#project cargo handling

[no-passaran]

Genocide experts warn that India is about to genocide the Shompen people

Who are the Shompen?

The Shompen are an indigenous culture that lives in the Great Nicobar Island, which is nowadays owned by India. The Shompen and their ancestors are believed to have been living in this island for around 10,000 years. Like other tribes in the nearby islands, the Shompen are isolated from the rest of the world, as they chose to be left alone, with the exception of a few members who occasionally take part in exchanges with foreigners and go on quarantine before returning to their tribe. There are between 100 and 400 Shompen people, who are hunter-gatherers and nomadic agricultors and rely on their island's rainforest for survival.

Why is there risk of genocide?

India has announced a huge construction mega-project that will completely change the Great Nicobar Island to turn it into "the Hong Kong of India".

Nowadays, the island has 8,500 inhabitants, and over 95% of its surface is made up of national parks, protected forests and tribal reserve areas. Much of the island is covered by the Great Nicobar Biosphere Reserve, described by UNESCO as covering “unique and threatened tropical evergreen forest ecosystems. It is home to very rich ecosystems, including 650 species of angiosperms, ferns, gymnosperms, and bryophytes, among others. In terms of fauna, there are over 1800 species, some of which are endemic to this area. It has one of the best-preserved tropical rain forests in the world.”

The Indian project aims to destroy this natural environment to create an international shipping terminal with the capacity to handle 14.2 million TEUs (unit of cargo capacity), an international airport that will handle a peak hour traffic of 4,000 passengers and that will be used as a joint civilian-military airport under the control of the Indian Navy, a gas and solar power plant, a military base, an industrial park, and townships aimed at bringing in tourism, including commercial, industrial and residential zones as well as other tourism-related activities.

This project means the destruction of the island's pristine rainforests, as it involves cutting down over 852,000 trees and endangers the local fauna such as leatherback turtles, saltwater crocodiles, Nicobar crab-eating macaque and migratory birds. The erosion resulting from deforestation will be huge in this highly-seismic area. Experts also warn about the effects that this project will have on local flora and fauna as a result of pollution from the terminal project, coastal surface runoff, ballasts from ships, physical collisions with ships, coastal construction, oil spills, etc.

The indigenous people are not only affected because their environment and food source will be destroyed. On top of this, the demographic change will be a catastrophe for them. After the creation of this project, the Great Nicobar Island -which now has 8,500 inhabitants- will receive a population of 650,000 settlers. Remember that the Shompen and Nicobarese people who live on this island are isolated, which means they do not have an immune system that can resist outsider illnesses. Academics believe they could die of disease if they come in contact with outsiders (think of the arrival of Europeans to the Americas after Christopher Columbus and the way that common European illnesses were lethal for indigenous Americans with no immunization against them).

And on top of all of this, the project might destroy the environment and the indigenous people just to turn out to be useless and sooner or later be abandoned. The naturalist Uday Mondal explains that “after all the destruction, the financial viability of the project remains questionable as all the construction material will have to be shipped to this remote island and it will have to compete with already well-established ports.” However, this project is important to India because they want to use the island as a military and commercial post to stop China's expansion in the region, since the Nicobar islands are located on one of the world's busiest sea routes.

Last year, 70 former government officials and ambassadors wrote to the Indian president saying the project would “virtually destroy the unique ecology of this island and the habitat of vulnerable tribal groups”. India's response has been to say that the indigenous tribes will be relocated "if needed", but that doesn't solve the problem. As a spokesperson for human rights group Survival International said: “The Shompen are nomadic and have clearly defined territories. Four of their semi-permanent settlements are set to be directly devastated by the project, along with their southern hunting and foraging territories. The Shompen will undoubtedly try to move away from the area destroyed, but there will be little space for them to go. To avoid a genocide, this deadly mega-project must be scrapped.”

On 7 February 2024, 39 scholars from 13 countries published an open letter to the Indian president warning that “If the project goes ahead, even in a limited form, we believe it will be a death sentence for the Shompen, tantamount to the international crime of genocide.”

How to help

The NGO Survival International has launched this campaign:

From this site, you just need to add your name and email and you will send an email to India's Tribal Affairs Minister and to the companies currently vying to build the first stage of the project.

Share it with your friends and acquittances and on social media.

Sources:

India’s plan for untouched Nicobar isles will be ‘death sentence’ for isolated tribe, 7 Feb 2024. The Guardian.

‘It will destroy them’: Indian mega-development could cause ‘genocide’ and ‘ecocide’, says charity, 8 Feb 2024. Geographical.

Genocide experts call on India's government to scrap the Great Nicobar mega-project, Feb 2024. Survival International.

The container terminal that could sink the Great Nicobar Island, 20 July 2022. Mongabay.

[Maps] Environmental path cleared for Great Nicobar mega project, 10 Oct 2022. Mongabay.

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week

⚡ - Charging Towards a More Electrifying Future

1. The Kissimmee River has been brought back to life—and wildlife is thriving

The Kissimmee River in Florida was straightened in the 1960s, causing a sharp decline in wildlife and ecological problems. But in the 1990s, a $1 billion restoration project was initiated to restore the river's natural state.

Today, nearly half of the river has been restored, wetlands have been reestablished and rehydrated, and wildlife has returned, including rare and threatened species. Already the biological impact of the project has become clear. As the wetlands have come back, so have the birds.

2. Plastic wrap made from seaweed withstands heat and is compostable

A cling film made from an invasive seaweed can withstand high temperatures yet is still easily compostable. The material could eventually become a sustainable choice for food packaging.

Scientists started with a brown seaweed called sargassum. Sargassum contains long, chain-like molecules similar to those that make up conventional plastic, which made it a good raw material. The researchers mixed it with some acids and salts to get a solution full of these molecules, then blended in chemicals that thickened it and made it more flexible and pliable.

3. An Eagle Who Adopted a Rock Becomes a Real Dad to Orphaned Eaglet

Murphy, a bald eagle that had been showing fatherly instincts, has been sharing an enclosure with an eaglet that survived a fall from a tree during a storm in Ste. Genevieve. Murphy, his rock gone by then, took his role as foster parent seriously. He soon began responding to the chick’s peeps, and protecting it.

And when, as a test, the keepers placed two plates of food in front of the birds — one containing food cut into pieces that the chick could eat by itself, and another with a whole fish that only Murphy could handle — the older bird tore up the fish and fed it to the eaglet.

4. World's largest battery maker announces major breakthrough in energy density

In one of the most significant battery breakthroughs in recent years, the world’s largest battery manufacturer CATL has announced a new “condensed” battery with 500 Wh/kg which it says will go into mass production this year.

“The launch of condensed batteries will usher in an era of universal electrification of sea, land and air transportation, open up more possibilities of the development of the industry, and promote the achieving of the global carbon neutrality goals at an earlier date,” the company said in a presentation at Auto Shanghai on Thursday.

This could be huge. Electric jets and cargo ships become very possible at this point.

5. Cat with '100% fatal' feline coronavirus saved by human Covid-19 medicine

A beloved household cat has made an “astonishing” recovery from a usually fatal illness, thanks to a drug made to treat Covid-19 in humans – and a quick-thinking vet.

Anya​, the 7-year-old birman cat, was suffering from feline infectious peritonitis (FIP), a “100% fatal” viral infection caused by feline coronavirus. That was, until Auckland vet Dr Habin Choi​ intervened, giving Anya an antiviral used to treat Covid-19 called molnupiravir.

6. Kelp forests capture nearly 5 million tonnes of CO2 annually

Kelp forests provide an estimated value of $500 billion to the world and capture 4.5 million tonnes of carbon dioxide from seawater each year. Most of kelp’s economic benefits come from creating habitat for fish and by sequestering nitrogen and phosphorus.

7. Medical Marijuana Improved Parkinson’s Disease Symptoms in 87% of Patients

Medical cannabis (MC) has recently garnered interest as a potential treatment for neurologic diseases, including Parkinson's disease (PD). 87% of patients were noted to exhibit an improvement in any PD symptom after starting medical cannabis. Symptoms with the highest incidence of improvement included cramping/dystonia, pain, spasticity, lack of appetite, dyskinesia, and tremor.

----

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog

[archivistofnerddom]

The Batch + Life In Retirement On Pabu

Slightly AU: Tech lives, though he’s got a prosthetic leg as a result of his fall.

Hunter’s fashion sense swiftly nose-dives into that of every dad at an amusement park. Don’t ask why that happened so quickly. It just did. He’s rocking cargo shorts, corny shirts, and comfy shoes like they’re going out of style. (Crosshair gave him a tactical fanny pack as a joke. Hunter wears it all the time with all due seriousness.) It takes years for the rest of the Batch to get him to branch out from that.

Tech alternates between his space jeans and sweatpants, depending on his mood. The sweatpants were necessary when he first got his prosthetic leg during his post-Eriadu recovery process. He too starts wearing ironic shirts, but somehow makes them more fashionable than Hunter.

Crosshair has the widest selection of island-appropriate hats and sunglasses anyone has ever seen. No one knows how he gets so many, and he’s certainly not going to tell on himself. Omega is the reason why he has so many floral-print shirts though.

Wrecker discovers overalls and pretty much lives in them. No less than half of his overalls have the legs cut off at the knees. This is more practical than fashionable though. He’s just so big that he has a hard time finding pants that fit him at the waist and have a long enough pant leg.

Omega finally gets to decide on her preferred style now that they’re permanently in one place. She still wears a lot of hand-me-downs from her brothers though. Omega spends a lot of time helping out around the island, so she needs clothes that no one minds her getting dirty or ruined when she’s working on a project.

Echo has an extensive collection of sarongs he stores on Pabu that he only busts out when he’s visiting. Rex knows not to ask Echo to do anything if he sees him wearing one. (Visiting the family on Pabu is the only time Echo gets a break or a chance to relax and destress.)

Batcher gets a pretty collar and a massively cushy bed. Someone starts bringing her sweaters to wear when she gets cold. (Crosshair is the leading suspect. Hunter won’t confess to anything.)

Wrecker has an extremely extensive cookbook and recipe collection. He picks up cooking as a hobby post-retirement, and he is really good at it. Given the diversity of people and species on Pabu, Wrecker spends a lot of time learning different recipes from across the galaxy.

Crosshair and Wrecker go fishing together pretty regularly. They don’t say a lot during those times, but that’s okay. Crosshair enjoys spotting where the best fishing areas are. Wrecker just sits back and lets his baby brother take the lead on this. (He brings snacks and a cooler of drinks to keep them fed and hydrated when they decide to make a day of it.)

Tech upgrades the Archeum to improve how things are stored and protected. Omega helps out. They spend a lot of time adding details about the specific items housed therein, including any historical details, cultural relevance, and any notes about how best to handle the items. They’re working with Phee on an oral history component to the Archeum as well, so that the stories about the items in the Archeum and the residents of Pabu are preserved.

Crosshair makes hammocks and strings them up around the island in random places. He says it’s so that he can take a nap wherever and whenever. Really, it’s just his contribution to life on Pabu. (Plus, making hammocks were good physical therapy when he got his new prosthetic hand.)

Omega instituted regular family game night. (Echo is expected to be there as his work with Rex allows.) Depending on their moods, Batch family game night is either extremely chill or extremely cutthroat. There is no in-between.

Wrecker is the first one to “move out” of the shared family house. It’s only because he built an upgraded kitchen with a huge family room attached. The shared family home couldn’t accommodate those upgrades. His house is two houses down and is still where everyone eats dinner almost every night.

Tech moved out second. He moved in with Phee. It was a combination of their evolving romantic relationship and him wanting to be closer to the island repair shop that he runs in his spare time. (Tech became the island’s mechanic once he recovered from the injuries he sustained on Eriadu.)

Hunter develops a massive green thumb. The family shared house (which eventually is just him, Omega, and Crosshair full-time) is overflowing with plant life. He built and maintains a greenhouse for Wrecker to grow speciality plants for his cooking.

Echo usually crashes with Wrecker when he comes to visit. Wrecker renovated part of his house to be prosthetic leg friendly and got a really comfy recliner for Echo. Crosshair put in a hammock for Echo in the backyard.

Crosshair, Hunter, and Omega go on early morning runs together. It’s their bonding time.

Tech upgraded the whole family’s prosthetic limbs many times over the years. Hunter made a point of keeping the older models as a reminder of how far they’ve come since they retired.

Batcher is the most spoiled dog on the island. She adores the attention and winds up becoming the unofficial therapy dog for every new resident and refugee who finds their way to Pabu.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Drink With Me (Part 1)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Vampire Apocalypse AU Summary: In the middle of a vampire apocalypse, no one is safe. But when an unexpected storm interrupts your separate scavenger missions, there is nothing he can do but wait and hope you make it back to his arms safe and sound. Word Count: 3631 TW: Blood, Vampires, Vampire Attack, Character Death, Helplessness, Biting, Clawing, Language Notes: Written for day 4 of @whumpthemusical's event for "Failure" from Les Miserables. And big thanks to @sunlightmurdock for reading this over for me! 💗

Series Masterlist

The deep rumble of thunder echoes like an alarm for those inside the store. Instantly, all three scavengers stuff whatever supplies they are holding into their various bags and bolt for the door.

