck down and out of this god damned warehouse. But, from his vantage point, Jason could see that in getting so comfortable moving around in enemy territory(helped by the fact that she must be the luckiest person in Gotham. Seriously, share some of that with the rest of us, would ya?) the blue-haired woman had gotten complacent.

He winced as the fabric slipped from her fingers and sent a massive cloud of dust right into her face. Both he and the woman tensed as a long moment passed, Jason in anxiousness, while the woman seemed to be winding up, holding her hands tightly over her face. Then, she sneezed, full body convulsing and letting out a squeak that even he could hear from his vantage point.

…that was adorable.

One of the cultists blow looked of from their phone and looked in the direction of the noise, then asked their partner something.

Oh shit-

"Hey, did you hear squeaking?" Dolly asked, head raising from where she was hunched over her phone. Marinette felt panic rising as she dropped into a crouch as fast as she could, pressing her side into the heavy crate beside her, holding her nose and blinking through watery eyes, the dust making her entire face feel as if it were being attacked by tiny, sword-wielding specks.

"No? What are you talking about?" Judgy responded, looking up from his phone, pausing some video that she could faintly hear playing through their earbuds. Marinette's sinuses stung and eyes watered as she took deep breaths through her mouth, full body seizing several times with the force of holding back the sneezes. She made as little noise as possible, slowly crawling around the edge of a box to be out of sight of the cultists. Owowowow, my everything-

"Dude, are you deaf? That sounded like a mouse getting stepped on."

"Why do you even know what that sounds like?"

"I had cats as a kid."

Taking one hand away from her face, she pressed it to the ground to help her do an awkward crab walk further down the line of pallets to a mostly empty one that lead to an enclosed area where she could die in peace.

"So you've stepped on a mouse before?"

"No I- just- shut up and come check it out with me."

"Hell no, I don't want to see any mice. They're like, the size of rabbits in this city."

"Those are rats you fucking dumbass-"

Marinette crouched next to the pallet, taking more careful deep breaths and wiping the tears from her eyes. She watched carefully from her place in the shadows until they were both fully turned away. She was mostly obstructed by boxes but not willing to risk it. After what felt like an eternity, but was likely just twenty seconds or so, her chance came in the form of Dolly opening a box. She practically dove through the gap left for her and curled up on the floor for a while, recovering her senses as Dolly and Judgy talked. Marinette was only half paying attention, lamenting the existence of dust and wallowing until her half-formed bruises stopped stinging, when the shifting of cardboard and something Judgy said caught her attention.

"That is an unholy amount of glitter."

Marinette paused, a grin pressing against her hands.

I take it back. Worth it.

Marinette can't say that she had ever been particularly talented at sneaking around. It just never came naturally to her. Disguises and hiding in plain sight? That's just like an extension of sewing or acting, easy peasy. Hiding? Sure, she's great at picking the right spot and fitting in tiny spaces, it's just an extension of luck and strategy. Sneaking? That's a different story all together.

That isn't to say that she is bad at sneaking, she's just not talented at it. It means that every bit of skill she has was hard earned through extreme situations and years of practice. Being a superhero made her learn a lot of things, sink or swim style, with no safety net to fall back on. So, despite how... unusual and high stakes this situation is, Marinette isn't quite out of her depth yet.

That's what she told herself at least, standing fully upright with a wooden pallet hanging from her shoulders as she walked with it to a dark corner of the warehouse where another fifteen wooden pallets lay stacked, silently begging the universe that none of the cultists look over at this exact spot. Of course, she planned for this particular trap to be set up just before the leftmost exit, meaning she was as far from the cultists as she could be and had many obstacles in between them, making it very unlikely to be seen, but still. The chance was there.

Luckily, this was the last pallet she needed to set up this trap in particular, so she didn't need to haul any more all across the place. And extra luckily(Thanks to the magic she borrowed from Tikki and Trixx, no doubt), no one saw her walk around the edges of their circle and through the now complete pathways. Well, no one except Red Hood, who had been staring so hard at her this entire time, she wondered if he was trying to spontaneously develop the ability to shoot lasers from his eyes. Or maybe telepathy so he could yell at her for 'unnecessary' risk taking, she could only guess.(Well, he may have a point about the risk taking, but there is no way in hell she would ever say that. She was doing this to prove a point, practicality be damned.) She ignored him, as she had been doing since the beginning, setting the pallet down as quietly as she could despite the two stacks both reaching above her head. After a moment to breathe and admire her hard work, she pulled out the roll of fishing line and her extra pair scissors, tying the two stacks of pallets together and then working her way back through the slightly curved path until she reached the pillar.

Trap list;  Web of Ouch, Check.  Series of Unfortunate Tripwires(1), Check.

Onto the next!

Time flew by as Marinette gleefully set up the rest of her planned traps. A grapple gun, disassembled for its wire, and a cloth tarp carefully placed in front of a slick patch of WD-40. A block of wood suck in the opening mechanism of the truck door and a huge, precarious pile of various sized wooden crates that really tested the limits of her Tetris skills. A person-sized mat of duct tape woven together and placed sticky side up after another Series of Unfortunate Tripwires along the winding path to the leftmost door. A wooden wedge carefully positioned underneath the back edge of the two huge pallets of paint cans to slightly tilt them forward, and another paint can tied to the I-beam above and held to the underside of the catwalk by a thin string. Boxes filled to the brim with bouncy balls, gum balls, BB gun pellets, and metal jacks tied above two of the four exit pathways, a stolen steel-toed boot filled with rocks ready to swing at the turn of a handle. And, her personal favorite so far, a wooden plank positioned just above the cultists' plastic table and mini-fridge, piled with the superglue powder and the wonderful addition of rainbow glitter.

She had managed to test the superglue powder on Nappy, using it to fuse his clothes to the concrete he was resting on, and it was wonderful. There is no way that he is getting up with his clothes still intact. She kind of felt a little bad for the ones who are going to get this dumped on them, but oh well. She's sure the hospital will take care of it.

Probably.

She had managed to find a working water spout and long hose, complete with attached nozzle, that would reach all the way to where Red Hood was hanging, so that was one less thing for her to worry about doing herself. The last thing she set up was the discount Joker Dolls and the Rubber chickens while sitting in one of the disused offices. The whole room had become a sort of base of operations, and looked just about as chaotic as the end product of her plan was going to, but Marinette didn't care all that much. To get the effect she was going for just right, she had to be very careful in how she went about it. Packing in the rubber chickens at the bottom of the crate as precisely as possible then slowly lowering heavy bags of all the black and red glitter she could find to make the chickens stay in their deflated state. She carefully poked holes in the tops of the bags with one of the thumb tacks she had found, before carefully switching on all the joker dolls and placing them in the box.

Marinette will admit to using a lot of magic to make sure this step didn't go wrong, but once the four boxes were attached at their points on the catwalk and connected to her activation pull cord, she couldn't help the little giddy happy dance. It was ready!! The only thing left was letting Red Hood know his part, then the trap is set!

Jason wanted to throw his previous resolve to just wait and see how things turn out through the fucking window, because this was getting ridiculous. Patience has never really been his thing, which is becoming more and more apparent to him the longer he is forced to watch the sheer, unadulterated audacity on display.

He will admit to being mildly entertained in the beginning, watching the woman doing whatever the hell it is that she's doing like it was some kind of soap opera. When The Sneeze(TM) happened, he had been near certain she was caught, but seeing as she somehow had to be the luckiest person in the whole god damn world, she got away scot-free as the two cultists with the same skill level and attention span as low level videogame characters got distracted by industrial sized bags of glitter.

Which of course she later took to use for whatever unholy Rube Goldberg Machine she was making, alongside with a mysterious white powder that came from boxes absolutely covered in warning labels.

But the craft herpes and unprecedented luck were not what made him want to scream at her from two stories up and eighty feet away, cultists be damned. No, that urge came from the very familiar line of cordage she had looped through some kind of tarp and tied in knots, knots!! She took apart his grapple gun and used it for some kind of dirty picnic blanket! HIS FUCKING GRAPPLE GUN! The AUDACITY! He was fuming, glaring as she wrapped a hose over her shoulder and started trekking up the stairs and over the catwalks towards him. 

Finally!

"My fucking grapple gun?!" Red Hood hissed with indignation as soon as she was withing earshot, if barely. Marinette huffed and rolled her eyes, adjusting the hose wrapped around her shoulder to let more slack down.

"Well hello to you too." She said, tone filled with sarcasm and sass in equal measure, but internally she was beaming. He's not ruining her good mood when she is so close to success. She gently laid the hose wrapped around her shoulder down onto the catwalk as she crouched, careful not to make any suspicious noise. Not that the cultists would be likely to look up even if they heard it(After being subjected to the eye-searing glare of the floodlights herself, Marinette didn't exactly blame them, though still...), but it doesn't hurt to be careful.

"You took apart my fucking grapple gun?!" He repeated, voice inching higher. Clearly, some people don't think the phrase 'better safe than sorry' applies to them. She looked up at the rafters, rolling her head back in mild annoyance, as she drew on more of Trixx's power to muffle their conversation before taking a dramatic pose and poorly mimicking Hood's voice.

"'Oh, hi Marinette, thank you for risking your life to save me from being sacrificed by these scary cultists, I really owe you one.'" She shifted her stance and changed back to her own voice. "'No problem, Red Hood, I'm glad you understand that sometimes sacrifices must be made for the continued freedom of the innocent.'" She crossed her arms and looked pointedly in the faintly glowing eye of the Vigilante's helmet with a slight pout. She couldn't see it, but Marinette imagined that he took a split second to blink.

"Was that a pun?" Marinette tilted her head, thinking back over her words before silently grinning. "So not only do you take apart my god damned grapple gun, you fucking pun at me about it?!" Marinette chuckled, uncrossing her arms and going back to carefully untangling the hose.

"You can get another one, cant you?" She asked flippantly, Red Hood grunted in displeasure.

"Ugh... Yeah, but that is so inconvenient." If it weren't for the voice modulator, Marinette would *almost* call his tone petulant, but for now she simply thought of it as pouty.

"Welcome to the club." She responded, to which he huffed.

"What, the club for inconveniences and cultists?" She could hear the smirk in his voice, and had to hold back her own.

"Yep." She responded cheerfully instead, "Meetings every Thursday in the warehouse of rejected toys."

"Why Thursdays?"

"Because Thursdays are the worst day of the week." She said with certainty, staring off into the middle distance as she remembered all the bad things that happen on Thursdays.

Well, at the end of it all, this might not end up being one of the bad things after all...

"Isn't that supposed to be Monday?" Marinette rolled her eyes and huffed in exasperation before shaking her head.

"I'm not going over this again." Red Hood leaned his head back, seemingly nonplused.

"Again?"

"Anyway," Marinette continued, cutting him off from speaking further. "I have everything ready except for this one last thing, which I will need your help for." Hood straightened(as much as he could anyway), as if remembering something and his voice pitched slightly deeper in a commanding kind of way. As a former superhero herself, she was very familiar with it.

"Yeah, actually, I'm going to need you to exp-"

"Shush shh shh." Marinette said, waving a hand at him while distracted with straightening the rest of the hose and turning the nozzle to 'shower' mode in preparation to lower it to him. Despite this, she could feel the affront radiating off of the vigilante. She fought down a smile as she continued. "Don't interrupt people, its rude."

Red Hood made a strangled noise, like he was trying to start several different sentences at once but nothing managed to make it past the first syllable, very effectively cutting off his demand for explanations she absolutely wasn't going to give him. She wished that she could see what his expression looked like right now, it would keep her giggling for weeks.

"Okay, so I don't know how much you were paying attention-" That's a lie, she knew he has been watching her like a hawk this whole time, "but you see the boards I set up with the piles of white powder and glitter above their supply table?" she asked, pivoting on the balls of her feet to look at him, wrapped in chains and hanging above a half done ritual circle.

"Yeah?" The word sounded like he wanted to growl it, but was too off kilter to fully manage. She held back a laugh, but couldn't help the smirk that slipped through.

"Well." She said, holding up the hose next to her head for him to see, "What I need you to do, is spray water on the cultists that powder drops on." She finished with a sunny grin. There was silence for several long moments as they stared at each other, sounds outside their little bubble left ignored. Marinette didn't falter, expression as solid as Hood's helmet. When he finally spoke, it was loaded and laced with emotion and demand.

"Why."

Marinette blinked and tilted her head. There were a lot of ways that she could answer him, ways to interpret what exactly he was asking about. Why the water, why him. It could be why she insisted on being so... Cavalier about this whole situation, or why she stuck around to help instead of running. Or, most likely, it could be why go through all this trouble? Why spend hours setting all this up when a single phone call would have gotten them out of this mess in minutes? And yet...

She felt the magic in her chest swirling, Luck and Misfortune dancing across her shoulders. Creation and Destruction chasing each other through the blurry seams of the world around her. Her connection to the Kwami hummed in her ears, and she felt the Balance on the verge of a Shift. Her words here could change the Fate of this city. A small action could tip the scales of Order and Chaos.

No pressure.

"Because," she said slowly, earnestness in her eyes as she stared through Red Hood and into the Destruction and Misfortune clinging to him like leaches, tainting and feeding on the Hope and Safety in his Soul. Magic seeped into her voice, spreading through her like invisible veins of sunlight and guiding her words. "When life takes you down a path that gives nothing but blood and darkness, the only way to make it to the other side is to create your own light."

She got no response, the vigilante seeming frozen by her words, staring intently from behind glowing lenses. She herself took a few moments to collect her thoughts as the Magic dissipated, the feeling of Balance fading to the background, leaving behind no indication on if she said the right thing. 

