#reserve fund study

[kellerenginnering-blog]

Choosing the Right Engineering Firm for Your Reserve Fund Study

When it comes to managing property, especially in multi-unit residential settings like condominiums, effective financial planning is essential. One of the critical components of this planning is the reserve fund study. Engaging reputable Engineering Firms Canada for this task can make a significant difference in the long-term sustainability and financial health of your property. But how do you choose the right firm for your specific needs? In this blog, we will guide you through the key factors to consider when selecting an engineering firm for your reserve fund study.

Understanding the Importance of a Reserve Fund Study

A reserve fund study is a comprehensive assessment that evaluates the current state of a property’s physical assets and predicts future maintenance and replacement costs. The objective is to ensure that sufficient funds are available to cover these costs, preventing unexpected financial burdens on homeowners or property managers.

Conducting a reserve fund study is particularly important in urban areas where property values can fluctuate significantly. A thorough study allows for effective budgeting and planning, ensuring that properties remain well-maintained and financially secure over time. This is why choosing the right engineering firm to conduct your study is paramount.

Factors to Consider When Choosing an Engineering Firm

1. Experience and Expertise

The first factor to consider is the firm’s experience and expertise in conducting reserve fund studies. Look for firms that have a proven track record in your specific market, whether it’s residential, commercial, or mixed-use properties. Experienced firms are more likely to understand the nuances of local building codes and regulations, which can significantly impact the study's accuracy and relevance.

Ask potential firms about their previous projects and request references. A reputable firm will be happy to share case studies and testimonials from satisfied clients.

2. Qualifications and Certifications

Next, examine the qualifications of the professionals who will be conducting the reserve fund study. Ensure that the engineers and consultants possess the necessary certifications and licenses to perform this type of work. These qualifications indicate a level of expertise and adherence to industry standards that is crucial for a successful study.

Certifications from recognized professional organizations can also serve as a quality assurance measure. When evaluating firms, ask about their team’s credentials and any ongoing training they undergo to stay updated with the latest industry practices.

3. Comprehensive Services Offered

When selecting an engineering firm for your reserve fund study, consider the range of services they provide. A firm that offers a comprehensive suite of services will be more capable of addressing the various aspects of your study. This may include initial assessments, detailed financial analyses, and long-term planning recommendations.

Additionally, some firms may offer supplementary services, such as project management or ongoing consulting, which can be valuable as you implement the study’s recommendations. Having a firm that can provide continuity throughout the process can make a significant difference in your overall experience.

4. Local Knowledge

Choosing a firm with local knowledge is particularly beneficial when conducting a reserve fund study toronto or other specific urban areas. Familiarity with local regulations, climate considerations, and building trends will enable the firm to provide a more accurate and tailored assessment.

For example, a firm familiar with Toronto’s unique challenges—such as urban density, environmental regulations, and the specific needs of condominium communities—will be better equipped to identify potential issues and recommend solutions that are relevant to your property.

5. Communication and Transparency

Effective communication is essential for a successful partnership. When selecting an engineering firm, assess how they communicate with clients throughout the process. Are they responsive to your inquiries? Do they take the time to explain their findings and recommendations clearly?

Transparency in reporting is also crucial. You should expect the firm to provide detailed reports that outline their methodologies, findings, and suggestions. This clarity will not only help you understand the study better but also empower you to make informed decisions regarding your property’s financial planning.

6. Cost and Value

While cost should not be the sole determining factor in your decision, it is essential to understand the fee structure of the firms you are considering. Request detailed quotes that outline what is included in the service and any additional costs you might incur.

Comparing costs among different firms can help you find a service that fits your budget. However, prioritize the value you are receiving. A slightly higher cost may be justified by a firm’s reputation, expertise, or additional services that can ultimately benefit your property in the long run.

7. Client Reviews and Testimonials

In today’s digital age, client reviews and testimonials can provide valuable insights into a firm’s reputation. Check online reviews and ask for references to gauge the experiences of other clients. Look for patterns in feedback regarding communication, quality of work, and overall satisfaction.

A firm that consistently receives positive feedback is likely to be a reliable choice. Conversely, be wary of firms with numerous negative reviews, as they may indicate potential issues.

Conclusion

Choosing the right engineering firm for your reserve fund study is a crucial decision that can have lasting implications for the financial health of your property. By considering factors such as experience, qualifications, local knowledge, and communication style, you can make a more informed choice.

Remember that a reserve fund study is not just a financial obligation; it’s an opportunity to safeguard your investment and ensure that your property remains well-maintained for years to come. By partnering with a qualified engineering firm, you can take the necessary steps to secure the future of your property.

At Keller Engineering, we specialize in providing comprehensive reserve fund studies tailored to the unique needs of our clients. Our experienced team is dedicated to delivering accurate assessments and valuable insights to help you plan for the future. Contact us today to learn how we can assist you in making informed financial decisions for your property.

[bachassociates1]

Various Aspects of Inspection in Building - David Bach & Associates

What are the various aspects of inspection in building?

Building inspection is a crucial process that ensures the safety, integrity, and compliance of buildings with building codes and regulations. It involves a comprehensive examination of various aspects of a building to identify any issues or code violations. Here are some of the key aspects of inspection in building:

Daily On-Site Inspections: Building inspectors conduct daily inspections to monitor the progress of construction and ensure compliance with standards and specifications.

Quality Inspections: Inspectors scrutinize the quality of installations to ensure they meet the required standards and specifications.

Reviewing Drawings and Specifications: Inspectors carefully examine the drawings and specifications of the building to identify any deviations or non-conformities.

Maintaining Inspection Checklists and Records: Inspectors keep and maintain inspection checklists and records in a complete, accurate, and orderly manner.

Participation in Project Meetings: Inspectors actively participate in project meetings to discuss inspection findings, address any issues, and provide guidance.

Monitoring Contractors' Schedule: Inspectors monitor the contractors' schedule to ensure that the construction progresses according to the planned timeline.

Inspections of Paints and Coatings: Inspectors inspect paints and coatings to ensure they meet the required standards and specifications.

Field Testing and Materials Sampling: Inspectors perform field testing and materials sampling of soils, concrete, asphalt, and other materials to assess their quality.

Change Order Review and Completion: Inspectors review and complete change orders, which involve modifications to the original construction plans or specification.

Monitoring and Documenting Materials: Inspectors monitor and document the materials delivered and used in the construction works to ensure compliance with the approved plans and specifications.

Semi-Final and Final Inspections: Inspectors conduct semi-final and final inspections upon the completion of the building to ensure that all necessary requirements have been met.

Punch List Preparation and Monitoring: Inspectors prepare punch lists, which outline the remaining work or corrections needed, and monitor the completion of those items.

Handover Inspection: Inspectors perform a handover inspection to ensure a smooth project close-out and verify that all necessary documentation and requirements have been fulfilled.

These are some of the various aspects of inspection in building. Building inspectors play a crucial role in ensuring the safety, integrity, and compliance of buildings with building codes and regulations. They collaborate with construction professionals, review building plans and permits, identify code violations, and work towards rectifying any issues.

Please note that building inspection requirements may vary depending on the location and type of building being constructed. It is important to work with licensed building inspectors who are trained and certified to identify potential issues and ensure compliance with building codes and safety regulations.

[batboyblog]

Things the Biden-Harris Administration Did This Week #32

August 30-September 6 2024.

President Biden announced $7.3 billion in clean energy investment for rural communities. This marks the largest investment in rural electrification since the New Deal. The money will go to 16 rural electric cooperatives across 23 states Alaska, Arizona, California, Colorado, Florida, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Kentucky, Michigan, Minnesota, Montana, Nebraska, New Jersey, New Mexico, Nevada, North Dakota, Ohio, Pennsylvania, South Dakota, Texas, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. Together they will be able to generate 10 gigawatts of clean energy, enough to power 5 million households about 20% of America's rural population. This clean energy will reduce greenhouse emissions by 43.7 million tons a year, equivalent to removing more than 10 million cars off the road every year.

The Biden-Harris Administration announced a historic 10th offshore wind project. The latest project approved for the Atlantic coast of Maryland will generate 2,200 megawatts of clean, reliable renewable energy to power 770,000 homes. All together the 10 offshore wind projects approved by the Biden-Harris Administration will generation 15 gigawatts, enough to power 5.25 million homes. This is half way to the Administration's goal of 30 gigawatts of clean offshore wind power by 2030.

President Biden signed an Executive Order aimed at supporting and expanding unions. Called the "Good Jobs EO" the order will direct all federal agencies to take steps to recognize unions, to not interfere with the formation of unions and reach labor agreements on federally supported projects. It also directs agencies to prioritize equal pay and pay transparency, support projects that offer workers benefits like child care, health insurance, paid leave, and retirement benefits. It will also push workforce development and workplace safety.

The Department of Transportation announced $1 billion to make local roads safer. The money will go to 354 local communities across America to improve roadway safety and prevent deaths and serious injuries. This is part of the National Roadway Safety Strategy launched in 2022, since then traffic fatalities have decreased for 9 straight quarters. Since 2022 the program has supported projects in 1,400 communities effecting 75% of all Americans.

The Department of Energy announced $430 million to support America's aging hydropower. Hydropower currently accounts for nearly 27% of renewable electricity generation in the United States. However many of our dams were built during the New Deal for a national average of 79 years old. The money will go to 293 projects across 33 states. These updates will improve energy generation, workplace safety, and have a positive environmental impact on local fish and wildlife.

The EPA announced $300 million to help support tribal nations, and US territories cut climate pollution and boost green energy. The money will support projects by 33 tribes, and the Island of Saipan in the Northern Mariana Islands. EPA Administer Michael S. Regan announced the funds along side Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland in Arizona to highlight one of the projects. A project that will bring electricity for the first time to 900 homes on the Hopi Reservation.

The Biden-Harris Administration is investing $179 million in literacy. This investment in the Comprehensive Literacy State Development Grant is the largest in history. Studies have shown that the 3rd grade is a key moment in a students literacy development, the CLSD is designed to help support states research, develop, and implement evidence-based literacy interventions to help students achieve key literacy milestones.

The US government secured the release of 135 political prisoners from Nicaragua. Nicaragua's dictator President Daniel Ortega has jailed large numbers of citizens since protests against his rule broke out in 2018. In February 2023 the US secured the release of over 200 political prisoners. Human rights orgs have documented torture and sexual abuse in Ortega's prisons.

The Justice Department announced the disruption of a major effort by Russia to interfere with the 2024 US Elections. Russian propaganda network, RT, deployed $10 million to Tenet Media to help spread Russian propaganda and help sway the election in favor of Trump and the Republicans as well as disrupting American society. Tenet Media employs many well known conservative on-line personalities such as Benny Johnson, Tim Pool, Lauren Southern, Dave Rubin, Tayler Hansen and Matt Christiansen.

Vice-President Harris outlined her plan for Small Businesses at a campaign stop in New Hampshire. Harris wants to expand from $5,000 to $50,000 tax incentives for startup expenses. This would help start 25 million new small business over four years.

[reasonsforhope]

"On the heights of a mountain range just 30 miles west of Sydney’s Central Business District, the population of a charismatic marsupial was found to be ballooning despite recent fires.

Recorded at 45% higher than before Australia’s drought-wildfire combo of 2019, it was described as “nothing short of remarkable.”

The greater glider is an arboreal marsupial that can glide the distance of a football field using a long skin membrane that stretches between its arms and legs. With a diet composed exclusively of eucalyptus leaves, a lack of trees means a lack of gliders, and in the Blue Mountains, parts that were only lightly burned are positively full of these animals.

“It’s been fantastic to see greater gliders bounce back to well above pre-fire, pre-drought levels in the best and most lightly burnt habitat,” said Dr. Peter Smith, an experienced glider biologist, and author of the study that included the new population estimates. “Because of their low reproductive rate, we didn’t think that they’d be capable of making such a strong recovery. The rapid increase in numbers is extraordinary.”

On one night, he and his co-author/wife Judy used powerful flashlights to spot 59 gliders overhead in a single corridor located by the southern edge of the Blue Mountains National Park and near the adjoining Mares Forest National Park and Wombeyan Karst Conservation Reserve.

Gliders are not just vulnerable to logging and wildfires, they carry a mere one joey per year, and so have been assumed to be far more at risk than similar marsupials with greater fecundity.

Other surveys proved less-joyful, though. In some areas where the eucalyptus had not recovered from the 2019 fires, there were no gliders at all. Another way to look at that might be: provided eucalyptus trees can be restored to degraded habitats, gliders can take care of themselves.

“That’s why the remaining greater glider strongholds are so important,” Dr. Smith told WWF Down Under. “The forests in Mares Forest National Park and the southern end of Blue Mountains National Park now support exceptional numbers of greater gliders and are vital for the species’ recovery in this region.”

As to why this species might have been so much more well-stocked, Smith reckoned it was because of the increased rainfall in recent years, driving more heavy vegetation among the trees this flying possum calls home."

-Article via Good News Network, March 11, 2025. Video via World Wildlife Fund, June 15, 2022

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈, 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬.

— pairing; itoshi sae x reader  

— summary; in which you and sae meet again in japan after a messy breakup in spain. set in the blue lock manager au.