Jake reaches it first and unwraps the metal chain twisted around the handle, dropping it with a clattering thud just as Phoenix and Rooster arrive. Throwing the door open with a bang, the sight that greets them makes their blood run cold and Jake nearly drops the overflowing paper bag in his arms.

“Fuck…”

Though they have only been inside for twenty minutes or so, the world outside has transformed. Gone are the splashes of blue sky peering out from between billowing pale gray clouds, and the shimmers of warm, sunshine beams through the trees. Instead, the sky has been invaded by black, menacing clouds that stretch as far as the eye can see, casting an infinite shadow across the parking lot filled with abandoned cars and shopping carts as another roll of thunder signals the imminent downpour.

It means they will be on their way.

“Go!” Rooster urges, dropping one of the value-sized packages of toilet paper he has stuffed under his arm so he is free to dig through his pocket. “I’ve got the door.”

Phoenix doesn’t need to be told twice and she darts out into the growing storm. Jake, on the other hand, hesitates for just a second before shifting the supplies in his already overloaded arms and grabbing the package of toilet paper. Rooster meets his eye just as he pulls out a shiny gold key, and Jake yells, “Don’t wait around this time. Move your ass!” and then takes off after Phoenix.

He only makes it to the edge of the parking lot before the first drops of rain begin to hit him. Big, fat, plops of water burst across his skin, becoming more frequent by the second. As he reaches the end of the street, Jake finds himself and his belongings soaked through, the water causing his already heavy bags to sag with the added weight. He’s only a few blocks from the church but with the dense clouds blocking all afternoon light from getting through, the potential danger makes that distance seem impossible. 

Keeping his head on a constant swivel, he runs as quickly as his legs will allow with his extra cargo. The additional weight isn’t the only problem. With the bulky layers of backpacks, armful of paper bags, and the slippery packaging of the toilet paper wedged under his arm, he has to keep adjusting everything as he runs so he doesn’t drop anything. It’s a delicate balance of step–shift–adjust strap–wipe rain from his eyes–step–look around–shrug backpack up arm–step, but Jake eventually finds the perfect rhythm. After all, this isn’t his first rodeo.

The shadows taunt and tease him as he rushes by. He can’t be sure if something is hiding within them or if it’s just his paranoid eyes projecting his deepest fears. Though honestly, it doesn’t matter. Even if something is lurking in the darkness, his only hope is the safety of the church so he ignores everything around him and keeps running as another booming clap of thunder fills the air.

In about six minutes that feel like an eternity, Jake begins to make out the dim lanterns shining through the stained glass windows up ahead through the pouring rain. It almost seems too good to be true that nothing has leaped out at him in the darkness, and he just hopes that doesn’t mean they are preoccupied with someone else.

Slipping slightly in a puddle in the middle of the road, he rushes through the iron fence surrounding the church and scampers up the front steps. Using the heel of his boot, he kicks the door twice and it opens almost immediately. Practically falling through the door, Jake mutters a small thanks to Payback who slaps one of his backpacks as he passes. A few other people are moving around the small vestibule but he doesn’t see the one he is looking for.

Fanboy comes over to help him unstrap the bags hanging off of him and it is a relief once all the extra weight has been removed. Rolling his shoulders as water drips off of him onto the carpet below, Jake looks around in the dim lamplight and notices Bob handing Phoenix a towel as she strips off her water-logged jacket. She accepts it and as she begins drying off, she catches Jake’s eye. The two nod, before her eyes drift down to the toilet paper Jake had dropped at his feet.

“Rooster?”

Jake shrugs. “He had to lock up but he should be right behind me.” The door to the church burst open. “Speak of the devil…”

Rooster hurries into the dim space, shaking his head like a dog and sending water spraying in all directions. When he sees Jake and Phoenix staring at him, he asks, “All good?”

“I’m always good,” Jake smirks. He kicks the package of toilet paper so it skids across the floor to rest at Rooster’s feet. “And that’s on top of picking up your slack.”

Rooster’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t ask you to do that. I could have handled it on my own.” Pushing past Jake, he approaches Phoenix. “Any sign of trouble?”

She shakes her head. “We got lucky this time. We were sloppy. We should have noticed this storm moving in long before it got here. They could have snuck into the store and gotten us before we even knew they had come out of their holes. We need to do better or someone’s going to end up dead.”

He sighs as he wipes his hand over his face, knocking the water droplets clinging to his mustache to the floor. “I know, that’s on me. We shoulda had one of us guarding the door as a lookout but it was the middle of the day and decent weather I didn’t think…Next time we’ll do it by the book.” He takes one of the fresh towels Bob offers him. “Anyone else come back yet?”

“No, but the pharmacy’s farther away. They should be back soon.” 

Jake is grateful Rooster only nods and doesn’t state the obvious. The pharmacy and gas station might be farther from the church than the supermarket, but only by a block or two. The other team must have heard the thunder too and even with the extra distance, there should be some sign of them by now.

He never should have let you convince him to let you go without him.

Over the last few days, an illness has been sweeping through the church. While most of the adults who got it seemed to be fighting it off relatively well so far, the children were not as lucky. None of them showed any signs of getting better, and last night, the first of them had succumbed to it. The only hope was to try and find something to treat them but that meant an extra supply run.

You had been pre-med before the creatures arrived last year and, while no expert, you had the most medical knowledge of anyone in the group. Having you be the one to go to the pharmacy was the obvious choice. And since Coyote had been spending the last few weeks in the garage next door trying to fix some of the equipment that might help them get power again, it was clear he should be the other runner so he could continue working while you searched. Which left Jake without a valid excuse for why he should go. 

The group was also running low on food, toiletries, cleaning supplies, and pretty much everything else so they needed the extra hands at the supermarket and Jake was one of their best runners—the perfect combination of speed and strength. You had spent all morning trying to reassure him it would be okay and you’d be back together before he knew it, but it did little to lessen the dread that settled in his stomach as he watched you hurry in the opposite direction, casting one last glance back at him with a smile and a wink.

What if that was the last time he ever saw you?

The roar of thunder suddenly gets louder as the door to the church swings forward once again and Coyote stumbles in. He is soaking wet and panting heavily as he struggles to catch his breath. However, the only thing Jake notices in that moment, is that he is alone.

Coyote barely has time to remove his backpack before Jake grabs him by the front of his jacket and throws him against the wall. Terror and anger coursing through him, he snarls in his best friend’s face, “Where is she? Where the fuck is she!” 

“She’s coming! Damn, man,” Coyote yells as he shoves Jake off of him. Jake stumbles back, and Rooster places his hand on his arm, not really holding him back but the warning is clear. Seeing the desperation on Jake’s face, Coyote softens as he straightens his jacket. “I tried, but you know her. She wasn’t gonna leave without that medicine.”

“Then you should have waited for her! You shouldn’t have left her alone!”

“You know she wouldn’t let me do that either.”

“....Fuck!”

Jake yanks his arm away from Rooster’s grasp and begins pacing anxiously back and forth. He knows Coyote is right. You would lay down your life for any person here, but you’d be damned if you let someone do the same for you. At the first sign of trouble, you would have insisted Coyote returned to the church, probably swearing you just needed one more thing even if you had only just begun searching. Jake would have thrown you over his shoulder and carried you out kicking and pleading to let you get what you were looking for, but he couldn’t expect his friend to do the same. 

“She’s going to be okay, Hangman,” Rooster says, still eyeing him cautiously in case he needs to restrain Jake. “She knows how to handle herself.”

“Handle herself? There is no handling yourself against a horde of those things,” Jake spits at him as he continues to pace. “She could already be dead o-or turned by now and we would never know. She’d just be gone for good and we’d never…I’d never…Ahhh!”

As he screams, Jake whirls around and slams his fist into the wall before slumping into it, all his rage absorbed into the wood leaving nothing but his fear and hopelessness behind. The room has fallen silent around him but he can feel every eye on him. He shouldn’t have lost it, but he’s never felt this helpless. Even when the creatures first showed up, he knew there were ways to fight back, to stand up against them. But as long as you were separated from him, there is nothing he can do but sit here and wait. 

After a moment, Jake feels a hand gently grasp his shoulder and squeeze it. “She’ll be okay,” Rooster says. “Why don’t you go wait outside and be a lookout for her? I’m sure she’ll appreciate seeing you made it back safely too when she gets here.”

Jake nods slowly before pushing himself off the wall and shuffling towards the door. As he passes Coyote, his friend tries to reach out, his mouth opening but Jake shoots him a look that makes him close it without a word. Jake doesn’t really blame Coyote for leaving without you, but he’s just not in a place to hear an apology or give one of his own. So he keeps going until he slips out of the church.

Outside, there is a slight overhang that protects him from the worst of the storm, but he can still feel rain misting his skin as it is blown by the rain. Another roll of thunder rumbles overhead, shaking the steps beneath his feet. The storm has only intensified since they first heard it back in the supermarket, and there is no sign of it letting up anytime soon. Which means more of a chance they have come out to hunt.

Squinting through the darkness for any sign of you, Jake chants to himself, Come on, baby, come on, baby. Where are you? You got this, just please come back to me.

Suddenly, a slight flash of movement off to his left catches his eye. Through the faint light and the rain, he can just make out a shape hurtling towards the church at top speed. When it gets closer, Jake sags against the door as he recognizes the white t-shirt with his flannel pulled over it. You are still several hundred yards away but you are closing fast despite the several backpacks strapped to you and the pouring rain pelting your body.  

But then Jake’s blood runs cold as he notices five—no six!—shadows right on your heels. They had finally arrived.

No one ever used the term “vampires” even though everyone thought it. With the creatures’ fatal reaction to the sunlight, ravenous taste for blood, aversion to holy ground, and ability to transform humans into other creatures through their bites, it was hard to categorize them as anything else. Maybe everyone avoided the term because they had been so desensitized by the onslaught of movies and television shows with their lame depictions or cheesy interpretations of vampires that the word no longer captured the true horror of the creatures terrorizing their lives. But whatever the reason, they have always only been called “the creatures” since mysteriously appearing just over a year ago. 

At times, they can look just like they did when they were still human. There have even been instances when they held conversations with their prey before attacking. However, once their attack begins, it is a completely different story. With their unnatural speed and the spine-chilling hisses and growls that they make as they chase their prey, it is clear that whatever humanity they once had has long been twisted into something monstrous. And if you were unfortunate enough to get a closer look—which Jake had on a few harrowing occasions—the differences became blatantly clear. Their eyes were nothing more than black gaping voids; they had a set of daggers for teeth, each as pointed and deadly as the last; and their fingernails were several inches long and sharpened into ferocious claws that could rip skin from bone. All of it added up to things of nightmares, creatures of the night whose only goal in life was to kill and devour the living around them. 

And right now, they have their sights set on you.

Jake takes a step forward to the edge of the steps, clutching the railing until his knuckles turn white. Even if there is something he can do to stop the creatures, you are still too far away. Your only hope is to make it to the safety of the church before they can reach you but they are closing fast.

The creature closest to you pounces forward and Jake yells out a warning he knows you cannot hear above the storm. However, in one fluid motion, you whirl around and swing the backpack clutched in your hand directly into its head before completing your 360° turn and continuing running at full speed.

Jake whoops in relieved exhilaration.“Fuck yeah!”

At this distance, he can just make out the smug smile that spreads across your face, reveling in your own badassery. God, he can’t wait to wrap you in his arms and squeeze you so tight and never let go. There had been some very close calls in the past, but today might take the cake. However, if he has his way, you’ll never leave his sight again. 

Jake can tell the exact moment you notice him—your head perks up slightly and the smugness in your smile shifts into relief. Even while in the middle of running for your life, you have still managed to worry about him. Jake gives you two thumbs up and urges you on, waiting for you to cross the last street before you are in the clear.

But then the unthinkable happens. As you are just about to reach the gate of the church, you trip.

Jake can’t be sure if the heavy downpour blinded you or if your sneaker slipped in one of the fresh puddles. All he could see is one moment, you are about to fling yourself into the safety of his arms, and the next, you are skidding across the concrete on your hands and knees before rolling to a stop against the curb. 

The blood oozing from your fresh scrapes swirls within the puddles as you quickly try to push yourself to your feet, but it’s too late. As you begin to rise, one of the creatures hisses and leaps forward, landing on your back and tackling you to the ground. In a flash, two, three, four more have joined it, each digging their claws into your skin or baring their teeth as they go in for their deadly bite. You are pinned down under the weight of them, and though you continue to fight for freedom, the agony and terror filling your screams make it clear it’s a losing battle. 