But she did, she knew she did.

With a comforting smile loaded with memories of long nights, suppressed feelings and more responsibility than any child should ever have to shoulder, she reached down and handed him the hose. He took it automatically, still processing her words. Marinette stood to leave, before looking over her shoulder and saying,

"Enjoy the show, Hood." She smirked at him, turning and walking away. "Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about how dangerous 'feather dusters' can be."

"I got something." Oracle's spoke suddenly through the uncharacteristic silence of the coms.

"Report." Batman ordered, the speed of his reply being the only indicator of his worry, but after knowing him for so long Oracle could read it very easily. Keys clacked rapidly under her fingers as she hacked into phone satellites and pulled up tracking software.

"A phone call, asking specifically for Commissioner Gordon." She paused for a moment, skimming over the auto-generated transcript from the audio file.

"Hn." Batman grunted impatiently. She could almost feel his signature stare through the computer.

"Hold your horses." She muttered quietly, speaking up again shortly after as several blue dots started appearing and disappearing on the map of the warehouse district on her other screen. "Someone called in to report cult activity and kidnapping approximately two minutes ago."

"Is it Hood?" Red Robin asked, voice calm if slightly winded. A quick glance at his body cam footage showed him finishing up a fight with a couple muggers.

"It seems likely," she said, refocusing. "The video feeds I managed to find earlier put him near the reconnaissance point N gave me before he disappeared, and the call claims two people were kidnapped." Her eyes narrowed at the screen, the tracking software taking somewhat longer to pinpoint the origin of the call than normal, only giving her the general area, but...

"But?" Nightwing interrupted, much more subdued than earlier in the night. Barbara smirked a little at his words aligning with her thoughts. She started combing through traffic camera feeds from the estimated time of the kidnapping to pinpoint the location manually as she spoke.

"It was a woman with a French accent who called it in, and from the sound of the audio, she was suspiciously calm. Almost excited sounding, even." Barbara frowned, finding a suspicious looking beat-up brown van and several cars all driving to one warehouse approximately 3 hours and 28 minutes ago. "There was no mention or description of who exactly the kidnapped people were, though the caller implied she was one of them." There were no cameras pointing towards where they parked, and any security the disused warehouse had was either completely broken on or a closed circuit. She started back tracking the path of the van while she ran the license plates she managed to get from one of the higher quality traffic cams.

"Think it's a trap?" Red Robin asked. She hummed, chewing on the inside of her cheek for a moment. She started looking into the warehouse's utilities, searching for any any weirdly high power draws that would indicate a villain lair, but didn't find anything on that scale.

"I'm sending you the address, B." She said quickly, inputting it to the Batmobile's navigation system before answering Red. "There's not enough evidence to say, but I don't think it is a trap, exactly. All the information we have about the cult from previous reconnaissance doesn't indicate them being a setup, and the call, despite specifically mentioning the Commissioner, was for the police, not us." She checked the rout on the Batmobile's map against hers, looking it over for roadblocks.

"But it is suspicious." Red Robin replied, a calculating edge to his voice.

"But it is suspicious." She confirmed. Construction blocked off the block with the most direct route from Batman to the warehouse, looks like a fire in a machinery overlay facility that took out a corner of the building. The traffic cones and interspersed equipment would be little obstacle for Bruce the Broody Dad-Bat, though.

"Enroute, eleven minutes." Said the aforementioned Overprotective Flying Marsupial. Oracle looked at his tracker.

"Take a left in two blocks and you'll be there in eight." She typed in several commands and a new path showed up on his map. "Careful for the piles of bricks." A flash from another screen caught her attention and she turned her head.

Ah, good.

"Red, I'm sending you the address of where it looks like Hood was taken from. N, I'm sending you files for the owners of the cars that the cultists used. None of them have been reported stolen, so see if you can confirm or find anything incriminating we can give to the police." From their body cam footage, she could see Red pulling out his grapple gun and shooting off while Nightwing quickly looked through his wrist computer.

"What would we ever do without you, O?" Nightwing asked with a laugh, the first one since Hood turned up missing.

"Die, probably." Red Robin responded as he leapt off of a building. Oracle snorted.

"Probably." She agreed

Marinette was in position, crouched behind the cultists' table of junk and fridge of dubiously sourced blood. All of her traps were set and ready to go, the few she needed to activate all connected back to this one spot. She went over her mental checklist with a feeling of satisfaction.

Step One: Neutralize Lookouts, Check. Step Two: Gather Supplies, Check. Step Three: The Path of Least Resistance, Check. Step Four: Traps, Check.

It was a simple plan, though by no means easy. The bruises and rope burn had made friends with the muscle fatigue and aching joints from all the crawling, climbing, and carrying that she had done to get to this point. The close calls that made her heart race with adrenaline bled into giddy anticipation for the payoff. Finally, the culmination of all of her hard work was here.

Step Five: It All Falls Down.

She looked up, past the eye watering glare of the floodlight and directly at Red Hood. With squinting eyes and a toothy grin, she shot him a thumbs up. After a moment, he responded in kind, holding up the hose. Marinette looked back down, blinking a few times to clear the spots from her vision and then steeling herself with a deep breath.

Go time.

Creeping forward, Marinette reached the extension cord that powered the mini-fridge. The very same mini-fridge that filled the warehouse with the constant gurgling drone of an appliance on the edge of complete and utter non-function. With a quick and simple yank and a careful dive back behind cover, the warehouse suddenly descended into silence.

"... The hell?" One of the cultists that had been drawing runes into the edge of the circle muttered, looking up at the sudden quiet, quickly followed by the other three.

"What happened?" Dolly called from the other side of the circle, voice echoing as she stood up from where she rested against a large crate with Judgy.

"The fridge just turned off." Drawing Cultist number two said, setting down her protractor.

"Well no shit-" the third one said, before being cut off by the one in the red-trimmed potato sack.

"Figure it out without disrupting meditation, lest our hard work go to waste." He said in an excessively haughty voice that gave her flashbacks of a certain blond. Marinette couldn't see their faces, but from their posture she could deduce that the four drawing cultists and Dolly weren't too happy about this guy. If she had to guess, it would probably be because his version of 'hard work' consisted of sitting with his eyes closed and bossing people around.

Oh well, that's what you get for being in a cult that kidnapped people, I guess.

The four Drawing Cultists made their way over, two stopping next to the table, one going directly to the fridge, and the last hung back with their arms crossed, just beside one of the meditating cultists. Marinette shifted, hand wrapping around the first fishing line, pulling it until it was just taught.

"Hey, who unplugged-" the cultist never got to finish their sentence, as Marinette *yanked* the fishing line and four crates balanced on top of the catwalks above tipped. Then spilled...

Then it all fell down.

----

Jason had never been big on the Internet. Sure, it was beyond useful for investigative work, but from growing up poor, to living on the streets, to being dead, there wasn't much time for him to get immersed in 'internet culture', as Tim called it. But, he did remember one of Dick's attempts at 'brotherly bonding night' where he spent several hours putting up with far too many compilation videos meant to 'catch him up on what he missed while dead'. He remembered them, at this one very specific moment, because of the one 'Vine' Dick showed them of a rubber chicken falling off a roof. It had been mildly amusing at the time, enough keep him around longer than he otherwise would have stayed. He had even laughed a little, and made a joke about it being accurate to what Dick sounded like when pushed off of high places. The responding squawk from his adoptive brother proved his point perfectly, to the amusement of the rest of the room.

Jason was not laughing now.

If he had been asked before to imagine the bone chilling sound of hundreds of screaming rubber chickens falling through a warehouse like an unholy rain, nothing would have come close to the reality. He doubted anything could come close to reality; the single most unsettling sound he had ever heard freezing everyone in place with held breath as the screaming and thwaps of rubber hitting concrete stopped. That was, until the dolls activated.

From inside the dispersed mounds of toys and clouds of glitter slowly spreading over the floor in a way that reminded him of fear gas, more pairs of red eyes than he could count lit up like beacons, followed by laughter.

Screaming laughter.

Jason knows that if he wasn't hanging from chains at this moment, he would either be running or shooting. His fist clenched around the hose in his hand, and water started raining down below him. At the same time, he heard two separate thunks, followed by what sounded like a rain of vaguely spherical objects and confused screaming from below him.

White powder fell in a heap, coating the cultists and spreading over the floor near the table they had set up, and he remembered what the woman- Marinette- told him. Swallowing down the adrenaline induced haze, he aimed the water as the cultists scattered.

It was chaos.

The three cultists closest to the table had the most powder on them, and when they ran directly under the path of the water, something unexpected happened. The first one fell, foot stuck to the ground, and the other two tripped over them and didn't get back up again, writhing where they had ragdolled against the floor, stuck to it like a glue trap. The white powder got on two more, one of the people who were meditating and the person standing next to them. They ran, only getting partially soaked before they were out of range. They ran for the door behind Jason, clothes becoming stiff and sticky with glue, but not managing to fully stop them. They didn't get far, because as soon as they got to the border of the boxes they tripped over the balls of various sizes scattered over the floor. One fell to the side, catching themselves on a heavy crate while the other fell face first into the floor. Neither got back up, despite how much they struggled.

On the path next to them, two more cultists had tried to escape, but instead of sticking to the floor like the others, they slid on it. Crashing into each other, they both fell head first into a dusty tarp that seemed to swallow them whole as they fell into a pit. The cord of his mutilated grapple gun pulled taught, closing around the edges of the tarp, leaving only a single flailing leg sticking out of the top.

Across from him, on the longest and darkest path, the two cultists who were meant to be on watch followed behind a third at a dead sprint. They gained speed unhindered, until they were around twenty feet away from the door when the one in front hit a tripwire, stumbling but keeping momentum. But then they hit another tripwire.

And another tripwire.

And then another tripwire.

They managed to dodge by jumping over the last tripwire, only to miss the clothesline that hit them directly at neck height. The cultist fell, slamming their head on the ground, knocked out cold with a muted thud.

The two behind didn't stop for their friend, simply jumping over the prone form and ducking past the clothesline, speeding up for the last stretch to the door. They almost made it, but we're stopped dead by the web of fishing line and stacks of pallets that collapsed around the two, trapping them in a tangle of limbs and splinters.

Just behind them, almost at the same time another cultists barely dodged a paint can swinging down from the rafters, only to be buried under the resulting cascade of paint cans that spilled from two huge pallets. The one behind skid to a stop and backpedaled, watching four of their companions go down trying to get out that way. They then turned around, seeing a fifth person groaning on the ground stuck to a mat of tape they fell on after running through another series of tripwires and singular clothesline. In a panicked haze, they looked around until spotting a couple of others at the truck door that wasn't blocked off, trying to open it. The panicking cultist rushed over just as they managed to crack it open, incidentally causing a veritable avalanche of boxes and crates to fall on all three.

There were three left standing. The one with red trim, who was yelling obscenities while standing in the middle of their half done ritual, and the two who were walking through the minefield of tripping hazards that got the ones half-covered in glue. They reached the other side without falling within just a few seconds of each other, the one who got there first sprinting forwards and throwing open the door with a screech of rusted hinges.

Then was promptly knocked the fuck out by a boot to the face.

The last one made it out the door, then screamed. Their footsteps fell silent.

Jason was gaping.

Holy... Fucking... Shit...

Below him, he heard cackling. Not the unsettling, mechanical and screaming laughter of the joker dolls, but the nearly evil delighted glee coming from the small blue-haired woman dancing around with a monkey wrench the size of her arm held in one hand. Her high ponytail bounced behind her, covered in cobwebs and dust. Her clothes were rumpled and dirty, and even from this distance her arms looked like she went ten rounds with an octopus and lost. But despite this, she was practically glowing.

"IT WORKED, YES!!! HAHA!" She shouted out, twirling out from behind her wall of boxes, head whipping around in every direction, taking it all in. The lead cultist whirled around, gaze locking onto her.

"YOU!" He shouted in outrage, immediately charging at the much smaller woman. Jason sucked in a breath, whether to warn her or just shout, he is not sure, but the sound never left his throat.

Marinette turned her feral grin on the charging cultist, and when he was in range, swung her heavy monkey wrench and hit him right in the shoulder. Jason could hear the bone snap. She hit him again, this time in the stomach with a forwards jab, then another swing to the knee with a sickening crunch, taking him down completely and then stepping far enough away he couldn't reach her, just in case. She spun, turning to look directly at him.

"You still think I'm adorable and harmless, Hood?!" She shouted up at him, dropping the wrench with a heavy thunk. "I told you that you would eat your words," she threw her arms out wide "Now eat them and weep!" She cackled madly, not waiting for an answer as she turned and skipped away. Skipped.

Jason was left speechless, open mouthed and hanging above the groaning and unconscious cultists who had kidnapped and were prepared to sacrifice him with only one thought.

I think I might be in love.

The Batmobile skid to a stop in front of the warehouse and he practically flew out of it. The outside was dark, but he could see light seeping out through broken and dirty windows and hear a commotion coming from the inside. He ran towards the closest door, only to be mildly surprised as it was thrown open with a near deafening screech of the hinges when he was still a few paces away. The surprise didn't stop, because even as he was getting into a fighting stance, the person(whom he identified as one of the cultists his sons were investigating) was knocked out by a boot swinging down from the crude mechanism he only barely had time to noticed before it activated.

… What?

Pushing his confusion and surprise away, he focused on the second cultist that came running through the loudly closing door. They made it a few steps out before noticing him in the dim lighting. Expression already contorted in fear and panic, the shock of seeing Batman standing in their way was too much, and they screamed.

