#yeah gonna have to go with skimmer on this one

[braidlottie]

christmas in july.

pairing: pool boy!transmasc!reader x milf!shauna shipman

summary: you’ve been cleaning ms. shipman’s pool for quite sometime now, even having a friendship with her. you never would’ve thought what happeneds when you stepped foot into her pool one night.

tags: smut, 18+, nsfw (minors dni), reader has his own pool business, reader has top surgery, shauna is divorced :3, pool sex, clit play, oral sex (shauna receiving), shauna has a christmas tree in the middle of july (you’ll see why), brief smoking (from callie and shauna)

wc: 1.8k

sorry i didn’t know how to end this fic pls Forgive me!!!!

life couldn't be better for you right now. you were out of college for the summer, and your pool business was booming. you always loved this time of year, you got a shit ton of money, and you just loved seeing little kids' faces when their parents tell them the pool’s clean. but there was one house that you absolutely love going to, you never pass up a chance to go there.

mrs. sadecki’s house.

well, ms. shipman’s house. you forgot she recently got a divorce over the spring, just leaving her and her daughter alone in that big, suburban house. you never really knew why they separated, but it was none of your business anyway, though you missed seeing the two together. mr. sadecki was always very kind to you.

parking your van on the curb, you grabbed all your supplies, like your chlorine tablets and your leaf skimmer. you walked up the porch step and rang the doorbell. “coming!” you heard ms. shipman’s voice echoed from outside the house, and it took for her to answer. “oh, honey, i’m so sorry, i just got out of the shower.” she opened the door, in a robe and wet, dripping hair. you told her it was fine, and she let you in. she kept apologizing for leaving you out in the hot sun, and offered you some lemonade outside.

you went out the back door to the pool and got to work, checking the pH levels, changing the pool filter, and even going back to your van for your vacuum to get some debris off the pool floor. your tank top came off while doing so, so you wouldn’t get it wet while vacuuming. you were at it for about thirty minutes before ms. shipman came back to check on you, a pitcher of lemonade in one hand, and two, tall glass cups in the other. she set them down on the patio table and pulled out two chairs. she couldn’t take your eyes of your chest, the water droplets trickling all the wall down to your-

“mrs. sadecki?” your voice brought her out of her trance.

“i’m just about finished, mrs. sadecki. oh- i mean, ms. shipman.” you cursed at yourself for the mistake. “that’s alright, honey, and i told you to start calling me shauna. all that ‘mrs’ stuff makes me feel old.” she poured you a cup of lemonade, passing it to you as you sat down.

“it looks beautiful, callie’s gonna love it,” she smiled, taking a sip of the cold beverage. “i made you a little kit, until next time. put some of this shock in there once every week so you can get rid of the bacteria. and your own little leaf skimmer so you can get all the bugs and leaves out and what not.” you pointed at the supplies next to you.

“thank you, that’s so sweet. oh, how do i keep the possums from getting in?”

“oh yeah, i got you a tarp, just lay it flat right over it at night, and you’re good to go.”

shauna smiled and nodded, ever so grateful for somebody like you, taking care of her pool. the two of you sat and talked for another twenty minutes when you realized it was around that time that you went to get something for lunch. it was almost like shauna didn’t want you to go, so she proposed something you never would’ve thought of. “are you free tonight?”

your eyebrows raised in surprise. “sure, what time?”

“around 7. i wanted you to join me and callie for dinner today. just as a thank you.” shauna got up from her chair, her hands behind her back timidly. “but, i’ve been cleaning your pool for a while now, shauna. i’m just doing my job.” her shyness began to shed off onto you now.

“i know, but i never really formally thanked you. c’mon, please?” shauna couldn’t believe she was begging to her pool boy right now. “well, i’ll be there. thank you, shauna.” she smiled back at your response, watching you grab your things and leave.

***

you came back, just “around 7” like shauna told you too, the sun was setting and shauna’s daughter, callie, was sitting on the porch swing, taking a hit from her vape. she saw you get out and walk up to her.

“sup?”