Although it seems as if everything since your fall has played out in slow motion, it has only taken seconds in which Jake has been frozen in horrified disbelief. But finally snapping to, Jake launches himself towards the mass of teeth and claws that had descended onto your defenseless form as he screams, “No….No!” 

But before he can get more than two steps down the stairs, half a dozen hands wrap around him from behind and draw him back into the doorway of the church. Jake flails and fights with everything in him, but even he’s no match for the combined forces of Rooster, Coyote, and Payback holding him back as he watches more creatures swarming towards you.

“Get the fuck off of me! We need to help her! No! What the fuck are you doing?” 

Jake throws his head back and feels it make contact with someone else’s face. With a grunt, one set of hands loosens their grip on him and Jake tries to use this one chance to slip away to your aid. 

However before he can, an arm wraps across Jake’s chest, locking him into a tight bear hug. Drawing Jake’s struggling body into his, Rooster murmurs in his ear, “She’s gone, Hangman. I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing else anyone can do for her now. It’s over.”

All Jake can do is watch helplessly as he witnesses the truth of Rooster’s words.

Although the creatures had ripped into you with their claws, so far all attempts to bite you have been blocked by one of the bags strapped to your back or hanging off your arms. However, the creature with its knee pressed between your shoulder blades seems to have discovered the trick. It leans over and, with a loud hiss, sinks its teeth into the meat of your shoulder just avoiding the backpack straps. You howl in pain as your back arches up, and the creature releases its hold for just a moment. Long enough for Jake to spot the dark, thick blood dripping from its mouth. Then with another snarl, it bites down again.

The metallic smell of so much blood seems to renew the other creatures’ determination to feed on you and they begin clawing at the backpacks, ripping them apart at the seams until they can toss the shreds aside and reach you. Medicine and supplies crash to the ground, either shattering on impact or getting smashed underfoot as the creatures continue to fight over your body. One-by-one more and more sets of teeth sink into your skin and with each one, another heartbreaking scream tears from your lips. 

Jake has gone almost limp in his friends’ arms, unable to tear his eyes off the horror show before him. Blood, washed away by the falling rain, seeps into the puddles surrounding you, a red river running down the street. Yet even now, he can see you are continuing to fight, to try to free yourself from the creatures eating you alive. 

But then Jake realizes something. You aren’t trying to get free. Or at least, you’re not trying to free all of you. As he watches, you manage to pull your arm from under one of the creatures and wrap your bloody fingers around the backpack you had been carrying in your hand as you fled. It was the only one that was still relatively in one piece. 

Taking a few quick breaths, you flick your wrist and the backpack tumbles softly out of the way of the creatures and stops just inside the iron gate of the church. Seeing it successfully land within the sacred ground, all the fight goes out of you and you collapse weakly to the ground while more creatures swarm over you. 

Jake had thought nothing else could be worse than listening to your wails of pain, and yet, hearing them grow weaker and less coherent as the venom floods your system and your blood is drained from your body is a whole other level of torture. Then, as yet another pair of fangs pierce your skin, your teary eyes slowly lift and meet Jake’s. The world seems to freeze for just a moment, and he watches your bloody lips softly form his name. 

But before he can react, Rooster, Coyote, and Payback yank him inside the church just before Bob slams the door, and you are gone.

Part 2 coming soon!

Taglist: @green-socks, @lorecraft, @heart-0n-fire, @mayhem24-7forever, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @airhogger, @piscesvancouverite, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @blue-aconite, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @writercole, @onebigfangirlworld, @wkndwlff, @ravenmoore14, @clancycucumber230, @mamachasesmayhem, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @kmc1989, @ohtobeleah, @deppresseddyslexic, @horneybeach1, @mandylove1000, @aczhang777

[zvaigzdelasas]

United States Navy ships fired on a Houthi anti-ship missile in Yemen hours after a tanker operated on behalf of trading giant Trafigura Group carrying a cargo of Russian fuel was hit in the most significant attack yet by the rebel group on an oil-carrying vessel.[...]

The vessel was carrying Russian-origin naphtha — a product used to make plastics and gasoline — purchased below the price cap imposed by the Group of Seven nations, a Trafigura spokesperson said Friday.[...]

Vast amounts of Russian petroleum now pass through the southern Red Sea to reach Asian buyers following Europe’s shunning of its cargoes due to the war in Ukraine. [...]

The vessel collected its Russia-origin cargo via a so-called ship-to-ship transfer from a stretch of water in the Laconian Gulf in southern Greece, according to data from analytics firm Kpler. The area has been pivotal in helping Russia to get its petroleum to the global market and, as well as handling supplies under the price cap, has also facilitated more shadowy trades. Trafigura, along with other commodity traders like Glencore Plc, Vitol Group and Gunvor Group, was one of the biggest lifters of oil from Russia before the country’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine and was a partner in a major oil project run by state producer Rosneft PJSC.

The operator of the Marlin Luanda is registered as being Oceonix Services Ltd, a UK registered company.[...]

In a statement, a Houthi spokesperson claimed the Marlin Luanda was a British ship and was targeted in response to "American-British aggression against our country".

US now securing UK-owned shipments of Russian petroleum products under the g7 price cap to help sustain Israel's genocide [26 Jan 24]

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Drink With Me (Part 1)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, f!reader, Vampire Apocalypse AU Summary: In the middle of a vampire apocalypse, no one is safe. But when an unexpected storm interrupts your separate scavenger missions, there is nothing he can do but wait and hope you make it back to his arms safe and sound. Word Count: 3631 TW: Blood, Vampires, Vampire Attack, Character Death, Helplessness, Biting, Clawing, Language Notes: Written for day 4 of @whumpthemusical's event for "Failure" from Les Miserables. And big thanks to @sunlightmurdock for reading this over for me! 💗

Series Masterlist

The deep rumble of thunder echoes like an alarm for those inside the store. Instantly, all three scavengers stuff whatever supplies they are holding into their various bags and bolt for the door.

Jake reaches it first and unwraps the metal chain twisted around the handle, dropping it with a clattering thud just as Phoenix and Rooster arrive. Throwing the door open with a bang, the sight that greets them makes their blood run cold and Jake nearly drops the overflowing paper bag in his arms.

“Fuck…”

Though they have only been inside for twenty minutes or so, the world outside has transformed. Gone are the splashes of blue sky peering out from between billowing pale gray clouds, and the shimmers of warm, sunshine beams through the trees. Instead, the sky has been invaded by black, menacing clouds that stretch as far as the eye can see, casting an infinite shadow across the parking lot filled with abandoned cars and shopping carts as another roll of thunder signals the imminent downpour.

It means they will be on their way.

“Go!” Rooster urges, dropping one of the value-sized packages of toilet paper he has stuffed under his arm so he is free to dig through his pocket. “I’ve got the door.”

Phoenix doesn’t need to be told twice and she darts out into the growing storm. Jake, on the other hand, hesitates for just a second before shifting the supplies in his already overloaded arms and grabbing the package of toilet paper. Rooster meets his eye just as he pulls out a shiny gold key, and Jake yells, “Don’t wait around this time. Move your ass!” and then takes off after Phoenix.

He only makes it to the edge of the parking lot before the first drops of rain begin to hit him. Big, fat, plops of water burst across his skin, becoming more frequent by the second. As he reaches the end of the street, Jake finds himself and his belongings soaked through, the water causing his already heavy bags to sag with the added weight. He’s only a few blocks from the church but with the dense clouds blocking all afternoon light from getting through, the potential danger makes that distance seem impossible. 

Keeping his head on a constant swivel, he runs as quickly as his legs will allow with his extra cargo. The additional weight isn’t the only problem. With the bulky layers of backpacks, armful of paper bags, and the slippery packaging of the toilet paper wedged under his arm, he has to keep adjusting everything as he runs so he doesn’t drop anything. It’s a delicate balance of step–shift–adjust strap–wipe rain from his eyes–step–look around–shrug backpack up arm–step, but Jake eventually finds the perfect rhythm. After all, this isn’t his first rodeo.

The shadows taunt and tease him as he rushes by. He can’t be sure if something is hiding within them or if it’s just his paranoid eyes projecting his deepest fears. Though honestly, it doesn’t matter. Even if something is lurking in the darkness, his only hope is the safety of the church so he ignores everything around him and keeps running as another booming clap of thunder fills the air.

In about six minutes that feel like an eternity, Jake begins to make out the dim lanterns shining through the stained glass windows up ahead through the pouring rain. It almost seems too good to be true that nothing has leaped out at him in the darkness, and he just hopes that doesn’t mean they are preoccupied with someone else.

Slipping slightly in a puddle in the middle of the road, he rushes through the iron fence surrounding the church and scampers up the front steps. Using the heel of his boot, he kicks the door twice and it opens almost immediately. Practically falling through the door, Jake mutters a small thanks to Payback who slaps one of his backpacks as he passes. A few other people are moving around the small vestibule but he doesn’t see the one he is looking for.

Fanboy comes over to help him unstrap the bags hanging off of him and it is a relief once all the extra weight has been removed. Rolling his shoulders as water drips off of him onto the carpet below, Jake looks around in the dim lamplight and notices Bob handing Phoenix a towel as she strips off her water-logged jacket. She accepts it and as she begins drying off, she catches Jake’s eye. The two nod, before her eyes drift down to the toilet paper Jake had dropped at his feet.

“Rooster?”

Jake shrugs. “He had to lock up but he should be right behind me.” The door to the church burst open. “Speak of the devil…”

Rooster hurries into the dim space, shaking his head like a dog and sending water spraying in all directions. When he sees Jake and Phoenix staring at him, he asks, “All good?”

“I’m always good,” Jake smirks. He kicks the package of toilet paper so it skids across the floor to rest at Rooster’s feet. “And that’s on top of picking up your slack.”

Rooster’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t ask you to do that. I could have handled it on my own.” Pushing past Jake, he approaches Phoenix. “Any sign of trouble?”

She shakes her head. “We got lucky this time. We were sloppy. We should have noticed this storm moving in long before it got here. They could have snuck into the store and gotten us before we even knew they had come out of their holes. We need to do better or someone’s going to end up dead.”

He sighs as he wipes his hand over his face, knocking the water droplets clinging to his mustache to the floor. “I know, that’s on me. We shoulda had one of us guarding the door as a lookout but it was the middle of the day and decent weather I didn’t think…Next time we’ll do it by the book.” He takes one of the fresh towels Bob offers him. “Anyone else come back yet?”

“No, but the pharmacy’s farther away. They should be back soon.” 

Jake is grateful Rooster only nods and doesn’t state the obvious. The pharmacy and gas station might be farther from the church than the supermarket, but only by a block or two. The other team must have heard the thunder too and even with the extra distance, there should be some sign of them by now.

He never should have let you convince him to let you go without him.

Over the last few days, an illness has been sweeping through the church. While most of the adults who got it seemed to be fighting it off relatively well so far, the children were not as lucky. None of them showed any signs of getting better, and last night, the first of them had succumbed to it. The only hope was to try and find something to treat them but that meant an extra supply run.

You had been pre-med before the creatures arrived last year and, while no expert, you had the most medical knowledge of anyone in the group. Having you be the one to go to the pharmacy was the obvious choice. And since Coyote had been spending the last few weeks in the garage next door trying to fix some of the equipment that might help them get power again, it was clear he should be the other runner so he could continue working while you searched. Which left Jake without a valid excuse for why he should go. 

The group was also running low on food, toiletries, cleaning supplies, and pretty much everything else so they needed the extra hands at the supermarket and Jake was one of their best runners—the perfect combination of speed and strength. You had spent all morning trying to reassure him it would be okay and you’d be back together before he knew it, but it did little to lessen the dread that settled in his stomach as he watched you hurry in the opposite direction, casting one last glance back at him with a smile and a wink.

What if that was the last time he ever saw you?

The roar of thunder suddenly gets louder as the door to the church swings forward once again and Coyote stumbles in. He is soaking wet and panting heavily as he struggles to catch his breath. However, the only thing Jake notices in that moment, is that he is alone.

Coyote barely has time to remove his backpack before Jake grabs him by the front of his jacket and throws him against the wall. Terror and anger coursing through him, he snarls in his best friend’s face, “Where is she? Where the fuck is she!” 

“She’s coming! Damn, man,” Coyote yells as he shoves Jake off of him. Jake stumbles back, and Rooster places his hand on his arm, not really holding him back but the warning is clear. Seeing the desperation on Jake’s face, Coyote softens as he straightens his jacket. “I tried, but you know her. She wasn’t gonna leave without that medicine.”

“Then you should have waited for her! You shouldn’t have left her alone!”

“You know she wouldn’t let me do that either.”

“....Fuck!”