Bruce punched them in the face, then spent a few precious seconds zip tying their hands and feet so they couldn't escape when they woke up. Creeping forward to the door that was held open by the unconscious body of the first cultist, he peered inside to where he could hear a woman's manic laughter. Once he did, he stopped to take it all in.

His son, in full gear, was hanging from the ceiling, wrapped in chains and holding a leaking garden hose. Below him was a small woman covered in dirt and injuries, laughing maniacally as she stood above an even more injured cultist who was trying to crawl away with one arm, and another pile of people somehow stuck to the ground. He could see a hole of some kind to the left with a single still-moving leg sticking upwards, and to the right two people splayed out like ragdolls. He could hear muffled arguing and curses from the other side of the warehouse, along with creaks of pallets and groaning from underneath piles of boxes. Bruce felt a very familiar feeling creeping over him, one his kids loved to induce for the sole purpose of causing grey hairs.

What the hell happened?

But this time, it wasn't one of his kids who were responsible. He watched as the woman turned, looking directly at Jason and yelling up at him.

"You still think I'm adorable and harmless, Hood?! I told you that you would eat your words, now eat them and weep!" Then she cackled madly, turned, and skipped through to the opposite side of the building.

Well, Bruce thought with a restrained sigh, maybe he was at least a little responsible.

Bruce slid through the door, creeping around the edges of the circle before emerging from the shadows in front of his son. Hood jerked, whipping his head from where he was staring after the woman to Batman. He grunted, clearing his throat before speaking.

"Uh, hi- hey." Jason cleared his throat again, attempting for casual and failing miserably. "How's- uh, how's it goin'?" he stammered, glancing back to where the woman disappeared. Stammered. Bruce didn't answer, tilting his head and scanning the carnage again, before spotting the loop of rope hanging next to his son.

"...How long have you been here?" His tone was harder to decipher with the voice modulator, but Bruce would recognize it easily from any one of his children. Jason was flustered.

"B?" Hood asked, unsettled as a small grin grew on The Batman's face. Whoever that woman was, whatever Jason said to her to cause this reaction, Bruce would likely thank her for the opportunity to get back at one of his children for all the grief they cause him. Uncrossing his arms, Bruce pulled a phone out of his belt pouch. "B? B don't you fucking dare-" He still didn't respond, holding up the device with one hand, and snapping a picture. Ignoring his son's vehement protests, he sent the photo to Alfred with the attached message:

B: please print and frame this for display in the cave.

A: Of course, Sir. I suppose the bulletproof frames will come in useful after all.

Red Hood continued to swear, attempting to spray him with water from the hose he still held tightly in hand. Bruce just put the phone away and reached up to tap his comm with his small smile still in place.

"Oracle, please send Nightwing and Red Robin to my location." He said calmly, concerned exclamations immediately coming through only to be drowned out by Hood's booming voice.

"B, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!"

[mysticsparklewings]

Obscutober 2024 Day 23: Sylvan 🌲

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Sylvan (adj.)

consisting of or associated with woods; wooded

pleasantly rural or pastoral

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I think this one turned out pretty cute, especially since I don’t normally draw trees that often and didn’t really know what I was doing. 🙌

What’s *not* cute is how late I got started on it, now leading me to post in a rush. 😅

Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk a bit more about my general thoughts/process. ✨

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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For the second time this month: Now circling back to do this description properly, after speed-running to go ahead and just get it posted without one. 🫠

But unlike Day 19, today's supreme delay in getting started wasn't rooted in distraction, but rather a mixture of some IRL things demanding my attention (nothing serious that you Sparklers need to worry about, otherwise I'd elaborate), and good ol' procrastination. 😅

I think instead of over-hyping the concept like I did with Day 8, I stumped [ha] myself by..."under-hyping"? Whatever word/phrase I'm looking for that would mean "expecting it to be difficult, in a bad way."

"Sylvan" made the list because I like the word itself—It reminds me of Sylveon from Pokémon, one of my favorites. And even though the definition has nothing to do with such things, the word puts images of Tinkerbell-esque fairies in my head, which is a very pleasant experience. [And now you know where the teeny-tiny butterflies came from. 😆

Why exactly then I was dreading working on this mandala so much when I was reminded it was the next one up, even I still don't really understand. 🤔

And I'd love to sit here and say that once I actually got started that I was worried for nothing, but it wouldn't be entirely true. Granted, it wasn't nearly as bad as my subconcious was insisting it would be, but it definitely wasn't what I would call easy, either.

For starters: It was weighing on me that I didn't want to re-hash too much of things I'd done on Day 10 or Day 19, and in hindsight having all three of those words on the same prompt list was probably not the best idea. 😅 I don't think it's as bad as some same-y/too similar words I've spotted on other prompt lists before, but if I had thought it out further when I was putting the list together, I probably would've forced myself to choose between "Sylvan" and "Rampike," and then go for some other non-tree-related word to fill the space. [Feuillemort most likely would've gotten to stay either way, though; It's easily my favorite word of the three.]

Then there's also the matter that I've been learning the hard way with these mandalas—And again with Day 19 in particular—that I'm not very good at "stacking" and overlapping motifs; My brain much prefers to keep them clean and separate, especially with the more doodle-y ones. But to really get the forest-y look I wanted, I had do at least a little bit of that here.

What I did do turned out nice, I think. I'm particularly pleased that I thought to include a little tree stump as that stage. It felts a bit unexpected, and I think it kind of ironically does more to paint this as more of a forest picture and less of just a tree one, if that makes any sense. Plus it kinda saved me some trouble because the one other idea I had to fill those smaller spaces with drawing tiny stand-ins for flowers, and that would've taken much longer to get something I was happy with.

To that end, I did my level best to make the various tree "types" included look different from each other, but there was a limit to how much patience I had to try and figure out exactly how to do that, as was as I didn't do too much experimenting because I did get a late start and therefore did not have a ton of time in case said experimenting didn't pan out. Still, some experimenting was had.

The first couple of trees were okay because they were first and could be very stereotypical in nature, with some swirly bits for good space-filling measure. The third and fourth were more difficult. [Take a wild guess which one was the fourth design since it had the roughest time. 🙃] At one point I tried a kind of Bonsai-inspired thing, but I couldn't get the leaves into a form I was happy with, and without that, the more Bonsai-looking trees seemed horribly out of place next to the others.

So that's how we ended up with that odd-looking thing with the swirl brands that might look vaguely butterfly-ish. Since I was having trouble translating a more "realistic" tree design into the piece, I just made something up! 😆

After all that, I knew the coloring phase had it's work cut out to try and top everything off in a satisfying way. I don't think this one is as reliant on the colors to bring everything together as Day 21—And in fact I don't think "bring together" would be the best description of what it's doing anyway—but I think it is helping "sell" the forest idea a lot more than if there was no color.

I did make some effort to not make the palette too much like Day 8, Day 12 or Day 17, though. It was a little tempting to make it intentionally more like Day 8 and it definitely still came out bearing a passing resemblance, but my instinct was to keep them more separate and stuck by that. And I stand by that decision now as the right one.

As you Sparklers might have guessed, this is in fact another one where I think if I'd had more time to think through what I was doing and experiment, it may have come out better. But At least I am still decently happy with what I did get out of it; I did actually really like the center with the trunks a lot—a weird feeling since it's mostly a tan-brown halo—and there's nothing I feel is expressly "wrong" with the rest of it. It's just maybe missing a little extra "oomf" I just wasn't able to give it today.

I'm hoping tomorrow's will be a little bit of a different story based on the prompt—if I haven't misread the list again, it'll be another of the ones I've been looking forward to—but there's only one way to find out, and nothing is guaranteed!

See you Sparklers then; Hopefully early enough in the evening I can actually post the art with the description and not have to come back and do it later for a third time. 😅 👋

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See the Prompt List

Artwork © me, MysticSparklewings

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

[cardiaccanesblog]

Silly Little Love Letters to Hockey

Playoff hockey took place when I most needed it in my life. I got to see the first Hurricanes playoff game of the post-season right after coming back from an overall good, but exhausting trip. Playoff hockey got me through the gruelling last few weeks of the quarter, where I was going through the motions to be done with my residency and done with my schooling. Playoff hockey got me through the passing of my grandmother. 

My grandmother’s death was not surprising. She had been in hospice for several years, slowly declining in her health. Two weeks before her death I was told to be ready for the news any day. I lived in North Carolina. My family lives in Louisiana and I waited anxiously for any news, wondering when I would get the call every day, every hour, every minute, and every second. 

I watched the Hurricanes beat the Islanders fairly easily in the first round of playoffs. I also saw the Rangers sweep the Capitals in four games. I watched the first two games of round two end in heartbreaking fashion. The day of the third game is when I got the call. The words I expected, but never wanted to hear, “MawMaw died this morning.” I was one week away from finishing my residency. I left work early and told them I would be back in a few days. I spent way too much time on the Delta website paying $500 for round-trip tickets to get me back home. 

With the tickets bought, and nothing else to distract me, we watched hockey that night. The Hurricanes lost again, once again in overtime. I felt this one a little bit more than the others. I texted my dad telling him that we were going to get swept. I grew up a Saints fan and a Cubs fan, I know what disappointment is like, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 

I flew to Louisiana to be with family. The fourth game taking place the night after the funeral. Family was over, but I convinced my parents to let me turn on the game so I could keep an eye on it. I watched, in quiet awe as the Canes took Game 4. My brother remarked on how I wasn’t screaming after each goal, but I couldn’t. Too emotionally raw from the past few days. 

Pleasantly surprised, I looked forward to Game 5. I joked of a reverse sweep but knew that I should never get my hopes up. Game 5 for me took place on a plane. My flight back to North Carolina. A flight back to anxiously counting down my days, procrastinating on packing, and worrying about my next flight back to Louisiana which was scheduled two weeks from then. My flight was delayed, brought to a standstill on the runway due to the stormy weather that Louisiana is frequently known for. I watched part of the first period on the plane, texting my boyfriend my assessment of the team’s game up to that point. 

After finally landing at my first stop, I was informed that I missed my connecting flight and would not be offered further accommodations other than the plane ticket for the next morning. I spent the night in the Atlanta airport. The only thing that brought me any semblance of joy was turning my phone off of Airplane mode and getting bombarded by texts of the Canes winning. I watched the game at midnight, lying on the airport seats and quietly cheering for each goal. 

When I made it back home, I was running on an hour of sleep and a poorly timed 5-hour energy. My dad texted me and told me to take a nap, and then I could watch the Panthers vs. Bruins game that night. My dad, who never watched a shift of hockey in his life, but was willing to watch it for me, because he knew how much I loved it, knew I would find comfort in hockey. 

I watched Game 6 of the Rangers vs Hurricanes alone. I wasn’t surprised. I knew there was a good chance that the playoff dream would end there. I joked, in a morbid way, how considerate my grandmother was for dying right before the Canes were out of playoffs so I wouldn’t be quite so upset about hockey. I still watched though. I picked new teams to root for and watched those games loyally too. 

Hockey was there for me, and it will continue to be there for me when I need it the most.

[nightguide]

WONDER BOY (HE BROKE YOUR HEART FIRST) STAGES OF A COWARD IN REAL LIFE (DONE ME DIRTY, HUH. KILLINITMURPHY)

actors hell: stargazer stage

SMWC: you hate everything in due time that you'll be great one day (like the star can burn in hell for all i care) and it's you in real life (that one moment) and you're done forever cuz she related to you in one point of time that she needed your help (but you got that joke well deep inside you to know what happens next) see ya l8r (probably the reason why pedophiles in the UK got more reasoning than you do

SH: YOU TELL EVERYBODY YOU LOVE 'HER' (actually the sore loser in real life before she came of age (admit it you're into teenagers without you even saying it)

SH8: *you intuitively tell her 'he ain't worth it' without you 'establishing proof that you had no wit no nothing' (you expected her to worship you)

2. harbingers: well done (insert statue erected in your honour cuz u had ur ass handed over by an intellectual/emotionally swarmed battle over your life as 'king' when you knew you weren't)

SMWC: you knew south park logic (you got dumped)

SH: you enjoying it (your society now, you won that) she doesnt like you frrrrrrr (gay man is not you cuz u had a wife and she plannin to dump you to join the baby gorl party you made up in your head(she was on her side too also)

SH8: you don't like teenagers but you have a thing for 'fluff fan-fic in real life' cuz you now have a reason to go emo-metal like you wanted but you have the same reasoning as Demi Lovato is into Djinns in real life (u emo levelling her journey as her now)

3. maestro become: shut the fuck up, Linna put you in your place. sit there you oh so holy mr reeves (she got a song about you with that) et centera memoriam ___________

SMWC: you hate life (like she did, congratulations, you can breathe air like the rest of us)

SH: time goes by so slowly (Madonna references is how trouble matches your ingenuity bro, u got another mentor since you hated her (actually her in real life)

SH8: this time (actually heartbroken now)

4. dante's paradox: sit with it

SMWC: complete your chores (you procrastinating)

SH: enjoy what's left of you

SH8: your mom is alive

5. judgement day: you knew all along but had that sudden attack realisation that her father does not like you and it's true

SMWC: you felt like her once and this is it (she wanted the best for you but she did her homework (like you wanted her to) but it was never for you: her father is a dajjal to you now (you started the fire now you live in it)

SH: her dreams 'with you' have a maiden voyage and you ain't on it

SH8: you hate living (you knew why)

6. gaiman's hell: now you do it (this time, it's all your fault. not the woman or anybody)

SMWC: you have a lot in your mind that you delayed that you should do (she was once a university student that gave up her job to work for you is now in reverse, it's her kingdom now)

SH: she actually is you (you made her do it and you live it (her home is your hell abode now)

SH8: this is you (you ain't in her psyche, get out)

7. babylon unbroken: hay day (freedom come is you living her life)

SMWC: you knew the party but did not have you running 9gag on her behalf to hate you right back (your religion did not match her high heaven ideals but you hate what you like so you took it out on a- and it's not yours anymore)

SH: you died for tha- and it was her who lived your life (you're an asshole in real life)

SH8: take a look what you've done (she hates you cuz you had what she always dreamed of and you did not like her 'being better' but you hate her world made for you now much more than intuitively possessing her gut for your mistakes to unfold (ND baby did you ugly, didn't she?)