“sup.” you replied, putting your hand on your hip, your keys jingling in your hand. you’ve had a few interactions with callie before, except they were just awkward smiles and waves.

“your mom know you have that?” you gestured at the pen.

“no. are you gonna tell her?”

“nah, not today.” you smirked. the girl sniggered at that.

there were a few more seconds of silence before she got up to go back in the house. “i can’t believe my mom let the pool boy come to dinner. she must really like you.” she left the door open for you to walk in behind her.

“you’re back! and you changed.” shauna came to greet you, noticing that your swim trunks were different, and you had on a t-shirt with your company name on it. “of course, i did. didn’t want to come to dinner smelling like chlorine.” she chuckled at your joke. “woah. why is your christmas tree still up?” you admired the beautiful red, silver, and green ornaments strung along the branches.

“ever heard of christmas in july?”

“i didn’t even know people celebrated that.” you shrugged and callie scoffed. “that’s my mom, celebrating every holiday known to man. like, how are you from new jersey and you celebrate boxing day?” the younger girl scoffed.

“enough from you, help me set the table.” shauna scolded. you got a kick out of the duo, seeing them bicker back and forth about the most random holidays.

***

the three of you had just finished dinner, callie going up to her own room after saying goodnight. shauna let you stay for a while, sitting by the pool with you. the night air was cold against your legs.

you saw shauna pull out a box of cigarettes from her pocket, with a lighter as well. the lighter clicked a few times before she successfully lit the cigarette. she held out the box to you with a raised brow.

“oh, no, i don’t smoke.” you shook your head and smiled nervously. “ever since i left jeff, i started smoking these. i need to quit it though. i can already feel myself staring to shrivel up.” she scoffed, and you laughed again. looking up at the stars.

the two of you sat in the patio chairs the conversation g when shauna put out her cigarette and stood up. “wanna go for a swim?” she slipped off her cardigan, placing it on the chair. “i really shouldn’t.”

“aww, come on. just this once?” she kicked off her sandals. you twisted your lips in second guessing, shauna giving you a pleading look. “just for a little.” you smirked, and she smiled.

since you were already in your swim trunks, you just took of your shirt, leaving you in a tank top. you thought shauna would do the same, but when you turned around, she was already in the pool.

naked.

you gulped, not even realize how hard you were staring until shauna said something. “don’t be shy, honey.” you stepped down the pool stairs, teeth chattering at the coldness of the water mixed with the night air. you dunked your whole body in, even your head. you stayed under for a while before coming to the surface, wiping the water from your face.

“it feels amazing.” she ran her hands through her wet hair. you stood on the pool floor, trying to adjust your swim trunks, that have been feeling a little too tight ever since you got in. your rock hard nipples poking through your white tanktop. it was shauna’s turn to stare now.

“you okay?”

“yeah, sorry.” you looked up at her again, but your eyes went straight to her breasts. “my eyes are up here, sweetheart.” she spoke seductively. your eyes met hers, and she giggled at your expression. she swam closer, making you back up against the pool wall.

her finger went to your left nipple, twisting and pinching it over your tank. your breathing got heavier and heavier, her brown eyes looking up at yours.

“ms. shipman, we shouldn’t-”

“i know you want this. you’ve always had your eyes on me for too long, even before i divorced jeff.”

“wha- no, what are you talking about?” you sputtered. “i wouldn’t do that to mr. sadecki.”

shauna had a “you sure about that?” look on your face, and you knew she was onto you.

she was onto you the whole time.

she giggled at your reaction, so embarrassed but surprised. “naughty boy.”

her hands were snaking further down to your trunks, fingers still grazing over your nipple. “oh, shit.”

“want me to touch you?”

you nodded and shauna’s hand slipped down your shorts, fingers rubbing your engorged clit in small circles. you moaned, tipping your head back in pure bliss.

“you better be quiet. you don’t want my daughter up there to here, do you?” shauna pointed up at callie’s window, seeing that her bedroom light was still on.

“n-no- fuck- i’m sorry.” you bit your lip, trying to supress another small whine of desperation. “shauna, fuck.”