Jake yanks his arm away from Rooster’s grasp and begins pacing anxiously back and forth. He knows Coyote is right. You would lay down your life for any person here, but you’d be damned if you let someone do the same for you. At the first sign of trouble, you would have insisted Coyote returned to the church, probably swearing you just needed one more thing even if you had only just begun searching. Jake would have thrown you over his shoulder and carried you out kicking and pleading to let you get what you were looking for, but he couldn’t expect his friend to do the same. 

“She’s going to be okay, Hangman,” Rooster says, still eyeing him cautiously in case he needs to restrain Jake. “She knows how to handle herself.”

“Handle herself? There is no handling yourself against a horde of those things,” Jake spits at him as he continues to pace. “She could already be dead o-or turned by now and we would never know. She’d just be gone for good and we’d never…I’d never…Ahhh!”

As he screams, Jake whirls around and slams his fist into the wall before slumping into it, all his rage absorbed into the wood leaving nothing but his fear and hopelessness behind. The room has fallen silent around him but he can feel every eye on him. He shouldn’t have lost it, but he’s never felt this helpless. Even when the creatures first showed up, he knew there were ways to fight back, to stand up against them. But as long as you were separated from him, there is nothing he can do but sit here and wait. 

After a moment, Jake feels a hand gently grasp his shoulder and squeeze it. “She’ll be okay,” Rooster says. “Why don’t you go wait outside and be a lookout for her? I’m sure she’ll appreciate seeing you made it back safely too when she gets here.”

Jake nods slowly before pushing himself off the wall and shuffling towards the door. As he passes Coyote, his friend tries to reach out, his mouth opening but Jake shoots him a look that makes him close it without a word. Jake doesn’t really blame Coyote for leaving without you, but he’s just not in a place to hear an apology or give one of his own. So he keeps going until he slips out of the church.

Outside, there is a slight overhang that protects him from the worst of the storm, but he can still feel rain misting his skin as it is blown by the rain. Another roll of thunder rumbles overhead, shaking the steps beneath his feet. The storm has only intensified since they first heard it back in the supermarket, and there is no sign of it letting up anytime soon. Which means more of a chance they have come out to hunt.

Squinting through the darkness for any sign of you, Jake chants to himself, Come on, baby, come on, baby. Where are you? You got this, just please come back to me.

Suddenly, a slight flash of movement off to his left catches his eye. Through the faint light and the rain, he can just make out a shape hurtling towards the church at top speed. When it gets closer, Jake sags against the door as he recognizes the white t-shirt with his flannel pulled over it. You are still several hundred yards away but you are closing fast despite the several backpacks strapped to you and the pouring rain pelting your body.  

But then Jake’s blood runs cold as he notices five—no six!—shadows right on your heels. They had finally arrived.

No one ever used the term “vampires” even though everyone thought it. With the creatures’ fatal reaction to the sunlight, ravenous taste for blood, aversion to holy ground, and ability to transform humans into other creatures through their bites, it was hard to categorize them as anything else. Maybe everyone avoided the term because they had been so desensitized by the onslaught of movies and television shows with their lame depictions or cheesy interpretations of vampires that the word no longer captured the true horror of the creatures terrorizing their lives. But whatever the reason, they have always only been called “the creatures” since mysteriously appearing just over a year ago. 

At times, they can look just like they did when they were still human. There have even been instances when they held conversations with their prey before attacking. However, once their attack begins, it is a completely different story. With their unnatural speed and the spine-chilling hisses and growls that they make as they chase their prey, it is clear that whatever humanity they once had has long been twisted into something monstrous. And if you were unfortunate enough to get a closer look—which Jake had on a few harrowing occasions—the differences became blatantly clear. Their eyes were nothing more than black gaping voids; they had a set of daggers for teeth, each as pointed and deadly as the last; and their fingernails were several inches long and sharpened into ferocious claws that could rip skin from bone. All of it added up to things of nightmares, creatures of the night whose only goal in life was to kill and devour the living around them. 

And right now, they have their sights set on you.

Jake takes a step forward to the edge of the steps, clutching the railing until his knuckles turn white. Even if there is something he can do to stop the creatures, you are still too far away. Your only hope is to make it to the safety of the church before they can reach you but they are closing fast.

The creature closest to you pounces forward and Jake yells out a warning he knows you cannot hear above the storm. However, in one fluid motion, you whirl around and swing the backpack clutched in your hand directly into its head before completing your 360° turn and continuing running at full speed.

Jake whoops in relieved exhilaration.“Fuck yeah!”

At this distance, he can just make out the smug smile that spreads across your face, reveling in your own badassery. God, he can’t wait to wrap you in his arms and squeeze you so tight and never let go. There had been some very close calls in the past, but today might take the cake. However, if he has his way, you’ll never leave his sight again. 

Jake can tell the exact moment you notice him—your head perks up slightly and the smugness in your smile shifts into relief. Even while in the middle of running for your life, you have still managed to worry about him. Jake gives you two thumbs up and urges you on, waiting for you to cross the last street before you are in the clear.

But then the unthinkable happens. As you are just about to reach the gate of the church, you trip.

Jake can’t be sure if the heavy downpour blinded you or if your sneaker slipped in one of the fresh puddles. All he could see is one moment, you are about to fling yourself into the safety of his arms, and the next, you are skidding across the concrete on your hands and knees before rolling to a stop against the curb. 

The blood oozing from your fresh scrapes swirls within the puddles as you quickly try to push yourself to your feet, but it’s too late. As you begin to rise, one of the creatures hisses and leaps forward, landing on your back and tackling you to the ground. In a flash, two, three, four more have joined it, each digging their claws into your skin or baring their teeth as they go in for their deadly bite. You are pinned down under the weight of them, and though you continue to fight for freedom, the agony and terror filling your screams make it clear it’s a losing battle. 

Although it seems as if everything since your fall has played out in slow motion, it has only taken seconds in which Jake has been frozen in horrified disbelief. But finally snapping to, Jake launches himself towards the mass of teeth and claws that had descended onto your defenseless form as he screams, “No….No!” 

But before he can get more than two steps down the stairs, half a dozen hands wrap around him from behind and draw him back into the doorway of the church. Jake flails and fights with everything in him, but even he’s no match for the combined forces of Rooster, Coyote, and Payback holding him back as he watches more creatures swarming towards you.

“Get the fuck off of me! We need to help her! No! What the fuck are you doing?” 

Jake throws his head back and feels it make contact with someone else’s face. With a grunt, one set of hands loosens their grip on him and Jake tries to use this one chance to slip away to your aid. 

However before he can, an arm wraps across Jake’s chest, locking him into a tight bear hug. Drawing Jake’s struggling body into his, Rooster murmurs in his ear, “She’s gone, Hangman. I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing else anyone can do for her now. It’s over.”

All Jake can do is watch helplessly as he witnesses the truth of Rooster’s words.

Although the creatures had ripped into you with their claws, so far all attempts to bite you have been blocked by one of the bags strapped to your back or hanging off your arms. However, the creature with its knee pressed between your shoulder blades seems to have discovered the trick. It leans over and, with a loud hiss, sinks its teeth into the meat of your shoulder just avoiding the backpack straps. You howl in pain as your back arches up, and the creature releases its hold for just a moment. Long enough for Jake to spot the dark, thick blood dripping from its mouth. Then with another snarl, it bites down again.

The metallic smell of so much blood seems to renew the other creatures’ determination to feed on you and they begin clawing at the backpacks, ripping them apart at the seams until they can toss the shreds aside and reach you. Medicine and supplies crash to the ground, either shattering on impact or getting smashed underfoot as the creatures continue to fight over your body. One-by-one more and more sets of teeth sink into your skin and with each one, another heartbreaking scream tears from your lips. 

Jake has gone almost limp in his friends’ arms, unable to tear his eyes off the horror show before him. Blood, washed away by the falling rain, seeps into the puddles surrounding you, a red river running down the street. Yet even now, he can see you are continuing to fight, to try to free yourself from the creatures eating you alive. 

But then Jake realizes something. You aren’t trying to get free. Or at least, you’re not trying to free all of you. As he watches, you manage to pull your arm from under one of the creatures and wrap your bloody fingers around the backpack you had been carrying in your hand as you fled. It was the only one that was still relatively in one piece. 

Taking a few quick breaths, you flick your wrist and the backpack tumbles softly out of the way of the creatures and stops just inside the iron gate of the church. Seeing it successfully land within the sacred ground, all the fight goes out of you and you collapse weakly to the ground while more creatures swarm over you. 

Jake had thought nothing else could be worse than listening to your wails of pain, and yet, hearing them grow weaker and less coherent as the venom floods your system and your blood is drained from your body is a whole other level of torture. Then, as yet another pair of fangs pierce your skin, your teary eyes slowly lift and meet Jake’s. The world seems to freeze for just a moment, and he watches your bloody lips softly form his name. 

But before he can react, Rooster, Coyote, and Payback yank him inside the church just before Bob slams the door, and you are gone.

Part 2 coming soon!

Taglist: @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @thescarletknight2014, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @kkrenae, @zebralover, @startrekfangirl2233, @memeorydotcom

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Change | Changing

Basically I love all of your Roman angst especially the one where Roman and Logan go to the rage room because you captured their dynamic so well and in a way that a lot of other writers don’t. So! On that note! What if Logan is thinking about how Roman always seems to brace himself before talking to Patton, and Roman tells him that their relationship isn’t as bubbly as it seems (because I always see Royality referred to as the sunshine couple haha). Specifically how Patton interacts with Remus, or how he (and Janus) react to Roman trying to come out, etc. – anon

Ok ok ok, so I know you basically just posted Change, but I’m already obsessed.. Can I perhaps request a part 2 where Roman struggles with asking for help(taking care of himself, working on projects, etc) and the others try their best(and maybe make mistakes) to help him? – anon

okay ik it’s been less than a day, and i don’t know if you’re still taking requests, but i would LOVE to see a part two to change. it was so touching to me, and i just want to see roman comforted so bad. thank you and no pressure !! – anon

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: internalized homophobia, bullying, implied/referenced abuse

Pairings: none

Word Count: 7329

Roman is over the top, bombastic, and enthusiastic. He is prone to fits of passion and emotional outbursts. Such is the nature of Creativity. But the others...don't like that. They aren't exactly ambiguous about it either. Or, Roman struggles to walk the line between being himself and being something the others can tolerate. It gets far worse before it gets any better. But it does get a little better.

"Hey, Princey?"

Roman nearly snaps his pencil in half as he shoves the notebook into the couch cushions.

"Whoa," Virgil mutters, holding his hands up as Roman whips his head around to look at him, "easy, Princey, it's just me."

He doesn't move.

"Right, fuck." He takes a deep breath and makes an effort to soften his expression. "Uh, hi, Roman. I was, uh, what're you doing?"

"Nothing."

There's a soft popping sound and Janus appears, turning to look at him. He swallows heavily and pushes the notebook further into the bowels of the couch. Several expressions flicker across Janus's face before he settles on a deep sigh. "Good morning, Roman."

"Hi."

"Would you like to explain what's going on?"

"N-no." His heart thuds in his ears. The pencil groans in his hands. "I didn't do anything."

"I'm not saying you did, sweetie."

"I really don't think he did, J, I just, uh, I spooked him."

"I can see that."

They're doing the thing where they talk about him like he's not here. As much as it makes his skin crawl, it does mean he has a better chance of slipping away. At least he would if they both weren't looking at him like that.

"Did you need me to do something, Virgil?"

"What? Oh, uh, no, Princey, I, uh…" He scratches the back of his head. "I just, um…shit."

Janus looks between the two of them, toying with a seam at the end of his glove. Before Roman can summon up the courage to say something, anything, even a lie that Janus might not call him out on, he hears footsteps on the stairs.

"Oh, well, this is a party, isn't it?" Patton's voice floats into the room. "What're we doing?"

The sight of Logan appearing behind him is enough to snap the rubber band in Roman's chest. He snatches the other notebook from the coffee table and sinks into his room, shoving a chair underneath the door handle and yanking open the door to his closet, huddling in the dark with his precious cargo clutched to his chest. His breaths ring out in the dark, cramped space and it soon grows muggy and stuffy from the force of it. The notebooks wheeze in his grip. He closes his eyes and presses his forehead to the spiral until he's sure it's left a mark on his forehead.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid Roman, letting himself give into those urges again. Why did he run away? Now they're all going to be talking about him again, like he's still something they have to work on, not like he's a person with needs and boundaries that they just keep pushing in ways that he can't deal with. Not now, not like this, not when he's holding what's basically his heart in his hands and they're right there looking at it. If he were working on Thomas's things, it'd be different, because he knows how to get flayed for those, he has practice with that, but not with this.

Well, Roman, he hears Logan's voice in the back of his head say, if you didn't want anyone to know about it or ask about it, you wouldn't have been working on it in a public space.

