#parents actually <3 so! getting tipsy before bed is second best option

[possum-tooth]

hellooooooo gay people in my phone <3 how r we feeling tknight i love yo uall <3

[f1united]

Secret - DR3 Imagine

Part 4 to Zoo!

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3

Daniel Ricciardo Imagine

Summary: You share your pregnancy with his family

This contains mentions of pregnancy so please do not read if this is something you may find triggering!

Ever since you and Daniel had taken the digital test, he hadn’t left your side. The confirmation that you were growing a mini Ricciardo inside of you made him smile more than he ever had before, something that you thought was borderline impossible. He had booked a trip for the two of you to spend some time together before he was thrown back into the busy f1 season. It was as though you had just met for the first time, staying up late talking and not being able to keeps your hands off each other wherever you went. When you’d flown back to Australia nothing changed and you felt yourself falling in love with him all over again.

Daniel laid beside you in bed, one arm around your shoulders and the other holding up the precious scan photo of your little baby that had been taken yesterday. Ever since you’d been given it neither one of you could seem to stop looking at it in complete awe. Truth be told there wasn’t too much to see, you weren’t too far along but that didn’t seem to matter.

“Have you thought about how to tell your family today?” you asked, diverting you eyes from the picture to his. Today was the last day Daniel would see his family before you both headed back to Europe to finish preparing for the first race in just two weeks’ time. The annual barbeque had become a tradition and was always a lovely way to say goodbye.

You hadn’t told anyone about your pregnancy yet. You were somewhat scared that if people knew your little secret it would burst this bubble that the two of you had found yourself in. However, you knew that he probably wanted to tell his parents in person, and it was uncertain the next time that would be.

“Not really I just think I’ll know when the times right, they’re going to be so excited” you knew he was right. They would be so excited, and you didn’t have to even doubt for a second that they wouldn’t support the both of you.

“We should probably get up, they’ll be here soon” you didn’t want to move, you could’ve laid like this forever, but you did need to get ready and start the food prep. You slowly lifted yourself up, placing a kiss on Daniel’s forehead as he unwrapped himself from you. It wasn’t until you were on your feet that you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and let out a small gasp.

“Daniel look” his eyes snapped towards you and watched intently as you carefully touched the small bump. You hadn’t started showing much and you were sure that this was just being you hadn’t been to the toilet yet this morning but none the less it all started to feel a bit more real.

“Oh my god” Daniel climbed out of bed and stood behind you, placing his arms and hands over yours to hold the little baby too.

“I suppose I should go and pick out a floaty dress for the day” you smiled. It didn’t take long for everyone to arrive. You had let them all in while Daniel stayed in the garden with his barbeque and his beer. They never came empty handed and you gave them a hand carrying the food through to the dining table outside. His nephew was the first one to greet Daniel, shortly followed by everyone else.

“What does everyone want to drink?” you asked as everyone began to sit down. You figured this way you could pour yourself a soft drink without anyone noticing you weren’t on the alcohol too.

“Another one of these please” Daniel waved his beer can towards you and you nodded in acknowledgement.

“I’ll have a glass of white wine if you’ve got one please” His mum asked, shortly followed with an agreement of his sister while her husband followed suit.

You turned your attention towards his dad.

“I’ll come in and give you a hand” he replied to which you gratefully accepted.

“Isaac what about you?”

“What have you got” he asked as he ran around the garden.

“Oooooo where do I start, fizzy drinks, fruit shoots”

“Why don’t you go with Auntie Y/N and have a look” His mum suggested to which he nodded his head and ran towards the kitchen while you and Joe followed behind.

You opened the fridge stacked with drinks as Isaac held his hands up for up to lift him up. You placed him on your hip as you went through the different options with him until he decided on some lemonade.

“Now can I trust you to give Uncle Daniel his beer without drinking it before you get there?” you asked. “And then I’ll bring out your drink with mine?” The little boy nodded furiously as you handed him the can and put him down on the floor before watching him run off. You grabbed the lemonade and wine from the fridge and placed it next to the glasses Joe had just got out the cupboard. You felt your chest get warm at the site of Isaac passing Daniel the beer and giving him a hug in response.

“How have you been” Joe asked, snapping you out of your little daydream.

“Good actually” you replied, “Really good”.

“I can tell” he laughed slightly at how smiley you were. “I take it you won’t be having one of these” he nodded towards the wine he has cracked open and started distributing between the glasses. Your evident shock made him laugh once more. “Don’t worry, I got you a wine glass for your lemonade, no one needs to know” he gave you a small wink.

“Is it really that obvious?” You asked him as you finished pouring yours and Isaacs drinks.

“Not at all you just have this unmistakable pregnancy glow, Grace had the same thing when she was pregnant with Daniel. I don’t think anyone else has picked up on it” you breathed a sigh of relief at his honesty.

“We were planning on telling you all today” you admitted

“I knew as soon as he sent us those pictures of you away on holiday, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy. Grace insisted you’d secretly got engaged or eloped” you couldn’t help but laugh at his comment. You were so grateful for the relationship you had with Joe, and so was Daniel.

“I hadn’t even thought about that if I’m honest. We had the first scan yesterday” You pulled open the drawer to the left of you and placed it on the side. You knew you would have needed it close by to show the others at some point this afternoon, you just didn’t realise it would be so soon. His eyes filled up with tears slightly as he brought you in for a hug.

“Oh Y/N, I’m so happy for the both of you”

“I can’t wait to see him become a dad” you admitted as you buried your head in his shoulder in an attempt to reduce the tears.

“What am I missing out on here?” Daniel voice shocked the both of you as you let go of Joe and looked at the Australian walking through the kitchen towards you.

“We were just talking about how great of a dad you’re going to be” Joe smiled at his son as Daniel looked between the two of you slightly confused. “Oh come on she didn’t tell me I can just tell, I don’t know how your mother can’t. It just takes one look at the two of you to know there’s something going on. Plus, the last few times we’ve seen you, you haven’t been able to keep your hands off her belly. Usually they’re on her arse”. You let out a laugh at his comment as he gave Daniel a hug.

“Now lets go and eat, Dan can you carry some of these out?” Joe asked as you watched Dan slide the scan photo into his back pocket.

It wasn’t long before you all tucked into the food and spent the afternoon chatting about old memories and making new ones. A badminton tournament had broken out at one point, then Isaac had decided he wanted to go swimming so hopped into he pool with Daniel for a while.

It wasn’t until the sun started to set that you remembered you had dessert in the fridge.

“Ill come and grab them with you” Daniel stated as he got up from the table and held your hand as you both walked into the kitchen. The second you were out of sight from the others he pulled you in for a kiss. You giggled slightly at the taste of beer on his lips.

“What was the for Ricciardo?” you asked him as he hugged you tightly.

“What I’m not allowed to kiss my girlfriend anymore? The mother of my child?”

“Keep your voice down” you reminded him as he trailed a few kisses down your neck and collar bone. “Seriously what had gotten into you?” You giggled as he looked up to meet your eye, you could see the tipsiness dancing around them. “Your mum brought over some champagne for a toast to you leaving, I was thinking we could open it with dessert and tell them then?” Daniel nodded in front of you, almost immediately appearing to have sobered up as he planted his hands on your belly.

“I love you so much” he told you as he rested his forehead against yours.

“I love you more” you told him as you shared a kiss once more.

Joe began to fill up the champagne glasses once you’d both returned to the table as you began to cut everyone a slice of the cake you’d brought and it wasn’t long until Grace stood up with her glass in hand.

“I just wanted to raise a toast, to appreciating the time we’ve had with Daniel and to wish him all the best in the new season” Before everyone could cheers, Daniel stood up to and you felt your body become nervous with excitement as he held onto your hand tightly.

“Before we leave we just wanted to say how much we’re going to miss you so we have a picture that we want you to keep while we’re away” Daniel dug into his pocket and handed the image to Isaac first who was sat next to you.

“What is it?” he asked. You point at the small shape in the middle of the image.

“That right there is a picture of Baby Ricciardo” you moved your hands to your stomach and rubbed it slightly. “Who right now is sat in here�� Gasps were heard all around the table as Isaac passed the picture to his mum.

“So it’s your baby?” He asked

“Mine and Daniel’s yes, it’s your little cousin” you told him.

“Oh my!” you looked over to Grace who was making her way towards you both with her arms wide open as you got up from your chair to embrace her.

“I’m going to be a nanny again” she cried as the rest of the table got up to congratulate you. “Joe get up your sons going to be a dad”

“Oh I know, she’s been on the lemonade all day” He chuckled. After the evening had come to an end and everyone had said their goodbyes you climbed into bed with Daniel and you both just smiled at one another as you realised that nothing was going to stop the love you both shared and that your baby might just be the most loved person in the entire world.

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

If You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 4

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordam. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character

A/N: The babies. I’ve outlined like eight chapters at least, so I think this thing’s just going to go until I run out of steam. So here’s a third part already. Also, I threw up a pinned post masterlist to throw my AO3 links on

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

November 2014

Victoria had gone to her mom’s house, the one by the Carisi’s, for Thanksgiving, but she should have known better than to think that she’d be there. Housekeepers kept the place up, but Irene hadn’t been around much since her daughter was seventeen. She hadn’t been there the year before for Victoria’s first set of holidays alone, and she wasn’t this year either. The year before, Victoria had made the rounds between childhood friends. Rachel would normally be who she went to now that she was coming to terms with the possibility of an actual divorce. She said she was coming to terms with it a lot for someone who just avoided the subject entirely and cried in Sonny’s Fordham sweatshirt at least two nights a week. Coming to her mom’s house when the childhood friends from the year before were at their significant other’s families’ houses was not her best idea when it meant she could hear the bustle of activity at the Carisi’s house. 

“Bella?” she said softly when she answered the knock at her door. It was late, and she’d heard everyone start to wind down and broken out the wine.

“Hey Tori. I know coming over ain’t exactly an option, but I snuck you a plate. And a bottle of wine from their stockpile.” Victoria motioned for her to come in, watching her unload a bag onto the kitchen counter. 

“That’s really sweet of you.”

“I wanted to make sure you ate good. You’re getting awful skinny for a baker.”

“Ain’t got Sonny making spaghetti like three nights a week.”

“He’s getting skinny without the endless supply of cannoli. Maybe you oughta come over and reconcile.”

“Bella, he knows what he has to do for us to be okay. I wouldn’t care if it weren’t for the fact whatever he needs to talk to me about made him push me away.”

“At least say hi before the end of tomorrow? He’s got the sad puppy eyes, watching your house.”

“We’ll see.” Bella said her goodbyes, and Victoria opened the second bottle of wine, settling on the porch. She saw Sonny making his way over a half hour later, sighing as she downed the end of the glass. 

“Bella send ya?” she called, bundled up in the blanket she’d brought out.

“Just said you were here. Heard you pop the cork and needed a break. Besides, you shouldn’t be alone on the holiday.””

“Nosy neighbor, huh?”

“The sound really echoes between these houses. I’d have invited you, but Ma…”

“It’s okay, Dom. You free all weekend? Or they got you working?”

“I’m not Staten Island anymore,” he said proudly. He’d been drinking too, which made it easier for both of them.

“Where are you now?”

“Manhattan SVU.”

“You made it?” Her voice was ecstatic, and he grinned when she jumped from the porch swing to hug him close. “I’m so proud of you, Dom.”

“Thanks, Tor. It’s only been three months, but I think it’s the right place. I feel like I’m really doin’ something, y’know?”

“Yeah. And you’re such a good guy, y’know? I bet victims feel comfortable.”

“That means more than I can tell you.”

“Want a glass of your mom’s wine to celebrate?”

“I’ll grab the second glass.” Before she could stop him, he went in, coming back and dropping on the swing beside her. She poured them each a glass, head resting on his shoulder as she sipped her own. It was quiet, and she wanted to get at least this long to be close to him. The hope from Teresa’s wedding wasn’t there. This would just be an evening, and he’d go home.

“How’s classes?”

“They’ve been good. I take finals next week.”

“Halfway through,” she grinned up at him as he took a share of the blanket. 

“And, I don’t know how else to bring it up, but I’m working on figuring out how to talk about how I felt. It’s like my brain disconnects when I try. I said it to my new boss, and I went to therapy. Apparently it sounded heavy.”