— notes; please donate to my kofi if you like my work. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It’s not really something you like to broadcast, how you and Sae were close when you were in Spain with your parents for that brief, wonderful period of time. While he honed his skills with football, you would balance your studies while helping out at Re Al.

❋ Things had been so simple back then. Late-night walks in Madrid, your fingers intertwined with his. Sneaking kisses in quiet corners, away from prying eyes. Sharing popsicles and everything else. Sae was cold to the rest of the world, his softness reserved entirely for you.

❋ You were each other’s first everything — first kiss, first love, first heartbreak.

❋ Some part of you had to have known that this was only temporary, considering how often your parents travel for work. But it still comes as a shock to you when you parents abruptly decide to return to Japan to help fund the Blue Lock project.

❋ And Sae, so full of potential. Sae, whose career is finally taking off. You aren’t about to let him leave it behind; and Sae, too driven, too focused on his dreams, wasn’t about to throw it all away and return to Japan either. Not like this. Not for you.

❋ You hadn’t expected to see him at the airport to see you off. Sae’s expression was closed off, and it was like the two of you were strangers once again, the distance and silence already stretching endlessly between you. As if your relationship had never existed in the first place.

❋ The breakup was messy, yet silent. Both of you knew instinctively that this was the end. And just before Sae left without looking back, his final words to you were, “If you’re going, don’t expect me to wait.”

❋ The last image you have of him is his retreating figure, back rigid, leaving as the words die on your lips.

❋ And that was that.

❋ You’d returned to Japan with your parents to work as a manager at Blue Lock (Ego had agreed to take you in under the promise of free labour, apparently). Ego’s lectures aren’t fun, but you’re actually learning something under him and Anri when you’re not being driven insane by a group of rowdy, immature teenaged boys.

❋ You try really hard not to think about Sae. Even if the occasional headline reminds you of his burgeoning career in Europe. But the memory of him is a quiet ache in your chest that surfaces in random moments — when you see the colour teal, or hear a song he’d used to like.

❋ You’ve been to JFA headquarters only once or twice before, but it’s bustling with activity as always. Your purpose here is purely business; you’ll act as a secretary for Ego and Anri while they finalize plans for the U20 match with the top brass.

❋ You didn’t think that he’d be there.

❋ Right at that very moment.

❋ In that very room.

❋ Fate is cruel, sometimes.

❋ He looks . . . The same, yet somehow different all at once. His hair’s a little longer, his expression sharper, but those piercing green eyes haven’t changed at all, and the realisation makes your chest throb painfully all over again.

❋ You wonder how you appear to him, underneath your professional blazer and veneer of carefully controlled calm. Does he think you still look the same? Or does he think that you’ve changed, become a total stranger to him, much like how he is to you right now?

❋ His gaze is intense, scorching. You can feel it the second you enter the room, but you keep your head down and try to pay attention to the meeting. (The thought of having to present incomplete notes to Ego certainly does a marvellous job at helping you focus.)

❋ A breath of relief soughs out of you the moment the meeting ends. Quickly, you gather your things, following Ego and Anri out the door. You’re eager to avoid the lingering eyes of the association’s board members.

❋ And perhaps most of all: you’re eager to avoid unnecessary small talk with Sae.

❋ But you catch a final glimpse of him out the corner of your eye; Sae, still staring at you. His expression seemingly softer, almost hesitant. It’s almost as if he wants to call your name, to stop you from leaving, but something — Pride? Anger? — holds him back.

❋ The door to the meeting room clicks shut behind you with a cold finality, and this time, you’re the one leaving first.

[estapa-edwards]

SUNSHINE - Q. HUGHES

paring: Quinn hughes x reader

word count: 1.8k

requested? yes - quinn dating an absolute ball of sunshine and just such a sweetheart and him being so grumpy but melting for her, his family falling in love with her when they meet her and seeing how much she loves quinn but how much wuinn needs her too

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

In the bustling city of Vancouver, amidst the frenetic energy of professional hockey, lived Quinn Hughes, a young defenseman for the Vancouver Canucks. Known for his exceptional skill on the ice, Quinn was equally notorious for his serious demeanor off the rink. Yet, in the midst of his stoic world, there came a burst of sunshine named Y/N.

Y/N was a ball of positivity that seemed to radiate light wherever she went. Her infectious laughter and perpetual smile were like a beacon in Quinn's sometimes dimly lit world. They met by chance at a charity event organized by the Canucks, where Y/N's volunteer work caught Quinn's attention.

At first, Quinn was skeptical. He was used to the rough and tumble world of hockey, where toughness and resilience were prized above all else. Y/N, on the other hand, seemed like a delicate flower, too fragile for the harsh realities of his life. But as they spent more time together, Quinn discovered layers to Y/N that he never expected.

Y/N was not just sunshine and smiles; she had a strength of character and an unwavering spirit that Quinn found both intriguing and deeply comforting. She saw past his gruff exterior, understanding the pressures he faced as a professional athlete, and yet never once treated him like anything less than a human being.

--

The charity event buzzed with excitement as Quinn Hughes, clad in his sharp suit, navigated through the crowd with practiced ease. He exchanged obligatory pleasantries with fellow teammates and sponsors, his expression stoic and his demeanor guarded. Amidst the sea of faces, one stood out—a figure wrapped in an aura of warmth and kindness, her smile a beacon in the dimly lit room.

Y/N was busy at a booth, arranging pamphlets and chatting animatedly with volunteers. Quinn observed her from afar, intrigued by the genuine enthusiasm she exuded. She seemed out of place amidst the glitz and glamour of the event, like a wildflower blooming in a field of roses.

Quinn's curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself making his way toward her booth, his steps deliberate and measured. Y/N looked up as he approached, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she greeted him with a bright smile.

"Hi there! Can I interest you in learning more about our cause?" Y/N's voice was like a melody, soft yet confident, drawing Quinn in despite his initial reservations.

Quinn hesitated for a moment, unused to such genuine warmth from strangers. "What cause?" he asked, his tone gruff but tinged with curiosity.

Y/N's smile widened, undeterred by his demeanor. "We're raising funds for underprivileged children in the community, providing them with educational resources and opportunities they wouldn't otherwise have. It's a cause close to my heart," she explained, her eyes alight with passion.

Quinn studied her for a moment, his gaze searching for any hint of insincerity. But all he found was honesty and sincerity, a stark contrast to the superficiality of the world he was accustomed to. Despite himself, he felt a flicker of something—a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Tell me more," Quinn finally conceded, surprising even himself with his genuine interest.

And so, Y/N launched into an impassioned spiel about the charity's mission, her words painting a vivid picture of hope and possibility. As Quinn listened, he found himself captivated by her spirit, her unwavering belief in the power of kindness and compassion.

By the time Y/N had finished speaking, Quinn was thoroughly intrigued. He found himself drawn to her light, her optimism a stark contrast to his own cynicism. And as he looked into her eyes, he saw something he hadn't expected—a reflection of his own humanity, mirrored back to him in all its rawness and vulnerability.

--

Their relationship blossomed slowly, like a delicate flower unfurling its petals in the warmth of the sun. Quinn found himself opening up to Y/N in ways he never had with anyone else, sharing his fears and insecurities, as well as his hopes and dreams. And Y/N, in turn, showered him with love and affection, her unwavering support a balm to his weary soul.

Quinn sat in his dimly lit apartment, his hockey gear strewn across the floor like discarded remnants of a battle won or lost. He stared blankly at the wall, the weight of the day's game still heavy on his shoulders. It was a tough loss, one that left him questioning his abilities and his worth as a player.

Y/N sat beside him, her presence a comforting warmth in the otherwise cold room. She reached out and gently took his hand in hers, her touch soft and reassuring.

"It's okay, Quinn," she murmured, her voice a soothing melody in the silence. "You gave it your all out there. That's all anyone can ask for."

Quinn sighed, leaning into her touch ever so slightly. "I know, but sometimes it feels like it's not enough," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N squeezed his hand gently, her eyes full of understanding. "You're more than just a hockey player, Quinn. You're a person with hopes and dreams and fears, just like everyone else. And no matter what happens on the ice, I'll always be here for you."

Quinn looked at her then, really looked at her, and for the first time, he saw past the facade of sunshine and smiles to the strength and resilience that lay beneath. He saw in her eyes a reflection of his own struggles, his own fears, and he felt a connection—a bond—that went beyond the surface.

"I appreciate you saying that," Quinn murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "Sometimes it's hard to remember that there's more to life than just hockey."

Y/N nodded, her gaze unwavering as she met his eyes. "It's okay to feel that way, Quinn. But you're not defined by what happens on the ice. You're so much more than that."

In that moment, Quinn felt a weight lifted off his shoulders, a burden shared and halved. He realized that he didn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders alone, that it was okay to lean on someone else for support.

Leaning in closer, Quinn found himself drawn to Y/N in a way he hadn't anticipated. He could feel the warmth of her presence enveloping him like a blanket, comforting and reassuring. And as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, a feeling of home that he had never experienced before.

-- 

​​But it wasn't just Quinn who fell for Y/N's charms. His family, initially skeptical of anyone who dared to enter their son's guarded heart, quickly warmed to her. They saw how she brought out the best in Quinn, softening his rough edges and encouraging him to embrace life with a newfound enthusiasm.

Quinn's parents, Jim and Ellen, welcomed Y/N into their home with open arms, treating her like one of their own from the moment they met her. His siblings, Jack and Luke, adored her playful nature and boundless energy, finding in her a kindred spirit who shared their love for life and all its joys. 

The first time Y/N met Quinn's family was a nerve-wracking experience. She stood outside their doorstep, her heart pounding in her chest as she nervously smoothed down her dress. Quinn had assured her that his family would love her, but that didn't stop the butterflies in her stomach from fluttering anxiously.

As Quinn opened the door, Y/N was greeted by the warm smiles of his parents, Jim and Ellen. They enveloped her in a tight embrace, welcoming her into their home with open arms. From the moment they met, Y/N could see where Quinn got his kindness and warmth from; Jim's easygoing nature and Ellen's gentle demeanor instantly put her at ease.

"Welcome, Y/N! It's so wonderful to finally meet you," Ellen exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.

Y/N smiled nervously, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Thank you for having me," she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude.

Quinn's siblings, Jack and Luke, bounded down the stairs, their excitement palpable as they caught sight of Y/N. They wasted no time in bombarding her with questions, eager to get to know the girl who had captured their brother's heart.

"Hi, I'm Jack!" one of them exclaimed, thrusting out his hand for Y/N to shake.

"And I'm Luke!" the other chimed in, grinning from ear to ear.

Y/N laughed, charmed by their infectious energy. "It's nice to meet you both," she said, shaking their hands warmly.

The evening was filled with warmth and laughter as Quinn's family gathered around the dinner table, enjoying each other's company. Y/N sat among them, her smile radiant as she shared stories and jokes, seamlessly fitting into the dynamic of the Hughes household.

Jim and Ellen exchanged a knowing glance as they observed their son and his girlfriend. They had watched Quinn grow from a young boy with dreams of playing in the NHL to the accomplished athlete he was today. But what they hadn't anticipated was the transformative effect Y/N would have on him.

"She's really something special, isn't she?" Ellen whispered to Jim, her eyes twinkling with affection as she glanced at Y/N.

Jim nodded in agreement, a proud smile gracing his lips. "She certainly is. I've never seen Quinn light up the way he does when she's around."

Across the table, Jack and Luke were engaged in a lively conversation with Y/N, their laughter filling the room. They had taken to her immediately, drawn to her playful nature and genuine warmth.

"You're the best, Y/N!" Jack exclaimed, his eyes shining with admiration.

Luke nodded enthusiastically, echoing his brother's sentiment. "Yeah, we love having you around!"

Y/N laughed, feeling a swell of affection for Quinn's siblings. "I love being here with all of you," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity.

As the evening wore on, Quinn's family couldn't help but marvel at the bond he shared with Y/N. They saw how she brought out the best in him, softening his rough edges and encouraging him to embrace life with a newfound enthusiasm.

But more than that, they saw how much Quinn needed her. They saw the way his eyes lit up whenever she entered the room, the way he leaned on her for support in times of doubt and uncertainty. They saw the depth of their love for each other, a love that transcended words and barriers.

And in that moment, as they sat together as a family, surrounded by love and laughter, Jim and Ellen knew that Y/N was more than just Quinn's girlfriend. She was his rock, his anchor in a sea of uncertainty, his guiding light in the darkness.

And as they looked at their son, his hand intertwined with Y/N's, they knew that he was truly blessed to have her by his side

[hazbinhotelreimaginedproject]

✨🍎Charlie's Relationships!🍎✨

Vaggie, Angel, Alastor, Lucifer!

✨🍎Charlie + Vaggie🦋🗡️

Ever since their first meeting, Charlie has held Vaggie in high regard. She was the first 'sinner' she had ever officially met, and the first true 'friend' the princess ever had. Strong, organized, determined, a person you can rely on when you're hyperactive, messy, confused, frustrated... lonely... ↓↓↓

Charlie is the ideas person, the one with both wonder and will, and Vaggie is the manager, helping shape the lengthy schemes into direct actions. Sometimes she wonders how she would've gotten this far in her plan without her girlfriend's help.