Maybe you all could fuck off and leave me be and let me do whatever I want, how about that? But he won't say that, even though he wants to, because they would never let him get away with being angry out loud like that. Not Roman, not like that, not about this. So he ran because it was easier in the short term even though he knows, he knows they're going to rip him to shreds about it later.

***

He was right.

"We just want to understand, kiddo," Patton's saying, like Virgil can't hear the way Roman's trying not to heave his lungs out of his throat, "it—I understand that it made you feel upset when Virgil asked you what you were doing, but do you get why it was a little hurtful that you just ran away without answering him at all?"

He just nods silently. He really didn't mean to hurt Virgil, but honestly Virgil wasn't really the problem. It was the fact that everyone else came at once and they were all standing around him and he was curled up on the couch with his hands shoved into the cushions like they could hide his soul from them because he didn't want to be hurt and it wasn't ready to breathe around someone that wasn't him.

"Roman? Kiddo? Are you listening to me?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Can you tell me what happened?"

He swallows. This is a trap. It almost always is. "I was working. Virgil startled me. I…I lied about what I was doing and Janus appeared."

"Why did you lie?"

"Because he was scared, Pat," Virgil breaks in. Patton looks away for a second and Roman can breathe again. "He lied because he was scared. Honestly, I think if any of us had spooked him and asked what he was doing I would've gotten summoned because he was scared."

"Oh." Patton looks back at him. "I…I wish you wouldn't be scared of us, kiddo."

Do you think I want to be scared of you? Do you think I'm doing this on purpose? Do you think that when I woke up this morning I went 'yeah, I'm gonna be so scared of the people who are supposed to be my family that I'm gonna run away whenever they so much as talk to me?' Is that what you think is going on?

But Roman can't say that, so he just bows his head and tries not to let Patton see the anger that escapes to flicker over his face.

"Can you tell us what it was now? Now that you know Virgil's not going to hurt you or anything?"

"I didn't think he was going to hurt me."

"That's good! He's not gonna do it now either, and neither am I."

"I know."

Patton grins and raises his eyebrows like he's waiting for something. He is. He's waiting for Roman to tell him what he was working on. Behind him, he can see Virgil making a face.

"You don't have to tell us, Princey. It's cool. I was, uh, I was just looking for something to talk about. We, um, there's a new map on the co-op game that I was gonna tell you about."

"Oh, that sounds fun!" Patton gestures between them. "Why don't you two go play it?"

"Now?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Uh, sure, Princey, if you're up for it. We can, uh, we can go do it in the game room."

"…sure."

"That'll be fun. You two kiddos can tell us all about it at dinner." Patton grins and reaches out to pat Roman on the shoulder and Roman manages to make himself stand still for it. "Have a good time, okay?"

Roman nods wordlessly as he sinks out with Virgil. They appear in the corner of the library with bean bags and the game stuff. Virgil scratches the back of his head.

"I, uh, I'm sorry, Princey. I really didn't mean to make this such a big deal. We don't have to play right now if you don't want to."

"It's fine. It's not your fault. And I want to play."

"You sure? I can always tell Pat we tried and then changed our minds—"

"No. Let's play."

Virgil still eyes him as he sets it up, as if he could tell better than Roman if he really has the capacity to do something like this right now, but eventually they both just sit down and boot the game and play the new map.

It's fun. The mechanics are still frustrating when they don't work right. The graphics are good and the art style still makes Roman think of that one place in the Imagination where the rocks sit very close together on the coast and the water glimmers from the cracks in between them when the waves wash up near the grass. Virgil doesn't try to talk about anything other than the game while they play. In the pit of his stomach, slowly growing, is the certainty that he's going to be asked about this later and he's going to have to talk about it.

"Hey," Virgil says quietly when they're waiting for a loading screen to finish, "uh, I don't wanna freak you out again or anything, but I can…I can tell you're worrying about something right now."

"It's fine."

A pause as the Imagination ripples. Janus can't detect any lies in here, which means he can't be summoned because of one, and technically it wasn't a lie. Roman is fine right now. Virgil coughs into his hand.

"Just letting you know that if you want to talk or have me listen to stuff, I will."

"Thanks."

The screen finishes loading and they keep playing.

***

There are many castles in the Imagination, not just the main fairytale one near the big double door entrance and Remus's tall black tower on his side. One of them, nestled in the dip of the mountains near the edge of the crystal lake is an expanse of soft grey stone, almost perpetually lit by lavender skies and a pale pink moon. The underwater caverns are nearby, after all, and due to the way the clouds form from the heat during the day, they only clear at night when the air cools off. Long gardens frame the clear streams that cover the castle's grounds, filled with flowering trees and small ornamental shrubs. The evening finds Roman tending carefully to one of the small ponds near the northern end of the walking paths, carefully fishing out the fallen twigs and weeds. Moonlight shimmers off the surface as the bag at his side slowly fills. The cool water is a mercy on his hands, still tingling and achy from the day before.

Logan gave them all a presentation on how emotions can manifest physically in the body once. Virgil talked about how Thomas holds his stress in certain parts of himself and Patton added how sometimes he'll get sore when Thomas is feeling a lot. Roman didn't bring up the fact that he gets bruised as the Ego too, because they would've made jokes about it—and given him more bruises—but he thought about it a lot in the few days afterwards because he needed a way to make the bruises go away without the others noticing them.

As he dips his hand into the water again, he lets his breathing get a little shaky as the water laps at his knuckles and palm. It's not like a burn, where the skin is hot and achy and throbbing, but it's the same sort of heat. Where he's just sort of hurting and it makes him hot and gross and he just wants it out of him. He's wearing short sleeves tonight, so he doesn't feel too bad about dipping his arm in all the way to the elbow, letting the water wash the vulnerable skin on the underside of his forearm. The sensation of something just there leaves him breathless for a moment, before it shudders out of him again. It laps against the vein in the crook of his elbow and his eyes grow heavy for a moment. A warm breeze blows over the back of his neck and he closes his eyes. The juxtaposition between the warm and cold parts of him make it a little easier to clench and unclench his fingers.

He opens his eyes again. As he moves his arm gently back and forth, the reflection of the moon distorts and coalesces, breaking apart and reforming as easily as, well, as water flowing over stones. He does it a few more times, just enjoying the way the water feels, before he pulls his arm out and dries it on his shirt. He reaches for another fallen twig and puts it in the bag.

The others don't know about this castle. They don't know about this dip in the mountains, they don't know about this garden, they don't know about this pond.

He switches the bag to his other side and dips his other arm in the cool water.

***

"Well, I think that's everything I have," Logan says, adjusting his glasses, "is there anything else?"

"Nope!" Remus bounces on the balls of his feet. "Can't wait to get started!"

"Let's hear from everyone else, Remus, before we do that, but I love your enthusiasm."

"Aw, thanks, Pat-Pat."

Patton giggles and glances at the others. Virgil shrugs and Janus makes a slightly offhand waving gesture. Logan looks at Roman who quickly looks down at the sheet of notes in front of him. He tries to read over them again but the letter swim until the page just looks like it's covered in squiggles.

"Roman? You okay, kiddo?"

"Yes."

Janus doesn't quite hiss, but he must do something to signal to Patton and Logan that he's lying. "Roman, if you've got a question, you can ask it."

Trap. Trap. That is a trap and I do not want to be scolded right now. "I'm just thinking about it. You know, I—these are things that I'm gonna do so I'm just…thinking."

"You just gave these to us," Remus adds and Roman leans into him without thinking about it, "you gotta let the brain juices brain juice for a bit before we're gonna have much of anything."

"But you just said you couldn't wait to get started?"

"Yeah, me, Pat, 'cause that's how my brain juices juice. I gotta go start throwing stuff at walls. Ro's not like me, Ro's like Ro. So you gotta let him be like Ro."

"I see," Patton says in the indulgent-not-indulgent tone that always makes Roman's ears ring, "well—"

"How about this: I have a few other things I need to go and work on," Logan says, "and then if Roman has anything he'd like to talk about, he can come and find me later?"

"Yes," Roman blurts out before anyone else can say anything, "yeah, that'd be—that'd be good, thanks, Logan."

"Of course. Come knock on my door whenever you'd like, alright?"

"Great, that's all settled!" Remus's hand is warm and solid on his shoulder. "Bye!"

He sinks them out and into Roman's room, quickly wrapping his arm around Roman's waist as they sit heavily on the ground. Roman's breath catches slightly in his throat and he quickly tosses the notes onto his desk before he can mess them up. That awful curdling feeling in his stomach wriggles and writhes and Remus pulls him to his chest.

"Hey, hey, Ro, it's over now. It's over now, we're in your room, it's just me."

Roman squeezes his eyes shut and turns to burrow into Remus's hold. Remus lets him do it without complaint. He won't get in trouble for being a mess around Remus. Remus won't care. Remus will be happy if he's being a mess because then it means he's not holding it in and hurting himself and Remus can actually help him. He won't be mad if Roman's messy or upset right now. He stood up for Roman when it was getting bad again. He got the others to leave him alone at least for long enough that they could get out. But isn't that running? Didn't Roman just make Remus help him run away? Isn't that just as bad as him running away by himself? Is he going to be in trouble for that too?

"Hey, Roro," comes Remus's voice in his ear, "stay with me. Come give me a cuddle, okay? Just come here, stay right here with me, everything's over now, it's just you and me and I want you to cuddle me because it'll make us both feel better."

Roman does. He wraps his arms around Remus and lets Remus topple them to the floor and squish out all the parts that are making his stomach feel like it's trying to tie itself into knots. His chest feels all achy again and he's so frustrated, because he doesn't want to be like this, he didn't use to be like this, but now it's like he can't go through two conversations without having to run away.

Remus is warm. Remus is solid and warm and safe and he's right here and he's not going anywhere. He can be okay with that for a little while. The longer he sits with this awful shit in his stomach the worse it's going to be when he eventually has to deal with it because his body is stupid like that sometimes and he hates it, he hates everything about it, but right now he has Remus here to love and he'd rather spend that time cuddling his brother than hating the fact that he's so fucking fragile that he can't even talk about things anymore.

Remus must summon some sort of blanket because there's more weight on top of him now and he actually manages to let out a breath when he feels it. He peeks out from Remus's shoulder and sees a version of their old blanket forts covering them. Sheets make the light into pretty colors and there's a gentle breeze through one end. There are blankets covering them, enough to make Roman feel soft and small in the way that you only feel when you're still too young and the bed feels like an ocean and the blankets are comforting creatures that just want to hold and protect you. Remus shuffles down a little to wrap his arms more securely around Roman and oh, he feels—it's—he's—

"Stay here with me for a little," Remus murmurs, pressing his cheek against Roman's, "we're safe in here, okay? Can we do that?"

Roman nods. He tucks his nose back into the crook of Remus's neck and just breathes.

***

He texts Logan. He doesn't want to risk hanging out in the hallway for longer than necessary and if he has to walk there and walk back he doesn't need the added weight of failing to do something as simple as visit someone. Logan texts back right away that he's welcome to come over. He can't decide whether that's a good thing or not and so, before he can overthink it, he texts again asking if he can sink in.

It takes Logan a moment longer to say he can and Roman breathes a sigh of relief. He gathers up his stuff and sinks carefully into Logan's room, appearing just by the door. Logan looks up from his desk and smiles, actually smiles, getting up to go over to him.

"Roman," he says, and fuck, he's talking in that sweet soft voice again, "thank you for coming."

"Thanks for letting me sink in."

"Of course." He motions toward the desk and the second chair. Roman sits down, carefully keeping everything in his lap. "What questions can I answer for you?"

"The, um, they're just small questions, sorry. I just—I was looking over the bit you said about the pacing that you guys wanted and I'm—I don't think I get…it."

"Alright. Let me just pull up my notes…there. Okay, the pacing—can I ask what it is you don't get about it?"

"Maybe you can—sorry, can you just…go over it? Maybe I took my notes wrong."

Something flickers across Logan's expression but he nods and starts going over it. Roman follows along with his notes and sure enough, he hasn't necessarily missed anything, but it feels like there's a piece of the puzzle that Logan can see that he just can't find. When Logan finishes, he bites his lip for a long moment before he glances up. A furrow forms between Logan's brows when he sees what Roman's doing but he doesn't comment on it.

"I just—I'm sorry, I promise I'm paying attention—"

"I know you are, Roman, you don't need to apologize." When Roman hesitates, Logan adjusts his tie and leans a bit closer. "I'm not going to be angry at you, Roman, I give you my word. You came here to ask questions, I am here to work with you to find answers. You are not doing something wrong, I won't be angry, you needn't apologize for anything."

Roman just stares at him. Actually stares, because who the fuck is this and what did they do with Logan? As if he could hear the thought, Logan smiles ruefully and takes off his glasses to clean them.

"What Remus said, about letting you work through things in the way you need to, something in it resonated with me. I suppose I've been—no, I have been taking you for granted in the past with these projects, or at the very least not appreciating the extent of what you do. I'm making an effort to be better about it."