8. kingdom come: world ended (now)

SMWC: what did you do! (she made you think but you kept her slave hunger by tragedy heartbreak cuz you think you can prey on a baby in real time)

SH: you're not in her home anymore (you made her pray for 'you' all along, so you have her craft in you to take over the world as a happy giant not even you can find)

SH8: you did her a massive favour (she got her dad involved and now it's trauma he asked for: good luck with that)

9. pythagorean theorem: what now (you the hero now)

SMWC: live it (your reason to be)

SH: you have a life (she doesn't believe in your traps anymore that control came in the form of you taking her own world with it (what you possessed in actual reality)

SH8: this time, i'll do it for myself (you plan to leave her with a dream reason of you that you'll never be (you hate yourself right now as her but that was what you always wanted, to be a Linna Riaz is you making strings that she can never be a slave, so you realised that you got her in chains as you possessing a baby is you being a dajjal to.... nobody. you a shit head in real time.

[theobsessiveloser18]

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Y/n's Headcanons...

•You don't know if the slightest possibility of being pregnant crossed your mind, all your life you had been a little irregular for more than 20 years of life.

•You wouldn't have thought about getting tested until you Uninhibited friend found out about your long delay and practically threw you at the pharmacy counter

•You had the solution but you had not implemented it,First, you were too busy to bother remembering, second, you were too good at procrastinating to bother doing it, and third, but not most important, you were always Accompanied by your family, friends, neighbors and mostly your boyfriend (the possible person responsible for your 2-month delay).Because of so much neglect, the test ended up being lost, and there was no case, you had no idea where it could be, so you took the easy path of life, you bought another one (If someone came across Clumsily with the thing, you hoped it wouldn't be traumatized)You came back with some things from the market and of course the reason why you left but oh!! Surprise,surprise you hubby, He was collapsed on the couch with his faithful and according to your suspicions True love: banquet coors

“Hey”

“Why so surprised to see me hot baby?It's not like i just a repressed sexual pervert who spends his time spying on engaged women and found your window open.”You laughed internally.

“I just didn't expect that breakfast Where larusso with Amanda cutting through his 'true repressed sexual tension' would last so short. It didn't end in a fight, did it?”

“Not only did they forget that they had a commitment at some of their crappy clubs, Rich shit” You smiled at the irony

“Sure act like you've never been one of them”

“Hey! I went to those shit out of obligation... And I already told you that it's not fun to relate to Daniela that way.”

“I'm sorry, I'm just saying what all of us who don't have vision problems notice” he throwing a empty fast food package at you outside the Pellet “Fine, fine, I'm really sorry, I forgot that my Texan cowboy grandpa doesn't like that kind of jokes,Inappropriate especially in the sight of God”It was his turn to laugh “...but I thank you for not throwing me away this time A bowl”

“It was plastic...and now that I remember, I had been drunk for 3 days!!!” He said quite seriously, which surprised you, but you had already started playing and you never knew exactly when it was time to stop.

“It's not an excuse, I try to convince my family that I'm not in a toxic relationship, but these little parts don't help”

“ Man, you know I could never hurt you and still be alive” He sounded quite distressed, and you felt really bad about your inability to think before speaking, wondering if you had touched on some painful point in his past, you quickly apologized, hugging him,Assuring that it was just one of your bad jokes, he seemed to relax “we're fine?”

“You know the answer significant other”

You kiss him, and they smiled before you entered the ultimate mission without your man having any idea.

“Do you disappear so quickly? A nervous smile appeared on your face, you tried to act calm but you were really not good at this.

“You know, there is a lot to do”

“Shap I help you?”

“No!" You responded too quickly and aggressively, managing to scare him. “No, you would miss the game.”

He simply nodded, took a sip of his beer and returned. As you leaned back on the couch, you sighed in relief, hoping that he wouldn't listen to you, and being grateful that he would respect your decisions, especially when he knew that you weren't being entirely sincere or trustworthy.You would say it was trust, but maybe he was just afraid of being too annoying and losing you, he still had his insecurities, and you just hoped that your intentions to show how much you loved him would work.

After a few seconds you went up to the bathroom with your heart about to stop, wondering if they would still fine after you got answers.

Half an hour had already passed, and Johnny was watching the end of the game, when your curses, too loud, made him jump out of his chair.“what fucking demons, y/n you're okay?”At your silence, he ran towards the hallway, but before he could go up the stairs, you got off them, looking like you were going to kill someone.

You head to the refrigerator ignoring his presence“Do you have a knife hidden in the refrigerator to kill me?” If a murder was what he wanted to see, surely your look would have been enough for him.

“I'm sorry, Miss Sensitivity, I was just making one of your bad-inappropriate jokes, and as usually happens to you, they don't work...so you want to talk?” You threw the test at him while taking out a large bottle of orange juice.

“what the hell is that”

“don't touch it so much,it has a little pee”He looked at you a little strange but he kept looking at it trying to understand how it was supposed to work, he even shook it.”

“How will you explain to a very young child How people are born ?”You asked, lunging at an abandoned package of cookies you found in your fridge.

“Well, would I would tell them that...wait a damn second, is there a damn relationship between this and that?” I asked alarmed, pointing at you.

“Of course there are bees and flowers.” You responded with a naturalness unrelated to the situation.

“what the heck is wrong with you dude?”

“Okay, 2 months ago my body is forgetting a very important and constant part of its routine, so maybe in another 2 months I will be a little fatter than usual, and maybe you have something to do with that,I made it lighter chicken pie?”

He remained almost paralyzed, barely blinking and finding the strength to breathe, your insensitive state prevented you from worrying, due to the lack of his banquet coors, you offered him your new bottle of Red wine, which he hated

“Believe me buddy, it will help you” He took half of it in one sip,You sat on the couch, and found yourself with a barely bitten hamburger. “Do you mind if I finish it?”He quickly denied, “Thank you…drunker, but generous, I have always told my family.” You commented carelessly, he still didn't recover, he gave you a few minutes to eat.

“So... What are we going to do... I mean... what's going to happen to...?”

“the baby, I'm having it”

“rigth”It was the only thing he could say.

“Even so, sometimes the tests come out bad, I may not be pregnant, I will do another one later and it makes you feel better, I could go for a blood test, those never fail.” he walked from one side to the other, he stayed still, he didn't know where to look, he didn't touch the wine bottle again, he looked at the test from time to time

“Look, Johnny, you shouldn't worry, I can handle this” you commented, rubbing your belly

“I have no doubt about that, I know who my women is” You smiled a little at him but he wasn’t done yet “I don't worry about you, I know that even if you claimed you could handle it, you would have company...it's just that

...

“I would like to be part of that company, I would like to be the biggest supporter, I want to be the most involved, maybe... even of the two”

This time you were left speechless and breathless, You couldn't blush naturally, but if you could you would be a mutant tomato right now, you had fallen a little more in love.

“There are many things that I have done wrong and others that I simply have not solved, and the baby should not be an excuse to forget everything I have done and what I have not done, but I want it to be a kick to this Fuckin’ curse I’ve established my whole life, I want to stop ruining things,For Robby, for Miguel, for Sharon, and especially for you, I want to be there and do this right.”The shine in your eyes almost managed to distract him, but this time he was determined to say what he really felt "unless of course it makes you uncomfortable?"

“I would never throw you out of this Johnny, I only made the way for you if You would like to leave”

“Well, I don't want to leave."

"So we're in this together." You stood up and extended your arms and he came up to hug you.

"I don't have the slightest experience, so let's learn together."

"You're going to have to Be patient with me” you laughed

“and you with me” when he separated, he took the test again

“So there are 2 babies huh”

“Why would they be!?”

“Two lines”

“Johnny that means positive, that is, there is a baby, the amount is discovered in an examination with a doctor, and a device” he seemed to understand, but you were confused and you took your phone

"What are you doing?"

“I don't remember if 2 lines is positive or negative” he laughed until he cried

“Yes we will definitely have a lot of fun”

[inahc3]

I was hoping it would take me about a month to recover from moving, this time - as opposed to the three months it took last year. In a way, I was not entirely wrong - my body had recovered enough before the end of May that simply standing up didn't make my legs try to cramp. And yet, here I am in late June, finally admitting to myself that the odds of writing before July are slim, and yet not being entirely sure how I got here.

At first, it was the chores. Things postponed until after moving, like address changes that couldn't be scheduled in advance. Things related to the new place, like learning to use the appliances. Minor surprise issues, like having to buy shower curtain rods.

Then the urgent chores were handled, and I did my best to space out the others - I'd much prefer to hyperfocus on getting all the house things done, but that way lies burnout and frustration (ok I did actually have a burnout week too, that sucked), and besides, I'm sure new house things will pop up on a regular basis now that we don't have a landlord to call about them.

My RL social life took off too, and that was a fun kind of exhaustion. While that was going on, I decided I'd rather fill my head with appliance manuals during the week, figure out their quirks (like how the dishwasher delay function gets weird if you open the door), and *then* dump all that knowledge into my reminder app before filling my head with WIPs and plot instead.

I think I procrastinated a little after that was done - or maybe I had too many appointments. my memory is foggy and my notes are cryptic. I did at least have some stuff fizzing in the back of my head still, and one sleepless night I figured out a solution to my biggest plot hole.

The weekend after our housewarming party, I was determined to get back on that horse. I got all my notes out, flung some documents onto the shiny new TV, and filled my brain with plot again. Sorted out all the things that needed deciding about the plot of part 1, how the plot hole solution affected them, which scenes were most urgent to write in case they jumped the tracks and changed things - I was all set to spend Sunday Actually Fucking Writing, with my notes all around me to help get back into things.

Then Sunday came with an opportunity to do things I'm normally not well enough to do, and I decided that was worth postponing the writing just a little bit. Surely I could do it in the afternoon. Or on Monday, at worst. I even brought my laptop along in the hopes that I'd have writing time while I was out.

I ended up doing pain management instead of writing, and then being so exhausted I made the very stupid decision to read Just One Chapter of a fic someone had recommended. It was a good fic (dustverse), and I can never have just one, and then it was 6am and I was deep into both spoon debt *and* sleep deprivation. 🤦 So I resigned myself to a few days of recovery. I recovered, made plans to pick up the writing again on the weekend - and promptly got sick instead. 🤦 Ugh. I can't write while sick even when I have something to continue, let alone when I haven't touched my fic in so long anxiety thinks writing is an existential threat. ���

So here I am, beginning to recover - the good news is I think I'll be well enough to travel for an important medical appointment, the bad news is I need to save all my spoons for that and not take risks, plus my brain is full of Things To Pack (which I have not properly written down, FML) with no room for Things To Write. And I know I won't write shit while I'm away, and there'll be a pile of postponed chores waiting for me when I get back.

I'm gonna need a solid day of Only Writing to push through the anxiety, and it's gonna suck so much, and I don't actually think I'll have room in my schedule until July. 😭 And I can't even afford to have strong feelings about it right now - gotta stay relaxed and give my immune system all the spoons that aren't spent on packing.

NGL, it's times like these that make it tempting to throw in the towel and leave the writing to people who don't have to fight their own brain over every goddamn word. But this story really, really wants to be written. So I think I'll keep trying. At least until part 1 is complete and I get the ineffable idiots talking again.

I got a really nice comment on it a while back, too, so my beta readers and I aren't the only people looking forward to more chapters. :) :) although at this point, I think it makes more sense to sketch out the remaining scenes and have several mostly-written chapters to edit, to be sure all the plot threads come together well enough, instead of going mostly chapter by chapter like I have before. So even once I get writing again, posting could take a while. Slow and steady wins the race, I guess?

[umichenginabroad]

Week 2: Living it up in Amsterdam!

Time feels like it’s going by so quickly, as it’s already the end of the second week in Berlin. This week introduced the technical lab course, which for me is my robotic programming lab course. I haven’t had a great deal of robotic programming, and as everyone was introducing themselves during the first class, it seemed that the consensus was that a lot of people were pretty new. So it could be said that I was more than a little shocked to be doing partial derivatives and working with differential equations on the first day. Anyways, it actually wasn’t too bad as it made everyone work collectively and made time go by much faster as we were so laser-focused on finishing our tasks.

On Tuesday, we went on a fun brewery tour of the brewery on the VLB campus. You see, all the beer that was being produced was for research and scientific purposes. The brewery was experimenting with different techniques and recipes for different kinds of beer. We got to see the station where the barley is first broken down into malt, then where the yeast is added, and finally where the beer is dispensed. As an added bonus, we even got to try some!

Prior to the weekend, around Monday or so, 7 of my friends and I planned a weekend trip over to Amsterdam. We were to leave right after class on Friday and get there at around 1:00 am on Saturday and return back to Berlin at around 8:30 on Sunday night. I packed my stuff at around 5:45 am Friday morning because I’m just an all-round excellent procrastinator. 