Wait- GIRLFRIEND!? W-well y-yes, they are both girls a-and they are certainly friends!! Yes!!! Definitely no weird bubbly feeling she can't explain because she's never been in love before!!! LOVE!?!? Uhh y-yeah, of course she loves her best friend!!! Her bestest best friend that she loves and wants to remain friends with forever-- n-nothing more, *sob* y-yeah DEFINITELY!!!

✨🍎Charlie + Angel🕸️🩷

Charlie has been very sheltered her entire life, so to live with one as familiar with hell life as Angel is a great opportunity to learn more about her subjects! And he is proving to be a great teacher! She didn't know a lot about his profession, never had experience dealing with drunk people, nor has she ever witnessed an addict's creativity in finding new stash locations, but after a week with him? Got pretty familiar.

Hes unfiltered and always lets her know whenever he's unhappy with something, which makes reading and accommodating him so much easier! She's often wrong in her readings, but slowly realizes it's because Angel as a person is much more complex than she ever thought possible.

Overtime, she stops looking at him as a subject of study, but as a person she has genuinely bonded with, and they develop an older brother - younger sister dynamic. Soon he also softens a bit and starts teaching her social cues and sinner etiquette so she can learn to navigate her people and their struggles.

✨🍎Charlie + Alastor 🦌🥩

Alastor is a trickster whose reputation precedes him, to the point even the shut-in princess knows to be cautious of him. Completely unpredictable, he is quiet and reserved on some days, and the most talkative extrovert on others, which makes getting him to help or even getting in contact with him absolute hell.

His suggestions are always either violent or absurd, but there is always a pinch of truth to them that she has to sift through and find. Something about him tells her that he's really guiding her on the right path, but something else urges her to be careful.

Another thing that surprised her about him, is that apparently that old-school gentleman loves pranks. He has certainly shown her and the hotel residents so multiple times. And she, of course, lovely gullible she, is his favorite target.

✨🍎Charlie + Lucifer 👑❤️‍🔥

Charlie and her dad... aren't close. It was better when her mother was still around, but now she hardly considers him family. He is the one funding her endeavor, but she hates having to rely on him or ask him for help, mostly because he would always dismiss her with a laugh and start talking about his duck projects or whatever.

She knows it's his curse, she knows he would never truly empathize with her or give her the time of day because of his sin, but she still hates him for it. She hates how he never treats her seriously, she hates when he gives her estimations of when her program would fail, she hates him laughing at her plans like they were children's drawings. She hates him.

... Except she doesn't. She can't really bring herself to. He seems to be trying this time around. Really trying. Almost like hes... fighting himself. If she's already trying to redeem sinners... would it really be a stretch for her to try and redeem the devil? Would she succeed...?

Woah! I'm cooking up so many interesting dynamics I would love to explore in the future! Too bad I will probably be real busy till next year probably. But by my calculations season 2 would release around that time sooo! >w<

[sirpuntine]

Are you aware of ALLIGATOR ALCATRAZ?

"This site is a multigenerational home for the Indigenous peoples of Florida, and it is not the home of a harmful and unnecessary prison." - Friends of the Everglades

Source

“Alligator Alcatraz” is an immigrant detention center being built illegally in the Big Cypress Preserve of the Florida Everglades to house 5,000 people in tents in summer, with plans to use alligators and snakes as opposed to walls and buildings as a deterrent to the people being kidnapped, trafficked, and contained.

“State authorities project that the center will be operational at the beginning of July, with an initial capacity of at least 1,000 detainees and a gradual expansion thereafter”

As of 6/26: Construction has already started and has been connected to LOGISTIC EVENT CORPS and US TENT RENTAL. FL National Guard and Highway Patrol have been sent to “secure the perimeter and entry points of Alligator Alcatraz”. Homeland Security is largely funding it with FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency) using its Shelter and Service Program, which usually allocates money to governments and nonprofits to “provide migrants with temporary shelter, food and transportation”.

There are 15 Miccosukee and Seminole villages in Big Cypress, which also supplies 40% of their drinking water, but the tribes WERE NOT CONSULTED and EXPLICITLY OPPOSE construction.

The Mayor of Miami is opposing construction until environmental impact assessments are done and is reportedly considering legal action

“Levine Cava also reported that the state of Florida offered only 20 million dollars for the property, while its most recent appraisal exceeds 190 million”

DeSantis has claimed the project has zero environmental impacts, which has been vehemently denied by environmentalists:

"There will be impact because sewage will be generated, water will be used, and it will create light pollution affecting the habitat” - Eve Samples, Executive Director of Friends of the Everglades

“She also contends the state failed to follow proper procedure by skipping a required environmental review before building a federal facility. Samples raised additional alarm over the threat to endangered species, noting that Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission (FWC) maps show panthers living in the area.”

“In addition to the criticisms of the immigration plan itself, construction in this region -considered ecologically sensitive- could cause irreversible damage to the ecosystem of the Everglades, one of the most important natural reserves in the United States.” [x]

In 1969, Marjory Stoneman Douglas founded Friends of the Everglades to stop construction in the same location based on the findings of the 1st ever environmental impact study done in FL and was successful

"Development of the proposed jetport and its attendant facilities will lead to land drainage and development for agriculture, transportation, and services in the Big Cypress Swamp which will inexorably destroy the south Florida ecosystem and thus the Everglades National Park."

US President Ford established Big Cypress National Preserve in 1974 In order to “assure the preservation, conservation, and protection of the natural, scenic, hydrologic, floral and faunal, and recreational values of the Big Cypress Watershed”

Call Scripts:

Use these exactly, or use pieces, or base your own message on them - as long as you contact ASAP

Friends of the Everglades: “Dear Gov. DeSantis and Attorney General Uthmeier, Don’t make the same mistake Florida avoided 55 years ago. I’m urging you to STOP the reckless plan to build an “Alligator Alcatraz” detention center in the heart of the Everglades. This land is critical to the future of the Everglades — that’s why thousands of Floridians joined forces to stop the Everglades Jetport from paving over this very ground in 1970. Now Attorney General Uthmeier wants to do what even President Nixon’s administration knew was wrong: open the door to development in one of America’s most fragile and iconic ecosystems, surrounded by Everglades National Park and Big Cypress National Preserve. You have the power to stop this anti-Everglades proposal, and I’m calling on you to use it. NO AIRPORTS. NO ROCK MINES. NO PRISONS on this land. ONLY EVERGLADES! Sincerely, [your info here]”

Jessica Namath: “My name is (name] and I'm calling to ask that you help protect our nation's FIRST National Preserve - Big Cypress - and stop "Alligator Alcatraz". The Everglades are no place for ANY 1,000 person facility. The infrastructure can't support it, and the impacts to the indigenous community and ecosystem would be catastrophic. Please oppose this terrible idea!”

Sierra Club FL Chapter: “Dear Governor DeSantis - You have repeatedly claimed to be a defender of the Everglades. Now is the moment to back up those words with action. The proposed “Alligator Alcatraz” ICE facility would devastate a vital part of the Everglades — undoing decades of restoration progress and wasting billions of taxpayer dollars already invested in protecting this unique ecosystem. This project threatens to destroy the very heart of the River of Grass, undermining the hard work of generations of advocates and scientists dedicated to restoring Florida’s natural heritage. I urge you to listen to the thousands of Floridians who stand against this plan. Show real leadership by rejecting this harmful project and fully committing to protecting and restoring the Everglades for future generations. The time to act is now. Stop Alligator Alcatraz, and stand by your promise to protect the Everglades. Sincerely, [your info here]”

Friends of the Everglades provide this to contact DeSantis and Uthmeier. You can also email DeSantis through his website, or use the contact info below:

DeSantis Mailing Address: The Capitol / 400 South Monroe St. / Tallahassee, FL 32399-0001 | DeSantis Phone: (850)717-9337 or (850)488-7146

Uthmeier Mailing Address: Office of the Attorney General / State of Florida /!PL-01, The Capitol / Tallahassee, FL 32399-1050 | Uthmeier Phone: (866)966-7226

Call the companies involved and confront their complicity, demanding they stop their service

US Tent Rental (Sarasota, FL): (941)727-3311

Logistics Event Corps (SweetWater, FL): (305)232-8368

BTW DeSantis has already said he wants to build another detention center at Camp Blanding, 30 miles West of Jacksonville, in Northeast FL

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Rumor, what do you think happened with Sentebale?? You always have good intuition about everything.

So, disclaimer in advance: this is probably going to be rambly because I'm still processing.

I won't lie: My first reaction to the news - without having seen the chairwoman's statement and without having done any additional research - is that whatever the issues, they were related to the board all being in the UK while the chair and the work is all in Africa. I thought (and you can see it one of the comments I made) it was an accountability or a visibility issue. It's hard to provide oversight or give direction when the thing you're evaluating is halfway around the world.

But now having read her statement and done some research? Oh, man.

The first thing for me, right off the bat, is the American adage that "Black people must work twice as hard to go half as far." I don't know if that's true in other places around the world, but that's the deal here in the US and that's the perspective I'm looking through. So knowing that Dr. Chandauka is a Black woman, and that she studied, worked, and lived here in the US and have seen some of her CV, I feel pretty confident saying this woman is ridiculously overqualified for a chairwoman and she absolutely knows her shit.

She knows how boards are supposed to run. She knows how businesses are run. She knows that something is not right. Has she known all along? I don't know. Based on my own experience, I don't think she did. There's a lot you don't know as "just" a board member that when you step into the chair position, it's mind-blowing how much else is going on that you had no idea or awareness of. Dr. Chandauka may have had inklings that there's something else going on so she became Chair to see what's going on or perhaps she had no idea so she became Chair and it was just 🤯😲🤯.

And then the fact that she got the court - the whole real court - to stop the board from firing her? And the Charity Commission, an oversight watchdog, is investigating?

I echo again my comment that I made to Dr. Chandauka's statement: damning and damaging.

So to the anons who've said that The Times's story is preemptive spin by Harry and Prince Seesio, congratulations, take a bow. I think you're right.

Now for what the actual specific allegations are, I'm not sure. But there are a lot of them, and I want to wait and reserve judgment on what's actually going on until there's more information.

But knowing what we know about other charities of Harry's - African Parks, the Royal Foundation, Archewell, Invictus Games - I think it's pretty safe to say that Harry is completely checked out, despite claiming to be involved, which is an abdication of responsibility and accountability on his part as an involved founder and a patron, especially if there is significant, substantial, and widespread wrongdoing on the board's part.

(So quick aside: African Parks had the rape scandal; the Royal Foundation got audited after the Sussexes left over claims about how certain donations were made; Archewell can't file any paperwork on time; Invictus Games is bleeding money faster than a flesh wound.)

And let's not forget Harry's own racism, misogyny, and astounding ostrichism.

That Harry resigned from the charity too hints to me that whatever Dr. Chandauka discovered, Harry's implicated in it too or that Harry is aware that it's going to reflect poorly on him and he might not be able to wave the scandal away with a charm offensive like he did African Parks, which makes me think these are systemic problems like -- purely speculating right now:

are the funds and support Sentebale is distributing actually making it to the people in need?

are there bribes involved, or kickbacks?

has the board been bullying Sentebale staff to carry out certain activities?

are the people receiving the funds and support from the organization using the money correctly?

are the people responsible for distributing funds/services withholding them until other services have been provided?

are the board members using Sentebale as a slush fund for travel in Africa? Is Harry doing that and they're covering it up for him?

are the books/budget unbalanced?

is the board delinquent in their duties to the organization? E.g., are they missing meetings? not fundraising? giving inappropriate advice? have they turned a blind eye to reported abuse?

were board members inappropriate to staff, including Dr. Chandauka? (I think this one is 'yes' based on her statement.)

is the board properly documenting its work and meetings in accordance with appropriate laws? (I'm guessing 'no,' based on her statement.)

Again, all of that is speculation.

So I know this was rambly and it's kind of all over the point, so to wrap it up: TL;DR--

These are serious allegations. A court and the charity commission have both intervened so there absolutely is smoke here.

Dr. Chandauka knows her stuff. She's been chair for almost 2 years and was a board member for a long time before that. Trust.

But also verify - there's a lot being said and a lot being spun, but nothing specific has been explained yet. It does sound like both sides are setting in for a long fight.

More will come to light in the next few days/weeks/months, so I think this is one of those situations we'll need to watch, see what happens, and be mindful of our speculating.

[kellerenginnering-blog]

How Building Envelope Engineering Can Enhance Indoor Comfort

When it comes to creating comfortable living or working spaces, one of the most important aspects to consider is the building envelope. The building envelope refers to the physical barrier between the interior of a building and the external environment. It includes the walls, windows, doors, roof, and foundation—each of which plays a crucial role in regulating temperature, air quality, and energy efficiency within a space.

In this blog, we will explore how building envelope engineering can significantly enhance indoor comfort and the role Edmonton Engineering Consulting Firms, like Keller Engineering, play in making sure these systems work optimally. We will also touch upon the specific services provided by building envelope engineers in Ottawa.