"Oh."

"Is…I know you've only been here for a few minutes, but is it working at all?"

"Yeah. This is…nice. I like being able to talk to you."

Logan smiles. He actually smiles at him and fuck, Roman's not going to start crying right now. He's not gonna. "I like talking to you as well, Roman."

He swallows heavily and looks back down at the notes. "I think I'm confused as to why you've decided to go with this structure. It feels…I don't know how to describe it, but it doesn't—with the way it's been described to me, it feels like it's uneven."

"Uneven how, if you wouldn't mind explaining further?"

"Like—if you're loading passengers onto a train, it kind of feels like you're putting a lot of people in the first car, and then like, two or three in the next few, and then everyone else in the back cars. Does that—I'm sorry, that probably doesn't make any sense at all."

"No, no, I believe I understand. You think the distribution of events is off, correct? The flow of it stagnates in some places and moves too quickly for the audience in others?"

"Yeah."

"What would you suggest, then, to improve it?" Now Roman well and truly stares at him, so much so that he chuckles. "What?"

"You're asking me?"

"You are Creativity," he says, still in that sweet and gentle voice, "I daresay you have far more experience and knowledge of how to do something like this than I do."

Roman looks back down at the notes. Now that this isn't a to-do list anymore, it's a sandbox that he actually gets to play in, he doesn't—he can't—he doesn't know the answer anymore. He doesn't know what he's going to do. Is he going to do something? "C-can I—I need time."

"Of course. I would expect nothing less. Will you let me know if you need a sounding board or when you've got something you think is workable?" He nods. "Lovely."

It takes a few more moments of them sitting there in silence for Roman to realize Logan isn't going to tell him to leave.

"Do you want me to go?"

"If you want to, I've no means to keep you here. I also understand the appeal of co-working in a space, so if you'd like to, you can."

"Wait—you'd let me—but I—"

Logan tilts his head slightly when Roman's words die in his throat. After another moment, he slowly reaches out and runs his hand through Roman's hair, cupping the side of his face. Roman's eyes flutter shut at the contact, breathing in the smell of old books and ink as Logan just holds him. He'd done this when Roman was having a panic attack too; he just touched his cheek and the shock of it interrupted the worst of the feedback loop and then he'd just sat there, letting Roman rest his head in his hand and breathe. It had been so small, it shouldn't have reached into Roman's chest the way it did, but it was a small thing of just I'm here, I'll be here with you for a moment, that it took his breath away.

It takes his breath away again now, Logan's hand just there, supporting his head. After a moment, he hears the creak of a chair and the grip shifts slightly, then another hand cards through his hair and he opens his eyes to see Logan standing over him.

"I am sorry," he whispers, "that I have hurt you to the point where you believe me to be an authority figure out to get you. I am truly sorry, little one. Yes, you can work in here with me if you like. Yes, you can ask questions and take the time you need to work on things at your own pace. I will not be angry, I will not be upset, I give you my word."

"You were so mean," Roman nearly whimpers back.

"I know, little one, I'm sorry. I was cruel and arrogant and you didn't deserve any of it. I falsely believed that I could…control you, as horrible as that is to say out loud, that I could in some way improve Thomas's efficiency by being so rigorous and strict." He crouches down so Roman doesn't have to look up anymore. "But that's not true, and all I've done instead is cause you pain and strife. So I'm not going to be like that anymore."

"You're gonna be nice."

"Yes, exactly, little one. I'm going to be nice." He smiles and strokes Roman's cheek. "I like being nice to you."

"I like when you're—when you're nice too."

"Then this should work out splendidly."

***

"Logan tells me you've been making good progress with the script," Patton says during a pause in the dinner conversation and Roman's hand twitches under the table.

"It's going okay."

There's another long pause before Patton laughs. It's not a very happy laugh. "Are you going to tell us anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Like maybe what about it is going well? Are there things that you didn't expect? Are there things you need help with?"

Roman swallows some water and jams his hand between his leg and the chair. "There's not a lot to talk about. It's just…going."

"You used to be so enthusiastic about talking about your work, kiddo."

"Shit happens, Pat-Pat," Remus grins, "nuts and bolts and squids and ink and all that."

"Yeah, that's how I remember the saying going too."

"Language, Remus, and besides, like you said, your process is different from Roman's. Maybe it's not like that for him."

Roman bites his lip and puts more food in his mouth. Patton won't ask him things when he's actively eating. Across the table, he glimpses Virgil and Janus sharing a look and then Virgil's kicking Remus under the table.

"Hey!"

"You deserve it for reminding me about the time you decided to turn our couch into a giant octopus."

"But that was fun!"

"Having hickies the size of basketballs on my ass for three weeks was not fun, Remus, Thomas couldn't sit down on a sofa for like, a month after that."

"Not to mention the fact that the bear trap was left out in Virgil's hallway."

"Yeah—wait, it was what?" Janus blinks innocently and Virgil narrows his eyes. "You asshole, you said that you didn't know where it was!"

"Did I say that?"

"Don't get cute right now, J."

"Aww, you think I'm cute?"

The conversation quickly derails into Dark Side hijinks and Roman slips gratefully into the background. He sneaks a glance at Patton just to check that he's no longer about to be put on the spot and sees him alternating between bemusement and exasperation. He's safe for now. He goes back to eating and completely misses the concerned look Logan shoots him about halfway through dessert.

***

"Roman," Logan says one evening when the two of them are alone in the living room, "I'd like to go on one of those walks in the Imagination with you again. Would that be alright?"

"Like—the ones on the path near the flower fields?"

"Yes, there. That would be perfect."

"Um, okay. Do you want to go now?"

"If that suits you. There's still an hour or so before movie night officially starts."

"Sure."

Logan smiles and the two of them go up to the Imagination's double doors. Roman pushes them open and late-afternoon sunlight shines over rolling hills of blooming flowers, a single dirt path framed by elegant wooden fences tracing through the sweeps and contours of the valley. Logan carefully takes one of his hands and starts to walk, letting Roman decide the pace. A gentle breeze wafts the aroma of the new blooms through the air. Clouds tinged with orange and pale pink drift across the sky. The grass rustles and their feet crunch lightly along the path.

They walk past a tree growing atop one of the hills and Logan takes a deep breath.

"Little one?"

"Mhm?"

"I have a question for you that you needn't answer."

"Okay?"

"I've noticed that you…when Patton talks to you," Logan begins and Roman's hand twitches. He pauses, taking the hand in both of his and pressing his lips to it. "Precisely."

Roman swallows. "You want to know why?"

"If you would be comfortable telling me, yes."

He's quiet for a long while. Logan doesn't push. They walk up and down a few more hills before he sighs. Logan guides him over to a bench and they sit in the warm silence together.

"Do you…I don't know if you remember this," Roman says quietly, "when Thomas was struggling with being gay."

"I remember the time frame, yes."

"Did you know that was the last time Janus and Patton agreed on something before the, um, before they all came back?"

"I suppose I knew it in an abstract way, or at least it was something I knew to be true, but I didn't—no, I didn't know that was the last time."

He falls quiet again. The prickle along his skin is back. The ache in his chest blooms anew. Old wounds press against the inflamed nerves hidden under layers and layers of scar tissue. He feels heavy.

"They were so sure they were right."

"That they were right?"

"Yeah."

***

"You know how this goes, Roman," Patton says, his voice as hard as a ruler smacking against Roman's knuckles, "the prince falls in love with the princess. He saves her, they get married, happily ever after. You know better than to say something stupid like that."

"But it's not stupid! It's not—"

"Roman." Now Janus looks at him with that falsely pitying condescension. "You want to tell good stories, right? You want to tell stories that people will like, that they'll praise you for, right? You want to be good for the people you're telling stories for, don't you?"

"Well…"

"You know how to be good." Patton folds his arms. "You'll tell the right stories. You will, won't you?"

Roman's throat prickles. He twists his hands into the cover of his notebook. Janus raises an eyebrow, reaching out to snatch it from him. He yelps, scrabbling to get it back, but more arms hold him back as Janus flips through it. His eyebrow keeps raising higher.

"Well, well, well. Looks as though our little prince isn't as honorable as he claims to be."

Hot, thick shame bubbles up in his mouth. Patton holds his hand out and Roman tries to lunge for the book but Janus squeezes his side, making him collapse into the rest of his hands. Patton turns the pages and each one feels like it's ripping his skin off. He doesn't stop thrashing, not until Janus snaps at him to be still. Patton's mouth hardens into a thin line and he sighs like he's disappointed.

He takes the book and drops it into the trash can.

"No! Give it back, it's mine, it's not yours, you can't do that."

"Stop."

Roman grits his teeth and yanks against Janus's grip because Janus is grabbing him and it hurts and it's not fair that he's getting hurt when he didn't even do anything wrong. Patton steps close enough that Roman can't avoid looking at him and just waits for Roman to tire himself out.

"Apologize."

"What? No, I'm not going to apologize! I didn't do anything wrong! You're the ones who hurt me and stole my stuff!"

"If you're so sure you didn't do anything wrong, then why did you try and hide the notebook?" He takes a step closer when Roman doesn't say anything. "Why did you try to lie to us? Why wouldn't you tell us what you were making? You knew it was wrong, Roman, you knew it all along and you did it anyway because you didn't care. You didn't care that it was hurting us, hurting Thomas. And you did it anyway. Do you know what that means?"

There's a lump in his throat.

"That makes you selfish, Roman. That makes you very, very selfish. That's not very prince-like, is it?"

"…no."

"I asked you a question."

"No."

Patton's quiet for a moment. Then: "there won't be any daydreams for Thomas until the end of the month."

Roman's head jerks up. "What? You can't do that!"

"Thomas needs to have good dreams. Daydreams are already a privilege, as Logan said. If you can't be trusted to give Thomas good dreams, you don't get the reward of being allowed to daydream."

"But that's not fair!"

Patton raises an eyebrow. "Do you think you've behaved in a way that deserves a reward? Or a privilege? Have you been good?"

"Don't lie," Janus sings, still tugging on his arms and poking him in the side, "I'll know if you lie."

"Roman, I asked you a question."

Roman doesn't say anything. Janus pokes him again. He doesn't say anything. He gets poked again.

"Stop poking me!" He yanks his arm away from Janus's grip. "Let me go! You're being mean!"

"My, my, Roman, what a temper you have. We've been talking using our inside voices, why are you shouting?"

"He's right, Roman."

"What do you mean he's right? He was poking me!"

"And that gives you the right to shout at both of us?" Patton's voice makes Roman shrivel up. He sighs again and it hurts. "I'm disappointed in you, Roman. I thought you'd know better by now."

"Maybe I do know better. You're not Romance, you're not Creativity, what if I know better than you do?"

Patton raises his eyebrows.

The room gets cold.

Janus chuckles in the background as Roman gets smaller and smaller and smaller—

***

Roman blinks. He thinks about the story he'd told himself when he was younger to fall asleep faster, about the two boys in the village who went to go explore a nearby forest and fell in love. He thinks about the notebook thrown in a trashcan that he never saw again. He thinks about the bruise on his side and the locks on the Imagination that burned his fingers whenever he tried to touch them.

He thinks about hearing Remus cackling joyfully on the other side and wondering why he had to be good when Remus didn't just to enjoy being himself.

He thinks about feeling like a puppet. He thinks about strings and wooden handles and smiling when it hurt and talking with words that weren't from his own mouth. He thinks about tears and sniffles and hissed whispers and too-red noses. He thinks about aching hands and twisted stomachs and chests that wouldn't stop feeling like someone's hand was in there, rummaging around. He thinks about standing very still as someone else talked about something he tried to talk about years ago, he thinks about the rage building up on the underside of his tongue, he thinks about the phantom sting across his knuckles from when someone ordered him to be good and apologize.

He thinks about how much it hurts and how scared it makes him.

He hasn't said any of this to Logan. He just said that they were so certain they were right and Logan seemed to understand what he meant. He let Logan pull him in for a hug and promise that he would try and help in any way he could. He knows Logan's been watching them interact now, that Logan's been seeing how scared he is whenever Patton tries to make him talk about something he doesn't want to. He knows Logan's been talking to him quietly and gently and being nice and it helps. It does.

But he knows it can't last forever.

***

It doesn't.

***

The wolf is the one to find him. He's tucked deep into a crevice in the mountainside, the wind whipping across the rock. He lost feeling in his fingers long ago. The shadow falls over him and he barely blinks. A nose the size of his chest nudges his head and jaws that could swallow houses part to take him in between sharp teeth.

He's carried back to the safety of the forest, laid on his side as the wolf laps at his numb, scraped limbs, just this side of too rough. He stares into the darkness with salt crusted at the corners of his eyes. The wolf huffs and curls around him, blowing warm air over his freezing body before lifting his nose to let out a long, almost mournful howl.

Wings. A distant cry. The ground shakes.