“I appreciate that, Dom. I know that isn’t easy for you.”

“Don’t tell nobody. Ma’s not happy about it.”

“I won’t. Spousal privilege.”

“Now we really can’t get divorced.”

“You’re not wearing your ring.” His hand slid into his hoodie, pulling out a chain with the gold band on it. 

“Yours is on your right hand.”

“It’s just hard to explain.”

“I know. The squad doesn’t know yet. I’m already trying to be the new guy. Saying I won’t divorce my wife even though I only see her ever four to six months because I truly believe she’s made for me and I love her? Way too much to unpack.”

“We hired new people. Hard to seem like the boss with her shit together when you ain’t lived with your husband in over a year.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“You’re confident.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m scared you won’t trust me to tell me.”

“It’s not about trust, Tor. I know it’s a lot, but trust me on this. It’s not about you.”

“Okay,” she nodded, taking his hand. “You’ve been really open with me tonight. So I’m willing to believe you.”

“Thanks, doll. I’m going to tell the squad about you. That’s step one. Then I’m going to get my head out of my ass.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, arm slung around her. It felt weird knowing there were people in his life who didn’t know she existed. It bothered him too. He didn’t know how to go into everything. Whenever he talked to his mom or Gina, it ended with him crying, telling them that he knew God had made them for each other, and he’d ruined it all with his free will. He wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable. Telling them what he couldn’t tell his family was one thing; they saw the same thing, day in and day out. He couldn’t taint them. He could make himself seem broken, some newbie who couldn’t tell a woman he’d been with a decade how cases made him feel. 

“Do I have to go home or can I just hold you tonight?”

“I’m not up for analyzing things tomorrow. Limbo isn’t changing until you can tell me..”

“That’s okay with me, doll.”

“Then okay. I’m eating the slice of pie Bella brought over first.”

“Of course that’s fine,” he chuckled. “I had t’loosen my belt. Had like a quarter of the pie myself.”

“So there was pumpkin. You just ate it,” she teased, leading him in. The house looked the same as it had when they were kids. Once they got married, they never really spent time there, always going to his family’s house, and Victoria’s mom coming if she felt like it. Now that he worked with SVU, he remembered how often she was alone as a kid and felt grateful it was his family that lived next door. That could have ended very differently for her. He’d tell her about that when the damn finally burst. She plated her pie, tupperware stacked in the fridge, before she leaned over the counter and took a bite. 

“Chocolate bourbon pecan. The one you taught her.” He missed that part of the holiday the most. This was the second Thanksgiving he didn’t get to watch Victoria carefully teach his mom a new dessert. She gathered new recipes all year round, spreading them out to narrow down which she’d get the ingredients for the weekend before Thanksgiving. Sonny would usually make lasagna that day, listening as she described the pros and cons of each option and offering his opinion when prompted. 

“She did it perfect.” 

“Nah. Your crust is better. You ever gonna tell the secret?”

“Not a chance. Gotta keep my edge. You think she’s ever going to tell the secret ingredient to her cannoli filling?”

“Noted.” He dropped onto the stool on the other side of the counter, chin propped in his hand. It had taken a couple more beers than he should have had to come over, and now with the wine, Sonny had the sleepy eyes and goofy grin that gave it away.

“You’re drunk.”

“Just tipsy.”

“No gettin’ handsy, Sonny.”

“Promise. I’m a good boy.”

“Mhm,” she laughed, holding out a bite of pie he took gladly. “We’re going to have to get you to bed soon. Otherwise, you’ll get grumpy.”

“You make me sound like a toddler.”

“Only when you’ve been drinking.”

“Y’know, I’m a detective now. If I hadn’t fucked up, we might be down that road.”

“Dom, we’re so far from kids right now.”

“Let me be drunk and sentimental.”

“I thought you weren’t drunk.”

“Fine, I’m drunk.” 

“I appreciate the honesty,” she grinned, putting the plate in the drying rack. “I bet you still got a pair of sweats in my room from high school.”

“Lucky me.” She led him upstairs, digging them out of the dresser and tossing them to him. When he caught them, he was prouder than he should’ve been, stripping his jeans off and pulling them on. Victoria hadn’t taken her pajamas off that day, climbing into the bed. Sonny belly flopped next to her, and she pulled her knees up, laughing loudly. With a grin, he settled the blanket over them and flung an arm over her. Maybe he was taking advantage of the excuse drinking gave him, but he liked hearing her laugh. Sonny Carisi was still a gentleman though, and he was careful to keep his arm on her stomach and his hands on her ribs. This visit was more delicate than the wedding. Memories probably still helped; they were in her teenage room after all. His parents were always home, and her mom wasn’t. 

“Whatcha thinking?” Victoria asked gently, hand smoothing over his hair. 

“I miss this.”

“Staten Island?”

“Watching you eat pie when I’m drunk and staring at ya.”

“You’re sappy. Get some sleep.”

“If I go to sleep, it’s over sooner.” She smoothed his hair back gently, smiling as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes and hummed, and Victoria thought describing Sonny as a puppy seemed even more apt. He was curling against her, pleased at the attention as she scratched his scalp. WHen they were kids, he’d always said If I go to sleep, it’s over sooner with excitement as they waited on vacations or holiday mornings. He’d said it sadly tonight. She didn’t like that. The more times she saw him, the more tempted she was not to wait it out and come home. So what if she had to worry he’d pull away again?

It mattered because she had to remember how she felt. Waiting at home all those months, fighting him, begging for something to prove he wanted her there. Victoria couldn’t do it again, but she also couldn’t picture turning thirty without Sonny. Having a kid without him. Sitting on a porch with some other guy. After a while, soft snoring alerted her that he’d fallen asleep, arm still flung over her and his head on her shoulder. Her cheek rested against the top of his head as she tried to memorize what this felt like again. 

He’d met a therapist. That was what made it feel more like there might be a conclusion to the separation. Before tonight, she’d accepted this weird limbo may be permanent. Despite the mentions of divorce, she knew neither of them would do it. Therapy wasn’t something Sonny’s family valued, and he’d always been resistant to the concept for himself. When Victoria went, he was supportive and recognized the good it did her, but his father had always demeaned it, and that stuck with him. That wasn’t a problem before when Victoria could weasel the problem out of him. He didn’t think he was in the wrong before, but it seemed whatever was wrong was something he realized was too big for him. It didn’t bother her that she couldn’t fix it for him; she was just glad he was accepting help somewhere.

She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but Sonny was gone when she woke. Her first response was panic, that maybe how they left things the morning after the wedding meant he’d opted for the same response as the first time and gone home before she woke up. Her mind stopped racing, however, when she realized she could smell coffee and bacon wafting through the door. She slipped out of bed, finding him in the kitchen with his hair askew as he flipped a pancake. 

“Mornin’ doll,” he smiled shyly, pouring coffee and sliding the mug to her. It seemed like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be there, and she supposed she didn’t know if he should be or not. “I got some time before I have to go to the precinct, so I figured I’d make you pancakes.”

“Thanks, Dom.” She pressed a kiss to his temple. “Ain’t Ma going to be mad?”

“She can deal with it. She had me all day yesterday. I know I ain’t ready to tell you what you need me to, but I want to leave on a good note. Prove I’m really trying.” Victoria set her coffee back on the counter, arms sliding around him as she pressed her cheek to his back. His free hand rested where hers clasped as he flipped another pancake.

“That means a lot, Dom.”

“You felt like I didn’t want you with me. Leaving when you’re asleep or pressuring you won’t help. You told me what to do, and all I can do is prove I want you while I work on doing it. If you love somebody, let ‘em go. If it’s meant to be, they’ll come back. And it’s meant to be, Tor. Ordained by the big guy.”

“You really believe that?”

“Believe it? I know it, doll.”

“You know I do love you?”

“I know. And I do love you. We just never had to communicate before.”

“How dare we develop real problems in our twenties?”

“Right? What chumps.”

“Should we go to therapy together?”

“I’m not ready yet, Tor. But I think it would be a good idea when I am.”

“Me too,” she said, squeezing him before she let go. “I can see you’re trying.”

“I’m just glad you ain’t mad I haven’t told the new squad yet.”

“It’s super complicated. I understand.”

“Yeah. I’m still growing on them. I don’t want to seem like I’ve got a lot of drama too. Because weirdly, we’re low to no drama. But ‘Yeah, I’m married and we see each other for a day every few months while we try to figure out how to talk’ sounds bad.”

“Only a little,” she laughed, taking their plates to the table as he refilled the coffee. They ate happily, Victoria kissing him softly when he left to get dressed for work back at his mom’s house. Gianna Carisi was in the yard, shooting them a disapproving look. He shook his head at her, ushering the woman inside before she could try to talk to Victoria. Sonny understood his mom’s stance: her son could do no wrong. In reality, they had both done wrong. Victoria should have told him how she was feeling before they were in too deep, and he shouldn’t have waited so long to process what he saw on the job. 

“Ma, you leave my wife alone.”

“You’re not acting married. You’re acting like acquaintances that get lucky sometimes.”

“And you’re not helping my chances of fixing things.”

“Dominick, it’s been over a year.”

“And I’m finally getting off my ass, going to therapy, and trying to work with Tor.”

“You don’t need therapy, Dom. Just man up, like your father.”

“I do. And it’s helpin’ and I just got to spend a night and morning with Victoria with no fighting. That’s a step in the right direction.”

Tag list: @fear-less-write-more​

[jessalynlearns]

Timeline Reference - Incredibles 2 (2018)

I really enjoyed making a timeline for the first Incredibles movie, and even though there were some discrepancies (let's just all agree to ignore adult Stratogale, who should have been about 5 years old in 1947, being at Bob and Helen's wedding), it was still a pretty cohesive timeline.  

Incredibles 2 ... not so much. Despite the fact that it takes place over a much shorter period of time than the first movie, the timeline is so muddled that it's very difficult to track the passage of time, and it's absolutely impossible without making some choices to rectify the discrepancies that are inherent in the story (when Brad Bird says he really doesn't care about timelines/geography, he means it!)

But ... here's my best shot!

As I established in my timeline for The Incredibles, the main story takes place over six month period in 1962 (Wednesday, May 16 through mid-autumn). The only canonical date that we know of in I2 is Friday, October 25, which is the day after Helen saves Ambassador Selick from the Screenslaver, which actually corroborates my findings pretty closely.

Simple right? Actually, no.  October 25 was a Thursday in 1962, but a Friday in 1963.  It's likely that 1963 was the year that the crew was using for this movie, since Dementia 13 (which is spoofed as DementiA 113 at the end of the movie) came out in 1963.  However, as the days of the week are so insanely inconsistent in this movie, I’m going to ignore the Friday part and still assume that we’re in 1962.

Day 1 -- Underminer Attack: Three months after the Omnidroid Battle, Dash takes second place at his track meet, the Parrs and Frozone battle but fail to capture the Underminer, the Parrs are taken in for questioning by the police, and Elastigirl receives and accepts the job offer from the Deavors.

[Note: you could make the case that Incredibles 2 ignores the three-month time jump established at the end of the first movie.  There's nothing explicit that shows this, but it does seem strange that the Parrs are still living in the motel, Bob is unemployed and hasn't even looked for work, and he even mentions that his business suits were "burned up when the jet destroyed our house," which is a silly thing to say if he's had three months to buy new suits.  However, given the date established by Helen's newspaper, I'll continue to operate under the assumption that it has been three months since the Omnidroid attack.]

Day 2 -- The Parrs move into Winston's house outside Municiberg, and Helen leaves the same day, taking the Elasticycle to the airport and traveling to New Urbem, arriving just as the sun begins setting.

[Note: I initially thought that Helen left the next morning before Violet and Dash got up for school (which is kind of implied by Dash and Bob's lines, "Where's Mom?" "She's up and out...") but when Helen is putting on the Galbacki suit, Bob and Jack-Jack are in the same clothes as when they arrived at the house, and the gift basket from the Deavors is still sitting on the bed, which is meticulously made, and it seems unlikely that that would be the case if Bob and Helen had slept in it the night before. It's more likely that Helen simply left sometime in the mid-afternoon the same day that they arrived.]