What is Building Envelope Engineering?

Building envelope engineering involves the design, analysis, and construction of the outer shell of a building. The primary goal of building envelope engineers is to ensure that the building is protected from the elements while maximizing energy efficiency, comfort, and safety. This includes working with materials that provide proper insulation, air barriers, water control systems, and thermal resistance.

The engineering of the building envelope has a direct impact on how comfortable the indoor environment will be. Whether you're looking to maintain a comfortable temperature year-round or reduce your energy consumption, building envelope engineering plays a vital role in achieving these goals.

Key Factors That Affect Indoor Comfort

Several factors influence the comfort levels inside a building, and the building envelope is central to many of them. Let’s break down how each component of the building envelope can enhance indoor comfort:

1. Thermal Insulation

One of the primary functions of the building envelope is to keep the temperature inside the building stable. Insulation materials, such as fiberglass, foam board, or spray foam, are installed in walls, roofs, and floors to keep the heat in during winter and the cool air inside during summer. Proper insulation ensures that you are not paying more for heating or cooling than necessary and prevents discomfort caused by drafts or extreme temperatures.

Building envelope engineers focus on optimizing insulation materials and their installation, which is why consulting firms like Keller Engineering play an essential role in making sure your building is thermally efficient.

2. Air Tightness

Air leaks are a common problem in buildings with poorly designed or constructed envelopes. These leaks allow unwanted outside air to enter, affecting the temperature and air quality inside. This results in a less comfortable environment and higher energy costs as your heating or cooling systems have to work harder to maintain a stable temperature.

By creating airtight seals around windows, doors, and joints, a building envelope engineer ensures that air leaks are minimized, preventing drafts and reducing energy consumption. This is particularly important in colder climates, such as those in Ottawa and Edmonton, where extreme temperature fluctuations are common.

3. Water Control

Moisture intrusion is another factor that can impact indoor comfort. Water leaks can lead to mold, mildew, and structural damage, all of which can affect the quality of air and make the indoor environment uncomfortable. Building envelope engineers use specialized techniques to design systems that prevent water from entering the building.

This includes ensuring proper drainage systems, waterproofing, and weather-resistant materials. When working with Edmonton engineering consulting firms like Keller Engineering, water control strategies are integrated to keep the building dry and comfortable.

4. Natural Lighting

A well-designed building envelope also allows for optimal natural lighting. Windows and glass doors should be strategically placed to allow sunlight to enter, brightening up interior spaces. Properly designed envelopes ensure that sunlight enters without causing excessive heat gain, which can make indoor spaces uncomfortably hot in the summer.

Building envelope engineers take this into consideration when planning window placement and the materials used for glazing. High-performance glazing can help minimize heat transfer while still allowing natural light to flood the interior.

5. Noise Reduction

In urban areas, noise from traffic, construction, and other external sources can negatively affect the comfort of building occupants. Building envelope engineers focus on designing walls, windows, and doors that not only protect from the elements but also provide sound insulation.

By using specialized materials and construction techniques, the building envelope can reduce noise transmission from the outside. This leads to a more peaceful and comfortable indoor environment, which is especially beneficial in busy cities like Ottawa.

How Building Envelope Engineering Improves Energy Efficiency

One of the biggest advantages of having a well-engineered building envelope is its contribution to energy efficiency. By maintaining consistent indoor temperatures, reducing the need for artificial heating or cooling, and minimizing air leakage, the building envelope can dramatically lower energy consumption.

Energy efficiency is not only good for the environment but also for your wallet. With rising energy costs, optimizing your building’s envelope is a smart investment that pays off in the long run. Edmonton engineering consulting firms, such as Keller Engineering, offer expert advice and solutions to help businesses and homeowners achieve better energy efficiency through envelope engineering.

The Role of Building Envelope Engineers in Ottawa and Edmonton

Building envelope engineers bring specialized knowledge to every project. In cities like Ottawa and Edmonton, where weather extremes can pose challenges, the expertise of a building envelope engineer is essential to maintaining a comfortable, energy-efficient indoor environment.

For example, a Building envelope engineer ottawa is equipped to handle the region’s cold winters by ensuring that insulation and air barriers are optimized to retain heat. In Edmonton, engineers might focus on creating cooling solutions that keep indoor spaces comfortable during the summer heat.

Keller Engineering, with its focus on innovative engineering solutions, helps both residential and commercial properties improve their building envelopes for enhanced comfort and efficiency. Their services include designing, inspecting, and retrofitting building envelopes to meet modern standards and address specific climate-related challenges.

Why Choose Professional Engineering Consulting Firms?

While DIY solutions can be tempting, building envelope engineering requires a detailed understanding of materials, environmental conditions, and energy codes. Professional firms like Keller Engineering provide comprehensive evaluations and solutions tailored to the unique needs of your building. Whether you’re constructing a new property or retrofitting an existing one, their expertise ensures that your building envelope is up to standard.

Conclusion

Building envelope engineering is a critical factor in enhancing indoor comfort. By ensuring your building is well-insulated, airtight, moisture-resistant, and energy-efficient, you can significantly improve both the comfort and energy performance of your home or business. The expertise of building envelope engineers from firms like Keller Engineering can help you achieve these goals, ensuring a more comfortable indoor environment, regardless of the external climate.

If you’re looking for ways to optimize your building envelope for enhanced comfort and efficiency, consider reaching out to Edmonton engineering consulting firms or a building envelope engineer in Ottawa for professional advice and solutions.

[michuga]

beautiful, dirty, rich 1

your entire life is a façade; to be rich, you have to act rich. until you meet someone who shows you that some things, you simply can't cheat your way into.

pairing: ceo jeongguk x fraud reader

warnings: swearing, catfishing, manipulation

a/n: my first series.. a bit nervous about it, but please let me know what you think :) enjoy!

to be rich, you have to act rich.

you and your roommate and best friend of many years, eunji, have been pretending to be rich for the past two years.

you were skeptical at first, but when you got into your first paris fashion show, that's when you knew this might actually succeed.

apparently, when people think you're important, they give you everything you want.

it started with a dare.

eunji’s balancing a cheap bottle of rosé on her knee, scrolling through instagram. "bet we could sneak into that," she says, flashing her screen at you. paris fashion week, influencers dripping in designer clothes, flashing cameras, and velvet ropes.

you laugh it off at first. but the idea lingers. later that night, after too much alcohol and not enough common sense, you both raid your closets, throwing together outfits that almost look designer if you squint hard enough. a pair of knockoff sunglasses here, a thrifted blazer there. you practice your walk in the mirror; chin up, eyes forward, head held high.

the next day, you arrive at the venue, hearts pounding. but something strange happens.

as you look straight ahead and strut right through, the security guy barely glances at you. the crowd parts. the cameras flash; maybe by accident, maybe not. but no one stops you.

later, sitting in the back row with a glass of champagne you definitely didn’t pay for, eunji leans over, whispering, "that was too easy."

one fashion show turns into another. and another. soon, you’re not just sneaking in—you’re invited. or at least, that’s what people think.

you start studying the scene. watching how the rich move, how they talk. the subtle flexes: a casual mention of a vacation home in the maldives, an offhand complaint about a yacht’s engine problems.

you learn to drop hints without overplaying your hand. eunji masters the art of the perfect instagram post, carefully curating your shared feed to make it look like you’ve been living this life forever.

it's been your party trick ever since.

that wasn't your last brush with wealth.

as you got bolder, you started going to places you purposely knew rich people frequented. or at least that's what the internet told you.

rooftop bars with $20 cocktails, hotel lobbies where the marble floors gleamed a little too brightly, art galleries where the paintings were just as pretentious as the people admiring them. you and eunji would walk in like you owned the place.

it was easy, once you realized how little it took to blend in.

the rules were simple: look the part, play the part, and never let them see you sweat. you and eunji learned that fast. wealth wasn’t about money; it was about perception.

the rich weren’t just beautiful and powerful—they were dirty.

it's a dirty game you were playing. a dirty game in a filthy world.

it wasn’t just about sneaking into fashion shows or getting free drinks.

no, the game got dirtier the deeper you went. men with too much money and too little conscience started noticing you. you knew their type—married with a mistress on speed dial, or single but treating women like accessories to match their suits.

none of them were good men. they were the kind who treated waiters like furniture, snapping their fingers to call them over; like they were at their beck and call. the kind who thought their money could buy loyalty, love, you.

the first time a man offered to buy you something outrageous, it was in one of those places. a dimly lit bar at the top of a five-star hotel, where the view of the city felt like it was reserved for people with trust funds and offshore accounts. you were sitting at the bar, swirling a drink you could barely afford, when he slid into the seat next to you.

stephen, with a p. mid-thirties, expensive watch, the kind of suit that whispered old money.

the conversation started the way it always did—where you’re from, what you do, the kind of small talk that feels like a performance. you mentioned, offhandedly, that your laptop was on its last leg, crashing mid-paper like it had a personal vendetta against your degree. you didn’t expect much from it; just a throwaway comment. that was your humor.

but then he laughed, like it was cute, like you were cute. and with the ease of someone who never had to check their bank account, he said, "send me the specs. i'll take care of it."

you nearly choked on your drink. but you kept your cool, because that’s the rule. don't ogle and squeal like a damn fool; act like you’ve been here before. like men buying you thousand-dollar electronics is just another thursday.

later that night, when you stumbled back into your apartment—tiny, cramped, with the leaky faucet you never got around to fixing—eunji was waiting. the second you closed the door behind you, the facade cracked, you could finally breathe. you both screamed into pillows, half in disbelief, half in exhilaration, like teenagers who’d just pulled off the ultimate prank.

two days later, the laptop arrived. brand new, still in the box, with that fresh-out-the-factory smell.

you and eunji hovered over it like it was some kind of sacred artifact.

"i'll be damned," she said in amusement, hands on her hips.

with a shrug you add, "money talks."

you weren’t just scraping by anymore—you were winning. and that was just the beginning.

the next guy flew you out to milan for the weekend because you joked about never having seen italy. the one who “accidentally” upgraded your hotel suite to a penthouse overlooking the seine.

after that, the finance bro who bought you a cartier bracelet after a month of dating, saying it matched your “timeless beauty.” you still wore it sometimes, not because of him, but because it reminded you of the game you were playing—and winning.

they never really had you. you were always three steps ahead, smiling just enough, leaning in just close enough, keeping them wrapped around your finger while you stayed untouchable at a safe distance.

you and eunji would come home after these nights, collapse onto your couch, and laugh until your stomachs hurt. you’d trade stories like war veterans, compare gifts, and toast to the next big score with whatever cheap wine you had in the fridge.

it wasn’t just about the gifts. It was the thrill of it. the rush of knowing you were beating a system that was never designed for girls like you.

but the thing about dirt—it clings to you, even when you’re wrapped in silk and drowning in champagne.

they were predators, but so were you.

or at least, you learned to be.

it was in the lies you told, the masks you wore, the way you started to forget where the real you ended and the act began.

it was fun at first—a joke, a thrill. but somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like a game. the stakes got higher, the lines got blurrier, and you started wondering if you could ever really wash it all off.

because in this world, the glitter hides the grime. and the higher you climb, the harder it is to tell the difference.

this summer, you and eunji decided to take your two-woman show to monaco. the billionaire's playground.

back at your hotel room, both of you get ready. the faint hum of city traffic seeps in from the cracked window, mingling with the low hum of your shared playlist. your shared room smells like dry shampoo and overpriced perfume samples swiped from department store counters.

you each had a small collection of luxury items you took extra care of, only ever dry cleaning them and wearing them with the utmost care. you exchanged clothes when you wanted to switch it up, relying on each other to keep the ruse going.

your suitcase lies open on the bed, its contents meticulously arranged: the few luxury items you’ve both collected over the years like precious artifacts. a chanel blazer you snagged from a thrift store but had tailored to perfection, a pair of louboutin heels eunji found on ebay, scuffed on the sole but flawless everywhere else, a silk gucci scarf you both swear was a lucky find, even though you’re pretty sure it’s a knockoff.

eunji stands at the mirror, her hair twisted into loose waves, holding up two dresses; one black, one red. she eyes your reflection in the mirror.

"thoughts?"

you glance over from where you’re carefully steaming your blouse, a saint laurent that’s been dry-cleaned more times than you can count.

"the red says 'i own a yacht', but the black says 'i own the company that makes yachts'," you reply.

giggling, she sets the red dress back down to put the black on. "got it."

eunji moves to your side, rifling through your jewelry tray—the bracelet you share, the pearl earrings you got from that flea market but pretend are heirlooms.

grabbing the bracelet, she clasps it around your wrist with practiced ease.

"you wear this tonight. it matches you."

you nod, adjusting the bracelet on your wrist; your good luck charm. meanwhile, she slips into your heels. it’s routine by now, this exchange of identities, this careful curation of the personas you took on.

before heading out, you both step back to inspect each other in the mirror. you take turns doing a spin, making sure no left detail leaves way to reveal yourselves. one wrong move, one slip-up, and the illusion cracks.

word travels fast in this world, everyone is connected; the rich were very particular and serious about the company they keep. and you definitely couldn't afford to be blacklisted, shunned. not when you've come this far.

from the outside, you look like you belong to this world—lounging on fat trust fund bank accounts in tiny bikinis and piña coladas in your hands.

but only you and eunji know the truth; hiding in the tags carefully tucked away, credit card limits stretched thin, and whispered pep talks in hotel rooms like this one.

eunji grins, grabbing her clutch.