“such a dirty mouth for a sweet boy like you.” she smirked, applying more pressure to that little bundles of nerves. she knew you were close. and she wanted to make you come hard.

“fuckfuckfuck- i’m gonna cum,” you hips thrusted into shauna’s hand, shying away from her eyes. you groaned, muffling it with the back of your hand.

“that’s it, honey.” she whispered, wiping the trickles of water look from your face. after you catch your breath, your hands go to shauna’s waist, backing her against the pool wall now. she finally kissed you, moaning breathlessly into your mouth. “i wanna taste you.” you said hungrily, making shauna sit on the the edge on the pool for you.

you spit on your hand before rubbing over shauna’s clit, getting a low yet desperate moan from her, inhaling sharply when your tongue swirled against it. “fuck, baby!” she holds your head closer, squeezing it between her thighs. “oh, baby, i’m gonna cum so fucking hard. keep going for me.” her teeth gritted as she cursed.

she gasped, hurling forward and muscles spasming as she came on your tongue. she wiped a tear from her eye, the overwhelming feeling hitting her so hard. she’s never had sex this good. even when she was married to jeff.

“well, that was something else.” she struggled to stand, her legs a little shaky. she walked back to the patio chair, putting her clothes back on her wet body. you also got out as well, just lifting yourself up to sit on the edge.

“i’ll see you next week? y’know, for the pool?”

“uh.. yeah, yes you will.” you sniffed, shauna just smiling at you adoringly. hopefully it’s just for the pool, right?

part of you hoped it wasn’t.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Choose Your Own Bea's Adventure 5

(Previous Part Here)

Your name is Mountain, and you are an ageless, near immortal demon risen from the pit in the unholy form of a ghoul.

You've lived countless lives whilst on the surface.

You've loved and lost more times than you can count.

Once a husband.

Twice a father, perhaps more.

You can't count the ones you don't know about.

A woodcutter.

A killer.

A penitent man.

Right now, though, you're just Mountain.

You live and work on the abbey's grounds as a gardener, while also doing the lord below's bidding by performing rituals across the globe along with your pack during the touring season.

It's the off season now.

You're home.

...And you're worried out of your goddamned mind about your stupid fucking co-worker who lives in the woods.

Okay, it might be mean to call her stupid, but you can't help it if your words have more bite to them as you bound across the field separating you from the wilder parts of the abbey's grounds to rescue her dumb ass.

From the moment you picked up your phone, rattling on your bedside table, left on vibrate, and saw her name pop up on the screen, you knew it couldn't be for a "good" reason.

Any time she calls you, any time she sends more than a brief text or an outline of her schedule for the day, it's because she's done something bad.

Not always bad-bad, but it's usually bad enough to warrant a long, long talk.

And the moment you hear that nervous little titter to her voice, you know something is very wrong.

It's enough to make you sit up in bed, the mattress protesting as you squash down the already worn springs, and then when the line goes dead quiet...

"Shit, shit, shit, shit-"

You're almost to the lake when you see the fast flickering of a light in the distance on the other side and-

"BITCHASS, SNAKE MOTHERFUCKER, I'M GONNA PISS ON EVERYTHING YOU KNOW AND LOVE!"

You'd know that foul mouth anywhere.

"BEA!"

You don't hesitate to make your may around the lake, shouting all the way.

"BEA, STOP!"

"WHAT?!"

"TURN YOUR LIGHT OFF! STOP! TURN IT OFF!"

She looks between you and the large serpent looming over her with the most perturbed expression you've yet to see her make... but she stops.

The serpent shakes its head and blinks, clearing its vision, letting out a huff before coiling in on itself and lowering itself to the ground.

"...Oh thank fuck." you look at the snake, "Are you okay?"

"I'm-" Bea starts, then looks at you offended, "You're talking to the giant fucking snake??"

You pat the snake on the head as it nods, before turning your attention to Bea, who's now scooching further away from the snake and you.

"Are you okay?" you ask, offering your hand to her, but she just just scowls at you, "What?"

"Oh, so you care now?" she spits, trying, and failing, to stand up.