Day 3 -- This is the first full day that Bob cares for the kids on his own.  The kids eat breakfast and go to school, and then the narrative jumps to the evening.  Helen saves the MetroLev train from derailing, first learns of the Screenslaver, and Tony fails to show up for his date with Violet, presumably having had his mind wiped by Dicker the day before. Bob struggles to help Dash with his math homework and later learns of Jack-Jack's multitude of powers after his fight with the racoon.  

[Note: it is established in both movies that Tony and Violet's date is on a Friday.  However, if that's the case, then the next day should be a Saturday, yet the kids go to school the very next day.  And there is definitely no weekend time jump between Violet's date and when she confronts Tony at his locker, because Bob stays up all night to figure out Dash's math homework, and when he wakes him up extra early the next morning, Bob's line is, "I think I understand your math assignment.  We still have some time to finish it before your test."]

Day 4 -- Violet confronts Tony and thinks that he's pretending now to know her.  Helen meets Ambassador Selick and goes on TV to talk about saving the MetroLev, but the Screenslaver strikes for the second time, hijacking the Ambassador's aerocade.

Day 5 -- Friday, October 25 -- The morning after Elastigirl saves the Ambassador, Violet discovers that Dicker erased Tony's memories of her.  Having flown back to Municiberg, Helen sees the little girl holding the Screenslaver sign, Helen goes to DevTech and meets the Wannabee Supers.  They have a little celebratory gathering, but by the time they've finished their cake and gotten mildly tipsy, it's getting dark outside and Winston says that he's going to bed. Helen proposes a way to catch the Screenslaver, and says that she needs to fly back to New Urbem ("How soon can you ... meet me at the airport? Gotta get out of town, pronto.")

[Note: there are several discrepancies inherent in this.  Tony and Violet's Friday night date was only two days before, but the newspaper says that it's Friday again. In addition, Helen was clearly in New Urbem when she saved the Ambassador, but the next day, she travels to in the limo to DevTech which is headquartered in Municiberg.  We also see the Everjust outside the building, so we know that this is Municiberg, and not a DevTech located in New Urbem.  I'd be tempted to assume a time jump between Days 4 and 5, but the newspaper Helen reads clearly states that the save of the Ambassador happened the night before. To me, it seems to be morning when Helen’s in the limo, but I suppose you could say that it’s early afternoon, and see traveled back that morning.]

Day 6 -- Bob calls Dicker and learns more about Tony.  That evening, he takes the kids to the Happy Platter, where Bob tries to mend Violet and Tony's relationship, with disastrous results.  That night, back in New Urbem, Helen has a remote interview with Chad on the news, but Screenslaver strikes for the third time.  Helen tracks him to the Screenslaver lair, and captures the perpetrator in spite of the fact that the lair is destroyed.

Day 7 -- In the evening, Dash comes to an exhausted Bob for more help with his "fractions and denecimals" homework, and Bob learns that the Incredibile still exists. Dash and Violet discover Jack-Jack's powers, Lucius comes over and encourages Bob to get some outside help.  Bob brings Jack-Jack to Edna's house, and apologizes to Violet for the Tony situation.  That same night, once again back in Municiberg, Winston hosts a party at DevTech, where he announces that Supers will be made legal again.  Helen discovers the true identity of the Screenslaver, and Evelyn hypnotizes her.

[Note: Violet says that Bob slept for "seventeen hours" but if that's the case, that would mean that Bob wakes up in the early afternoon, and yet everything in that scene points to it being an early weekend morning: Dash is watching cartoons in his jammies.  He has mussy hair and is eating cereal, and the entire scene is cast with a gentle, diffused light reminiscent of a rising sun (you can actually see the sun rising behind Bob’s head when he says that he feels “Super.”).  The scene outside Edna's house also looks like it's the morning when Bob picks him up, and Edna doesn't make any comment about Bob leaving Jack-Jack with her all night and all day long, so the best option, in my opinion, is to assume that Violet is exaggerating and that Bob only slept a more regular amount of time.]

Day 8 -- Bob wakes up the next morning and picks Jack-Jack up from Edna's house with his new suit and tracker. In the evening, Helen wakes up in the ice chamber, and Evelyn (unironically) monologues at her before hypnotizing her again.* Evelyn calls Bob, he drives to the ship at DevTech and is hypnotized by Helen.** Evelyn sends the Wannabees to capture the Parr children at Winston's house, but they escape in the newly-summoned Incredibile and only Lucius is captured.  The kids decide to go after the ship themselves and arrive at dawn of Day 9***.

[*Note: Evelyn has Helen hypnotized for nearly 24 hours before she monologues at her, which I feel is a pretty significant jump, because I can’t imagine that she was in the ice chamber for 24 hours.

**Note: Bob tells Evelyn that it will take him 15 minutes to get from Winston's house to the ship at DevTech.  When the kids escape in the Incredibile, it's not that late at night, and it doesn't seem to take them long to get to the ship, but by the time they get onboard, the sun is clearly rising.

***Note: As the signing ceremony doesn't happen until later in the day on Day 9, we'll just assume that the kids sleep through the morning and afternoon before taking action, considering none of them slept at all the previous night]

Day 9 -- The Signing Ceremony and Final Battle: Before the signing, Violet and Dash have to chase Jack-Jack around a bit.  The signing occurs, legalizing Supers again, and then Evelyn strikes again, hypnotizing the ambassadors and Superheroes and sabotaging the Everjust to run into downtown Municiberg at top-speed.  The kids help to save their parents, Lucius, and the Wannabees from Evelyn's control, and Evelyn attempts to escape the ship.  Helen pursues her as Bob and Lucius divert the ship away from the city.  By the time the final battle is over and Evelyn is arrested, it's dark outside once again.

Day 10-ish and after -- The judge of Municiberg declares Superheroes legal again.  Violet talks to Tony at school, and she and Tony (and the rest of the family) go to the movie theater, but are diverted by a police/criminal shootout.

So at least we can establish that the movie takes place over the course of about 10 days, and those days seem to happen consecutively, without any time jumps in between.  This is an insanely quick amount of time to enact a piece of world-wide legislation, but ... whatever!  That’s probably the least annoying thing about this timeline as a whole!

[you-exist-in-words]

as boats against the current

we beat on

but for what?

I knew those were the the best moments of my life; what I didn’t realize was how shit the rest would be.

*

We were all wearing sweatpants, makeup free, hair in messy buns. No one gave a damn. The three of us stepped out of the air-conditioned bubble of Leah’s house, and into the soft night air. It was sticky outside, but the breeze blew through us like the leaves on the trees that rustled above our heads. I felt pure and on top of the world.

“Who’s car?” Jessica asked.

I held up my arm, rattling the keys to my parent’s Honda CRV. I was arguably the worst driver of us all, but I had parked at the back of the driveway, and their empty wine glasses in the kitchen sink said I was the best option right now.  

“Shotgun!” Jessica said. She pronounced it in a sing song voice with the emphasis on the second syllable. Usually she would have offered the front seat to Rachel, but she was a little tipsy and in a definitely don’t care mood. 

“Okay,” Rachel conceded. “But I get the aux”. We piled into the car. Rachel plugged in her phone. I started the engine. We rolled down the windows and the sunroof. I cranked the volume. 

Don't get me wrong, it's pretty cool to be on TV

So all the folks back home can see me

And that I'm livin' it out

All the things I used to dream about

Mason Ramsey’s cookie cutter, nasally, 10 year old voice boomed through the car speakers and out the windows. We screamed along with the lyrics as I accidentally reversed over Rachel’s boulevard and the car bounced backwards over the curb, heaving on the shocks. It took us the length of the song (3 minutes and 13 seconds) to cruise around the block and pull up in front of Dairy Queen. 

Slight variations of this exact scene played out at least a couple times a week. Sometimes we went to Tim Hortons. Sometimes Rachel or Jessica drove. The feeling was always the same. We were alive with summer nights coursing through our veins like our own personal brand of heroine; the high was endless.

*

“Gin and tonic. A double please. Hendrick. You have cucumber?” I drop my purse and jacket to the ground as I say all of this. The stool screeches obnoxiously against the floor. The bartender nods and starts to mix my drink. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here at 3pm on a Sunday?”

If the room wasn’t already spinning around me like some fucked up solar system I didn’t ask to be a part of, I’d get up and leave right now.

“No.” I say flatly. The conversation mercifully ends there. 

*

“I’m here!” I declared, knocking on the door as I let myself into Asia’s house. A chorus of hellos from various rooms was returned to me by her family members. A moment later, Jessica galloped down the stairs.

“Hiiiiyeeeee,” she posed and smiled with a tilt of her head. Iconic. I threw her back a peace sign and we headed up the stairs to her room. Jessica’s room had changed very little in the ten years I’d known her. Her day bed was folded up into a single, which left plenty of room for the trenches of laundry on the floor. Her suitcase lay open, perpetually half packed because she was always going back and forth from somewhere. One wall was a blackboard that said things we had written years before like Rachel loves you, circled in a crude chalk heart. I left my bag on the floor and crawled into her bed. She went over to her full length mirror and examined her hair. 

“Should I curl it?” she asked. I looked at the time. We only had about 30 minutes before we had to leave and we still had to eat, drink, get dressed, finish my makeup, and walk downtown. At the same time she looked stunning in curls. 

“Try baby pig tails and then if that doesn’t work we can do curls.” I could do my own makeup if need be, and we didn’t really have to eat until later. I got out of bed, pulled off my shirt, went to the bathroom and started priming my face. A few minutes later, Asia’s hand appeared from around the corner and placed a half can of cider on the counter. 

“What do we think of this hair,” she sashayed into the bathroom.

“Ooo very good, definitely yes,” I answered. We drank, we chatted, we sang along to pump up music while she helped me to finish my makeup. 

Not half an hour later, we were dressed and ready in tight black clothes and matching dark lipstick. We put our shoes on by the front door while trying to down the last few sips of our second shared cider. 

The night air blew life into our lungs and song into our souls. Headlights passed like strings of twinkling lights. The sidewalk was our path to anywhere. I held Jessica’s hand because I wanted to share every second of closeness. For once, we weren’t separated by cities, or continents or even air; everything was movement and laugher and lightness.

*

After giving him the Ice Queen attitude the bartender is ignoring me and I find this annoying. I watch him fiddle with glasses and wipe down the already pristine marble counter top. Soft jazz plays in the background. When he turns around again I wave him over, my fresh French manicure catches the light, overshadowed only by the massive diamond on my finger. I put on a cutesy smile.

“I’m sorry for before I’m just having a bit of a day.” I think I might sound crazy. “You know how that happens”. I don’t know if he’s actually unsurprised by my sudden shift in attitude or if his poker face is just good, but he smiles genuinely. 

“Forget about it,” he says dismissively. He starts to turn around again, to do what I’m not sure. Polish the already shinning crystal glasses? 

“You know something,” I start. Trying for his attention again. I wonder why I’ve got to be such a bitch. I lurch a bit on my bar stool, but lean forward into the counter, putting my elbows on the bar for more stability. 

“Everyone is fucked; no one was ever loved enough”. Someone told me that once. But it’s not true. I was loved enough. I just lost it. I laugh out loud, effectively interrupting whatever he might have come up with in response to my absurd outburst. It’s a high pealing sound like bells ringing a hundred miles away. Bells that I can’t see through this fog.

*

We sat in my kitchen in varied states of hungover. Birds chirped from the open window, their energy expanding like the heat of the rising sun. We were all looking at our phones, occasionally showing a meme of something stupid that someone we knew had posted on social media. Hot coffee was already in mugs on the counter. Rachel went to the fridge.

“What kind of milk do you have?”

“I think there’s soy, almond, coconut and regular… orange juice if you fancy a twist,” I mimed a shimmy at this last suggestion. Rachel made a face and put the carton of almond milk in front of us. The fridge clattered to a close behind her. Jessica laughed but didn’t look up from her phone. The stillness of the morning and the quiet of the house, emphasized our togetherness. After a chaotic night at the bar, shrouded in the haze of tequila, blaring music and finally, burritos—the silence was much needed. 

Eventually, I clunked my phone down on the counter.

“I’m hungry, what’s our breakfast plan?”

We murmured back and forth contemplating where we wanted to eat. 

“39 Carden might be good, we could sit on the patio”

“Yeah but they changed their breakfast menu and it’s medium”

“We could do symposium, it’s close”

“But their food sucks and its expensive”

“What about Angel’s, it’s a classic… and cheap,” Rachel suggested.