"eat the rich, baby."

and with that, you’re out the door, high on adrenaline, walking the thin line between who you are and who the world thinks you are.

fake it till you make it, right?

you never would have imagined faking it would get you invited to one of monaco's most famous fundraisers held for a-class actors celebs and trust fund babies.

the rooftop hums with soft jazz, laughter, and the faint clink of crystal glasses. dim lighting envelops the space, the kind that makes everything feel like a secret.

eunji grins, checking herself in a nearby mirror one last time. "you know, if we pull this off tonight, drinks are on me."

"if we pull this off tonight, drinks are on him." you shoot her a look, nodding to an older man at the bar. she laughs, playfully hitting you.

"i'm gonna be right back." eunji says, pointing to the bathroom.

with a smile and a nod, you make your way over to the bar. sitting down, you order a glass of wine.

you see her before she sees you.

she was elegant, poised, the kind of woman you'd see in old black and white movies. she also took a seat right next to you.

"i'll have what she's having" the woman motions her hands to the bartender, referring to you.

intrigued, you silently sip on your drink.

"i don't believe we've met," she starts, finally addressing you.

"there are many people here," you jest.

"and i know almost every single one of them," she says with a chuckle, one eyebrow raised. "i'm isla. isla montgomery."

as you exchange introductions, she makes small talk. you soon learn about her travels and the two companies she owns.

you don't share much about yourself, and she doesn't pry, either. it seems that she's very fond of herself; which is probably for the best.

feeling a tap on your shoulder, eunji finally graces you with her presence, two eons later.

giving isla an apologetic smile, you excuse yourself. mirroring your smile, she gestures for you to go, assuring you it's no worry.

"who was that?" eunji inquires as you both walk away.

"isla montgomery." you mock with a sarcastic tone and a roll of your eyes, glancing at eunji.

"very fancy," eunji laughs.

spotting a private blackjack table sits slightly apart from the crowd; you and eunji eventually make your way over there.

you watch as men with gold chains and women sprawled across their laps make starting bets with a few months' worth of rent, more or less.

lapping around the table from a distance, you slowly make note of their cards. their movements. their thought processes. you’ve been watching the table for an hour, quietly cataloging every tell, every mistake masked by arrogance and overpriced whiskey.

one guy was doomed the minute he was dealt his hand, a few couldn't bluff to save their lives.

either way; you already knew who would win.

about a half hour later, the result was as you had predicted.

"hey, i'm gonna tap in next round," you inform the croupier.

he nods, preparing your chips.

"what? are you serious?" eunji whisper-yells at you, lightly holding your arm to stop you. "there is no way you can go toe to toe against men who have nothing to lose! you'll be betting on your hard-earned life savings, for god's sake!"

"which is why i won't lose." you affirm.

confidence is everything in your world. it's what got you here in the first place.

"everyone at that table was horseshit. i think i have a fair shot."

"sounds like someone's confident," you hear a presence make itself known behind you.

turning around, your eyes meet the source of the voice.

a chiseled face, every line etched with precision; features carved like stone, softened by the warmth in his eyes.

a tall, well-groomed man who looks only relatively older than you and eunji.

not to mention incredibly sexy. and filthy rich, judging by the sheer amount of body jewelry he's wearing.

he raises a brow and nods his head towards the blackjack table, "think you can take my buddy taehyung?"

you follow his gaze to the blonde—taehyung. you remember him.

slick, confident, a little too eager when he thought no one was paying attention. one of the better ones, but still horseshit.

"how much you wanna bet?"

there’s no pause. no calculation. just the soft clink of his glass against the marble bar as he sets it down and says,

"i'll bet a million on you, golden girl."

the words hang there, heavier than the jazz, sharper than the city lights glittering below.

you blink, processing. you thought he was going to bet on his buddy. that’s how these games work; back your guy, show loyalty, play it safe.

but he’s not playing safe. he’s betting on you.

your pulse kicks up, but you don’t show it. instead, you lean in slightly, your voice low, laced with the same easy confidence he just threw at you.

"a million? you sure you’re not drunk?"

his grin is lazy, but his eyes are razor-sharp. "not drunk. just good at reading people"

you pick up your drink, letting the cool glass ground you, then glance back at taehyung. "let's see what blondie's got."

a million. jesus.

these people really have nothing better to do with their money.

despite your shock, you were just glad you didn't have to bet with your own money.

you move toward the table, every step deliberate, like you’ve already won. in reality, you were just trying to fathom what you got yourself into.

showtime.

you're not supposed to be here. not at this party, not at this table. but here you are, sliding into the empty seat like you own it, your dress catching the light just enough to look expensive. despite your internal panic, you don't fidget. that’s the rule. act like you belong, and no one will question it.

and never, ever show weakness. the lions won't hesitate to pounce.

you play with calm precision, not reckless but with just enough boldness to stir curiosity. you don't count cards, you read people.

betting when others hesitate, folding with a slight smirk like you know more than you let on.

years of quietly observing wealth were being put to the test, at this very moment.

you’re dealt a 9 of hearts and a 6 of spades; that’s 15. not great.

taehyung has a face card showing: an 8 of diamonds. strong position.

you get another card: 5 of clubs. now you’ve got 20—almost perfect.

everyone expects you to stand. it’s the smart move.

but you don’t.

you tap the table. "hit me."

gasps ripple around the table. the dealer hesitates, then deals. 9 of spades. you bust with 29. game over.

taehyung smirks as he plays his hand, thinking you’re reckless. jeongguk watches closely, his interest sharpened.

"guess i was feeling bold," you say, flashing a sheepish smile.

everyone assumes you've made a rookie mistake. they laugh it off, but in that split second, you've done something much more subtle: you've read taeyhung's body language.

he doesn't leave himself open for too long, immediately putting his poker face back on.

but you've already seen it—that tiny flinch in his jaw when you hit on 20. he wouldn’t have risked it. he’s cautious, calculated. but now? now you’ve thrown him off balance.

you've watched him closely, just long enough to notice the tiny flinch when you hit on 20. he doesn’t want to take risks like you did—he’s more cautious—but his pride won’t let him stand back and let you crash and burn. he watches you, and that tiny hesitation is all you need.

so when he faces a similar hand, he hesitates; like you had expected.

your words from earlier echo in his head: "the bold move is the smart move."

the smart move is to stand. but the weight of his friend's million-dollar bet on you lingers in the air, clouding his judgement. he starts to second guess himself.

taehyung knows he can't lose here, not after all the bluster. he should stand, but he feels the weight of the moment. it’s too much.

looking around, he tries to read the room.

taehyung picks up on the tension. if you're confident enough to risk hitting on 20, maybe you know something he doesn’t.

you smile next to him, tilting your head like you've already won.

his ego can't handle it.

and so he taps.

pushing away your chips, you get up. as you rise from your seat, you lean down, voice low enough for only him to hear.

"you play the cards. i play the player."

it hits him right as the dealer flips taehyung’s hidden card. he had 15, just like you did earlier. thinking you were reckless, he copied your moves.

he hit when he should’ve stood—

—and bust.

jeongguk chuckles quietly, not surprised.

"she's good."

you walk back over to him. leaning back against the bar, a slow grin spreads on his face.

"i didn’t bet on you to win the hand. i bet on you to win the game."

and you did.

maybe not the blackjack game, but you won the game.

leaning into his ear, you whisper, "what's a million anyway, right?"

with a soft triumphant smirk, you straighten up and walk away.

next >

series masterpost | masterlist | taglist

taglist: @rpwprpwprpwprw

[corpsentry]

🦞🐢🪱emergency commissions🎢🉐🌋

reblogs/shares appreciated

hi all! the queer housing sydney facebook group betrayed me and et voila, my bi and intersex 40~ yo housemate is 1) deeply unstable 2) virulently racist, homophobic, and transphobic and 3) threatening me with eviction as and when she feels like it so i’m opening emergency commissions to support myself while i try to juggle this, my masters studies, play taiko, and look for a new place to move into given that ‘the moment the cats are in danger she will have to ask me to leave immediately’.

to do this, i will be offering poems or colored digital sketches for 20 usd/25 sgd. i will draw anything except for mecha (too hard). i will happily attempt nsfw but it probably won’t go that well. as for poems, any topic is game but please keep text-based prompts under 50 words. i’ll ask for 50% payment upfront and then the rest after the commission is complete. to reserve a slot, dm me or email me at corpsentry@gmail.com

all funds will go towards food, bridging rent to my next place, and the occasional sad wrap from some roadside cafe as i am terrified of using the kitchen and basically shut myself up in my room when i am home. if you cannot afford the full amount but would like to help you may consider buying me a ko-fi (link in bio) and leaving a character/prompt for which i will draw a small doodle as thanks.

i landed in australia last month and this is frankly the funniest worst thing that’s ever happened to me so any and all support is deeply appreciated. reposts and story shares are also very helpful. thank you for your time

below are screenshots of some of the circumstances for reference and because she is insane and i need to tell someone or i will also become insane. thanks again

[odinsblog]

Land and Housing

As a result of decades of land confiscations and discriminatory land policies, Israeli authorities have hemmed in Palestinian towns and villages, while nurturing the growth and expansion of Jewish communities, many of which in practice exclude Palestinians. The majority of Palestinians in Israel live in these communities, while some live in “mixed cities” like Tel Aviv-Jaffa and Haifa.

Ninety-three percent of all land in Israel constitutes state land, directly controlled by the Israeli government. Israeli authorities confiscated much of this land, several million dunams, from Palestinians through several different legal instruments, as documented in a later chapter of this report. A government agency, the Israel Land Authority (ILA), manages and allocates state lands. Almost half the members of its governing body belong to the JNF, whose explicit mandate is to develop and lease land for Jews and not any other segment of the population. The fund owns 13 percent of Israel’s land, which the state is mandated to use “for the purpose of settling Jews.”

Israeli authorities have almost exclusively allocated state lands for the development and expansion of Jewish communities. Since 1948, the government has authorized the creation of more than 900 “Jewish localities” in Israel, but none for Palestinians except for a handful of government-planned townships and villages in the Negev and Galilee, created largely to concentrate previously displaced Bedouin communities. Less than 3 percent of all land in Israel falls under the jurisdiction of Palestinian municipalities, where the majority of Palestinian citizens live, according to a 2017 estimate by Israeli and Palestinian groups.

Even inside Palestinian towns and villages within Israel, Israeli authorities discriminatorily restrict the land available for residential growth. The authorities have zoned large sections of Palestinian towns and villages for “agricultural” use or as “green” areas, prohibited residential building in them, and built roads and other infrastructure projects that impede expansion. A 2003 Israeli government-commissioned report found that “many Arab towns and villages were surrounded by land designated for purposes such as security zones, Jewish regional councils, national parks and nature reserves or highways, which prevent or impede the possibility of their expansion in the future.”

While increasing focus in recent years on these issues has resulted in more state-approved residential development, they have done little to date to change the reality of hemmed-in Palestinian towns and villages. By contrast, in case studies documented by Human Rights Watch in each of Israel’s six districts, planning authorities provided sufficient land and zoning permissions to predominantly Jewish communities to facilitate their growth.

(continue reading)

[thefusioncelestial]

Mix 5: The Rich Bear

Here is Tyler:

Nature boy disguised as park ranger. Very out doorsey, loves camping, and an astrologist. Apparently, the lack of light pollution, many night shifts in the woods will introduce you to the stars. And he wrestles bears, races with the deer, swims with the fishes, and lord knows what he does with birds. Sings with them? Basically the Avatar of the Park. And in all his time as a park ranger, poaching has gone down to zilch in his nature reserve.

And then there is John:

The city boy. You would think he was a typical rich play boy. But its an act. When you are put together & don't have to work a day in your life, a lot of people want to use you to get to that status. He spends his waking hours funding charitable causes through art auctions. Yes, the fake play boy has an artist side. Very good for fashion tips too.

They both know each other. They hated each other in high school. Something about being rivals io the same basketball team back in the day. The clashing energy pushing their team to win state every year until graduation. They started out at different colleges. But depending on who you ask, they followed or stalked each other because they ended up at the same uni for the actual undergrad work.

Tyler studied Zoology. John, Fashion Design. And despite not sharing a single class, they ended up at the same club: Scuba diving. The experience inspired them in different ways, and before graduation, they buried the hatchet. They made a promise. If they were not married in five years, they would meet up at a certain park at its main pavilion. This wasn't a marriage proposal, they just were curious on how two different life trajectories could lead to the same resort of being single.

John could have married anyone. He was well liked, well known, and never struggled for a thing. His relationships just ended when he found out their motives or at least his perception of such. His money. One scheme was marriage, divorce, and then a rich alimony. Another, she didn't need to marry him, just get her pregnant. He hoped Tyler was having a better time...