Snuffling scales and warmth, true warmth. A tail wrapping around him as another snout nudges its way into his chest. His dragon rumbles as the wolf resettles, the two wrapping themselves about him as though he were nothing but a little mouse, shivering and scared in the too-big world.

***

"Hey, Princey," Virgil says quietly as Roman steps through the door, the wolf nudging him all the way through, "don't worry, we're not here to yell at you or anything, we, uh, we wanna help."

Roman eyes him warily, hardly daring to look at Janus for too long.

"Remus and Logan are still talking with Patton. They're not gonna be done for a while. We're here to help you, okay? That's it." Roman doesn't move. "We can—shit, Princey, you're bleeding."

He looks down. Oh. So he is. He hears a shuffling and jerks his head back up to see Virgil holding a first aid kit. He gestures wordlessly between it and Roman and after a very, very long moment, Roman nods.

"Okay. I'm gonna come over and just clean it, okay?" Roman nods. "Thanks. I'm gonna…start moving now."

Janus doesn't move an inch, his concerned expression remaining fixed on Roman's arm until Virgil pronounces it clean. Then, and only then, does he look up to meet Roman's gaze and stand. Roman flinches, Virgil steadying him, and Janus stops. Slowly, deliberately, he takes off his gloves—all of them, all six hands, and takes a step forward. Roman's breathing picks up and Virgil squeezes his shoulder.

"I won't let him hurt you," he says softly, and Janus doesn't even react. Instead, he keeps coming closer. "Just—it's okay, Roman. He's here to help too."

Janus stops right in front of him and—oh. One hand fits around the back of his neck, another around his shoulders, one around his waist—oh, no—

"Oh, sweetie," he hears distantly as his knees buckle, "you poor thing, shh, shh, hush now, it's going to be okay."

His mind goes haywire. Janus doesn't do this, not with him, not like this. Janus isn't this gentle, this tender, this kind, whatever you want to call it. There are so many hands rubbing his back, running fingers up and down, or just holding him, there's a soft voice in his ear and he's lying against something solid and safe. There are kisses on his temples, his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, he's shaking, he's so scared.

"I don't know what to do," he hears distantly, "he's—Virgil, what do I do?"

"He's scared shitless, J, he doesn't know what's going on."

"I know, I know, I just—" another kiss, a harder one, pressed right to the crown of his head— "oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise, you've been so brave and so strong, my sweet prince…my sweet, sweet prince…"

Roman's hands twitch. He touches the fabric of Janus's cloak and holds a single fold between his fingers.

"Yes, yes, that's it, it's okay, you can hold onto me. I've got you, you see? I've got you and you're safe and everything's okay. You're okay, you're safe, I'm going to look after you from now on, I promise. It's okay, sweetie, oh, you've been so brave…"

"…Janus?"

"Yes, sweetie? What is it, what do you need?"

"Are…are you mad at me?"

He feels Janus's chest stutter against his own. "No, sweetie, I'm not mad at you. You didn't do anything wrong, you're so good."

"G-good?"

"Yes, sweetie, you're so good. You've been so good, it's okay, you're safe now, you're going to be just fine, I'm going to help look after you, and so will Virgil and Remus and Logan—we're all looking after you right now, okay? It's okay."

…well, fuck.

***

He's not left alone with Patton for a while after that. Remus sticks closely by his side for any meetings, Virgil's always lurking in a room somewhere wherever Roman is, and Logan texts him throughout the day with random little facts and interesting things he's learned. It doesn't feel bad, per se, to have all of them looking out for him like this, but it doesn't feel good either.

Patton does explain that what he's been trying to do is encourage some of Roman's old habits—talking about his stuff, sharing his opinions—but he didn't know that it was making Roman so scared. He's not thrilled about the fact that Roman's so scared of him, but hey, neither is Roman. They manage to find a way to coexist that doesn't involve the others acting like a barrier between them, but it isn't easy.

He spends more time in the Imagination with the others, showing them the places that he and Remus built when they were younger. They play games and watch movies and spend time together outside of working on things.

Then there's a movie night where only Patton and Roman show up early. It's…not easy.

But then Patton makes a joke that only he and Roman knew and the rest of them arrive downstairs to hear the two of them laughing their heads off.

And…yeah, maybe things aren't beyond fixing after all.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[astranite]

Static Does Not Mean Still

Scott and Virgil go on a run in a nearby park to burn off some energy after an easy rescue, and the prompt 'Static electricity' is also involved in here somewhere thanks to @gumnut-logic's Unusual Whump List

This is about fluff and joyful brothers getting to run around in the sunshine. And a bit of ADHD Scott and the Hyperactivity. They are having fun and I had fun writing this.

Also thank you to @edutainer2022 for talking about this as a wip, and about Scott getting to put down his burdens and the weight of responsibility for a while to be carefree with his brothers.

---

Any rescues where no one came away bruised, bleeding and/or catastrophically exhausted were always a win in Virgil’s book. This was one of them. 

The engineering foam deployed from Two had stabilised the overpass bridge structure exactly as it was supposed to before further infrastructure damage could be caused, especially to the railway line below, the main concern which had resulted in International Rescue’s call out. 

Virgil had got to put his engineering degree expertise to good use, handover to the local authorities was smooth and professional with plenty of admiration on both sides for how the incident was handled, and no fancy jetpacking was even required to Scott’s disappointment.

It was a great day all in all to be finishing at noon on a Tuesday. The sun was shining, their work for now was done and everyone commuting would be able to get home safely when the rush hour hit in the evening. 

Virgil took off his helmet to put it away with the gear and ran a hand through his somewhat sweaty hair, grinning at Scott as he walked up to him. 

“Hey Scotty.”

“Virge!”

Scott had ditched his helmet as soon as the rescue was over and he got the all clear from Virgil which was a big improvement on protocol following and not taking unnecessary risks. 

In the meantime his hair had fallen into disarray but Scott didn’t seem to mind. He put an arm around Virgil’s shoulders to give him a squeeze before going back to pacing circles on the module floor, gesturing wildly at John’s little hologram as they talked rapid fire. Something, theoretical mathematics, something. Virgil, unlike other members of the family preferred the more concrete and applicable to what was in the world in front of him branches of engineering.

Virgil did also have big brother jittering at his side with pent up energy and a flight home in his green girl that was apparently ‘not nyoooomy enough’ for Scott’s liking to get through without anyone exploding. 

Scott’s hyperactivity wasn’t a bad thing, never had been when it was just how Scott was. Virgil was far happier that Scott was letting it show instead of turning it to inwards frustration and internal stress, but they did have a flight to get through which would be a lot more comfortable for them both without Scott’s frenetic energy vibrating the whole cockpit as he eyed the flight controls like he wanted to tackle them from Virgil’s hands to do aerobatics in a cargo plane. 

Thunderbird One was in for maintenance as Brains and Virgil worked on replacing burnt out engines which meant Scott couldn’t go for the mad loop the looping he favoured to let off steam. Virgil’s ‘bird was a Thunderbird: she was extremely capable and manoeuvrable for her size, but stunt jet she was not designed to be. 

Pulling up a map on his wrist controller, Virgil turned to Scott. “How about we get out for a bit, go for a walk? There’s even a park nearby.”

It’d be a good opportunity to burn off some energy, even if the walk would turn into a run when his brother was involved. Virgil was happy to follow him though.

Scott changed track mid-sentence, charging for the module door as he continued to chatter to an amused John. There was no eye roll from him, only the softest fond smile.

Virgil blinked and Scott was calling back to him. Alright, they were going suited and booted in IR uniforms then. 

“Okay, I’m coming, Scooter!” Virgil had to jog to catch up with those long legs. Predictably.

Scott noticed, of course he did. He was stopped to bump shoulders with Virgil, bouncing on his toes to stay in one spot.

“Short stuff,” he sung out affectionately.

Out under the blue sky, with plenty time to spare and no where to immediately be, Scott was cheerful. John could call them back to Two if they were needed elsewhere but right now they had this. 

Scott spun around laughing his head off when they reached the open park. Virgil couldn’t help but join him, as where else would he want to be but by his brother’s side?

Then Scott set off sprinting down full tilt down the gently sloping grassy area, as Virgil ambled along at a more reasonable pace that gave him the opportunity to look at the native trees in blossom, so different from the ones at home but equally beautiful in his mind. Okay, now he was by his brother’s side metaphorically, even if not physically. 

Still, he began to run too as Scott looped back to return to him, meeting him halfway. Moving his body felt good, even if he wasn’t a compulsive early morning runner.

Scott crashed into him, catching him in a tight hug. Virgil returned it with the same enthusiasm until he lifted Scott’s feet off the ground to spin him around just to show big brother that he had it. The big brother in question cackled with delight.

He leant into Virgil and said quietly, “Thank you. I really needed this.”

Virgil held him close for that moment. “Anytime.”

Then Scott was ready to be off again, or not quite. He bounced from foot to foot, waiting for Virgil to follow as he eyed the empty playground equipment longingly. 

Virgil made a shooing motion. “Go have fun, I’m coming.”

He shook his head fondly as Scott dashed towards the brightly coloured construction. Ever since they were kids, Scott had never been able to resist a climbing frame, or scratch that, any opportunity to climb whether the structure in question was designed for it or not. 

Virgil sent a quick photograph of a joyful Scott mid-flight to John. 

In the seconds it took to do that and read John’s reply of orange hearts, Scott had scaled the towering rope structure, perching himself at the very top, one casual hand wrapped around it to hang on as he waved to Virgil.

John got another photo as Virgil made sure to zoom in far enough to capture Scott’s broad grin.

It would make John’s day; just like him, his space brother treasured every moment of happy Scott. Those photos would find their way into the shared family album sure enough.

Scott’s joy was precious because it was too rare for him to be able to let go of the burdens he carried for long enough to indulge in carefree happiness. That he was simply allowed to, that his brothers and everyone in his life wanted this for him was a novel concept that Virgil watched Scott still struggle to believe in.

As Scott swung his way around the climbing frame, Virgil settled on the swingset, rocking himself slowly as he scuffed out the beginnings of a drawing of One and Two in the dirt with his foot, his hands tapping the notes of an entire orchestra out on the chains. Unlike John, he didn’t try to swing high enough to launch himself into orbit, but Virgil did enjoy it. 

Sharper marks from the edge of his boot formed the action lines streaking away from the wings of a certain rocket plane. The rounder toe was used to sketch out Two’s curved fuselage. He used the tread to add some extra patterning around the Thunderbirds to stand in for blocky clouds streaking by. It was coming along well. 

This was how Virgil wanted to spend his time: making art because he felt like it with Scott close by and having fun where he didn’t have to worry about him.

Or only a little. A sudden yell of, “Ow!” came from the slides. 

From the volume and the high pitch, he judged Scott was surprised, not injured.

Virgil had to check though, but sure enough Scott was rubbing his forehead with a dramatic frown as he glared at a bar near the entrance of the slide. 

“You alright, Scooter?” 

“These are designed for short people,” Scott grumped.

If he was complaining, that meant it really was a minor bump so Scott wasn’t worried about worrying Virgil with it. 

“Anyone’s short next to you,” Virgil teased.

“Hey!” Scott’s indignant cry echoed through the slide tube. 

So did the mutter that followed. “Easy to say for someone who’s not even average height.”

Virgil hummed. He wasn’t going to immediately launch himself off to grab Scott in a headlock. He finished off his drawing, took a photo of it to send to John and so he could keep it, then jumped off the swing carefully to land on clear ground. But they were brothers and he wasn’t going to let the insult to his pride stand uncontested. 

Scott was oblivious, already having turned to climb the tower again to take another turn on the slide, already over his own bump. Virgil followed, clambering up after him, wary of the low bars too ‘cause he wasn’t that short . 

At the top, they met and Virgil grinned at Scott, gesturing for him to go first. Somewhere along the way, probably after getting too hot gambolling about, Scott had rolled down the upper half of his flight suit and tied it around his waist, leaving him in a wrinkled Denver college t-shirt. Virgil’s shirt, but that didn’t matter. The important detail for Virgil’s plot was that his arms were bare and in easy reach. 

Scott disappeared down the slide with a whoop. Virgil went after him, not even pausing to admire the view from the top of the tower over the bright green parklands. He was on a mission. 

Hunching his shoulders in was a precaution as he sat at the beginning of the slide, a just in case as the memory of Gordon’s laughter rung in his ears over the one time Virgl had gotten stuck in a building rubbish chute at demolition turned rescue site trying to slide down it in a ill advised, Scott-like move. Scott probably would’ve pulled it off, he was far too good at insane stunts, but Virgil with his broad shoulders plus his exosuit… hadn’t quite managed it.

“Virge,” Scott called up the slide, laughing, “Do I need to come rescue you this time too?”

Virgil hmphed. By staying right at the bottom, Scott was going to make this very easy for him. Big brother did totally deserve it.