A general nod circulated between us.

Sitting in the vintage teal and red booth at Angel’s Dinner was like being in a time warp. The world stopped spinning. We could have been 50 years in the past or 20 in the future. This place never seemed to change, and neither did our friendship. Against all odds, some things last.

*

“Can I get a shot of vodka too,” the words feel heavy in my mouth and thick in my brain. I barely acknowledge the bartender, I’ve gone back to ignoring him. The shot appears in front of me. There is no one else around. Empty bar, empty bottle. This is where I find comfort; when you have nothing, it can’t be taken away. I know it’s unfair, but I’m angry at you, at myself, at the state of the world. I feel like a screaming spec in the universe, asking to be a part of it, and asking for it to end.

This is what it’s come to—empty chairs at empty tables… at least Marius’ friends were dead. Mine are just ghosts of the past.

[passionate-baker]

Exploring Copenhagen, Denmark

This coming September, I will have known one of my best friends for twelve years. That’s half of my lifetime &, I would say, a rather impressively long time to still enjoy another person’s company. We’ve spent a heck of a lot of time together during our twelve years, so much so that our teachers used to make comments to our parents about us being glued together at the hip. That’s normal though, right? Our school days went like this: if one of us wanted to go somewhere, then the other followed suit. Even now, years after school has ended, we can usually be found together most of the time. Probably the biggest example of this was that time I decided to walk across Spain on the Camino de Santiago & I didn’t even really have to convince her into coming with me, she just did. 

As far as I can remember, we’ve journeyed abroad no less than nine times together, & visited a total of seventeen cities, not including travelling within Ireland. Quite frankly, I think she’s a keeper. 

A few months ago, we realised that it had been close to three years since our last trip abroad together. This was enough to prompt us to start looking up flights, accommodation, cities etc. Spain, Croatia, Poland? Denmark? Denmark stuck, & everything fell perfectly into place for Copenhagen. It was decided. 

The Danish capital is one of the most beautiful cities I’ve ever been in, & I speak for the two of us when I say with absolute certainty that we loved every single second of our time there. We spent (nearly) all day every day being amazed by the beauty around every single corner. Cobbled streets, pastel painted buildings, rose bushes, bikes as far as the eye can see, cinnamon rolls, amazing coffee, beautiful Danish people everywhere (why is everyone so blonde & perfect in Denmark!?), quirky parks & statues, an incredible atmosphere, & an overall sense of calmness & safety. I know that last one sounds a little bizarre, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt so safe in a city - everyone just seems so laid back & casual. 

Heaps of photos & recommendations on where to go, what to do, where to drink, & where to eat below!

Stay 

Copenhagen Downtown Hostel // this is the same place I stayed the first time I visited Copenhagen, and I still loved it this time ‘round. It’s a casual chilled out kind of place & the staff are super lovely. We stayed in a 4-bed female only dorm during our stay & it was perfect for what we needed - it was quiet & clean & cozy. Added bonus: you get a free dinner thrown in when you book through their website & also the alcohol is gloriously cheap. 

Do

The Round Tower // this was one of the things that somehow eluded me on my first trip to Copenhagen a couple of years ago, so I was pretty eager to visit the tower this time around. It turned out to be one of our most favourite things that we did during our time in the city, we completely loved it. The price of a ticket is dirt cheap - something like 3 euro - and it is beyond worth it. Instead of the usual pain of having to climb up a billion steps on a tight spiraling staircase, the path to the top of the Tower is a welcoming spiral slope. 

Rosenborg Palace // the whole truth: we only wandered down to Rosenborg Palace because we spied it from the top of The Round Tower & thought it was high time we visited a pretty garden. Wandering into the gardens is like wandering into a movie scene set in Paris - there’s something about the roofs of the surrounding buildings and the people picnicking with glasses of rosé & baguettes and the other people celebrating a birthday with bunting wrapped from tree to tree that just makes it all feel so surreal in the best way ever. During our walk of the grounds we came across the royal guard about to make their journey over to Amelienborg Palace for the changing of the guard.

Amelienborg Palace // we didn’t plan on paying to visit the inside of the palace - although I’m sure it’s worth it - so we planned our day around going to see the changing of the guards, which happens on the grounds of the residence every day at noon. The (what look like) toy soldiers come marching into the centre of the square & slowly make their way around to each of the four houses to change guards while the crowds excitedly snap away. Coincidentally, the day we decided to visit was also the King & Queen’s 50th wedding anniversary, so the place was extra jammed with people! 

Botanical Gardens // it was maybe definitely a bad idea for us visit the Botanic Gardens when we did, as there was four too many drinks the previous night & the sheer heat inside the glasshouse nearly killed us both. It’s this huge big beautiful old greenhouse that makes you feel like you’re walking through the forest & there’s this gorgeous cast-iron spiral staircase that leads you up to a top level so you can walk amongst the super tall plants (which was definitely the worst idea we had ever because there was even less air up there). After our glasshouse experience we spent some time breathing in some quality fresh air in the gardens, which were most delightful. 

Krusemyntegade // you might find yourself wondering why on earth I’m recommending you visit a random road well out of the city. Well, if you’re anything like me (or half of the other people on Instagram), then this is definitely a road you’ll want to see. We affectionately started to refer to it as Instagram Road - pastel colours as far as the eye can see, roses crawling up the side of nearly every house, bikes parked nonchalantly all over the place, & an odd bench here & there for sitting back & taking it all in. It’s basically Copenhagen’s version of St. Luke’s Mews.

The Little Mermaid // what trip to Copenhagen would be complete without getting to visit The Little Mermaid? She’s located a bit further afield than most of the other attractions, but just think of it as a Hans Christian Anderson type pilgrimage. Of course, the statue is a huge attraction in the city, so don’t expect to have her all to yourself - I took five photos during our time there: in three of the photos it looks like she’s being attacked by a swarm of tourist canoe boat-ers, there are some miscellaneous heads popping up in two of them, & in the last one she’s (rather rudely) having her nipple tweaked by some drunken man.

Agnete & the Merman // you have to hunt this statue down - it is so cool! It’s a group of statues under the water at Slotsholm Canal & it never ceases to fascinate me. Hard to see on a sunny day, but so worth checking out. 

Nyhavn // we were pretty lucky during our visit, because we had to walk through Nyhavn basically anytime we wanted to get anywhere. There’s something magical about this old harbour - there’s jazz music & a nice atmosphere in the air at all times. It’s also one of those places you just have to visit to get that quintessential Copenhagen photo. 

Canal Tour // this was my second time doing a canal tour in Copenhagen & even this time around I loved every second. Our canal tour left from Nyhavn, where there are a couple of companies offering different routes. We did the standard one that brought us out & around Christianshavn, as well as past a few of the main attractions - Amelienborg Palace, the Opera House, the Black Diamond Library, & The Little Mermaid. 

Tivoli Gardens // a whole day out that is totally worth the money. There are (I think) a few different options for tickets, but we bought a band that gave us entry into the gardens, which means that you can sit around & relax & watch whatever ballet or folk dancing that happens to be on at the open air stages and also gave us unlimited rides on every ride in the park. The gardens themselves have peacocks roaming free, fairy lights strewn overhead, & plenty of restaurants, cafes, & bars to keep everyone happy. We spent our day working our way through the map of the rides, going back to the ones we liked 2-5 times (getting our money’s worth), drinking beer, watching ballet, & exploring the (small but cool) aquarium. 

Magstræde // no, this is not just another beautifully photogenic street, it is the oldest surviving street in Copenhagen. The street (which still has its original cobbling!) was two seconds from where we were staying, & we were entirely unable to pass up an opportunity to walk down it at every chance we had. 

Drink

Original Coffee // confession: good coffee shops are the first thing I investigate when planning my trips away. Original Coffee was top of my list, & we certainly weren’t disappointed. Added bonus: the branch at Illum shopping centre is located on the top floor, so you can sit outside & watch the world go by beneath you. 

Espresso Roasters // admittedly, the only reason we stopped into ER was because we had been traipsing all over town looking for a coffee shop that was meant to do the best cinnamon rolls ever, but we couldn’t find it & we were totally desperate & on the verge of becoming hangry. Turns out that the cinnamon rolls here are fab! Heated ever so slightly & perfectly spiced.

Husted Vin // we didn’t actually get to go to Husted Vin, but I’m adding it to the list because I want you to go & tell me how it is. Typically, the one day we had planned to go there it was closed, but it had been open every single time we’d walked past previously. 

Biergarten @ Tivoli Gardens // I’ve said it before & I’ll say it again: I have this thing with Germany, which pretty much means I love all things German, especially beer & pretzels. I’m only a little bit ashamed to tell you that we visited the Beirgarten twice during the handful of hours we spent at the Gardens - both times indulging in a 1/2 litre tankard of beer & just once devouring a hot freshly baked salty pretzel. We regret nothing. Added bonus: going on roller-coasters a little tipsy is the most fun thing to do ever! 

Eat

Sonny // we walked past this hipster looking cafe on our way into the city on our first morning & immediately made plans to go back for breakfast the next day. The interior is gorgeous, the menu is full of health options (as is every other menu in Copenhagen), the music is very hipster-chic, & the coffee is wonderful. Added bonus: they offer a jasmine & orange iced tea, which is totally amazing & definitely a good choice. 

Atelier September // similar to Sonny, the menu is full of health. We both opted for the ‘Grapefruit & Blueberries with granola’ breakfast, which certainly left me feeling healthy. Luckily, they also had croissants & poppy seed danishes pumped full of butter to cancel out the health side of things, & for this we were truly grateful. It’s worth visiting here to see the space alone -- a gorgeous open room with communal tables & an open work station -- but also for the amazing coffee & mismatching ceramics. 

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[ersonist]

where i would be if you hadn't found me

title: where I would be if you hadn’t found me

rating: t

word count: 6,359 (This was supposed to be a drabble, I don't know what happened.)

a/n: modern AU in which Jyn is secretly a sci-fi fan, Cassian works too much and somehow I still made it all angsty. Also went really meta, my apologies. No beta - I literally wrote it in one sitting at work to get it out of my system (who cares about deadlines, right? the correct answer is my boss actually...). Title’s from dodie’s sick of losing soulmates.

Written for RebelCaptain Appreciation Week, Day Four: AU of your choice || Writing Prompt: Nerve.

the original trilogy

She sees the leaflet pinned to the bulletin board outside her campus apartment. “May the Power be yours” it proclaims in bold, orange letters that the generations of geeks and movie buffs have come to know, love and incessantly quote out of context. She’s already late for her first morning class but she stops anyway, staring at it for a moment that is definitely longer than necessary to memorise all the details. She notices the same poster on her way back home and with a quick glance around she quietly rips it down and stuffs in her bag.

“There’s a Galactic Battles marathon organised next weekend,” she nonchalantly tells Bodhi while pouring a copious amount of milk into her tea, turning it meringue shade of white. The air is pleasantly cool that morning - a nice change from the recent heat of San Diego’s summer - so they keep the windows open, letting in the sounds of the life outside. Faint radio chatter, a dog barking in the distance. She takes a sip, stealing a glance at her friend from behind the oversized mug. He looks frozen, strawberry jam dripping from the knife in one hand, a piece of bread in the other.

“You want to go?” There’s a clear surprise in his voice, his breakfast already forgotten.

Jyn just shrugs, takes out the crumpled paper from the bag hanging on her chair and puts it between them on the table. It’s torn at the edge, cutting the word ‘yours’ in two.

“I thought... You know, you never mention him... it,” he corrects quickly avoiding her gaze.

There’s one last piece of toast left untouched on Bodhi’s plate and Jyn grabs it playfully just to prove how banal she finds this conversation. As if they’d talk about her dead father over a breakfast on regular basis. Her hand doesn’t even shake when she does it and she idly wonders if this is what moving on genuinely looks like.

“You’re a shrink now? This is not why I asked you to be my flatmate,” she quips with a forced grin that Bodhi pretends not to notice.

It’s because you’re the only family I have left, she wants to say but as always decides to keep to herself. They might be life-long friends but she’s nowhere near that level of sentimental. Besides, she’s pretty sure he knows that already.