But Tyler never tried. He put his full focus into animal related work, and found he could do the most good as a park ranger. He liked the outdoors too. He could be a bit much, at least once or twice or week, he would go out working shirtless. Something about a better connection to life. Thank god he didn't turn into one of those online life gurus. He figured John would have baby mommas all over the city by now. The ladies were al over him in Uni. A new girlfriend every week. Tyler shuddered at the child support payments. Especially once the court knew he was loaded.

And that was the life, avoiding baby traps, and snapping bear traps, but eventually that date came closer.

At first neither of them were going to show up. What are the chances they both messed up? But they went anyway. A change of environment helps anyone no matter the settings.

Knotfield Park. A giant hilly grass land with pavilions on selected hilltops. The one this pair aimed for was the biggest one in the middle. John came in a Mercedes-Ben, & Tyler a park ranger truck.

They both arrived at the pavilion at the same time. They were both surprised.

"Uncommitted Playboi," Tyler blerted.

"Senator Moosefarts," John responded.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before they both broke into a smile and hugged each other.

John started. "Who knew we striked out unlucky. A rich boy with nothing to do, and a nature boy living it up with bears."

"How did you know? Were you spying on me?" Tyler asked.

"Word got around that the God of the Wild emigrated to the US and I investigated. Come to find out, it was you being you. No matter how much you hide from the world, it finds you. Maybe we should switch lives..", John said, ending in a sad tone.

"All I got is money. Doesn't lead to healthy foundations in the relationship department," he exclaimed.

"Bears scare off the ladies you know." Tyler quipped.

"So what now?" he asked.

"You know I work in auction houses right? So, I get a peek at a lot of stuff with a lot of history. Snagged one for this occasion. It's ~~~Magic~~~." John said enthusiastically.

Tyler remembered that John was into supernatural stuff when he was in high school.

"How is a magic item going to fix our problems? Is a genie's lamp? First wish: never ending apple pie.." Tyler licked his lips.

"Haha, no. A magic mirror. One from ancient Mesopotamia." John Said.

"Historical trash. We going to admire ourselves into a new future?" Tyler said sarcastically.

"Moosefarts, the mirror works as a fortune telling device. You put a piece of your own hair on the polished surface and point it to the stars, and it illuminates the way."

It was now night time. The stars clear in view.

"Let's try it." Tyler said.

"Oh?" John said in confusion.

Tyler already cut off a piece of his hair to put on this mirror. John quickly did the same.

"Why at the same time, Playboi?" Tyler asked.

"Why not." John responded.

He pointed the mirror at the sky. Nothing a happened.

"Maybe you are doing it wrong, Maybe the stars don't give enough light. Point at the moon," insistently said by Tyler.

"Someone is a bit excited by my expensive trash." John Smiled.

He tried the moon, and then the etchings around the mirror glowed. Both Tyler & John could read it for some reason, and they both said

"Two paths, under the moon, converge as one. The source of life, a river."

The mirror's polished surface glowed brighter and brighter until they were both glowing. A light path formed from their feet forming two light roads. Leading to the nearby forest.

"You see what I am seeing?" John asked.

"Yes." Tyler responded.

Tyler trusted his instincts and started following his path.

John hesitated, and then following Tyler's example to not be outdone, followed his.

After 30 minutes, they were in the middle of the woods. Skinny trees, it was fall time to, so not much foliage blocking the way. A lot of brown leaves on the forest floor tho.

Their paths eventually converged, a figure cloaked in light was at the convergence point. They couldn't make out any features except it being humanoid shaped.

"Do yo trust me, John?" Tyler asked.

"This time sure, I got you into this." John joked.

They both walked closer. But as they did. They became enamored by this being. They never stopped walking, and soon they were up real close to it. And yet they didn't stop. They were inside the glowing figure. John half way on one side, Tyler the other. Was it a hologram?

Just then, the light exploded and the two best friends were jerked forward. They smashed against each other & then turned into light particles. They floated for a bit and then swirled around the glowing figure.

The swirling lights that was once John & Tyler converged inside this light being in waves, smashing into it. Each time, the light being gained distinguishing features and became more solid, the light glowing dimmer.

The first wave: The humanoid being was now a skeletal frame surrounded by light.

The second wave: the nervous and vascular system started growing like vines and grew around in and the skeletal frame. A brain was forming.

The third wave: organs and & muscles were formed. It looked like one of those life sized cadaver models of the body without skin.

The fourth wave: Blood starts pumping and skin is formed.

Mentally, John & Tyler were confused. They were inside this light being & at the same time swirling around it.

The fifth wave: They understood. The light being was them. Both of them. In a sense they met their future self and he used the past to bring himself to the present. They were broken down into light and used to make him. Their destiny was to become one and chart a new future. Strangely, they excepted this. Life always brought them together. Maybe that was the hint that they were one being in two bodes. And now they shall be whole.

They gave in. Their minds were broken apart and put back together as one mind.

The sixth wave: John & Tyler's dna was mixed together and added to being. With this set of new instructions, the generic body began to morph.

Tyler's physique was used as the template. The skin tightened & etched Tyler's features the neck down. Loud stretching noises were produced. The biceps bulged out and the shoulders & pecs grew with a popping noise, but John's physique was added as well, and the H body shape was more fleshed out, like being pulled from both sides from the waist. The skin was fighting against this and so he became more cut, and his veins became more visible.

John's face was used as the template. The features morphed to copy John's but soon Tyler's characteristics had their say in this. The eyes became more sunken, the lip color more towards the skin tone. The ears moved to be more like Tyler's. When it came to hair, it was short cut like John's but darker like Tyler's. John's hairline won out, but Tyler's eyes would be used. Tyler's jawline and chin would win out, but John 's potential for facial hair gave him a lowkey grizzled look. The chin was a combination of both, long & thick.

Tyler's ass would form on it, and in the front, John won out. He was well endowed and needed no upgrading. Like his chin, his jewels would get hairy. But Tyler had better leg days from being out in nature, but it would use John's feet. Though for this new being its leg muscles got bigger and stronger than Tyler's, thanks to John.

Throughout this process, he would not make a sound. No moaning, no grunting. The only noise being made was from his body forming. He would find that he had a high pain tolerance.

The Seventh wave: It was shirtless like Tyler likes to be, but it had John's denim jeans.

The final wave: Their life force was added. The light built up again and let out a quick, but bright flash. He was alive. He slumped to the ground and began breathing air. His lungs sucked in the oxygen like a pair of black holes.

Who was he? This was the true final step. The name he chose would solidify the merger of the best friends, there would be one mind going forward. Just say who you are.

He stood up and opened his eyes:

I am James. His jeans became unbuttoned. He fixed that. He would need to get some new clothing.

What does he do in life? Run's charities to fund wildlife refuges. He spends his life between city & nature. James felt a sudden rush of confidence. It was his Tyler half pushing away what kept John from forming relationships: a fear of commitment. He knew someone, Analise. And with John helped push away Tyler's social anxiety. He kept his love of nature but would not selfishly keep that to himself. And with John's money, he could hire a team of new park rangers to protect Tyler's old park. He would still wrestles bears, race with deer, swim with the fish, and lord knows what he does with birds. He would just not do it alone anymore.

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

“Dark Water”

Chapter Seven: Lula’s Guardian

The Bad Batch x Reader

The clatter of rain never stopped on Kamino. It was like living beneath the pulse of a war drum, distant and relentless. But inside the Fett quarters, it was strangely quiet.

You leaned against the reinforced plastoid railing of the mezzanine walkway, staring down at the domed courtyard below — a place reserved for off-duty clone instructors, personal guests, and Jango’s private space.

He approached from behind, bootsteps familiar as your own.

“Didn’t think you’d still be here,” Jango said, stopping beside you.

You shrugged. “Didn’t think you’d be off the grid all day.”

“I wasn’t.” He glanced at you, the faintest of smirks playing on his face. “You were busy impressing my brats.”

You huffed a short laugh. “One of them said I’d probably miss if I threw a grenade.”

“Crosshair?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t take it personally. He talks like that about me.”

You turned toward him fully. The years had been kind to Jango, but they’d etched sharper lines around his mouth, deepened the shadows under his eyes. He still moved like a predator — calm, calculating — but there was a weight to him now. One you hadn’t seen before Kamino.

“Why me?” you asked.

Jango raised a brow.

“For Clone Force 99. Why did you send my name to the Kaminoans?”

His gaze sharpened. “Because you’re a warrior, and you don’t flinch.”

“Not the only one like that.”

“No,” he said. “But the only one like that who could handle them.”

You paused. “You know they don’t like me.”

“They don’t have to,” Jango said evenly. “They just have to live.”

He turned away, motioning for you to follow down the stairs.

“C’mon. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Jango’s Quarters was more spartan than you expected. A weapons locker, an old beskar chest pushed against the wall, and scattered datapads with Mandalorian script. In the center of the room sat a small boy, maybe five — tousled dark hair, oversized training tunic, chewing absently on a ration bar.

He looked up the moment Jango entered.

“Bu’ad,” Jango said gently. “Come here.”

The boy bounded up instantly, grinning.

You blinked. “That’s… Boba?”

“Boba,” Jango said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “This is your vod’ika. Not by blood, but close enough.”

You crouched down, smiling. “You’re taller than I expected.”

Boba beamed. “I’m gonna be just like my buir.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you said. “He’s a legend.”

“I know,” Boba whispered loudly, as if it were the greatest secret in the galaxy.

Jango chuckled. “Alright, go run drills with the nanny droid for a bit.”

Boba nodded, then scampered off toward the adjoining room — though not without one last curious glance at you.

When he was gone, Jango poured two cups of black caf and handed one to you.

You sat across from him.

“So,” you said, “you’re a father now.”

He nodded slowly. “By choice.”

“And the clones?”

His jaw tightened. “Not by choice.”

You studied him. “How did it happen, Jango?”

He took a sip, then leaned back in the chair.

“War’s always coming. One way or another. The Kaminoans were looking for a template. Someone clean, efficient, deadly. I fit the bill. They made me an offer.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Credits?”

“That. And Boba.”

“You asked for a son?”

“I asked for one clone. Unaltered. No growth acceleration. No behavioral programming. He’s… mine.”

“That’s not nothing,” you said quietly.

“No,” Jango agreed. “It isn’t.”

A long pause stretched between you.

“You trust them?” you asked. “The Kaminoans?”

He snorted. “Not for a second. But they know better than to cross me.”

“And the people behind them?”

Jango’s eyes didn’t flinch, but something behind them hardened.

“What people?” he asked mildly.

You studied his face. That cold calm you’d seen a dozen times before jobs went south. That silence full of what he wouldn’t say.

“I’m not stupid,” you said quietly. “Someone had to fund this. Someone gave Kamino the specs. The tech. A million clones don’t just grow in a vacuum.”

He met your gaze, unreadable.

“I took a job,” he said. “That’s all.”

“And the war they’re making?”

“That’s not my problem.”

You leaned forward. “You don’t believe that.”

He held your gaze for a long time.

Then said, with deliberate finality: “I made sure Boba would live. That’s all I need.”

You let the silence sit.

Then rose.

“Thanks for the caf.”

“Any time,” Jango said.

You reached the door before he called after you.

“They’re not ready,” he said. “Clone Force 99. But they could be. They just need someone to show them what survival really means.”

You didn’t turn around.

“That’s why you chose me, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t need to.

⸻

Tipoca City – Training Dome 6B

It was supposed to be a routine drill.

Obstacle navigation, simulated fire zones, and basic squad cohesion maneuvers — things the regs had been doing in their sleep since they were six.

But nothing with Clone Force 99 was ever routine.

“Crosshair, left flank! Tech, cover his six!” you barked into the comm.

“I am covering his six—he keeps moving erratically!” Tech snapped back.

“I’m not erratic,” Crosshair drawled, “I’m calculating angles.”

Wrecker laughed as he barreled through the debris field like a walking tank, clipping a wall and knocking a droid AI unit clean off its feet. “I got ‘em!”

“You weren’t supposed to punch it!” you shouted.

“It worked, didn’t it?!”

Hunter slid into cover near your position, panting slightly. “We’re never gonna pass this one.”

“Not with that attitude, you won’t,” you muttered, pressing a hand to your earpiece. “Tech, Hunter’s lead. Follow his cues. Crosshair, stay high. Wrecker—try not to demolish the course again.”

“Hey, no promises!”

They grumbled, but obeyed.

Mostly.

You watched from the command booth as they regrouped. The feed flickered with their biosigns — elevated, but stable. For all their disorganization, they improvised well. Adapted in ways most clones couldn’t.

They didn’t think like soldiers.

They thought like survivors.

And something about that pulled at you.

The drill concluded in chaotic fashion — Wrecker yelling triumphantly, Tech ranting about misaligned blast gates, and Crosshair muttering about “dead weight” (probably referring to everyone).

Hunter was quiet, but proud. You could see it in the way he adjusted his gloves. Not a boast. Just recognition.

You dismissed them with a wave. “Ten-minute cooldown. Then we debrief.”

Wrecker dropped to the floor, sweating through his cadet tunic. “I think I dislocated a building.”

Tech was already halfway through recalibrating his HUD. “The emitter pattern was wrong. The entire drill’s skewed if we’re measuring timing.”