The entire Amsterdam journey was an absolutely crazy one, but quite a memorable one. For starters, we missed one of our trains and had to race the train via taxi. One of our trains was heavily delayed, which caused us to miss our ensuing transfer train. As I was the only person who somewhat knew how to speak German, I was forced to put my minuscule vocabulary to use when I had to communicate to the information help desk and taxi driver that our train had been delayed and now needed a taxi service. We eventually were able to get a taxi service to the next stop, and thanks to the driver, just barely made it before the train, and the trip continued to proceed as normal. I thought that it was crazy that we had just happened to have one German speaker with us on this trip and for it to be actually a pivotal moment in the trip.  

As soon as we arrived, we headed to the Airbnb and just chilled out until everyone went to bed. The following morning we decided to go sightseeing and check out any potential museums or other tourist attractions that we wanted to hit up. We eventually settled on splitting up between sightseeing and visiting an electronic music museum.

I went with the group to the museum and as we were walking there, we were met with absolute torrential downpour. Since we had to make our time slot, we trudged through the rain to the museum, arriving on-time looking like we had swam through the waterways to get there. In the electronic music museum, we got to learn about the history of House music and see priceless artifacts like Marshmello’s helmet and Avicii’s keyboard. To top it all off, we even got to experience their own little DJ-mashup of some of the most iconic songs. 

That night, we met up with some other University of Michigan students who were traveling through Europe, and we decided that since it was one of their birthdays, to go out that night in celebration, seeing as he was turning 21. We walked around Amsterdam at night, appreciating the beautiful views of the city at night and basking in the nighttime culture of the city. Even though it was late at night, there were still streets packed with people having a good night out in pubs and bars. We walked around for about an hour, then attended a music festival. Now, this is where the night really starts to get interesting. 

When we arrived, we were really excited and were in high spirits. Then someone from our group got kicked out. We didn’t really know why and after clearing up the confusion, they were let back in. We then spent the next couple hours dancing and chilling around, eventually leaving at around 3:00 am. As we were all pretty hungry at the time, we decided to hit up this one street full of fast food shops until around 4:00 am. However, as we were walking there, another person lost their wallet. We spent about 30-45 minutes looking for that wallet until somehow, by the grace of God, we found it next to a curb untouched. It was a pure stroke of luck that we had found it and even more lucky that it was left untouched. Seeing as how the universe was so unfairly lucky to us, it decided that it was time to reverse the tables. As we were walking to get food, I saw that we were running behind and needed to get moving if we were to get there before everything closed. I started sprinting and turned around to tell my friends behind me that we need to get going. As I turn back around however, I see a bike coming straight for me and BAM, it slams right into me. Luckily, no one was seriously hurt and I was able to walk away from it with minor bruises and swelling. However, this experience was extremely scary and I am extremely grateful that things did not end differently. At last, we were able to get food right around 4:00 am and eventually headed back and called it a night. 

Sunday was our final day in Amsterdam and seeing as how our train back to Berlin left at 2:15, we could only do some light shopping in some of the shopping streets before we ended up heading over to the train station and heading back to Berlin. Overall, it was an extremely fun trip and well worth it. Even though we had some scary moments, we cherished the short time that we spent and left extremely satisfied with the experience.

This will no doubt go down as one of the most fun trips that I’ve had in recent years and definitely the most crazy and unpredictable trip ever.

That’s all for this week, see you guys next week!

Dervin Tian

Data Science

Engineering Laboratory Experience at TUB in Berlin, Germany

[rainbowfey]

Day 7: Porch Swing

@flufftober

Tobirama glanced at the window and nodded satisfied when he saw that the sky was light gray but not covered in rain clouds like the past couple of days. It was one of his rare slow days and he finally found the time to do stuff that he had delayed doing for weeks and even months now. The enormous light brown package in the corner of his living room was a glaring reminder of his procrastination and Hashirama didn’t fail to remind him of it every time he came over. Tobirama carefully moved his shoulder blade that he had injured in a fight a couple of days ago but this time, he didn’t even flinch. That meant that the wound had healed enough to start moving his shoulder again. At least that’s what he decided. He had spent the past days resting as much as he could but it turned out that this was not one of his many skills.

With a groan, he picked the giant package up and conveniently ignored the pain flaring up in his shoulder. Panting, he dragged the heavy package through his hallway. The door turned out to be an even bigger obstacle than he thought. In the end, he settled on opening the door, pushing the package – which was as tall as he was – in the doorway and then slipping through the small gap between package and door. Afterwards, he tugged and pulled at the package until it came free. He flinched as the door fell shut behind him and his man-sized companion. He stared at the door for a moment, then he shrugged and dragged the light brown package fully onto his porch. The wooden slats creaked below his feet and for a second, he gave way to the irrational fear of breaking through the floor. Then he snapped back to his light brown reality and gave the package a nudge. After he had positioned it, he carefully let it sink down until it laid flat on his porch.

With a relieved sigh, he pulled a kunai out of his pocket. Groaning, he knelt down next to the package and slit it open. He pulled the lid off confidently – and slumped down when he saw the hodgepodge of brown and silver parts that followed no apparent order. Increasingly desperate, he searched through the components but he didn’t find the oh so simple manual anywhere that Hashirama had praised so much.

“It’s super easy to assemble,” Hashirama had said with a bright smile. “You just have to follow the instructions in the manual and you’ll have it set up in no time.”

“Super easy,” Tobirama parroted him in a rather disparaging tone. “Set up in no time!”

He shook his head and groaned. Hashirama was one of the best people he knew – but also one of the few who could infuriate him to a point where he wanted to tear his hair out. He sat back and stared at the pile of parts that didn’t even resemble what they were supposed to be when set up. The manual-free box grinned back at him.

It took Tobirama a while to gather enough willpower to get up and start assembling the different parts. At least that’s what he attempted but even after an hour of intense trying his effort didn’t remotely come close to the desired result. With a deep sigh, he let himself sink down next to the monstrosity he had created. He leaned against the wall behind him and shut his eyes.

“Having trouble, little Senju?”

Tobirama’s eyes flew open at the sound of the familiar voice. He could see the amusement in Madara’s black eyes when he examined the ravel of poles, ropes and fabric looming over Tobirama.

“Need a hand?” Madara asked but before Tobirama even got the chance to reply, Madara had already climbed the two steps leading up to his porch. He curiously walked around the monstrosity. When he finally came to a halt, he furrowed an eyebrow and stared at Tobirama. “So, what’s this supposed to be?”

Tobirama sighed and closed his eyes again. “A porch swing. Hashirama gifted it to me.”

“Looks more like failure to me,” Madara said under his breath.

Tobirama opened his eyes and grimaced at Madara’s words. “I can hear you, you know?”

Madara shrugged and gave him an indifferent look. “If the shoe fits …” he muttered. “Let’s see, this big thing right here should be the lying surface. And this other one might be the backrest.”

Tobirama got up with a groan and shot Madara an indignant look. “I figured as much, genius. Will you tell me next that the ropes might be the suspension?”

Madara didn’t even bat an eye at his sarcastic question. “Since you don’t seem to be making any progress yourself, you better not have a big mouth.”

With a pensive expression on his face, he grabbed the ravel at two opposing parts and before Tobirama could even register what he was doing, he matched two components. “Hold this,” Madara ordered him and since Tobirama didn’t have anything better to do, he followed his commands. And before his astonished eyes, the porch swing started to take shape.

After half an hour, Madara stepped back, clapped his hands and gave Tobirama a triumphant stare. He pointed to the beautifully assembled porch swing that gently moved in the breeze. “What did I tell you? This wasn’t even hard. You should do better than failing even the easiest project.”

Tobirama cursed under his breath but since Madara had indeed saved his ass, he refrained from hurling insults at him. “Thanks,” he growled instead and tried to force a grateful expression on his face.

Madara eyed him for a moment before he said in a snippy tone, “You look like you have constipation. Why don’t you stop pretending and go grab some drinks?”

Fuming, Tobirama stomped inside and towards his kitchen, leaving Madara standing on the porch. From the corner of his eye, he could see the taunting smile on Madara’s face before the door blocked his view.

When he came back outside carrying two drinks, Madara had positioned the big cushion on the porch swing – and he had already taken a seat, looking at Tobirama expectantly. Tobirama stopped dead in his tracks and stared at him. “What’s that about?” he asked incredulously.

Madara raised an eyebrow and took one of the drinks out of Tobirama’s motionless hand. “Isn’t that obvious? This is the reward for my help.”

Tobirama stared at him blankly. “So, you just decided to invite yourself to stay?”

 Madara nodded confidently and took a sip of the sake. “Exactly”, he said and leaned back, the porch swing below him following his movement softly. He gave Tobirama an asking look. “Are you going to take a seat or do you plan on just standing there?”

For a split second, Tobirama worked out the probability of him being able to usher Madara out but then he gave in with a sigh of defeat. With a helpless shrug, he sat down next to Madara, carefully minding the distance between them. To his dismay it turned out that the porch swing was comfortable and big enough – for one person. It most definitely wasn’t meant for two grown men though and he couldn’t help sliding a bit closer to Madara who seemed entirely unfazed by it. Unimpressed as always, Madara took another sip from his sake and nodded slightly. “I knew you had good taste as well.” Tobirama turned to face him and flinched when the sudden movement made him slip even closer to Madara. “As well?” he asked, slightly distracted by his clandestine attempts of keeping his distance.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Madara eyeing him a little vexed. “I’m talking about myself, of course. I have good taste.” He paused and scrunched up his nose. “Why are you so restless? It’s driving me nuts.”

Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed Tobirama’s shoulder and pushed him against the backrest. “Just relax,” he said in annoyed tone before he leaned back as well, their shoulders now touching.

For a moment, Tobirama stayed stiff like a board but when Madara reassumed drinking his sake and mostly ignoring him, he slowly relaxed.

It’s no biggie, that’s what people do nowadays, he told himself but even his inner voice sounded less than convincing. He tried to ignore the weird feeling in his stomach and because he didn’t have any better idea, he took a big gulp of his sake. He had to stifle a cough when the alcohol burned in his throat and even though Madara gave him an amused look, he kept quiet for once. And while they peacefully sat next to each other, the porch swing moving softly beneath them, Tobirama noticed that Madara’s warmth next to him did indeed feel quite nice.

[iceddecafcaramel]

02/22/2024

I'm confused because I've never been in this situation before - a situation where I know why someone isn't "the one" for me and that I definitely know I should end things. But when and how? When is the right time to end things with someone that things are going okay with? I always thought that if I gave my relationships a chance and worked hard to make them successful, it would. But it never has. And I need to learn that lesson soon.

It's crazy how I used to never see a flaw in him. But ever since that car ride, I've started to see them more and more. The way he had the audacity to lecture me about drunk driving when he put my life in danger when he had road rage while I was in his car. The way he wants to shove all the sad or heavy emotions under the rug and pretend everything is all good. The way he wants to live a delusional life. The way he called her a 9 right after he called me an 8. The way he got offended because he was embarrassed because of me pointing out that his joke didn't make any sense. The way he procrastinates so much and is so forgiving and makes excuses for himself. The way he can't bring up hard conversations. The way he is so privileged because everything was handed to him on a silver platter.

I am better than this. I deserve so much more. This is a pebble in my shoe. But I still know that if I end things, one of these days, I'm going to be sad again and have all the "what if" thoughts. What if he doesn't suffer more than me in the breakup? What if he finds someone better? What if I can't get over him? But I know I'm just delaying the inevitable. I just wish that these things didn't hurt as bad but they always do. I think it's because I care about others so much. But if this happened to my friend, I would have made them end things by now. No matter how compatible we are in sex. No matter how much holding hands with someone feels good.

I also think I'm scared to be alone. When he was overseas, all I wanted was to download a dating app and start finding someone new. I want to be in love. I deserve it too, but am I only rushing because I don't want to be alone?

I just want someone who reciprocates my feelings for them to me. Someone I can giggle with and laugh til I snort all the time. Someone who will hold me and support me at my worst. Someone who will look at me like nothing else in the world matters. Someone who will put me first and not doubt their feelings for me. I hope my reader was right and that I find a great person in April. I'm so tired of trying to make things work with people who don't deserve it.

[writer-in-theory]

spencer reid to the produce department — spencer reid

request: something hurt/comfort involving autistic spencer? (reader could also be autistic or not, up to you) summary: you and spencer ‘battle’ over who has to brave the grocery store, and may find it’s easier to tackle as a team. pairing: autistic!spencer reid x gn!autistic!reader category: hurt/comfort content warnings: brief descriptions of sensory overstimulation, brief mentions of panic word count: 1.1k a/n: i just wanted to note that this is based on my personal experience with autism and particularly sensory sensitivity.

summer of fics masterlist masterlistwant to join my taglist?

You were dreading it all day. From the moment you got to work to when your boss reminded you it was time to go, you were intent on procrastinating. Maybe if you could stay later, then you wouldn’t have to go. You wouldn’t have to do the one thing that you dreaded each and every week.

Grocery day.

It wasn’t even that it was tedious work (which it was). It was more that the thought of being around so many people, with all the bright lights and constant noises, was completely exhausting. You could already feel the panic creep up your throat at the thought of it alone.

But it was the end of the day, and you were walking through your apartment door and there was nothing left to do but grab your grocery bags and go.

“How was your day, Y/N?” Spencer asked as soon as he noticed you come through the apartment. He’d gotten home not long before you, clearly, as he was still wrestling to get his Converse off.

“Tiring,” you admitted. “I know it’s my turn but I really don’t want to go to the store.”

Immediately Spencer shuttered, shoulders tense and eyes averting yours at your statement. It was clear what you meant—you wanted him to go instead. “I went last week,” he complained, “it’s so loud and bright there.”