Pushing off, Virgil slid down the slide, leaning into the twists and turns, all the while dragging his gloved hands along the sides. The colours flashed by and he was in all likelihood doing the ‘plotting evil eyebrows’ expression his brothers always caught onto before he could prank them. 

It wasn’t his fault he didn’t have a poker face! But this time it would be far too late for Scott to do anything about it. Never let it be said only John was capable of devious plots when Virgil could plan them out with an engineer’s precision.

Virgil leapt out of the slide, then he innocently tapped Scott on the arm.

Scott jumped a foot in the air and shrieked, “YOU ZAPPED ME VIRGIE!”

The urge to giggle overpowered him as Scott threw his arms around him in what was half-tackle, half-hug. 

“I got you! I got you good! ”

Scott gaped, twisting to look from Virgil to the slide and back again. “You static shocked me.”

“Wouldn’t’ve worked if you were wearing your suit properly, it would’ve dispersed the charge.”

“Oh come on!”

“You called me short.”

“‘Cause it’s true, short stuff. Always has been. And your hair!!” Scott’s smile spread across his face, big and toothy—

Virgil pouted in an attempt not to grin along. “I’ll zap you again.”

—and most importantly happy .

“You’ll have to catch me first!” 

Scott ran off into the sunshine, watching over his shoulder to make sure Virgil was following. Ever the big brother. Ever there for Virgil, now with more care to make sure he wasn’t going too fast to keep up with, not just for their sakes and admittedly shorter legs, but for his own too.

Virgil followed, of course he did. But he did so laughing, not out of fear he’d be too late.

The afternoon was spent chasing joy under blue skies, surrounded by the green earth, until they both flopped down onto the grass together. Even Scott’s frantic energy had completely dispersed. This time, today, it was because of messing about like they were kids again instead of bone-deep exhaustion from hopeless rescues over too long hours in hostile conditions. Virgil treasured it. 

He treasured every second with Scott, from pulling him eagerly back over to the swings to show him the slightly smudgy sketch of their Thunderbirds flying together as Scott adored them, to stopping to get icecream and waffles in lieu of a proper lunch on the walk back to Two on John’s suggestion.

The flight back home to the Island was carefree, with a take away container of icecream in the module freezer for the others and a cheery Scott by his side, both of them humming then along to the upbeat music playing from the speakers. No attempts to squish his staticky hair back into its usual crest had worked in the slightest, but that didn’t matter when Scott’s was just as ridiculous.

Virgil even let himself get convinced into guiding Two through a few loop the loops. And maybe also a couple of dives. Then some barrel rolls. Only because it amused Scott though; Virgil was not going to give him the fuel for future stunts by telling him that just maybe Virgil loved the adrenaline rush of doing aerobatics in his ‘bird like his brother did too.

---

Hope you had fun reading this :D

Now i feel like I need to go find a slide or some swings and some sunshine too!

[sunb0rn]

messages I recieved from two "my" BR (biochem researcher) bbys from Samar.

warms my heart to be appreciated like this ng mga staffs that I handle. sila, both the field and laboratory/office staffs, nalang nag lilift ng spirits ko sa pagttrabaho dito. Its like I want to say na wala na akong pake kung di ako seen ng bosses ko (but fck need nilang mas taasan sahod ko).

just wanna drop this here kasi anxiety so much last friday dahil sa arrangements I am coordinating, re: cargo ng supplies papunta sa field at freight ng samples from the field to our home office.

separate situations yung dalawang messages and yung isa (nasa upper left) lang ang may kinalaman sa recent "arrangements" but both is nasa context na yung BR staffs are having some problem/ misunderstanding with their team leaders.

also, eto yun eh. kaya dapat mas mataas sahod/position ng apat (magiging lima) na designated as project coordinators. WE HANDLE PEOPLE, hindi lang sarili naming trabaho ang dinadala namin, kundi trabaho ng staffs assigned sa amin. In my case, lima (magiging walo) na BR/medtechs, in addition sa full teams namin each, with 10-14 staffs. Anjan pa yung concerns and issues nila. minsan kahit weekend, kailangan ko mag serve as some kind of a "counselor".

for me, duty ko na pangalagaan yung medtechs pero hindi ako pwede maging bias kung nagkaka conflict sila with other staffs especially their TLs. I have to find the right balance with everything and everyone para hindi mag worsen yung situation. Ang bigat na trabaho non.

welcome to my TED Talk. chareng.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from the Nation of Change:

The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) has unveiled a monumental $4.3 billion funding initiative targeting climate pollution and environmental justice across 30 states. This announcement comes as part of the Climate Pollution Reduction Grants program, funded by the Inflation Reduction Act. EPA Administrator Michael Regan emphasized the importance of community-driven solutions to tackle climate change, stating, “President Biden believes in the power of community-driven solutions to fight climate change, protect public health, and grow our economy.”

The Climate Pollution Reduction Grants program, supported by the Inflation Reduction Act, aims to significantly reduce greenhouse gas emissions while promoting environmental justice and economic growth. The selected projects are estimated to cut greenhouse gas emissions by the equivalent of 971 million metric tons by 2050, which is comparable to the energy consumption of 5 million homes over 25 years.

Transportation

One of the major allocations includes $500 million dedicated to decarbonizing freight transportation at the ports of Los Angeles and Long Beach. This funding will support the installation of electric charging equipment, the deployment of zero-emission freight vehicles, and the conversion of cargo handling equipment to reduce emissions.

Energy

Michigan is set to receive $129 million to accelerate its renewable energy projects. This initiative aims to streamline the siting, zoning, and permitting of renewable energy infrastructure, helping the state achieve its goal of 60% renewable energy by 2035.

Industry

Pennsylvania will benefit from $396 million to reduce greenhouse gas emissions from industrial facilities, including cement and asphalt plants. This effort is part of a broader initiative, RISE PA, to target industrial sector emissions and promote cleaner industrial practices.

Agriculture

Nebraska will receive $307 million for sustainable agriculture and energy efficiency projects. These funds will support climate-smart agriculture practices, reduce agricultural waste, improve energy efficiency in commercial and industrial facilities, and deploy solar panels and electrified irrigation wells.

Commercial and residential buildings

The northeastern states of Connecticut, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Hampshire, and Maine will collectively receive $450 million to promote the adoption of cold-climate heat pumps and water heaters. These technologies are crucial for improving energy efficiency in homes and commercial buildings, particularly in regions with harsh winters.

Waste management

The grants will also support various waste management projects aimed at reducing pollution and promoting recycling and waste reduction initiatives. These efforts are vital for minimizing the environmental impact of waste and improving public health.

[heliopauseentertainments]

I actually managed to do a little writing this week, so here's a snippet from Course of Treatment. I'm still nowhere near a full chapter draft, but I've made some progress since I have the partial outline as a guide. Once I make a bit more progress, I'll try write something else for a little variety.

As always, these snippets can contain spoilers.

In one of the larger bays, Megatron found himself in the midst of the bustle, correcting mistakes as mechs jostled into each other and their cargo around him. “Those ablative heat shields are slated for Shuttle 5!” He grabbed a wayward mech—a stubborn soldier by the name of Dropshot, if Megatron remembered correctly—bound for Shuttle 4 and spun him by the shoulders in the right direction. Dropshot, thankfully without a word, scampered off in the right direction as though that had always been his intention. Days like today, Megatron felt more like a nanny at an incubator than the supreme commander of a fearsome army. Soon, he too would be loading up onto one of the shuttles, packed in amongst the crates like the rest of his warriors. Practicality won out over rank. Megatron didn’t strictly need to go on the evaluation expeditions to candidate planets. His subordinates could handle it on their own. Deathsaurus, Bludgeon, and their peers were competent enough. However, it would be wise to at least go to one of the first candidate planets. It would be good for morale to show some personal involvement in the project and it wasn’t often he could get off the ship these days. A chance to step away from some of the more mundane tasks and focus on his faction’s future.

[pants-magic-pants]

okok, one more ✨

so i know you would like to make the other Goblin King outfits. but are there any other characters you would like to cosplay? or that you have already cosplayed?

Thank you for asking! Yeah, I have cosplayed before. None of the proof of it's here because I've designated it as a Labyrinth blog. My interests and projects do not resemble each other at all, and my cosplay history reflects that. hahahaha

Anyway, my last cosplay was the Mad Hatter from Disney's 1992 series "Adventures in Wonderland". The show is extremely dear to me, and I also love the costumes, so I made his entire outfit (vest, tailcoat, pants, spats, collar, bowtie, hat), which were my introductions to making clothes. Didn't crawl before I ran. hahaha It took about 10 months to complete in 2021. A couple of videos of him can be found on my youtube channel.

Before that, I had been closet-cosplaying Dance Magic Jareth from time to time, and had made a much easier less screen accurate version of his ballroom attire minus the coat, and this blog has that content under the "jareth cosplay" tag.

Before that, I closet-cosplayed Kurama from the anime Yu Yu Hakusho from 2017-2018. I was obsessed with the show and characters, and having a quarter life crisis, so I dyed my hair red and let him consume my entire being.

Before that, I for some reason had a fixation with Jared Leto's Joker from Suicide Squad (2016)... Don't judge me, I know he wasn't a very good joker! I just didn't care! I didn't know how to sew yet, so all the pieces were collected, the bowtie was commissioned, and I had to go all around town trying to find dress shirts for my tiny body. All the while, I holed up in my room practicing his makeup. It took about 3-4 months? @mistahgrape was my handle on instagram and tumblr.

Then finally, there was my first cosplay which is also my cosplans for the future. I used to closet-cosplay Nosferatu when I was a bub (2011-2013) the whole time I was away in film school. I have a degree in film which was heavily focused on the German silent era, so he meant/means a lot, and I would make videos pretending like he visited me in my apartment. lol The blog strange--cargo is all about that. I desperately wanted to commission a screen accurate outfit but just never did, so I'm going to make my dreams come true and hopefully take him to cons and make people laugh/creep them out.

watch out!!

[savage-kult-of-gorthaur]

WHAT "NOTHING" LOOKS LIKE WHEN CAPTURED BY THE HUBBLE SPACE TELESCOPE.

PIC INFO: Resolution at 1272x1306 -- Spotlight on the Hubble Deep Field at full resolution, c. 1996. (R. Williams, the Hubble Deep Field team, NASA).

OVERVIEW: "In 1995, astronomer Bob Williams wanted to point the Hubble Space Telescope at a patch of sky filled with absolutely nothing remarkable. For 100 hours.

It was a terrible idea, his colleagues told him, and a waste of valuable telescope time. People would kill for that amount of time with the sharpest tool in the shed, they said, and besides — no way would the distant galaxies Williams hoped to see be bright enough for Hubble to detect.

Plus, another Hubble failure would be a public relations nightmare. Perceptions of the project, which had already cost multiple billions of dollars, were pretty dismal. Not much earlier, astronauts had dragged Hubble into the cargo bay of the space shuttle Endeavour and corrected a disastrous flaw in the prized telescope’s vision. After the fix, the previously blind eye in the sky could finally see stars as more than blurred points of light. And now, finally, it was time to start erasing the frustrations of Hubble’s early years.

Except that staring at nothing and coming up empty didn’t seem like the best way to do that.

But Williams was undeterred. And, to be honest, it didn’t really matter how much his colleagues protested. As director of the Space Telescope Science Institute, he had a certain amount of Hubble’s time at his personal disposal. “The telescope allocation committee would never have approved such a long, risky project,” he explains. “But as director, I had 10 percent of the telescope time, and I could do what I wanted.”

Wiliams suspected the billion light-year stare might capture eons of galactic evolution in a single frame and uncover some of the faintest, farthest galaxies ever seen. And to him, the potential observations were so important and so fundamental for understanding how the universe evolved that the experiment was a no-brainer, consequences be damned.

“Scientific discovery requires risk,” Williams says. “And I was at a point in my career where I said, “If it’s that bad, I’ll resign. I‘ll fall on my sword.’”

So, with his job perhaps on the line, Williams went off, put together a small team of post-docs, and did exactly as he’d planned. For 100 hours, between Dec. 18 and 28, Hubble stared at a patch of sky near the Big Dipper’s handle that was only about 1/30th as wide as the full moon. In total, the telescope took 342 pictures of the region, each of which was exposed for between 25 and 45 minutes. The images were processed and combined, then colored, and 17 days later, released to the public.

It turned out that “nothing” was actually stuffed with of galaxies. More than 3,000 of them came spilling out, some roughly 12 billion years old. Spiral, elliptical, irregular – red, white, blue, and yellow – the smudges of light that leapt from the final composite image cracked the universe in ways scientists never could have imagined."

-- NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC, "When Hubble Stared at Nothing for 100 Hours," by Nadia Bynadia Drake, published April 24, 2015

Source: www.nationalgeographic.com/science/article/when-hubble-stared-at-nothing-for-100-hours.