Crosshair had his arms crossed. “We still beat the regs. By thirty-two seconds.”

You folded your arms. “You’re not competing with the regs. You’re competing with what you could be.”

Hunter gave you a long, unreadable look.

⸻

They sat in a loose semi-circle, sharing a stolen snack pack from the mess. You didn’t interrupt — not yet. You watched.

Wrecker tore a ration bar in half and handed the bigger piece to Crosshair, who scoffed but took it anyway.

Tech was drawing something in the dirt with a stim stylus — probably mapping out the course angles again.

Hunter was still. Always observing.

You sat beside them.

Crosshair raised a brow. “Didn’t know you were off-duty.”

“I’m not.”

Wrecker scooted closer, like a happy tooka. “You should be. That was a long one.”

You chuckled. “For you, maybe.”

There was a pause — not awkward. Just… uncertain.

Then Tech spoke, voice surprisingly tentative. “Your last simulation. The one with Skirata and the others. That wasn’t standard training.”

You shook your head. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

Crosshair narrowed his eyes. “Was it real?”

You looked at him. “It was earned.”

Another pause.

Wrecker spoke next, quieter than usual. “Do you think we’ll ever be good enough for real missions?”

You blinked. “You already are. You just don’t trust each other enough yet.”

Hunter’s gaze didn’t move, but you could see the thought turning in his eyes.

Crosshair leaned back. “We’re not like the others.”

“Good,” you said. “The others don’t scare the Kaminoans.”

They all looked at you.

“I’ve seen the reports,” you continued. “Heard what Nala Se says when she thinks I’m not listening. You terrify them. Because you’re unpredictable. Because you think.”

Tech frowned. “That’s… good?”

You nodded. “It means you’re alive.”

Silence again.

Not because they didn’t believe you.

But because they wanted to.

You stood. “Tomorrow, we run that course again. No arguments. No bickering.”

Wrecker groaned.

“But,” you added, glancing at each of them, “this time… we do it together.”

You turned to leave.

Then paused.

“And Wrecker?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m proud of you for not punching me today.”

He grinned. “I thought about it!”

You smirked. “I know.”

⸻

The facility was quiet this late at night. Only the hum of climate control vents and the ever-present drum of Kaminoan rain filled the corridors. Lights dimmed to blue, casting the pristine white walls in an eerie, oceanic glow.

You didn’t expect to find one of your cadets awake.

But there he was.

Hunter sat cross-legged on the edge of the elevated mat platform in the sparring room, head bowed, palms resting against his knees. His hair was messy — pushed back like always, but looser, more boyish in the soft light. He didn’t look up when you walked in.

“I could hear you breathing from the hallway,” he said quietly.

“Guess your enhancements work,” you replied, stepping onto the mat.

Still, he didn’t look at you.

You crossed your arms, waiting.

Finally, he said, “I don’t think I can do this.”

The words were nearly lost beneath the rain.

You said nothing, letting them settle in the air.

“I keep trying to lead them,” he went on, “but they don’t listen. Tech thinks he’s smarter than everyone. Crosshair acts like we’re wasting his time. Wrecker—” he paused, half-smiling. “He’s great, but he’s like a speeder with the brakes ripped out.”

You sat down across from him.

“I’m supposed to be the one who holds them together,” he said, voice soft. “But we’re defective. That’s what they call us. What if they’re right?”

Your gaze stayed steady. “Are you asking me that, or are you just scared they are?”

His eyes flicked to yours for the first time.

“Both,” he admitted.

You exhaled slowly. “Hunter… do you think Jango Fett was perfect?”

The question caught him off guard. “He’s the template.”

“He’s also stubborn, moody, dangerous, and doesn’t work well with others.” You leaned forward. “You ever seen Jango follow an order he didn’t like?”

“…No.”

“Exactly.” You tilted your head. “But you know what he does do? Survive. Adapt. Think on his feet. Just like you.”

Hunter frowned. “But we’re not like him.”

“No. You’re better.”

He looked up, startled.

“You have the things that make him dangerous,” you said. “But you’ve also got the things that make him human.” You tapped your temple. “You feel things. You care about the people around you. Even when it scares you.”

“I’m not scared,” Hunter said quickly — too quickly.

You gave him a look.

“…Okay. A little.”

You smiled faintly. “Good. Means you’re not a droid.”

He glanced down at his gloves, fingers flexing. “You said today that we need to… weaponise what makes us different.”

You nodded.

“But how?”

“You learn to understand it. Own it. Use it like a blade.”

You reached into your utility belt and pulled a training knife — blunted, but weighted. You set it down between you.

“This,” you said, “is nothing but durasteel until you know how to hold it. Then it becomes something dangerous. Your squad is the same.”

Hunter looked at the knife, then at his reflection in the polished floor beneath.

“What if I mess up?”

“You will.”

He blinked.

“You will mess up,” you repeated. “They all do. Even Jango. Even me. But it’s not about getting it right every time. It’s about showing up again the next day. Doing better. Being better.”

Hunter was quiet for a long time.

Then, barely louder than the rain, he asked: “Do you think we’ll make it?”

You studied the boy in front of you — bruised from drills, uncertain of his own value, and yet already carrying the weight of others.

You reached out and set a hand on his shoulder.

“I think,” you said, “you’ll change everything.”

He looked at you — really looked — and for the first time, you saw something settle behind his eyes.

Belief.

Not fully formed, not solid yet.

But real.

And growing.

⸻

Tipoca City – Clone Cadet Barracks, 0340 Hours

The halls of Tipoca were silent save for the ever-present storm thundering against the transparisteel windows. The clones were all asleep — or powered down, as some trainers cruelly referred to it — resting in their rows of bunk beds like equipment on a rack.

But not Wrecker.

He kicked off his sheets for the third time, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. His breaths came shallow and uneven. In the dream, there was fire — not like the plasma blasts from drills. Real fire. Screams that didn’t sound simulated. A feeling in his chest like he was drowning even though everything was burning.

He woke with a choked cry.

And didn’t want to go back to sleep.

So he slipped out.

⸻

Your Quarters – Ten Minutes Later

You were half asleep when the soft chime sounded at your door.

Odd.

Most of the staff didn’t call on you unless it was morning drills or alerts. You rolled out of bed in loose sleep gear and tapped the panel.

Wrecker stood there.

Helmetless, eyes wide, lower lip trembling just slightly — just enough to break your heart.

“I… had a bad dream,” he mumbled.

Your voice softened instinctively. “Come in, ad’ika.”

He stepped in slowly, trying to be brave, trying not to act ten. But his shoulders hunched like someone expecting to be sent away.

You gestured to the couch near the window. “You want to talk about it?”

He nodded. Then shook his head. Then shrugged. “I don’t remember much. Just… fire. I didn’t like it.”

You knelt in front of him, resting your arms on your knees. “I used to get bad dreams too. Still do sometimes.”

“Really?” he looked up, eyes wide.

You nodded. “Some are just my mind being noisy. Others… are memories I wish I could forget.”

He looked at his hands, uncertain. “What do you do when you have them?”

You reached over to your footlocker and pulled something small from within. It was a little worn — one ear flopped more than the other — but it was clean, patched up over the years.

A tooka doll.

“I used to sleep with this,” you said softly. “When things got bad. My riduur gave it to me when I was young.”

Wrecker took it like it was made of glass. “Can I name it?”

“Of course.”

He squinted, thinking hard.

“Lula,” he said finally. “She looks like a Lula.”

You smiled. “Perfect.”

There was a long pause. Wrecker clutched Lula close to his chest, looking at the couch. Then, without looking up:

“…Can I sleep in your bed? Just for tonight?”

Your answer came instantly.

“Yes.”

You had drifted into sleep again, Wrecker curled against your side with Lula tucked between his arms. His breathing was deep and steady — peaceful for once.

Then.

Knock knock.

You groaned softly, sitting up.

At the door stood Tech, hair rumpled and datapad clutched like a lifeline.

“I calculated the odds of Wrecker surviving a fall off the barracks bunk unassisted. They’re low,” he said. “But I see he’s with you. So…”

You opened the door fully.

“…Can I stay, too?”

You nodded, stepping aside.

He curled up at the foot of your bed, back to Wrecker, datapad clutched like a teddy bear.

You were barely settling again when the third interruption came.

“Move,” Crosshair grumbled.

You opened the door mid-knock this time. “I didn’t expect you.”

He scowled. “It’s cold.”

You tilted your head.

“…And quiet.”

You didn’t say a word. Just opened the covers.

He climbed in begrudgingly, somehow managing to take up minimal space. He curled tight, facing away from everyone — until your arm wrapped around him instinctively.

He didn’t even protest.

He was asleep in seconds.

Hunter was last.

He didn’t knock. Just stood in the doorway, eyes soft.

“I felt them get up,” he said quietly.

You moved over, giving him space.

“They’re just kids,” you murmured as he settled beside you.

He nodded once.

“So are you,” you added.

“…I don’t feel like it.”

“Good,” you whispered. “Because tonight, you don’t have to be.”

The storm outside softened.

Inside your quarters, five bodies lay tangled together in sleep. Lula dangled from Wrecker’s arm. Crosshair had shifted until his head rested against your shoulder. Tech was still cradling his pad, but your blanket had somehow ended up wrapped around all of them.

Your bed was too small.

Your heart was too full.

⸻

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[alexthebordercollie]

Nanemooaka

contains harm to animals, contains blood, contains injury

⸸ = violence ♡ = sexual content

˗ˏˋ▽△𓆩 ⌣𓆪△▽ˎˊ˗

𓊈 19|72 𓊉

⸙ "Greetings. I'm Dr. Stanford Pines. I'm here conducting research on the anomalous properties of Gravity Falls, Oregon, on behalf of Backupsmore University."

Ford knew the school was obscure and unimpressive, but no more reputable universities would have approved funding for his Unified Theory of Weirdness. The joke would be on them when Ford's research made history.

⸙ "I was hoping to get an interview with one of your elders regarding local legends about the valley."

Ford had been preparing for weeks for this interview. He even got his hands on a Northern Paiute dictionary and memorized all of it. Of course, there were some words missing he still had to substitute with English, and he'd never heard any of them said out loud, and he didn't have many academic resources on the language's grammatical structure, but Ford was confident in his competency nonetheless. He wasn't fluent, but he was surely comprehensible.

The young Pauite man who greeted him in the main office raised an eyebrow at him. "You know, we speak English, man."

"Oh, uhm, yes, right." Ford paused awkwardly and thumbed the spine of the journal in his hands. It was his second since arriving in Oregon. A decent chunk of it had already been filled with arcane spells. He'd already buried that cursed amulet that had been driving him power mad and sociopathic. Turns out humans weren't well built for spell casting. Ford needed his mind sharp, so getting off the stuff and shifting gears to archeology seemed like a good call.

Seemed like it.

As Ford stood there staring back at the clerk of the Burns Paiute Tribal Headquarters, it started to dawn on him that archeology was going to require a fair deal of social engagement. That was fine. All he had to do was talk to people. How difficult could that possibly be?

The clerk stared at him silently for several seconds.

"Uhm-"

The young man behind the counter made a circular motion with his hand. "You gonna run that by me again, man?"

"You don't-"

"I got, like, every other word, man. A name, and something about a University."

Oh... only the English parts. Either this young man didn't speak Paiute... or Ford didn't speak Paiute... Ford ignored the stabbing psychic pain, straightened up, and cleared his throat. He repeated his introduction, in English, with the same rehearsed confidence.

"Ooooh, alright." The man behind the counter looked Ford up and down for a moment. "So you're from Gravity Falls then?"

"That is my current base of operations, yes," Ford confirmed. He'd driven several hours out to get here and was hoping this reservation might have possible descendants of the valley's original inhabitants.

The other man's eyes seemed to linger for a second on the journal in Ford's hands. No, not the journal. There it was again, that stabbing pain. Ford tucked his journal back into his coat and folded his hands behind his back, shoulders square, chest out, freakish fingers out of sight.

"Oh yeah, you look like you're from Gravity Falls."

Ford paused as the clerk went back to get someone without a word.

"What's that-" he didn't have a chance to ask. He was left standing alone in the office for a bit, wondering if he should take that as an insult or a compliment.

If nothing else, it was a promising sign, wasn't it?

He had been remarking on Ford's hands. They were anomalous. He must have meant to say that Gravity Falls was known for its anomalies, so a researcher with six fingers seemed a natural product of the valley's magnetism. That's it. This was a very good sign, a lead. Ford wasn't the only one to notice how weird Gravity Falls was. Most people scoffed at his studies. People thought he was a crackpot. Not the natives, they knew better. These people knew this land better than anyone. Surely they would believe him.

Ford was practically giddy with excitement by the time the clerk came back.

"Oh, so uh-" The clerk paused when he came back and spotted Ford smiling to himself and rocking on his heels at the front desk.

Ford stopped and redirected his smile at the clerk and the older woman he came in with. "Greetings, Dr. Stanford Pines, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss-?"

"Mary." The woman introduced herself somewhat hesitantly. She held out her hand for Ford to shake.