Bodhi doesn’t dignify any of this with a comment. He just gives her a warm smile that reminds her of the rainy afternoons they spent building blanket forts in the living room of her parents’ London apartment. She can feel that empty ache again, closing her throat, threatening to spill a chocked sob at the memory of toy soldiers and Lego spaceships, and her parents bickering over whether Jaffa Cakes are biscuits or cakes. They have nothing on Anthon Berg, her father would always conclude with a laugh.

She finishes her tea in one gulp and wordlessly leaves the kitchen. When she comes back after the classes she finds the leaflet pinned to their fridge.

Turns out she doesn’t like movie marathons. Or maybe it’s because sci-fi tends to bring out the weirdest of people? For one, she’s one of the few people not in a costume. Even Bodhi, that traitor, borrowed a leather jacket to resemble the trilogy’s famous smuggler. Frankly Jyn has a feeling that this is just an additional point in the grand scheme of impressing some golden farmboy from his Aerospace Structures class. Of course the guy’s attendance that evening is purely coincidental as Bodhi assured her earlier and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

The hall is getting crowded, noisier by every minute and it’s clear that this old, artsy movie theatre is not used to such large audience. She almost feels sorry for the stone faced usher who is trying to control the situation. He doesn’t even flinch when the enthusiastic fans are waving those ridiculous plastic weapons over his head. He looks resigned and just as out of place as she feels.

“You don’t want a good seat?” She hears a voice behind her, the tone casual and friendly, and she groans at the thought of talking to some avid fanboy. She turns around with a heavy sigh and a scowl already firmly placed on her face. An older man with a white cane is definitely not the kind of person she expected though.

“It’s fine, my friend dragged me here. I don’t even like these that much,” she lies through her teeth but judging by the knowing smirk instantly appearing on his lips she obviously failed. It’s such a stupid thing to lie about as well and his amusement makes her feel a little ashamed. She mutters an apology and pushes through the crowd, shoving her ticket in the usher’s hand without as much as a second glance.

She almost gets to the end of the first movie but then they’re blowing up the Planet Killer and it’s the best part, Stardust, she can hear her father saying in a raspy, broken voice. And just like that she’s back in that hospital room, curled by his side, her laptop’s screen illuminating the room with a blueish tint, the noises of the ongoing battle drowning the steady beeping of the machines surrounding his bed.

You’re so silly, she’d force herself to mock him gently; by now nothing but a well-rehearsed routine shielding them from the unforgiving reality. He’d always chuckle at that, so she kept teasing until that late October night when everything stopped. The treatments, the machines, his heart, her heart, nothing but pouring rain soundtracking their sudden silence. One week after the funeral she packed up nothing more than a handful of necessities and her mom’s necklace, and moved halfway across the planet to start over.

She tries to focus on a different memory but it’s too late. She feels an incessant pressure on her chest, her breath uneven. It’s too much. She stands up, the row behind her already snickering angry remarks, Bodhi mouthing a worried “you ok?”. She nods and gives him a feeble smile that comes out more like a grimace.

“Stay. I just need some air,” she whispers to him while gathering her things.

The hall is empty save for the usher leaning against the wall, carefully avoiding a framed “In the Heat of the Sun” poster. She looks around, itching to run home to lock herself in her bedroom and muffle a cry with that ridiculous smiley face pillow that Bodhi got her as a house-warming gift.

“You’re missing the best part,” the usher tells her quietly, his eyes never leaving the pages of the book he’s reading. She sneaks a peek at the cover - A Theory of Justice. Now that she sees him closer she realizes he’s older than she first thought - 25, maybe 26. Dark floppy hair, thin lips and tired eyes. He’s a welcomed distraction.

“The second movie is better anyway,” she replies with a quick shrug. She has approximately 3 minutes left before the first part ends and she’ll have to face people. It’s better if she pretends to be unaffected than to make Bodhi worry. He’s too caring and she feels like every day spent with her and her demons destroys him piece by piece.

The usher mutters something under his breath and puts the book aside. His face is that of a careful neutrality.

“This is the one that started it all, though. The beginning of the whole story,” his voice is now clearer, his accent more pronounced.

“There’s nothing that exciting about beginnings. Nor the endings to be honest,” she muses, her gaze lingering, judging the weariness of his features, the dark lashes and the light stubble. “It’s the stuff in between that counts.”

He tilts his head and gives her the tiniest of smirks that her traitorous mind catalogues as oddly attractive. But before either of them can say anything else all the doors open and the swarm of filmgoers floods the hall.

the prequels

For someone who was literally non-existent in her life prior that weekend she finds herself bumping into the guy on regular occasions. She now knows he also works in that coffee place that sells more of overpriced sugary concoctions than actual coffee which for some reason appeals to tipsy Bodhi (Coconut milk chocolate cherry latte with a foam bunny, Jyn! A foam bunny!). She sees him with a bag of groceries across the street and deduces he must be living somewhere near the Krav Maga school she goes to on Wednesday evenings. She notices him having a late lunch with Leia, the twin sister of the guy that Bodhi’s crushing on (and still vehemently denies it). He goes to Farmers Market on Saturday mornings and actually smirks at her over a stack of organic lettuce. It’s unsettling and Jyn ends up going home huffing in annoyance, two small tomatoes and a sole carrot in her tote bag. He’s suddenly everywhere and she doesn’t know what to do with it. Her social circle begins and ends with Bodhi, and this seems like an unwarranted addition. They’re not friends, they’re not even acquaintances. Exchanging hellos would be too much and yet every time she spots him she carefully appraises such option.

A couple of weeks of this game ends abruptly with a bouncy Bodhi and another leaflet. 

“They’re marathoning the prequels this Friday,” he interrupts her dinner by dropping the piece of paper on the table. It almost falls into her plate of microwaved noodles and she shoves it aside with a frown.

“Don’t care about the prequels,” she grunts.

“Exactly!” Bodhi exclaims as if this was actually good news. “There are no memories attached to those. Nothing but pure fun and admittedly a lot of bad dialogue.”

Jyn eyes him warily.

“Cassian thought you might want to go,” he finally adds off-handedly before taking a can of soda out of the fridge and sitting down across a very confused Jyn.

“I don’t know any Cassians,” she scoffs, her gaze involuntarily lingering on the leaflet.

“Sure you do,” he tells her with the maddening confidence that Jyn associates with the most terrible of their plans. Like when they were 14 and tried to climb onto his parents’ balcony because he lost his keys. “He says you’ve been stalking him lately or something.”

He lets out a small chuckle at Jyn’s vexed face before pointing to the leaflet with a short explanation, “He works there.”

The usher. Of course. She rolls her eyes and aggressively ignores the warm feeling at finally knowing the guy’s name. 

She quickly realises it’s a lost battle. Once Bodhi has an idea she can protest all she wants but in the end she always agrees. She blames his stupid puppy eyes.

This is how she finds herself standing outside that cinema a good hour before the first film even starts. Cassian, she purposefully repeats his name in her head, told them to drop by earlier so they can skip the queue but he still hasn’t let them inside. She leans against the ticket booth and makes small talk with Leia who in a few colourful sentences explains her non-relationship with the guy they’re still waiting for. Usually Jyn wouldn’t care about anyone’s heartaches but Leia’s range of insults is frankly impressive. The guy finally shows up and Jyn quickly steps aside as if she’d be caught in the crossfire otherwise. She looks affectionately at Bodhi, too busy fumbling on words to realise Luke’s small blush and eager eyes, and when Cassian finally unlocks the doors her heart is filled with something closely resembling fondness for these people.

“Hey,” he greets them quietly. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, dark circles under his eyes, cracked lips and that unruly lock of hair that Jyn briefly wants to brush from his forehead only to remember they don’t even know each other. Not officially. Not yet.

“Hey, Cassian,” she replies just as quietly, testing the way his name feels on her tongue.

“Jyn,” he nods.

She doesn’t think anyone from their little group realise how monumental this feels to her.

There are two other people already inside the hall, one of them struggling to hang a large vintage poster, the other giving him directions with a laugh.

“The owners,” Cassian explains. “They can be a bit... peculiar.”

“He thinks he’s being funny, the old fool,” the larger of the two grunts, leaving the slightly crooked frame as it is. “Right, left, no, your left. Hilarious, Chirrut. You’re such a comedian.”

Chirrut, whom Jyn recognises as the guy with the white cane from the other night, lets out a loud laugh before joining the group.

“We heard that, Cassian!” he says teasingly. “By the way when Baze said we needed to sell more tickets, he didn’t mean to literally fill the audience with your friends.”

“Did they even pay for the tickets?” The other owner, Baze, asks with a pointed look.

“You should be paying us to watch these,” Jyn mutters before she can stop herself.

“Very true, little sister,” Chirrut cackles. “Cassian, find the best seat for her. Popcorn’s on us.”

The evening turns out to be as much fun as Bodhi promised. With a less crowded theater and no emotional attachment, Jyn finds herself enjoying it surprisingly more than she thought she would. Leia and Han argue all through the first two films, only to end up making out during the last one. Luke switches places after that, mumbling something about needing a therapy and Bodhi eagerly joins him. And Jyn finds herself waiting for the intermissions so she can catch a glimpse of the silent guy who’s not even her friend. She’s too good at denial to admit it, so she concludes it’s a side effect of being lonely. She just craves human interaction and someone as quietly intense as Cassian seems like a good challenge. She steps into the hall and her eyes lock on his silhouette almost immediately. There’s a certain gravity to everything he does; the way he moves, stealthily and purposefully, like he can’t afford any additional gestures. A carefully constructed illusion of detachment with just a hint of something softer, sadder. She struggles not to find him intriguing.

“He looks exhausted,” Chirrut appears out of nowhere, concern clear in his voice.

“How-” she tries to ask but he cuts her off with a chuckle.

“Just because I’m blind doesn’t mean I can’t see it,” he tells her with a challenging gleam in his pale eyes.

Jyn tries to come up with an appropriate reply to that, something that wouldn’t make her sound like the biggest asshole who puts down a disabled person.

Before she can formulate her own thoughts a gruffy voice belonging to Baze helps her out - “That’s exactly what it means.”

Chirrut dismisses him with an easy laugh and a shake of his head. This is a routine for them, she realises with affection. She remembers her own parents and their bickering, smooth and familiar, creating that little bubble of pure happiness she now misses so much.

“He should quit that second job,” Baze declares pensively, his eyes assessing Cassian’s current state. “That kid will work himself to death.”

“We don’t pay him enough for that,” Chirrut reminds him, not unkindly, and it’s clearly a conversation they’ve had before. He sighs softly, their small chat turning a bit too private, too intense for Jyn to witness. She doesn’t know Cassian, not really. She shouldn’t be listening to any of this.

“No one wants to watch Chirrut’s selection of foreign documentaries,” Baze whispers to her with a conspirational wink but she can hear a note of regret. 

“Cassian will help us to steer this place in the more profitable direction,” Chirrut’s optimism is infectious, a small smile already slipping into place on Jyn’s lips. “He can help us crush the evil multiplexes!”

After that evening, Cassian and that odd couple become somewhat of a fixture in Jyn’s increasingly changing life. They’re not exactly friends, the don’t really talk, they don’t call each other to complain about their respective lives but there’s a quickly installed degree of trust that still amazes her. She drops by the movie theater a couple of times per week now, rarely for any cinematic reason although she tries. She sits through a “Retrospective of the 50s Asian Cinema”, attended by all of 12 people, 7 of them seemingly Chirrut and Baze’s friends. They screen an old kung fu film one Tuesday afternoon and she’s literally the only person there before Cassian caves in and joins her. They spend the rest of that day trying to repeat the moves they’ve seen, out of breath and almost giddy, cheered on by a grinning Chirrut. It feels like home again and it’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

She knows it won’t last.

Luke drags them to his favourite fast food joint one evening. The three of them wait patiently for Cassian to finish his shift, Bodhi smirking at her in a way that spells Trouble. With capital T. The last time she saw that look on his face, he was trying to set her up with a fellow student. The lovely guy turned out to be engaged and very much in love with his fiancée. Bodhi officially sucks at matchmaking.

“What?” She finally snaps, whispering just in case.

“I’m just glad Cassian could join us,” Bodhi replies innocently and Jyn wants to murder him. It’s a trap. A fucking double date if she sees one.