“I know, I know,” you sighed, already knowing you wouldn’t try to force your boyfriend to go in your stead. After all, he often struggled with the same kinds of sensory overstimulation in places like that. You and he often complained together that it would be so much better if they could have a more accessible hour of the day where the lights were dimmed and some of the machines were either silenced or the volume was reduced. That wasn’t the case at any of your local grocery stores, however, leaving the two of you to have this conversation each and every week about who would have to brave going there for the needed supplies. 

“Okay, what if we stopped trying to do this alone?” you suggested then. “Maybe it would be better if we went together?”

“That could be a lot better,” Spencer admitted, “we could try it.”

It was a lot ride to the store, both of you deciding it would be best to delay just a little longer. Still, eventually, the car pulled into the parking lot and the two of you sat in uncomfortable silence within it, waiting.

“It’ll be okay,” you told him, reaching out for his hand and smiling when he took yours. He squeezed your hand once, twice, before he sighed and nodded.

“Let’s do this,” Spencer told you with complete resolve in his voice, practically jumping out of the parked car before he could rethink it.

The two of you walked into the store together, both of you holding onto a basket rather than dealing with the carts that had impossibly loud squeaky wheels. You took the lead at first, beginning to pick up some of the fruits and veggies that you knew he liked too. It had been difficult at first to figure out what meals you could make together that would appease both of your texture issues, but over time it became easier.

It was nice to have someone who understood, who you didn’t have to extensively explain your picky eating to because he already knew. There were a lot of things you didn’t have to explain to Spencer because he had similar thoughts about certain situations. Your behaviors weren’t exact, they never would be, but you and he understood each other in a way you didn’t relate to many people with.

“Hey, Spencer,” you spoke up gently when, halfway through the store, you noticed his hands were shaking more than usual and his eyes were looking a bit wild around the aisle. “Is it the lights? The noise?”

“There’s a lot of people,” he told you, hand reaching out for yours to hold onto. The grip was a little tighter than you might have liked but if that was what he needed to ground himself then you would allow it for the moment.

“I know, I know. Are you okay to keep going, or do you need a break? It’s okay if you go out to the car, I can finish up.” You wouldn’t love continuing through the store but you also were doing a little better today with it than Spencer was. You could do it if he needed to rest, to get away from all the people who tried to make small talk here. 

“I’m okay,” Spencer reassured you, “let’s finish this together, okay?” So you did. And maybe you did a bit more of the heavy lifting in picking out the food items the two of you would need, but Spencer remained right there beside you the whole time. And in brief moments when you needed comfort, Spencer was right there for you the same way you had been for him. 

So by the time the cashier handed you the receipt and the two of you made your way out of the grocery store, you couldn’t help but cheer. 

“We did it!” you laughed, dancing a little at the thought of how much easier that had been with another person beside you.

It would never be easy in the way it was for some others, and there would always be days where you couldn’t quite manage to do it. But sharing this moment with Spencer was everything. 

“We should do this together from now on, it was better,” Spencer added as the pair of you placed your bags into the car and pulled away from the lot.

“Well, we make a good team,” you answered softly, sneaking a glance and a smile at him before focusing back on the road.

“That we do,” Spencer agreed, “we always do.”

And maybe grocery store trips would still be your least favorite part of the week, and maybe you’d still try to procrastinate them by working a little harder, but being able to lean on Spencer would always make it better if it couldn’t be perfect.

And maybe, just maybe, you won’t always completely dread grocery trips if it meant more time with Spencer.

GENERAL TAGLIST

@samuel-de-champagne-problems @silverhetdanes @ssawonderland @reidsbookclub @katymarie @mrsobrien888 @writingquillsandpainpills @fightingdragonswithreid @lil-stark @raythefaye @stillsleepynat @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @givemeth @foxy-eva @lilibet261 @exhaleli @darkeunology @nomajdetective @meggie-m00n @delicatespencer @serenity-lattes @goldentournesol @rexorangecouny @sultrypotter @reliefplease @mente-sindescanso @jj76889 @luna-novae @folkreid @nightmarewasteland @luredwithpretzels

ONESHOT TAGLIST

@natashxromanovfreads @nano-noa

[lovingleehaechan]

I adore you. - Jung Jaehyun (Part III)

genre: fluff, angst(?)

word count: 1.6k

warnings: i honestly don’t remember anymore :(

a/n: i’ve been recently dabbling again with writing so this is just me filling in a few bits, please enjoyy and hold on a little longer! their story is only beginning hehehe 

with all my love, summer x

It’s been a long day for Jaehyun, too long for it to just be called one day. 

His mom was constantly at him during the morning, asking how college had been and what it’s been like living alone without them. The usual stuff mom’s normally ask when they haven’t spoken with their child for too long. Even though all she wanted to do was make sure that he was eating and getting on fine on his own she couldn’t help but be worried. He was her child, her baby after all. 

Jaehyun answered all her questions with patience but the longer it went on, the longer he felt as if he was being dragged over the floor. Don’t get it twisted, he loves his mom so much but some days when he felt more down than usual talking to her seemed more like a chore. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful either, she always made sure he had enough side dishes in his fridge to keep him going for the next two weeks until his next visit home or her next visit to his apartment. Jaehyun wanted the phone call to end quicker than usual but it seemed as if she had so many questions to ask him, as if they haven’t talked in a while. It was unusual to say the least, he always sent her a text in between the days or if he’s reminded of her or their family. 

He asked her if there was anything happening in the family but it seemed as though she dodged the question, almost pretending as if the question was never asked. As soon as his mom did that, he just knew he had to visit the coming weekend. It cannot be delayed if his mom was behaving this way. Something was going on, he was just out of the loop. He finally had enough and ended the phone call informing her that he was visiting this weekend. She was caught off guard but she agreed nonetheless. 

He didn’t know whether or not to be worried about the phone call. It was quite unusual of her to behave in that way. Despite his insides bothering him, he tried his best to distract himself. So that’s where y/n came in. He sends a text your way, “are you busy?” he asked.

“Not really, just mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, nothing new,” you text. “What’s up?” 

“Just not in the mood to be at home, wanna go for a picnic?” he suggested. 

He knew you wouldn’t say no, you couldn’t resist the thought of just being outside with nature. You would probably bring a book and your speakers. Jaehyun would take care of the rest. 

“You got me at ‘not wanting to be at home’, I’ll be ready in two hours? Is that enough time for you?” y/n replied.

“That’s perfect, you don’t need to bring anything okay? I’ll have everything sorted. Text you if I finish earlier than expected.” Jaehyun answered. 

“Okie dokie, I’ll be here.” 

His heart skipped. With those mere words, you’d already made him a fumbling mess. Can you imagine what you would do to him if you were his? 

If only that was the case. 

Jaehyun quickly shook his head, as if he could get rid of his thoughts that quickly. A loud sigh escaped his lips as he got up from his comfortable seat. He should get ready before the sun sets. You both loved to watch it. The sun setting was one of those things that could help you think you can start over again, like if you failed an exam or when small things build up into a big, disgusting pile that you don’t even want to go near at, it helps you gather those thoughts and make you realize that you can do it. Just don’t procrastinate. 

While he created a mental list in his head, he repeated the things he needed on a loop. From the basic things like blankets, to snacks and little post-its and pens- you know, just in case you were inspired to write something. You always had a knack for coming up with things on your spontaneous adventures, even just as simple as a picnic. Jaehyun knew you, but every time he thought he did, you always did something unexpected. As if you suddenly convince yourself “oh, I’ve been wanting to do that, fuck it”. 

Before his head went into a spiral, he physically shook his head and gathered the items in question and packed them in the car. He smiled slightly at the thought of spending this time with you. Who knew he would end up falling for his best friend? 

Apparently, he was the one who was convinced he would never fall in love with you. Well because, you were you and Jaehyun was Jaehyun. 

What a great reason for not to fall in love with someone right? Just because they’re them, you couldn’t or- you wouldn’t. Funny how life comes around in a full circle. 

Jaehyun sent you a message to say that he was on his way before driving towards your apartment. 

You came out of the front door just as soon as he arrived by your complex. He peeked his head slightly, you were wearing those favourite joggers he loved on you. The simple black one with the white strip on the side plastered with the brand name. They hugged your legs so well, he knew you were comfortable in them and it made you that bit extra ‘quirky’. 

Jaehyun unlocked the door, not saying a word. He smiled at you as you sat by the passenger side. You nodded in acknowledgement and smiled in return. 

The silence remained but the atmosphere was comforting. He drove you both to your spot. 

                          ____________________________________

Y/n helped Jaehyun take stuff out from the back. You were surprised how much he prepared in such a short amount of time. It really made you think about things a little. Here was your best friend doing these things a boyfriend normally would. Could your boyfriend do the same thing? The same things as Jaehyun does. Or say the things he knows would comfort your uneasy heart.

With a sigh, you settled yourself on the blanket, placing another around your shoulders. 

“You okay?” he asked.

“Just thinking, you know.” you replied.

“Like what?” curious. 

“Like just how I feel. The things I’m doing, are they the right thing? Could I be doing something else right now that would make me feel like it’s worthwhile?” 

He laughed slightly.

“Same,” he began and paused.

“Is that really all you could tell me, Jung Jaehyun? Same?” you exclaimed. 

This time he heartily laughed at your reaction. 

“Can you chill for a sec,” he giggled, “you didn’t give me enough time to say the rest of it.” 

You made a guilty face and gestured for him to go on. 

“I guess it’s a normal thing to think about when you come to this point though, no? We’re still young, we still have time to make some mistakes. Of course we won’t get everything right but that’s part of life.” 

“I guess so. It’s hard to follow that kind of advice. I tell myself the same thing but no matter how much I try and drill it in my head, it doesn’t stick.” you said.

“It’s as if I just refuse to listen even though I know it’ll ease my worries. Maybe I need someone to calm me down in person too, rather than being said all the time to me- or texted.” 

He nodded, urging you to continue. 

“Things like this, you know? A simple sunset picnic. It doesn’t even have to be this prepared. Some blankets and a pack of crisps and water would do. Just knowing that you’re here with me and going through the motions with me is enough. It helps things make sense again.” 

Jaehyun was speechless. 

So he was doing the right things, why couldn’t you see it? He would never do this for anyone else but you. There are many girls who give him their number, or people telling him that one lady from another course is interested in getting to know him. But no, his eyes were on you and only you. It was one of the few things that made sense in his world. 

“You’re more of an acts of service type of person then. Right?” he questioned, trying to keep the atmosphere a little light.

“Probably- oh and quality time. It makes sense if it was those two.” you attempted to do the math, and after a few seconds, you nodded, answering your own question.

From then, the conversation continued until the sky was pink. From then, you and Jaehyun knew it was time for silence. Time and space to think deeply. 

You quickly settle your head on his lap. He didn’t seem to mind, you thought. 

Your eyes focused on the pastel colours in the sky. You attempted to make shapes of the clouds, then moved on to count how many birds flew by until your eyes became tired. 

Jaehyun saw you close your eyes gently. He sighed again for the nth time that day. 

“How can someone be as beautiful as you and not see it?” he asked, looking at you. 

“How is your mind as complicated as it is when things clearly work out in the end if you just be a little more patient with yourself?” thinking aloud again. 

“How are you not able to see that things like this,” he looked around the vicinity and then you, “are for you. I do them for you because-” he hesitated, “I love you.” 

He whispered the last three words. Afraid he’ll wake you up. 

Little did he know, you were awake from the very first question he asked out loud. 

[myhoneststudyblr]

every single student in the world has likely procrastinated at some point - i know i definitely have! sometimes i think it can be quite helpful because means that you don't spend every minute of every day studying... but on the other hand, it can become very hard to beat. there are so many advice posts in the community on this topic but i thought that i would share my own tips! 

disclaimer: everyone studies differently and these are my personal tips. they may not work for you but they can be a good starting point 

What is Procrastination?

i found this little summary of procrastinating on the internet and thought it completely covered everything that i wanted to say on this point:

Procrastination is the habit of delaying an important task, usually by focusing on less urgent, more enjoyable, and easier activities instead. It is different from laziness, which is the unwillingness to act.

Procrastination can restrict your potential and undermine your career. It can also disrupt teamwork, reduce morale, and even lead to depression and job loss. So, it's crucial to take proactive steps to prevent it.

The first step to overcoming procrastination is to recognize that you're doing it. Then, identify the reasons behind your behavior and use appropriate strategies to manage and overcome it.

- How to Stop Procrastinating by Mindtools

so what is learnt from this is that:

procrastination is not being lazy 

it is avoiding tasks by doing other easier tasks

it can have negative effects

you need to proactively take steps to avoid it 

first, recognise the procrastinating then use strategies to break the cycle

Conventional Tips

these are the basic tips that are some of the most well-known strategies for ending procrastination and can be some of the most important steps!

1. get organised. tidy up your desk to study space because there is nothing worse than having to work in a place that is chaotic and mess. collect the information you need for the task, for example, notes you've made or a textbook. 