"I came all the way out here to help you and you-"

"Yeah! And you asked the thing that was going to fucking EAT me if it's okay before even checking to see if I was okay!"

"Because Rain is photosensitive in this form!"

"You- THAT'S RAIN?!"

...

Your name is Rain.

You're a snake right now, but normally you're a dude.

You have no idea what's going on right now.

All you remember is that you went to take a nap at the bottom of the lake and woke up to get a snack.

You swallowed a moose whole.

It was rad.

But then you heard someone running around in the woods, and you thought, "Huh, I should see what's happening."

And then you got blinded by the rapid flickering of a flashlight.

And now Mountain is here.

...Having a domestic with a woman you kind of recognize.

Mountain and her are friends(?).

Also she smacked you with a pool skimmer once because you were playing dead in the abbey's pond.

You look between the two.

[jacks-art-dump]

List of quotes on my wall:

Disco Elysium (light blue is intellect, purple is psyche, magenta is physique, yellow is motorics, and black is characters):

I need you. You can keep me on this earth. Be vigilant. I love you.

-Shivers

If an assault were launched on this building right now--if the windows came crashing down and the whole world descended upon you--this man would hurl himself in death's way to save you. You are sure of this--but why?

-Esprit de Corps (upon meeting Kim)

-What this boils down to is this *reality* thing is stupid. Blow this joint, grab a bottle and drain that shit right down your throat.

-Yes, and perform auto-erotic asphyxiation on yourself with your funny neck tie. Out in the open somewhere!

-Electrochemistry & Horrific Necktie

-It was real. I'd seen it. I'd seen it *in reality*.

-Seen *what*?

-The mask of humanity fall from capital. It has to take it off to kill everyone-everything you love, all the hope and tenderness in the world. It has to take it off, just for one second. To do the deed. And then you see it. As it strangles and beats your friends to death...the sweetest, most courageous people in the world. You see the fear and power and its eyes. Then you *know*.

-What?

-That the bourgeois are not human.

-Dros, the Deserter

Dios mio! (draw a cross) A LIBERAL!

-Communist dialog option when meeting Joyce

Communist quotes (red):

At the risk of seeming ridiculous, let me say that the true revolutionary is guided by a great feeling of love. It is impossible to think of a genuine revolutionary lacking this quality.

-Che Guevara

Under no pretext should arms and ammunition be surrendered; any attempt to disarm the workers must be frustrated, by force if necessary. -Karl Marx, 1850

Perseus wore a magic cap so that the monsters he hunted may not see him. We draw the magic cap down over our own eyes and ears so as to deny that there are any monsters. -Marx, Capital, 1867

Unus Annus (Black and white):

-You get a buncha' meat, right?

-Uh huh

-You wanna put it in your body in a...better way! What do you do? You put it in a weird SOCK. Alright? You put it in a weird sock and cook it up on a skrittle, skittle?

-No, no you were right, yeah. Skittle.

-Skrittle? No that's not it, hold on. Griddle? Griddle! No wait, what's the other one? What's the one that starts with an 'S'?

-You're gonna get there, I believe in you.

-Skimmer

-Skuh-Skuh-Ski

-Uhg, this is painful

-Are you serious right now?

-I'm super serious (giggle)

-(Laughter)

-This is really bad

-I'm not gonna help you

-A skih-

-A skrittle

-A skim

-A skeer

-A skib?

-A skibble? No!

-What is it? Tell me

-You can do this

-A skittle!

-You keep going in circles

-A scratch! A scr-

-No this isn't a hint!

-Oh!

-(Mutual laughter)

-A SKITTLE! Wait....

-Ski-?

-Uh-huh

-Skid?

-No

-Skyr, skih-, skirtle

-Oh my god...

-Skrittle!

-NO!

-god... I'm gettin' there!

-You're not!

-What happens when you level up, and you need to put your points into your...

-Skill tree!

-Skill turtl.?

-Skill....

-You CAN'T be for real right now!

-I'm one hundred percent!...Oh my god! A hundred...

-Skill tree

-Skill...

-SKILLET!

-YES!