The place turns out to be a hole in the wall, in some ways quite literally, but the burgers are good and the wobbly table they find outside gives them enough of privacy to chat in peace. Luke’s talking animatedly about an aviation project he wants to work on and the conversation almost immediately steers towards their future plans.

“Jyn’s still undeclared,” Bodhi cuts in as though Jyn was unable to admit it out loud.

“I’m just considering all my options,” she explains defiantly, her chin jutting high and her arms crossed. “Who knows what will happen. The world’s a mess, I might end up a petty criminal or something.”

“You hear that, Cassian? Here’s your first client!” Bodhi exclaims with a small punch to Cassian’s arm.

She steals a glance at Cassian and his usually blank face has a hint of a blush.

“You’re planning on being a cop?” She asks jokingly with a sudden realisation that she doesn’t even know that, that she never bothered to ask him about his plans.

“Lawyer,” he clarifies, his eyes stubbornly avoiding hers.

“Great,” she snorts dismissively at that and she can feel an abrupt change in the mood, like something unexpectedly charged the air with an unwanted tension.

“What’s wrong with lawyers?” Cassian crosses his arms defensively, leaning against the back of his chair, his shoulders growing stiff.

“Nothing,” she frowns at him while mirroring his pose. “It’s just not very noble. I thought you wanted to change the world or something. You seem like the type.”

“Do I now?” Jyn notices a coldness to his voice she’s never heard before. “And I can’t do that as a lawyer?”

“Oh I’m sure you can save a few scums,” she fires back, fuelled by the furore his words start to provoke. “The guy who killed my mum had an excellent one. By the end of that trial you’d think she purposefully threw herself under his car.”

“So one British asshole makes all of the profession evil?” His voice is getting louder, the accent thicker.

“There are jokes about lawyers going to hell for a reason,” she scoffs because it’s too late now. She’s nothing if not determined, even if it’s in hurting someone.

“Wow, Jyn. If I’m such a monster why are you even here,” Cassian‘s words are sharp, calculated, shooting through her like bullets. “Grow up. You’re not the only one who lost someone.”

He rises from his chair, tossing a few crumpled bills on the table, and leaves. Jyn stubbornly sits still.

the new trilogy

Jyn decides she’s a terrible person. It’s official. She knows she’s good at pushing people away but she never did that as spectacularly and over such a stupid thing as she did with Cassian. Sadly just because she realises certain things doesn’t mean she knows how to make it better.  Everything becomes awkward after that night and for the first time in her life Jyn cares enough to wanting to fix it. She knows she owes Cassian an apology or at least a talk to clear the air but every time she comes to his workplace he seems to be miraculously absent. Finally Baze takes pity on her and gives her a scrap of paper with something scribbled on it in light green ink.

“It’s his home address. I don’t know what happened but Chirrut says you two need to talk.”

She keeps it in the front pocket of her jeans for a day. There are two possible outcomes in her mind, both leaving her anxious: he can either shut the door in her face or they can talk it out. She’s just not sure if she’s ready for either. She clearly hit a nerve when they argued and she spent a good chunk of her time overanalyzing everything he said. She always knew there was much more to him than he was letting people see, she just didn’t recognise the extend of damage. She should have, though. She’s been there before.

She spends an entire evening mulling over that until Bodhi finally shoves her off their couch with a firm “fix it.”

She notices a DVD of the first part of the new Galactic Battles trilogy and on an impulse she takes it with her. It’s the lamest of excuses she could ever come up with but it gives her unexpected confidence.

Judging by his state, he clearly didn’t expect any guests. He’s dishevelled, dressed in an old t-shirt and sweatpants under a ridiculous yellow apron, his hands covered in flour.

“You cook,” she states lamely and cringes as soon as she hears herself say it. She shifts awkwardly and holds the DVD up for him to see. It’s a peace offering and an apology all in one and she silently begs for him to understand that. He thankfully seems to get it because he finally gestures for her to come inside, shutting the door behind her with a small kick.

“TV’s over there,” he points to the small room on her left. “I just need to finish this quickly.”

She nods, already looking around his place with an unabashed curiosity. It’s the first time she’s been here and it’s not what she expected. The room’s almost empty, save for some old furniture and books lined on a shelf in what seems to be an alphabetical order. There’s nothing that reminds her of Cassian though, no item that Jyn would judge as personal, as a of value to him. It’s a sad apartment, cold and impersonal. She sighs and kneels in front of the DVD player searching for the remote control. It’s only then that she notices a skinny black cat perched on the edge of the table.

“Hey, kitty,” she says, hesitantly extending her arm to pet it.

The cat crouches, its yellow eyes unnervingly fixed on her, its long tail twitching. And then it pounces.

“Your cat just scratched me,” she complains immediately once Cassian appears in the room, two bottles of beer in his now flour-free hands.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes looking with a fond exasperation at the hissing creature. “Kay doesn’t like people.”

He hands her one of the bottles and settles on the shabby dark couch.

“People or just me,” Jyn mutters but nods in understanding anyway. She scoots closer to Cassian’s spot on the sofa and stares at the cat with a pointed expression - a fleeting thought that challenging a pet over its owner’s affection is a tad childish. Also she doesn’t even like Cassian like that. Nope. She shifts to move away and she swears the cat looks at her triumphantly.

“Cassian, I-”

“Don’t, ok?” He interrupts her pleadingly. There’s a new-found vulnerability to him as if she discovered already more than he wanted her to. She’s just an intruder in this crappy, small apartment that shows her more about him than she bargained for. Maybe she is the one who has it easy. In the end her parents left her comfortably settled in life, armed with soft memories of love and tenderness that she chose to ignore, too focused on her anger to remember. Does he have any of that?

“Gracias,” she declares instead with ridiculous pride pointing to her beer. 

“Is that all you know in Spanish?” Cassian grins at her and Jyn instantly decides she missed it. It looks good on him.

“Don’t mock me! I had French in school,” she huffs faux hurt. “I’ve never been to Mexico. How is it?”

“Depends,” he replies non-committally but doesn’t offer any further explanation and Jyn doesn’t dare to ask.

“I’ve only been to Spain. Well... Ibiza, actually,” she explains a little embarrassed. “It’s like a rite of passage for European youth.”

“How did you like it?” Cassian seems amused by the turn of their conversation and Jyn lets out a long sigh.

“Got sunburn on my first day and lost my wallet two days after that,” she finally recalls with a laugh. “Bodhi had fun, though.”

They settle into their old routine after that, comfortable and reassuring. Cassian brings them food and teaches her the ingredients in Spanish, gently mocking her terrible pronunciation. Neither of them comments on how domestic this all feels.

Halfway through the movie Cassian brings out a bottle of tequila.

“We had Mexican food, this is the obvious next step,” he explains with a grin.

Two shots later the movie becomes nothing but a background noise and she catches him observing her with a new intensity.

“My parents died when I was six,” he confesses after shot number four, his eyes slightly glazed over. She takes a quick gulp and then wordlessly hands him the bottle. He talks about shattered childhood and running away and working, constantly working, just to pay his rent, his food, his school. She tells him about a witty mother who just wanted to cross the street and a nerdy father who gave up. It’s only fair.

When there’s nothing left in the bottle and the DVD keeps playing the title menu on repeat, she leans her heavy head on his shoulder and takes his hand in hers, slowly tracing each knuckle with a fingertip. He slurs something in Spanish, her name being the only sound she recognizes. She looks up and his face is so close, their noses almost touching.

His lips are soft and he tastes like alcohol and it burns so brightly, so beautifully. And then it all goes black.

She wakes up confused, her head pounding. She dimly notes she needs to evaluate the situation before panic starts to set in for good. She’s warm and probably safe, tucked under a worn-out blanket, still wearing all of her clothes. One of her feet sticks out and when she wiggles it she notices the additional weight around her. Cassian lies behind her, his arm draped around her waist, his nose pressed in the crook of her neck. He snores softly, his breath hot on her skin. She untangles herself from his still form and quietly moves to put her shoes on. She spots Kay sitting in the hall, eyeing her every movement carefully and slightly judgementally. She’s halfway through the door when she hears Cassian groan. She freezes, unsure on what to do, Kay already meowing accusingly in her direction. She quietly goes back to the hall. She can see Cassian dropping his head into the palms of his hands, letting out a string of curses. 

“I work today,” he croaks miserably, more to himself than anyone. Jyn doesn’t think he even realises she’s standing there, watching him.

Not until he looks right at her.

“Jyn, about last night-” he starts hesitantly.

“Don’t worry about it. We all know tequila is evil,” she laughs and the sound is ugly to her ears. “It’s fine. Really.”

She throws a quick “see you later” already fleeing the room. She ignores his worried glance as she grabs her jacket and runs out of his apartment.

It’s fine, she tells herself all the way back home.

It’s not fine.

She figures it out pretty much the second she locks herself in her bedroom, carefully avoiding Bodhi on her way in. It meant something to her, she knows that, but dealing with messy feelings is the last thing on the list of things Jyn knows how to handle. Avoiding him would be near impossible. She tried that already anyway. Talking seems too terrifying. She has no idea how he feels. It could’ve been just a fluke, a lapse of judgement helped by that fucking alcohol. Jyn heard quite a few tequila related stories, always ending with regrets and terrible headaches and even worse heartaches. She just never thought she’d live one herself. 

She takes a deep breath and admits she might actually need an advice. She mentally goes through the list of all her friends slightly shocked she has more than one now. Bodhi would normally be her first choice but he’s still in his honeymoon phase of the relationship with Luke and Jyn doesn’t want to burden him with her mess. Chirrut and Baze are too intuitive, too involved, simply too close to Cassian. She finally settles for Leia, currently running an all-time record of 8 days without a fight with Han. That’s gotta count for something, right?

That Friday aftertoon Jyn lies upside down on her couch, toes lightly touching the wall behind it, a half-written paper on her chest. Inviting a confused Leia to a study session seemed like a brilliant idea, except for one major flaw - them not sharing a single class. She comes over anyway and Jyn shows her awkwardly the apartment before gesturing to the living room table currently occupied by Bodhi’s supposedly revolutionary plane model and a selection of their unfinished papers mixed with (hopefully) paid bills. Leia graciously pushes it all aside before setting her laptop and quietly getting to work. Jyn drops on the couch with resignation.

20 minutes later she still hasn’t manage to approach the subject.

“We kissed,” she finally blurts out and looks at Leia expectantly.

And waits. And waits some more. Frankly she’s a bit annoyed by Leia’s lack of reaction.

“Ok,” Leia eventually mumbles and Jyn’s not even sure if she’s talking to her or just commenting the research she’s currently reading.

“Did you hear me? Cassian kissed me,” Jyn repeats with a huff and moves off the couch so she can face Leia properly.

“So?”

This is all going horribly wrong.

“That’s usually how people behave in relationships,” Leia explains to her as if she were a three-year-old eating a crayon.

Jyn scowls with a curse under her breath.

“Oh,” Leia’s eyes widen almost comically in shock. “I honestly thought you two were-”

“We’re not,” she cuts in drily. She picks at the leftover piece of cheesecake that Leia brought, this whole conversation turning into an unanticipated nightmare.

“But you’re always together,” Leia tries again, more gently this time.

“It’s called being friends,” Jyn replies, letting out an exhale of frustration. 

“Do you want him to be more than a friend?”

Jyn looks around helplessly as if by some miracle someone would come over and answer on her behalf.

“Turns out we’re both kind of a mess,” she ends up confiding. It’s not exactly an answer to Leia’s question but it’s as close as Jyn can get to one.

Leia closes her laptop and folds her arms, nodding pensively.

“So you’re both fucked up, but honestly, do you know anyone who isn’t?” She asks bluntly.

“You?”

Leia giggles at that: “You actually think anyone sane would date Han?”

Jyn can’t help but smirk at her answer. 

“Did my brother ever mention our parents?” She steals a spoonful of cake from Jyn’s plate and ponders her words carefully. “They were childhood sweethearts, king and queen of the prom, thick as thieves and all that crap. Fast forward a few years and a set of twins and you get the messiest of divorces you can imagine. They even Parent Trap-ed us for a while. Without the summer camp part. Or the happy ending.”

“That’s a terrible example,” Jyn almost whines. “How is that supposed to reassure me?”