2. to-do lists are your friend. a lot of people (including me) really struggle with timetables for studying because it can seem really structured and there is no flexibility or real allowance for things that may crop up during the day (your food takes longer to cook, you have to unexpectedly do a task around the house, you get a really bad headache and need to take a break). in my opinion, to-do lists help solve this problem! you can clearly see the tasks that you want to get done for the day but you don't have stressful time constraints. personally, i always use todoist to keep track of everything. to-do lists also make it easier to break tasks down

3. break the task down. one of the biggest cause of procrastination is having a huge task or project ahead of you because it seems really daunting and where on earth are you even going to start? so break it down *completely*. in your to-do list, don't just write ‘german homework’, write down even task that you need to do within it and be specific: for example ‘pg. 11 ex 4a, 4b and 4c’, ‘textbook listening task on pg. 47′ and ‘250-word essay on social media in Germany’. breaking it down makes the tasks seem more attainable and when you’ve done one and you can cross it off your list, it gives you a boost to keep going

4. eliminate distractions. this is a big one. even if you do all of the above, if you are constantly being distracted by things, you aren't going to get much done. try to find a place that is quiet enough that you can focus and you feel comfortable studying in. as well as this you need to think about what to do with your phone as the likelihood is that this will be the most distracting thing. you can simply turn it off, put on do not disturb, leave it in another room or use and app like forest (that last one is what i use and i don't know where i would be without it!)

5. use incentives. finishing a task is an achievement so treat it like one! before you study, decide on something that you will give yourself as a reward for doing it. this may be watching that new episode of your favourite programme or a tasty snack! 

6. set timers. don't just launch yourself into a task, because that again can make it seem daunting and feel unending. rather, set a timer for a specific time because you’ll know that you just need to focus for that specific length of time and then you can go take a break and do something nice. for timing your study sessions, you could use the Pomodoro technique 

7. allow for breaks (but try to avoid long ones). you are not a machine and as much as it would be great to be able to, you cant study for hours on end without giving your mind a break from focusing. so schedule in break time for yourself, particularly for times that you know your motivation dips, and do something nice. but be very careful that you don't accidentally slip back into procrastinating habits and keep breaks short. unless you are very disciplined it is unlikely that an hour-long break will stay just an hour.

8. know how you study but don’t be afraid to mix it up. everyone studies differently and so there are going to be some study methods that work better for some than others. so try to make sure that you are studying smart and that you aren't wasting your own time cause that can be incredibly unmotivating. HOWEVER, if there is anything that I’ve learnt from online school its that doing the same task all the time, every day is mind-numbingly boring and you just want to do anything else. so try to switch up what you are doing. if you usually just type notes from the textbook, maybe try doing it in a mindmap one week, or on flashcards, maybe do some practise questions to keep your mind engaged. 

9. play music. now this one really depends on the person and how you study. some people need absolute silence and that is fine, but others need something to fill the silence or maybe cover up background noise (for example if you live in a busy household). try to pick music however that is not going to distract you - the key tips for this is to pick music without lyrics. this can be classical music, video game music, or general ‘chill’ music (there are so many playlists out there for chill studying music). i personally listen to Francesco Parrino religiously while studying because he does piano covers of pop songs, so i know the songs and enjoy them but there are no lyrics that can distract me 

10. stay hydrated, well-rested and not hungry. this is part of eliminating distractions because if you are thirsty, you are going to be thinking about how you want a drink; if you are tired, you are going to be thinking about how tired you are; if you are hungry, you are going to be thinking about what you want for lunch or whatever. make sure you are hydrated, well-rested and not hungry so you can focus solely on your task or work.

Unconventional Tips

these are some slightly more unusual tips that you might not have seen before but that I've nevertheless found very useful!

1. video yourself or do a timelapse. this is something that I’ve only recently done because i saw a tip on this from someone during my quarantine challenge and thought that it would be cool to do. and it really works! i did it twice once when i was typing notes and a second time when i was handwriting notes and it really made me focus on what is as doing because the video put some pressure on me to look like i was properly studying - i could take a 5-minute break in the middle of my work to mess around with my pen, I just had to keep going so it really forces you to do the work. also watching the video when i was done made me really proud cause i had visual proof of how much i completed!

2. accept that some days you are going to get very little done. this may seem a little bit odd to put on a post that is meant to avoid getting nothing done but it’s actually a very important thing to remember. sometimes you need to take days off because otherwise you are going to burnout and some days you are just not going to be in the right mindset for studying because maybe you are exhausted after a big exam, or you have a headache or you feel unwell. you just need to accept it, draw a line under it, take time for yourself, and resolve yourself to work tomorrow once you feel a bit better. there is no shame in taking time to make sure you stay healthy. if you can, try to get your quickest, easiest task done so you have some sense of accomplishment.

3. ‘churn it out and f**k off’. this was my mum’s motto when she was studying and working in academia. and she recently told it to me when i was getting stressed about all the big tasks during online school. i am a perfectionist and i always want to hand in my very best work, put 100% into everything, but honestly that is impossible. some days you just need to get stuff done and if that isn't your very best then it doesn't matter too much because at least you got it done. and once you get it done you can just forget about it.

4. ask a friend or parent to check up on you. when you are studying by yourself it can be hard to motivate yourself because you know that no ones actually going to check whether you made those votes or did the reading, so ask a friend or someone you live with to check whether you've done the work or get them to read essays. you then get an external reason to study or do your tasks because you need to show them something.

5. rephrase how you think of tasks. when you think that ‘you need to do this task’ or ‘you have to get this done’, a lot of the time this causes unneeded stress and anxiety that is not going to help you at all. also it makes it seem like you are being forced to do something and human beings generally don't act great when they are forced to do something. so try to change your language when thinking about task into one that is more forgiving such as ‘i choose to do this project so that i can go meet my friends tomorrow’ and ‘i choose to read this book now because it will help me in the lecture next week’. this is probably the most difficult strategy on this list and it will take a lot of practice (i am certainly still practising it) but in the long term, it can help you change the way in which you view studying for the better. 

✨✨✨

i hope this was helpful and that these tips will be useful, and perhaps you've discovered some new ones! if anyone has anything to add please feel free to reply or reblog with the advice <3

[levihantrash]

Priorities

For Levihan week Aug 2021 Day 2 prompt: confessions

Also based on a cute ass tumblr prompt by @sanothebreadpup <3 hope you like it!!

Summary: It’s been a while since Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long. Erwin suggested going to Levi for advice on managing prioritises. Instead, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

note: no smut but lots of spicy poetic touching

cross-posted on ao3 🤪

-----

Hange wanted to confess. It had been months since they knew that their best friend status with Levi could potentially be tweaked to include just a bit more romance, and they knew they had to be the one to take that step. As much as Levi was quick-witted on the battlefield, he wasn’t quite the risk-taker in ordinary settings. In fact, Hange figured Levi would sip tea beside them until he was greying and would probably be as content with the arrangement.

Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long.

Out-of-the-blue, though characteristically charismatic, Erwin gave the soldiers a pep-talk on how they need to know what to prioritise (i.e., humanity's victory).

Inspired, though the speech’s intended audience was clearly for new recruits, Hange tried to prioritise their tasks. Within a day, they got overwhelmed, the list being more of a reason for delay than for action. Moblit, well-meaning as always, tried to get Hange to focus on one at a time but that was unthinkable to them. One at a time meant that the confession would never happen. There was too much to research. Too much at stake. Too much for one inconsequential confession.

Unknowingly, Erwin saw Hange wringing their hands, muttering to themselves in the dining hall.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just can’t prioritise the important stuff,” Hange grumbled. Perking up at the mention of priorities, Erwin advised Hange to seek Levi’s guidance.

“Levi only does one thing at a time once he sets his heart on it.”

Eager for a chance encounter with someone they technically already hung out with on most days, Hange asked Levi for help. More accurately, in perhaps the most roundabout manner, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

“For research,” Hange said, almost convinced by their own performance.

“You can do that yourself,” Levi said reasonably.

While starting a task was horrendously difficult, Hange was not one to give up once they began on one.

“You’re the only one here who can bake.”

Eyes narrowed, arms folded, Levi was not buying the compliment. He had a pile of papers left to read. Hange’s whims could be settled by someone with more well-matched interests and time management.

“Go ask Petra.”

Hovering nearby with another paper for her captain to sign, Petra noticed Hauge's crestfallen face.

“It’s not about the baking being done but who Hange is doing the baking with,” Petra whispered, as discreetly as she could.

"I'm busy," Levi said, loud enough for Hange to hear, heedless of Petra’s input.

“Alright.” Hange sighed, internally fuming that they should’ve found a more legitimate excuse. Bluff out something like Erwin’s orders. Levi followed Erwin’s orders without question. Hange’s requests were dealt with more scepticism. Not that Hange had the best track record of requests.

In the end, Hange prepared the baking supplies, because even if titans couldn’t stomach cake, it was an experimental endeavour. Practically speaking, they could give some baked goods to the juniors. Maybe even gift some to Levi.

Stumbling into the kitchen with too many ingredients in hand, they found Levi leaning against the entrance looking positively sullen. Upon spotting Hange, his face morphed into a more acceptable, neutral expression, nodding towards them.

"I thought you were busy!"

Levi shrugged, grabbing some of the ingredients from their arms. "I was. Didn't you want to bake?"

“I guess?”

The sudden change of mind was too abrupt for Hange to wrap their head around. A hopeful glow had unfortunately begun growing in them. Levi was being exceptionally nice today. No doubt that he was usually nice. Just not will-bake-for-your-titans kind of nice.

"Erwin said that you are really good at prioritising tasks,” Hange said, slowly digging through the cabinets for the utensils.

"Huh. Let me guess—he wants you to learn from me."

Hange scratched their head absent-mindedly. "He did tell me to ask you."

"I'm not actually very good at sticking to a task,” Levi admitted, wondering where in hell Erwin got the idea that he was focused. If he were, the paperwork would have been submitted, instead of lying around, flapping aimlessly in the wind before Petra (and Oluo) offered their generous help. He refused—every time. Levi was simply good at keeping a blank face and reporting to Erwin that he needed more time, which Erwin must have mistaken as a sign of seriousness than a sign of procrastination.

“You are! You finished work before coming have, didn't you?”

Levi didn’t breathe out a word, silently pouring through the book of recipes.

"What do you want to bake?"

Hange didn’t mind his lack of response, pondering over his poor cover-up question. "Something easy. What about bread?"

"Bread isn’t easy."

Difficulties translated into the promise of adventure for Hange. Pumped up, Hange prodded at the picture of an unremarkable loaf of chocolate banana bread.

"Let's do it anyway!"

“Suit yourself.”

-----

The small touches were the ones that were hardest to ignore. Hange felt the accidental-deliberate brush of Levi’s elbow when he reached over to choose an ingredient. Other times, he guided their hand with the right amount of strength for stirring the batter. His fingers over their stirring hand were firm and reassuring.

“You’re stirring too fast,” Levi said patiently.

“You’re distracting me,” Hange replied half-heartedly.

“Oh, am I?” The fingers left Hange’s hand. Just as Hange was about to lament their moment of folly in allowing that to happen, the fingers reached out towards their face. Forcing in a breath, Hange felt Levi’s thumb rub out a chocolate stain at the side of their lip.

“How did the chocolate get there?” Levi murmured, more to himself than to them.

“I was snacking on some of the chocolate bits a while ago…” Hange said cheekily, licking the side of their lips only to realise that Levi’s thumb was still there. Their tongue brushed his finger, and in that contact, Hange was ready to collapse from self-generated sexual tension.

Though his eyes widened noticeably, Levi quickly resumed his blasé expression. Rubbing the rest of the stain out, he walked to the tap to wash his hands. There was some hesitation, before he hurriedly turned on the tap, letting the water run for two seconds over his hands before going back to his position next to Hange.

Unsure as to whether to be offended or pleased by the sight of Levi cleaning the evidence of their encounter with such carelessness, Hange busied themselves with breaking eggs and separating yolk. If it had been Levi with a finger lined with fudge, Hange would’ve licked it spotless. With permission, of course.

To pay him back in kind, Hange plotted their own routine of touch as well. The touches became bolder, starting innocently enough. From casually brushing away hair that was poking Levi’s eye, to going behind Levi who was busy slicing up bananas and placing both hands on the counter. Their arms were now on either side of him, conveniently taller than him so that their head could peer right over his shoulder. The cutting didn’t cease—it only got more rapid, the bananas becoming neat circles in a matter of seconds. Hange let out an impressed whistle, hands not leaving the counter.

“Stop distracting me.”

“Oh, am I?”

One drop of the knife, and a swift turn later, Levi found himself staring straight into Hange’s bright, beautiful, heavily eye-bagged orbs.

"Hange, do you know why I'm in the kitchen at 2am baking for some shit-brained monsters?"

“Titans don’t have—”

“Because I have priorities.” Levi interrupted, not allowing Hange to clarify what the physical anatomy of titan subjects entailed.

Hange blinked, maintaining an oblivious exterior. “Your priorities include titan research?”

“You know what I was going to say.”

“Somewhat. I want to hear you say it out loud, though.”

Grimacing, he concentrated his gaze on Hange’s collar instead. Skin flushed, collarbones peeking out mischievously. Bad idea.

“You little shit.”

Their laugh was quieter, milder than the ones they let out on other days. “My favourite little shit! So what are your priorities?”

“Wiping the blades. Cleaning the toilet. Dusting under the tables. Doing laundry. Having enough tea. Baking with a scientist who thinks—”

Hange pressed a gentle hand on his mouth. “I get it.”

“Which part do you get?” Levi asked, enjoying the fact that when he moved his lips, they grazed Hange’s palm. How would it be like to replace that hand with their mouth?

“That you like me.” Hange grinned, tugging Levi by the straps of his apron just a bit closer.

An unexpected flash of clumsiness made Levi knock down the bag of flour, spilling it onto the floor. The fall clouded up the vicinity in white dust. Gaining confidence with obscured vision, Hange held the back of Levi’s head, tracing his undercut, admiring how his immaculately combed hair had come undone. An attractively dishevelled mess. Hange was in no hurry. Yet.