Ford mentally checked his face. It felt like he was smiling too much. He cleared his throat and dialed back the ear-to-ear grin. He looked down at the hand being offered to him and hesitated for a couple of seconds before reaching out to take it. His left hand clumsily swallowed up her delicate fingers and brought back memories of being screamed at in grade school. No matter, he didn't maintain contact longer than the bare minimum that was socially required of him. He retracted his hand behind his back once the ritual was complete.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mary. Would one of your elders perchance have time for an interview?"

Mary blinked and propped her hands up on her hips. "You're talking to one of 'em."

"Oh." Ford was far from ungrateful, but admittedly, Mary wasn't exactly what he'd been picturing. She was older than Ford, but far from the wise sage he'd been expecting. If anything, she reminded him a little bit of his mother, with her acrylic nails and gold hoop earrings. That certainly wasn't any kind of omen.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, you just look so young." Ford tried to salvage the awkward exchange as best as possible.

Mary nodded slowly. "Uh-huh. Our community is pretty young."

"I noticed. Founded seven years ago. I read about your cultural restoration project. Deeply admirable work."

"Difficult work, but worth it."

"Oh, I'm sure. I had to rob a grave to find good resources on your language." Ford excitedly fished around in his coat for the little Paiute dictionary he'd been relying on and held up the dusty book where they could see it. A tiny leather-bound collection of notes, saddle-stitched with aged yellow twine. It was a miracle, so much of it was still legible.

The elder adjusted her cat-eye glasses and squinted down at the title on the cover. "A Thorough Study of the Savage Language of the Mountainous West?"

"Who the hell is B.S.Fraudenstien?"

Ford shrank back slightly before correcting himself. He had nothing to be ashamed of. "An early researcher into Native American culture. His work wasn't always methodologically ideal and was poorly preserved, but his writings on the Pauite region have proved more comprehensive than any other resource I've found."

"Right..." Mary stood back up and popped her back. "And you said you were researching Gravity Falls?"

"That is correct." Ford was beaming. Finally, someone who might understand the nature of his research. "I have identified a statistically improbable congregation of anomalies in the town of Gravity Falls, and I suspect the native myths about the valley being cursed might have something to do with it."

"You heard the legends, huh?"

Ford nodded emphatically.

Mary turned to the clerk for a moment and muttered something to him. The clerk muttered something back.

Ford's heart sank as he watched them talk. They were speaking Pauite. They could speak Pauite.

Ford could not.

Ford understood just enough to know they were talking about Gravity Falls. He knew some words, others he could guess by context or etymology. The conjugation had him lost, and he only really understood every other word.

No wonder the clerk hadn't understood him.

Another stabbing pain.

Mary turned back to Ford after a moment. "The cursed valley is a deeply guarded secret," she told him. She adopted a regal posture as she took a step forward, looking down at Ford from behind her cat-eye lenses. "We can't trust our ancient knowledge to any foolhardy scholars who come seeking it out."

"Oh, yes, yes, of course." Ford had been foolish to think it would be so easy. If the Grand Unified Theory of Weirdness was obvious, some other scientist would have already discovered it.

"If there is anything I can do to prove my merit, just say the word." Ford was practically buzzing from the anticipation.

Mary flattered for a second and struggled to suppress a snicker. She seemed a bit taken aback by Ford's enthusiasm, but he meant every word. Mary turned back to whisper back and forth with the clerk again in Paiute. After a brief discussion, she regained her composure and looked down her nose at Ford.

"Very well then, prove you are a friend to our people by bringing us a sacred beast."

Ford rushed to pull his journal back out, flipped to a random empty page, and swiftly clicked open his pen. "On it! Exactly what does this creature look like? I promise I'll have it to you by Monday morning!"

Mary covered her lips to hide a small smile.

"It's a wampus cat," the clerk interjected.

"Oh yes, she used to be one of us but was lost in the forest years ago. If you can bring her home, then we will reward your conviction with the answers you seek."

"A wampus cat..." Ford flipped through a couple of pages, thought back to his first journal, it took a second to remember when he learned about that particular cryptid. It was one he had heard of well before his time in Gravity Falls. "I didn't think there were any this far west."

"This is a rare western wampus," Mary explained.

"Yeah, with two heads and six legs," the clerk added.

"And a snow white pelt."

Ford swiftly scribbled down a rough sketch based on the description and jotted down any extra notes the natives had to give him.

"Do beware, the forest can be a dangerous place."

Ford waved off the warning. "Oh, I'm well aware." He tucked away his journal with a confident smile. "I happen to be a professional cryptozoologist. I assure you, this isn't my first rodeo." An idiom, of course, as despite his college roommate's cajoling, Ford had never actually been to a rodeo.

Mary grinned wide. "Oh, I'm sure. Well, good luck, let us know if you find anything."

"I assure you, ma'am, you will be the first to see it."

˗ˏˋ▽△𓆩👁𓆪△▽ˎˊ˗

⸸

It turned out the western wampus was a bit more of a challenge than Ford had anticipated.

Days turned into weeks. Many sleepless nights were spent testing out lure after lure, combing over night vision camera footage. He tried various traps and tranquilizers. He was nearly mauled by a bear at one point but just managed to scare it off with a very convincing manitaur call. It was the first and perhaps only time those meat heads would ever prove anything but a nuisance.

Ford was nearing his wits' end. He'd switched up his hunting ground four times already. He was sore from falling out of his third tree in two days, smelled of mountain lion urine (long story), and deliriously tired from long night hunts and days spent restocking equipment and removing miscellaneous wildlife from his traps. It was only then, as he was beginning to contemplate giving up the hunt, that he finally spotted it.

The creature matched the natives' description perfectly! This had to be her! Ford rubbed the fatigue from his eyes and, with one clean shot, successfully felled the beast with his tranquilizer dart.

She was a beauty. A fabulous anomaly that Ford couldn't help but sketch in great detail as he admired her sleeping form among the pine needles.

Getting his wampus back to the reservation proved a bit of a challenge. Ford hadn't fully thought through how he would actually do so...

With an ache in his wallet, Ford left a good chunk of excess equipment behind to leave enough space to stuff the unconscious feline into the back seat of his car. She was massive, and it took all the muscle Ford had to heave her up onto the back bench. Thankfully, she slept through having her head dropped twice.

She was fine! Ford checked, and she was fine.

Ford was practically beaming the whole way to the reservation. It was a long drive, a bit longer than he'd anticipated. He needed to administer another dose of sedatives soon. Between the fatigue and the buzz of victory, Ford misjudged the time.

A low grumbling came from the backseat.

"We're almost there, my lovely specimen\~" Ford chirped. He felt around the stack of supplies in the passenger seat for his tranquilizers. "Let's see... I know I put your night-night juice here somewhere-"

Ford was delirious from lack of sleep and perhaps a little giddy from the thrill. All in total, he was rather unprepared for the heavy, clawed paw that shot out from the backseat to wrap around his chest.

Ford let out a startled scream as the beast attempted to drag him back. In gripping the steering wheel for dear life, he jerked it violently to the side and sent the both of them and the car careening off the side of the road and into a ditch. The front of the car slammed into a tree, and the wampus flew up and hit the roof of the car before landing heavily on the back of the driver's seat, squishing Ford against the wheel.

It happened so quickly all Ford had time to do was scream and grunt. Ford winced and coughed as the dust settled. He fixed his scewed glasses and glanced around the net of twisted metal that now encased him. His windshield fogged with a mass of spiderweb cracks. The weight of his catch now heavy on his back. Once Ford had time to process what had happened, all he could do was groan. His head dropped on the steering wheel, and his ear wrung with the extended car horn.

"Fuck...."

˗ˏˋ▽△𓆩⌣𓆪△▽ˎˊ˗

⸸

Suffice to say, by the time he made it back to the reservation, he was exhausted, wounded, down on money, down on time, and down by the second car he'd lost since he moved to Gravity Falls.

He arrived at the reservation headquarters in the back of a truck that mercifully allowed him to hitchhike with a thoroughly unconscious feline and more than a few bruises. The man who gave him a ride offered more than once to take Ford to a hospital, but Ford persistently declined. Hospitals were scammers, and Ford's wounds were superficial anyway. The driver was a resident of the reservation who went inside on Ford's behalf to get someone for him.

"Thank you, sir, your assistance has been greatly appreciated," Ford gushed through labored breaths.

The elderly mustachioed Paiute man nodded slowly and waved a hand down. "Riiiight... You just sit tight, ok? Try not to move around too much."

⸸

Ford raised a thumb in response and sat on the edge of the truck bed. Once the other man's footsteps dissipated, he flopped back and lay beside his pray, the stranger had bound for him and covered with a tarp. Man was a contractor of some kind who had some basic equipment lying around in his truck that proved useful. Ford hadn't felt this tired in a while. He let his hands rest on his chest and felt his breath under his palm. It took a minute for him to notice the wet. Ford raised his hand up to examine it and saw blood. He sat back up and tugged at his sweater vest. There were four long claw marks raked through the various layers of his clothes and exposing shallow cuts in the pale skin underneath.

⸸

"Hm..."

That was probably supposed to hurt more than it did. Ford's head was swimming, a static buzz in his brain seemed to be drowning out the pain, reducing it all to a dull, indiscernible full-body ache. He was going to be feeling it later, that much he knew.

"I don't believe it."

Ford looked up to see Mary and the clerk staring dumbfounded at him and the tarp-covered mass.

"There's no way he actually did it-"

"He told me he was sent on a quest," the old man furrowed his brow at his tribesman. "You two wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" His tone was faintly lecturing.

"Well, I didn't think he'd actually do it!" Mary protested.

"I assure you, miss, I take my research very-" Ford hopped out of the back of the truck only to stagger from a violent wave of vertigo that nearly knocked him off his feet. He righted himself and quickly straightened his posture. "Very seriously," he insisted.

The clerk walked around to the other side of the truck to peek under the tarp.

Ford beamed with pride. "Ah, yes, there she is! Isn't she beautiful?"

The clerk lifted the tarp only to shriek and drop it like hot iron. He jumped back in fright. "What the heck is that!?"

Mary tilted her head in confusion.

Ford gripped the tarp excitedly and tore it away to reveal his prize. "Behold!"

Mary covered her mouth in shock.

Ford looked back at the wampus, a bit regretful that he hadn't brought her home in better shape. She was unconscious but, despite the bruises, no worse for wear than Ford, better actually, considering he hadn't raked sharp jagged claws across her chest. "I'm sorry there were some complications in transit. I assure you she'll be back on her paws in no time with just a bit of TLC-"

Mary burst out into a fit of howling laughter.

Ford paused, the tarp hanging from his limp arms. "I, uhm-"

"You sent this poor idiot hunting mountain lions, Mary!?" the old man barked.

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over Ford's head. The man's words pierced deeper than the creature's claws.

"I thought he was stupid, not crazy!"

More daggers digging deeper into his chest, twisting. Ford could feel himself bleeding. He wrung that tarp in his hands till his knuckles ached from the strain.

"That's wild, man, you're one crazy little dude."

Ford's throat closed up. He glanced back at the cat in the truck. It was only now that his over-tired and overly hopeful mind saw it for what it was.

It was just a mountain lion.

Two faces, sure, and a couple of half-formed limbs stuck out uselessly from her chest, a case of conjoined litter mates. It was obvious now that his steely desperation had melted into boiling shame. It was an albino too, a rare defect for sure, but nothing that couldn't be explained by the current scientific understanding.

"You said..." Ford couldn't take his eyes off the cat. He couldn't look the mocking crowd in the eye.

"There's no such thing as a western wampus cat. We made it up," Mary explained.

Of course.

Ford looked down at his deformed hands. He'd wanted to prove his worth to these people. Why did he want to prove himself to these idiots? These back woods morons? These bullies. Why did he care so much that he failed?

"Well then..." Ford swallowed the lump in his throat and searched his pockets for spare change. "If you could just direct me to the nearest payphone, I need to call a tow service."

Mary's hand landed on Ford's shoulder as he tried to pass her. "Oh, poor boy, come on inside. You wanted an interview, right? It's the least I can do for all your trouble."

Mary's voice was saccharine and sickening. Her touch burned.

Ford shoved her off his shoulder and stared her down.

"The nearest payphone, please," he repeated sternly. His jaw locked. It took all his self-control not to scream.

Mary looked a little guilty for a change and pointed towards the office. "You can use our phone, it's no trouble."

"You should get a shower too, man, you smell like road kill," the young clerk added.

"Give him a break, Jet. Go grab me a first aid kit," the old man called to the clerk.

Ford waved them off dismissively without so much as a glance. "Don't bother, I can take care of myself just fine, thank you."

Ford stomped stiffly to the front desk to use their phone and started plotting his way back home with as little human interaction as possible. He had enough human contact for one day. Obnoxious, useless, rancid beasts, all of them. Once he was home, he'd be done with humans for a good long while.

Ford searched his coat for a list of numbers he kept on hand for emergencies and found the little Pauite dictionary he'd scavenged so hard to find. A growl escaped his throat as he throttled it in his hands. He took the rare historical artifact and ripped it in half along the spine before chucking it in the trash where it belonged.

Coming here was a waste of time. These people were just like everyone else.