“It’s not,” Leia replies frankly, waving at her with the now empty spoon before grabbing another bite. “What I’m trying to say is that relationships are messy and they’re hard work and sometimes they fail. But sometimes they succeed, too. And when they do, you know they were worth the risk.”

“This is a Hallmark level of platitude,” Jyn points out, her disappointment more than obvious.

“Probably,” Leia agrees pleasantly. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Fine,” Jyn gives up if anything just to end this awkward talk. “So what now?”

“Just let it happen? I don’t know, Jyn,” Leia shrugs. “I’m not exactly an expert.”

She reopens her laptop as if the whole conversation never happened and Jyn is left alone with her thoughts again.

Jyn is not a patient person and waiting for something to happen doesn’t exactly sit well with her. But all of her usual methods clearly failed and she’s out of useful defensive mechanisms so maybe Leia’s advice is not that bad. It probably is, she thinks deep down, after all Leia is spending most of her time arguing with her boyfriend.

Turns out there was no need for any of that painful chat because the next time she meets with Cassian he doesn’t mention what happened between them. He’s not awkward with her. He doesn’t try to explain. He doesn’t want to talk. Jyn’s torn between being relieved, disappointed and somewhat mad but she grits her teeth and goes with it. It’s probably for the best, she rationalises. And if they’re standing a bit closer and smile at each other more openly, well, it doesn’t need to mean anything. 

the standalone

He has about an hour before the first evening screening and the hall is still quiet, drowned in warm colours of the dusk. Jyn sits silently at the concession stand, her papers spilled all over the counter. He has no heart to tell her to clean it up and move, not when she looks so serene, illuminated by the sunset that brings out those reddish hues to her long hair.

“There’s the new Galactic Battles movie coming out next week,” he mentions over the first of the umpteen popcorn bags he will surely fill that evening. Movie theaters survive because of junk food, Baze once told him. People don’t care about films as much as they care about eating crap in the dark. Judging by the amount he serves every time he firmly believes there’s truth to that.

Jyn hums in agreement, absent-mindedly twirling a pencil in her slender fingers. Cassian often finds himself just watching her restless hands, imagining holding them in his rough palms.

He shakes his head at her silence and scoops another portion of popcorn.

“Renegades,” he looks up at the sound of her voice. “It’s the first standalone of the franchise.”

There’s a small smile tugging at her lips. He finds it mesmerizing.

“Second generation sci-fi geek, remember? Plus I don’t live under a rock,” she reminds him amused and goes back to her notes.

“Right,” he clears his throat embarrassed. “I know we never actually talked about... you know... but maybe you’d want to see it?” 

“With me, I mean,” he adds hastily.

Seconds are ticking by and the deafening silence makes him almost regret working up the nerve to ask her. It’s too late to take it back now, not with all the hopes it implies.

“It’s a date,” she finally murmurs softly and he’s amazed at how one simple sentence can permanently change someone’s world.

Turns out Renegades is not exactly a first date material. It’s good, hell, it’s more than just good but for two people too afraid to move past their respective traumas it’s hitting home a bit too close. Cassian pretends not to notice Jyn furiously blinking her tears away and he squeezes her hand reassuringly through the ending credits. She rewards him with a rare shy smile before they leave the cinema. They walk in odd silence after that, neither comfortable nor not. It’s only one block away from her place that Jyn abruptly stops. 

“This is stupid. I know it makes sense because original trilogy and reality of war and all that rubbish but-” she takes a deep breath and turns to face Cassian for the first time since they left the movies. “They deserved better, don’t you think?”

Cassian finds himself nodding, his gaze lingering on the fire in her eyes.

“They deserved a happy life not some bullshitty death on a lake shore,” Jyn continues her rambling and Cassian can’t help but smile softly at the way she wrinkles her nose. “Can you believe she didn’t even kiss him? She should’ve kissed him. And something must have happened between them before that battle. There’s no way one minute she almost kills his father and the next it’s all forgiven and forgotten.”

When she stops her face is flushed and she holds his gaze, intense and warm. He bites his lip in anticipation. This is real life, there’s no Planet Killer looming over, threatening to take away their chance at happiness.

“There’s nothing more regretful than almost love,” she whispers and finally, finally, her voice has that hint of hope he dreamt of hearing.

So he kisses her.

The end.

Hi lovely people! I haven’t written anything in a very very long time and I’m sorry for this being kind of rubbish I just really wanted to contribute. Hope you enjoyed it anyway. 

(jfc this was terrifying to post.)

[juniperhillpatient]

Chapter 6 of my ReggieRonnie fic ;) 

Get caught up HERE  

Chapter summary: I decided Reggie and the gang need to mend their problems too. Also, some emo Reggie/Midge stuff happens 

Warnings: I guess I should up the rating to PG-13 for language, neglect/abuse mentions, and underage drinking 

Author's note: 1) I decided to start this one with a quote like I did the first chapter. I'm a fan of doing that. And don't lie, Toxic Valentine is totally a Reggie/Midge song. 2) I promise the next chapter is going to be Veronica centric if you bear with me. 3) Thank you to everyone that is reading this! ILY 

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"Sex and white lies, handcuffs and alibis, she lays her halo on the pillow as she sleeps, her heart beats red wine." 

-All Time Low, Toxic Valentine 

Damn it. 

This was supposed to be over. 

She was an addiction. Cruel words, dark hair, and a smile filled with deceptive innocent - God why was she so irresistible? 

Midge was asleep, her head leaning against Reggie's shoulder, the two of them smashed together on the couch. Why bother going all the way up to the bedroom when they were both too tipsy to walk properly and it didn't matter because no one was ever home. She looked so innocent in sleep. Who was he kidding? She always looked innocent, careful to play the good girl, always sweet and helpless. A devil in angel's clothes. 

The almost empty bottle of red wine lay there beside the bed. He didn't need it, but he picked it up and poured the bittersweet contents down his throat. 

He felt sick. 

A memory he didn't want to think about filled his spinning mind, drowning him. Veronica's wise words "maybe no more underage drinking for you." Or something like that. She had been right. It never ended well. 

Who cared, though? His parents? He actually laughed out loud a little at that thought. Veronica? She hated him now. Archie? Jughead? Their friendship wasn't exactly what it used to be. He missed them. They'd had a hell of a good time fishing and building tree houses as kids. Hell, he even missed Bready Pooper a little. 

"Reggie?" Midge asked without opening her eyes or moving. He pulled her a little closer to him, loving the feeling of her perfect frame against him. 

"Yeah?" 

"You still awake?" 

"No," he said with a laugh, stroking her hair. Her words were slurred. She was further gone than he was. 

"I'm sorry." 

"For what?" 

"Making you..." she trailed off. 

"Don't worry babe," he said kissing her hair, "there was no consent issue here." 

"No," she said. "Not that. Making you feel...Like I do." 

"What are you talking about?" Suddenly he didn't feel so buzzed anymore. He poured the last of the wine down his throat and tossed the empty bottle to the floor. He didn't want to hear whatever she had to say. 

"You know," she said. "Like nothing." 

"Mantle the Magnificent has never felt like nothing," he said. "I'm the best and I know it, so please don't even worry your pretty little head about that." 

He was cold all of a sudden, and pulled the throw blanket they were sharing tighter around them. 

"It's just...Sometimes," she said, burying her face against his chest. This wasn't right. 

They were supposed to use handcuffs and cruel words to get off and feed each other's darkest fantasies, not talk about feelings. 

"Sometimes," Midge continued, and he wished she would stop "Its like I have to reassure myself, that I have options you know?" 

"Thanks," he muttered dryly."You're doing a great job of not making me feel like nothing." 

"I didn't mean it that way." 

"Sure," he stood up and the room was spinning. "Whatever. I have to go." 

"What?" she asked, sitting up on the couch, staring at him with those wide eyes that made him want to stay. 

"Yeah," he said, grabbing his clothes off the floor and pulling on his jeans. 

The room was spinning and Midge's face was blurred. All he knew was that he needed to get out of here. He didn't want to hear any more of what she had to say. Options. Great. Wasn’t that all he ever was though? An option? A second choice to the Ginger King? 

"Reggie," she said, standing and immediately falling back onto the couch in a sitting position. "Where the hell are you going?" 

"I don't know," he said, pulling his shirt over his head. 

"It's the middle of the night!" she protested, trying and failing again to stand up. 

He ignored her, walking out and slamming the door behind him. 

The world was swaying back and forth as he made his way down the sidewalk, trying to stay in a standing position. 

He wasn't sure how long he had been walking when someone grabbed his shoulder. He looked up and a spinning face glared back at him. 

Great. The last person he wanted to see. 

Perfect blonde ponytail, furious face, and hands on her hips. 

"Ugh," he grumbled. "What the hell do you want?" 

"I could ask you the same thing," Betty snapped, both her hands on his shoulders. "What are you doing here?" 

"Where?" he muttered, trying to push her hands off of him. 

"Stop it!" she said, sounding worried, "I'm holding you up." 

"Oh." He realized with a sinking sensation that it was true. 

How the hell he had been walking was unclear because he realized that Betty's hands on his shoulders were the only thing keeping him vertical. The sidewalk felt like it was rocking and the cookie cutter houses surrounding them were sort of blurry. He tried to focus on Betty's face to keep from passing out. 

"You're almost at Veronica's house. The same place I was headed with this," she held up a grocery bag which Reggie could see was filled with tubs of ice cream. 

"God," he muttered. "You're so fucking annoying." 

"Thanks," she said, rolling her eyes and catching him as he almost toppled. 

"Why do you have to be so perfect? Ugh, Veronica is lucky to have a friend like you." 

"You're damn right she is," Betty said. "Now come on, you're not going to Veronica's house. I'm taking you home." 

"Probably for the best," he admitted. 

Betty wrapped an arm around his waist and he put an arm around her shoulder for support as she turned to walk back the other way. 

"Thanks, Betty," he said to break the silence. 

"Oh," she laughed in that crazy way that girls sometimes laughed at him, "This is not for you - you, you, jerk. I just don’t want Veronica to have to see you like this.” 

“I love it," he said with a laugh. "You're too nice to even come up with a proper insult." 

"We did use to be friends, Reggie," Betty reminded him. 

"Yeah," he agreed, leaning against her. The world was getting hazier. "I miss that." 

She sighed as they made a turn and he almost stumbled into the street. "Look, Reggie," she said. "You could still be friends with us you know. Me, Archie, Jughead and even Veronica once you give her sometimes. It’s just that you need to stop treating us like dirt."

He had to laugh at that, and then he couldn't stop. She stopped walking and Reggie fell on his ass on the sidewalk, still laughing. Oh, that was too good. Did she really think that way?

"What is so funny?" she glared down at him. 

"You really think we all stopped being friends because I treated you guys like dirt? That's so," he shook his head, "That's such a Betty thing to think." 

"And why is that?" 

"You're such a god damn angel. All hail Betty Cooper, she's never done anything wrong in her life, ever." 

She sat down on the sidewalk next to him, and looked at him in a way she hadn't before. She was thinking hard about something. Reggie had stopped laughing and he was starting to worry he had pushed her too far and she was going to leave him here on the sidewalk to find his own way home or sleep here. It wouldn't be the first time he had woken up somewhere ridiculous after a night with Midge. 

"So what's your version?" she asked. 

"You're really asking?" 

"Its not like I'll ever get sober Reggie to talk about this like an actual human being with emotions so yeah, I'm really asking." 

"You were a total cunt to me when were kids!" she gasped at the word, and hit him ont the shoulder, hard. "Ow!" he glared at her, and she just glared back, waiting. "It was always" he imitated her voice, high pitched and annoying "OH Little Archie is so good at this! Oh little Archie is so perfect! Wow I worship little Archie! The ground he walks on is golden! You could never measure up Reggie!" 

"I didn't mean it like that," Betty said. "I always had a crush on Archie. You know that. Besides, we were kids." 

"Oh so that stopped when we hit high school did it?" 

"Fair point," Betty sighed, leaning back with her hands behind her. "I'm sorry, okay? Genuinely, Reggie, I never meant to be a bully. But what about Veronica? She did the exact same thing and you never hated her the way you did me. Or maybe you did and that's why you hurt her." 

"Whoa!" he said, holding up a hand. "I never meant to hurt Veronica okay." He shook his head, looking up at the night sky. 