Levi, in a spur of restlessness, looked up at Hange questioningly. Eyeing their faint smirk, he tilted his head sideways, watching carefully for any sign of reluctance. An impatient “are you going to kiss me or not” from Hange; a straightforward command was what he needed to hear. No time was wasted pulling Hange into an urgent, searing kiss. Backed against the counter, hands cupping Hange’s face, Levi devoured the sensation. The taste of sugar, fruit, flour, and chocolate clung onto the entwinement, as Hange breathily pressed up against him. Erwin had warned them both. Love in the military meant the threat of loss. The possibility of sorrow. As he felt the rumble of Hange’s satisfying groan beneath his lips sending an unprecedented warmth through his body, he was certain. He would have loved Hange whether he kissed them or not. Death would happen, whether or not Hange rubbed his waist in soothing, awe-inspiring strokes. Right now, he would die in absolute bliss.

To be honest, Hange would’ve been disappointed if they didn’t end up fucking, or at least, aggressively kissing eventually. Erwin’s advice was only a stronger reminder that Hange was never one to be conservative. They loved Levi, as a comrade, as a friend, as the person whom they would kill for, if it meant saving his life. Still, having Levi sneak a hand into the bareness of their back, sucking their neck with a hot tenderness that made their head spin, they knew that chastity and platonic hugging could not be the only option.

“We should’ve done this sooner,” Hange said, peeling away his jacket.

“Couldn’t tell when the right time was,” Levi said, starting on the buttons of Hange’s shirt.

The door creaked open.

“This is your idea of asking Levi for help?” Erwin said, a thick eyebrow raised as he surveyed the mess.

With some willpower, he stopped unbuttoning Hange’s shirt. Lightly pushing Hange away, Levi straightened up, less than pleased with the interruption.

“Erwin, you better have something worthwhile to say if you—”

“I’ll clean this up.” Erwin, fully recovered from his shock, was beaming.

“Huh?”

“It’s about time,” Erwin said, with the proud sincerity of an unwitting matchmaker, gesturing towards the door.

“We owe you one, Erwin!” Hange waved at him on the way out, while Levi cast him a grateful, wary glance. With his hand was secure on their back, and Hange’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, there was no care for an audience. Only the smell of baked goods and unfinished business fuelled their steps towards a private space. A place where they would end up in each other’s arms—spent, sweaty, and deliriously at peace.

[letarasstuff]

Panic, Love and Take Out

Summary: Midterms are hard on all of us, even on a genuis’ daughter

Warnings: Angst, but it’s a fluffy end, I promise 🥺, panic attack, mentions of school (lets admit, we all got  trauma from school), stress, language (I think there’s one swear word?)

Word count: 1.6k

✨Masterlist✨

_______________________________-

“When you get home, you do your calculus homework first. Then you write this essay for history. After that you have to solve the problems from your chemistry class. Wait. It would be better if I do it after calculus”, (Y/N) talks to herself on her way home.

Midterms are around the door and the teachers think giving their students 30 hours worth of homework is the best way to help them study. Sadly they don’t see that it gives them nothing but stress pimples.

“I’m home!” she calls into the apartment while hanging up her coat. Like it occurs in 90% of all cases the teenager is greeted with silence. Her father has yet to come home.

After a little snack (a granola bar and an apple from the kitchen counter) she goes up into her room starting on her homework.

It’s not like all the things she does are due tomorrow or anytime soon. (Y/N) likes to get a head start on her work. So time won’t come and bite her in the end, because she procrastinated too much.

Though this attitude is something everyone envies her for, the downsides of it are just straight up destructive.

Since the amount of assignments doesn’t seem to shrink (Y/N) is constantly worrying about it. She can’t help it. It keeps her awake at night to know what she has to do and it bugs her that she lays awake and does nothing to help the situation.

“One down, only two left”, she mutters, putting her folder for calc away. It’s nearing dinner time, but (Y/N) doesn’t even dream about taking a break.

In her hyper focused state she doesn’t notice three important things:

1. The ever increasing clicking of her ball point pen

2. Her faster shaking leg

3. The front door opening and closing

“Honey, I’m home!” Spencer shouts. The absence of an answer makes his eyebrows furrow. His daughter should be home by now. Her shoes and jacket are neatly on the rack, indicating she must be there. Whenever he announces his arrival she is there to greet him.

“Hey honey, what are you doing there?” he asks, entering her room. The doctor stands in the doorway to take the picture in:

(Y/N) is bent over several notebooks. Textbooks litter the floor and an empty mug stands out between dozens of colored pens on her desk.

“Hi dad. Just getting some homework done. How was work?” She tries to make small talk, but it’s obvious that her focus lays elsewhere.

“It was fine, just a paper work day. When did you take a break? I was thinking about ordering dinner tonight. We could try this new chinese place Morgan recommended. We also can catch up on the newest episodes of Doctor Who. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good, but I have to get this done. Maybe I can join you later” (Y/N) excuses herself.

“Are you sure? It won’t hurt you to take a little time off. Actually your brain needs breaks between every 30 and 90 minutes in between study sessions. So I advise you to take one in order to avoid frustration because of exhaustion”, Spencer tries to convince her.

But the problem is that (Y/N) is her father’s daughter and can be as stubborn and ambitious as he is.

“I know that, dad. I promise it won’t take any longer until I’m finished. Just go ahead and order and begin watching.”

Defeated, the profiler leaves her room. He knows there is nothing he can do for now except for waiting. (Y/N) needs to come to him on her own.

But if she is honest with herself, she isn’t anywhere near being done. Her chemistry work takes longer than originally thought and her whole schedule is in delay. This only adds up on her already high amount of stress. The coffee she drank earlier to stay alert and awake doesn’t help the situation either.

What feels like only minutes later, which is actually half an hour, Spencer reappears in her doorway with a box of take out in his hands.

“Hey (Y/N), the food is here. Do you wanna join me on the sofa?” He asks gingerly. As her father he knows that it won’t take much now to make her explode. But this is exactly what happens.

“No dad, I don’t want to join you. Can’t you see that I’m busy? Not everybody has an IQ of 187 and just needs to read something once and can recite it like a damn robot. Now can you leave me alone for god’s sake?!”

Throughout her angry rant (Y/N) looks at her father with rueful eyes. He always knows that her outbursts, which are extremely rare for a teenager, are never meant to hurt him. It’s just the stress getting to her.

“Ok, honey. Just keep in mind where you can find me. I Love you and don’t overwork yourself.” He quickly closes the door. Spencer stood eye to eye with the worst scum on the planet, but his angry teenage daughter never fails to scare him at least a bit. So he tries to give her all the room she needs to get a clear head again.

(Y/N) on the other hand can’t feel any worse. Not only is she super antsy and stressed, now she also feels bad going off on her dad just like this. She knows he only wants to help her and she really is grateful for that, but in situations like this it’s difficult for her to keep her calm.

As the girl continues to write her essay, she realizes her father is right. Of course she is, she herself knows all the facts and stats there are about studying. Still she chooses to ignore them until it’s too late.

The longer she tries to form coherent sentences the trickier it gets. Which only frustrates her further, which only stresses her more.

“I’m so useless. I can’t even write about a subject I’m really interested in. I’m so dumb, god it hurts,” (Y/N) mumbles to herself. She can’t stop her train of thoughts from getting darker, all the stress now catching up to her mind.

In her state she loses the grip on her pen, letting it fall on the paper and splattering little droplets of ink. Her breath begins to get uneven, unfortunately a familiar feeling for (Y/N). At least she knows what to do.

The girl scrambles into the living room, where Spencer sits on the sofa like he told her earlier.

With shaking legs and a panic filled mind she looks at him, her eyes wide open. “D-dad. I-i-i” she doesn’t need to elaborate further. Not that she would be able to.

Sadly Spencer is experienced with the situation. He is quick to put her down in a chair, pressing her head between her legs. He draws with one hand circles on her back, the other is clenched in hers.

“Shh, (Y/N). Breath we me. We go in for six seconds, hold it for seven and let it go for eight. We can do it together” the doctor instructs her.

They do it until (Y/N)’s breathing is back under her control. She straightens her back again, still holding her dad’s hand in a deadbolt grip.

“I’m so-”

“No, there’s nothing to apologize for. What about we eat dinner and after that we do something repetitive. You really like doing these friendship bracelets, don’t you? I thought about it when I was shopping a few days ago and bought thread. Maybe you can teach me?”

At that his daughter begins to smile agreeing to the plan.

Not long after this, the small family sits next to each other. Old reruns of Doctor Who play in the background. Under softly told instructions Spencer ties his first bracelet. He knows that it is something little children do, but the repetitive pattern of movements help (Y/N) to calm fully down before she crashes down in exhaustion.

Like said before, it wasn’t her first panic attack. But she gets better.

“You know, you can always talk to me. I know school is stressing you out right now. But never forget, that your health, physically and mentally, is more important than any number on a piece of paper. And I will love you forever, nothing will ever change that”, he says after a time of silence. (Y/N) sighs.

“I know. It’s just, I want to do good. I want you to be proud of me”, she confesses. It’s hard for her to open up, but now seems like the perfect moment.

“I’m already proud of you. Hell, you could paint a pile of poop golden and I would be the proudest parent out there. Your accomplishments don’t define you as a human. They don’t determine your worth or are an indicator of your skills and knowledge. I love you, no matter what you do. I will always support you. I just want you to be happy and healthy.”

“Thanks dad. I love you too. Even though you are sometimes a real pain with your ‘know it better’ attitude”, she jokes and puts her head on her father’s shoulder. He slings his arm around her shoulders, making her snuggle into him further.

So the father and daughter sit there blissfully, basking in each other’s presence.

[umichenginabroad]

Week 4: Midterms, Friends, Mallorca!

Hi everyone! Sorry this post is a little late as I had a crazy week so just had the chance to sit down and write this post.

Monday, we had our physics midterm which was open note, 10 multiple choice questions, and 10% of our grade. I scrambled in the morning to get my notes printed but figured it out just in time for our 9:00 am exam. The exam was not too difficult. After, we had a physics tutorial and then I wrote my history essay that was due at 9:00 pm. I procrastinated the essay but ended up finishing around 7:00 pm. That night, we went to student night at Dicey’s Garden Club and had a (too) fun time.

It was a struggle to get up Tuesday, but luckily we just had physics lecture and history lecture in the morning and a screening of the film Belfast that afternoon. The rest of the day was nothing too interesting, just laundry and planning upcoming trips.

Wednesday morning, I woke up early because my friend Kate from home flew in around 6:00 am! She arrived at UCD around 7:00 am and after getting ready we headed into town. We headed to breakfast and then explored Dublin. We were able to see the Book of Kells and The Long Room(most of the books are not there which was disappointing) at Trinity College as well as go into Saint Patricks Cathedral. We then shopped around and stopped in for Lunch before heading back to UCD for my lab. This lab was particularly challenging and long so we used the full three hours. After lab, I came back and got ready and we headed into town for dinner along with Sammy. We ate at Boeuf which was amazing steak, potatoes, and vegetables. After dinner, we met the rest of our friends in Temple Bar area and hopped around to different pubs until around 2:00 am. It was a wild but super fun night.

Thursday morning, Kate, Alex, and I got up early and ran to Blackrock for coffee and a quick bite to eat. We bused home and Alex and I headed to class while Kate took a nap and then exploded Dublin more. After class, Kate and I headed to the airport to catch a flight to Mallorca, Spain. Our flight got delayed so we didn’t arrive at the place we were staying in Magaluf until around 2:30 am. In Mallorca, we met up with my friend Jordyn who is studying in Madrid this summer and her friend Isa from her program. I was so excited to see Jordyn but exhausted from the long day of travel so we headed to bed.

Friday, we woke up, grabbed a croissant and coffee, and headed to Cala Cap Falcó via taxi where we relaxed, swam, and ate lunch. It was an amazing day and so good to relax by the ocean. It was difficult to find a taxi back so we ended up taking the bus which was easy to use and worked well. We got back and showered and headed into Palma to explore and for dinner. It was St John’s Day Saturday so there were festivities Friday night by the beach which were super cool/ The cathedral there was also gorgeous along with the palace and the restaurant was amazing. We got a taxi back and headed out to explore the night life in Magaluf. We had a fun night but had an early morning planned Saturday so didn’t stay out too late.

Saturday, around 9:30 we got picked up in a van to go to 3 of the best beaches on the island. It was also Jordyn’s birthday so I was so happy I got to spend the day with her. We first headed to Caló Des Moro, then Cala s’Almunia, and finally Cala Llombards. All three were absolutely beautiful and we were able to go cliff jumping, snorkeling, paddle boarding, and off a rope swing throughout the day. It was the perfect day and we had so much fun. We arrived back at our place and rested, got ready, and headed to dinner in Puerto Portals. The dinner was amazing and the restaurant was gorgeous. After dinner, we took a quick nap and then headed to BCM which was a huge club. We had a great night and ended up in bed around 5:00 am.

It was a struggle to get up the next morning, but we packed up, checked out, and headed to get brunch. The food was amazing(a common thing for this trip). Kate and I then said bye to Jordyn and Isa and we headed to the airport to catch our flight back to Dublin. We arrived back to UCD around 7:45 and headed into town to get some fish and chips. They were amazing and along with our lack of sleep immediately sent us into a food coma. We got back to UCD and headed to sleep immediately.

This morning, I woke up and Kate left before I headed to class :(. We only had class until 1:00 pm today so my plans for today include laying in bed. This week, like most, is going to be another crazy fun week so I can’t wait to show you more!

Elsa Pater

Industrial and Operations Engineering

BIG 10 STEM and Irish Studies: University College Dublin in Dublin, Ireland