It was a clear night and the stars shown down on them. It reminded him of the "camp outs" he Archie, Jughead, Betty and Veronica had tried to have as kids in Archie's backyard. They had even made little campfires and roasted marshmallows. He and Ronnie had always ended up sleeping inside, complaining of being uncomfortable, or cold, or bitten by bugs. Once they were inside though they had each admitted to each other that it was really because they were scared of the dark. He wondered if she remembered that. 

"I hated you because you're the one who kicked me out of the group," he said. 

"What?" Betty asked, looking genuinely surprised. Did she really not remember? 

"Yeah," he said, looking at her confused face and trying to decide if her innocence was feigned or not. "You blamed me for knocking Archie into the water on that fishing trip, remember? You made it seem like I tried to kill the guy." 

"Reggie," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder, and looking at him so hard he was forced to make eye contact with her. "I'm sorry, okay? You helped me save him. I was just a kid, and I was upset. I know you would never mean to hurt Archie."

"Do you?" he asked. Did he even know that much himself? It had all been so long ago. Maybe subconsciously, he had meant to knock Archie into the water. He pushed that thought away. No. He wouldn't do that....Right?

"Of course. I can't believe you hated me for that all these years." 

"Well you kinda left me with nothing Betts," he said. Betts? So he was using his old nickname for her now? What? He must really be drunk. 

"With nothing? What does that mean?"

"Nevermind." 

"I know your parents aren't the b-" 

"Hey weren't you going to walk me home?" he interrupted her. God he did not need Miss Perfect's fucking sympathy. No way. 

"Right," she said, standing and offering him a hand up. 

They resumed their position from before and continued walking. His head was a little clearer from the night air and all the walking, but he still leaned against Betty for support. 

"Here we are," Betty said as she lead him to the porch. 

"Oh shit," Reggie said as Betty helped him up the stairs. 

"What?" 

"I just remembered." 

"What is it?" 

"Midge." 

"Oh no," Betty groaned, staring at him. "Reggie please tell me Midge is not in there."

"Big time." 

"Damn it," she sighed, pulling out her phone and dialing. 

"What are you doing?" 

"I'm calling Archie," she said, holding the phone to her ear. "Maybe if you're very lucky, he'll let you stay with him." 

About ten minutes later they were sitting on the porch steps waiting as Archie pulled into the driveway. 

This was so embarrassing. 

"You dick," Archie said, grabbing Reggie by the arm. 

"Hey to you too, Carrot top." 

"Shut up," Archie said, yanking Reggie down the porch steps and to the car. "Get in," he opened the back door and Reggie stumbled in, Betty climbing in after him.

"Sup," Jughead's voice came from the passenger's side.

Reggie groaned as Jughead turned around to wave a single hand at him, looking smug. 

"Did you have to bring Sweeney Todd?" Reggie asked, crossing his arms and pouting like a kid as Jughead smirked at him. 

"We were already hanging out," Archie said as he pulled out of the driveway. "I'm not ditching my best friend because you're an idiot. I'm going to Veronica's to pick her up and we're all going to Pop's." 

"You've got to be kidding me," Betty yelled, and Reggie grimaced, leaning away from her. God did she have to be so shrill? 

"We're supposed to be friends," Archie said. "All of us. This is ridiculous, and we're settling it." 

"Couldn't we settle it tomorrow?" Betty asked, huffing, "Veronica doesn't want to see Reggie right now, and especially not in this state." 

"Well my parents are home and they definitely really don't need to see him in this state," Archie argued as he made a turn that left Reggie feeling ill.

Betty couldn't seem to think of a comeback to that so she just sat there, tightening her ponytail repeatedly like a manic mess. 

Archie pulled into the driveway to Lodge manor. It felt like forever ago that Reggie had come bringing flowers and begging Veronica for forgiveness. 

Archie left the car running as he made his way up to the porch to ring the doorbell. 

It wasn't until Veronica answered the door that Reggie realized he had been holding his breath in anticipation. 

[themartinsguide]

Hanoi - A slight change of pace

3 - 6 February 2017 We departed Luang Prabang relaxed, James a little tipsy, and (if we were the wishy-washy types) very 'zen'. This did not prepare us (Hannah in particular) for Hanoi and the semi-organised chaos that is the Hanoi Old Quarter, which makes downtown Bangkok seem sleepy and sedate. Our hotel, the 'Serenity Diamond' (ooh-la-la) was on the edge of a five way junction, which was the setting for a nice argument to start the next day. Leaving the hotel for a morning of strolling around a few museums, we were immediately confronted by 10 converging lanes of traffic, each with multiple sub-lanes of scooters, bicycles and pedalos, who all seemed intent on travelling as close as possible to the centre, before shying away from disaster at the last second. Hannah insisted on waiting for a gap. There wasn't one. James suggested that the best way was to walk out steadily and let the maelstrom weave past us. This was greeted by a sceptical look by Hannah but, after a fruitless further minute of waiting, reluctantly agreed to this approach. The weaving did not go as smoothly as James had hoped. Whether this was James' fault for not giving adequate notice of movements and failing to spot every possible hazard (a driving test nightmare), Hannah's fault for cursing James/Hanoi/scooters at full volume in James' ear, or every passing motorists's fault for not respecting WHITE LINES ON THE ROAD, is ultimately immaterial. Eventually, the road was safely crossed, and after a frank and robust discussion in the gutter, the following road crossing guidelines were set in motion: If a road is encountered that makes Hannah feel especially petrified for life and limb, Hannah will close her eyes, hold James by the arm, and upon his warning of "Ready? Right, off we go" will walk forward at a steady pace to the other side. James understands that in exchange for control (and no more frank and robust discussions), he accepts all intra-marital responsibility for injury or death (mental or physical). James' responsibility is voided however if Hannah chooses to open her eyes smack in the middle of ten lanes of speeding scooters, and yell "****,*****,*****" in his ear. Road crossing rules established, and perhaps some lessons for parents out there imparted, we set off for our first musuem, the Hoa Lo Prison (or the 'Hanoi Hilton'). Built in the late 1800s by the French it was used to imprison, brutalise and prepare for execution, Vietnamese revolutionaries. After the Geneva Peace talks in 1954 confirmed the existence of an independent Democratic Republic of Vietnam, the prison was taken over by the communist authorities. Interestingly, the museum history fails to mention what use the prison was put to for the next ten years. However, with the commencement of the American War (Vietnam War for the uneducated - like us), it was used to house downed US pilots, from where it would gain its nickname the 'Hanoi Hilton'. Surprisingly, their conditions appeared to be akin to a rather dull and long Christian Youth Camp with copious ball sports, plays and church services. However, being keen minds we suspected that some propaganda was at play here... Having been appraised of some of the less-savoury history of Vietnam, we happily trotted off to our next stop for some upbeat knowledge gathering, the Women's Museum. When we reached it though, James confessed that although it had been high on TripAdvisor's list of 'Things to Do' he had a suspicion it was primarily focused on the history of Vietnam as seen from the female viewpoint (i.e the kitchen), not on the female luminaries of Vietnamese history. We never did find out the truth though, as Hannah politely demurred on entering, as she did not feel it would be as interesting as the last landmark. So instead we went to a shopping mall and looked for a supermarket, but it was a fancy mall and as we weren't in the mood for any Louis Vuitton we carried on our merry way. The strolling concluded with a look around the Lake of the Sword (or something like that), which seemed pretty similar to a large pond, an overpriced cup of coffee, and some Pho across the road from our hotel. Having strolled, and then rested following our morning of exertion, we decided to set out for an evening 10km run. Having conducted a map search of the area we established that the only tangible running route was the 1.54km loop around the Large Pond of the Sword. Unfortunately, for us, and for them, this was the favoured evening walking/strolling/taking marriage photos/standing in the middle of the sidewalk in large groups/jogging/playing Cao spot for a large chunk of Hanoi's tourists and locals. Fortunately, from our morning's road crossing practice, we were excellent weavers and managed to get in a refreshing six loops without colliding with anyone, though James did connect with a tree and stumble along a gutter, whilst Hannah got compliments on her speed from some local youths. The nights activities began with a classic Vietnamese meal of nachos and quesadillas, at a rather tasty Mexican restaurant. From there we wandered the Old Quarter for a little while before an excellent remix of Adele's 'Hello' lured us into a roadside bar. Having sucked us in with quality tunes, the bar hooked us with $1 beers, $3 espresso martinis, and an excellent view of the passing crowd, slowly getting more and more interesting (or perhaps we were getting drunker and drunker). At some stage, a couple of gentlemen walked in, one of whom thought it would be wise to wink rather conspicuously at Hannah. James, in that small window of inebriation where this was humorous behaviour, and not a dastardly slur on his wife's honour, invited them over for a drink. Perre, Jean and Jim (all scholarship students from Haiti) turned out to be excellent company, and as it was Jean's (???) birthday a round of shots followed. And then we went clubbing until Hannah fell off a table onto the floor and reappeared looking as if she had waded through five feet of Hanoi sewage... thankfully the hotel shower had excellent water pressure. 5 Feb started a little slower, though we did rouse ourselves for breakfast, as it was included in the room rate and our wallets were inexplicably empty. Following a post-breakfast retirement back to bed, we headed off to Hanoi's star attraction - the 'Ho Chi Minh Extravaganza' (not it's real name). Actually, it is an impressive collection of buildings and boulevards, centred around Ho Chi Minh's Mausoleum (viewing hours 0730 - 1130, whoops) including the Presidential Palace, the Ho Chi Minh Museum, some perfectly manicured gardens, not a single piece of rubbish, a smattering of government departments, various embassies, and a monstrous parade ground. The entire area is closed off to traffic (less the ubiquitous tour buses and official vehicles) which only heightens the somewhat surreal space and quiet in the heart of downtown Hanoi. Armed with bottles of water (and James's icecream) we entered the Ho Chi Minh Museum, for an enriching burst of history about the founding father of modern Vietnam, Ho Chi Minh (who appears on every banknote from the petty 1000 dong to the powerful 500000 dong). However, after a rather brief exhibition (one classroom sized room) about HCM the majority of the museum is given over to a history of Socialism, represented through Modernist sculpture. James's favourite was the human sized fruit, encapsulating the role of youth in the spread of communism; whilst Hannah was enthralled by the bicycle suspended from the ceiling. And, treat of treats, upon exiting the museum there was a special exhibition on the history of the rubber sandal. We skipped that one though (less a photo of Hannah in giant sandals), and went home, utilising our well rehearsed road crossing procedure many times. The Thai sleeper train had been delightful, and every minivan ride unpleasant, so we decided to book ourselves in for a relaxing train ride to Dong Hoi (approximately 450km or 10 hours by train) for 6 Feb. Booking our seats one day in advance, we were surprised to find that the only options left were hard sleeper beds in six berth cabins (2 tiers of 3 on each side of the cabin), due to the rather significant holiday of Vietnamese New Year. Stilling, having ticked the "prefer bottom berths" box we optimistically boarded our train at 6am to discover we had the top two berths in a cabin of six. With roughly 18 inches of clearance between the roof (not bug-free) and our rock-like mattresses, and a length of six feet to fit ourselves and our baggage we wedged ourselves in for a few hours of sleep, and prayed we were the only people in the cabin and that there had a been a booking error. James, in some feat of contortionism, created a comfortable enough position with his pack under his legs, his day bag wedged next to his hips and his mouth mere centimetres from the roof, and fell fast asleep for three hours. Hannah, preferring a softer mattress, had no such luck and fitfully dozed for a few hours. By some minor mercy come 9am no one else had entered the cabin, so we roused ourselves and spent a pleasant two hours reading and writing on the spacious bottom berth. Our only interruption was the officious railway guard who mimed that we were not to use the rubbish bin, and for added emphasis pushed it under a berth, and then seemed to sadistic pleasure in miming to us that we were to re-occupy our berths as other passengers were boarding. At Vinh, with approximately 5 hours to go, we were joined by 5 other passengers and their luggage (apparently the number of berths or seats is a guide), so we decamped to the 'dining car'. Which also doubled as a smoking carriage (ex-smoker James enjoyed this rather more than never-smoker Hannah), a food preparation area, a spitting saloon, and a child drop off zone at times. We may have to reconsider our aversion to minivans.