-Oh my god.....

-There you go.

-Oh my god. That wasn't a joke. God damnit! Let's go.

-Alright!

-Jesus christ

-Unus and Annus, 2019

Cut once, measure nonce

-Unus

Music Lyrics (green):

You can choose a ready guide/

In some celestial voice/

If you choose not to decide/

You still have made a choice/

You can choose from phantom fears/

And kindness that can kill/

I will choose a path that’s clear/

I will choose free will.

-Rush, Permenant Waves, "Freewill"

All the world's indeed a stage/

We are merely players/

Performers and portrayers/

Each another's audience outside the gilded cage.

-Rush, Moving Pictures, "Limelight"

I looked in the eyes of the Indian/

That lay on the federal building steps/

And through the rangefinder over the hill/

I saw the frontline boys popping their pills/

Sick of the mess they find/

On their desert stage/

And the bravery of being out of range/

Yeah the question is vexed/

Old man what the hell you gonna kill next/

Old timer who you gonna kill next.

-Roger Waters, Amused to Death, "The Bravery of Being Out of Range"

Misc (color in parenthesis):

-Can you give us some of your political beliefs?

-Kill everyone now! Condone first degree murder! Advocate cannibalism! Eat shit! Filth are my politics, filth is my life!

-Divine, 1972, "Pink Flamingos" (red)

[baseballbitch116]

Dixons Next Door - Chapter 4

Introduction: Anna was a small town girl from Atlanta when she became the guardian of her two younger siblings. She was determined to keep them from the same abuse that she endured from her family, so she moved into a small beaten up house just outside the city in 2009. The new neighbors  next door - the Dixon brothers - were definitely trouble. She wanted to escape her past, not repeat her parents history with these redneck brothers. Matters only escalate when the news is talking about the possibility of some virus getting out and infecting people… Are Merle and Daryl just as bad as her past? How is she going to keep her brother and sister safe from this virus getting out? What did Anna get herself into?

Setting: Pre-apocalypse

Word Count: 6896

Series Warnings: Offensive language, mentions/suggestion of physical abuse, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, sexual themes, violence & death

Chapter Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drug use, offensive language, assault, violence, sensitive themes - potential trigger warning

A/N: I got a little carried away and made this an extra long chapter, but it’s a good one! There are some sensitive topics in it so this is a trigger warning - it’s nothing too bad but some people may not want to read it. 18+ You’ve been warned.

Previous Chapter

Masterlist | Fandoms | Submit A Request

I had been cleaning out the pool for the kids while they ate lunch the next time that I was interrupted by Merle. He came over with a beer and hand and stood nearby me, watching silently. I gave him a look but he made no comment, he just sipped on his beer. I sighed and continued skimming the bugs and leaves out of the pool. “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” I ask without looking back at him. He chuckles.

“Why ya cleanin it? Just gonna get dirty again?” He asks, ignoring your question. You roll your eyes and smack the skimmer on the ground to get the debris off of it.

“Why shower - just gonna get dirty again.” I remark sarcastically.

“Exactly.” Merle agrees, and I look up in momentary shock before catching the sarcastic smirk on his face. “Ew,” I mutter, tossing the skimmer to the side and throwing the chlorine in the pool.

“So what bar ya work at?” He asks, glancing into the pool for a moment before looking back at you. You want to lie, but there’s literally only two bars in this small town, so it’s not like it matters much.

“Happy Hour Tavern.” I respond, wiping my hands off on my shorts and crossing my arms. “Surprised I haven’t seen ya there yet.” Referring to the beer in his hand at two in the afternoon.

He smirks. “Ya wanna see me there?” He suggests, and I roll my eyes.

“Didn’t say that.”

“Don’t ya worry, sugar. I’ll stop by.” He assures me, and I know he probably will.

“Great,” I mutter, and he chuckles.

“Where ya kids at?” He asks.

“Inside eating.”

“Wanna make me somethin to eat, sugarlips?” He asks flirtatiously. I roll my eyes again and huff.

“My name is Anna, and no, I don’t really have the money to be feeding the neighborhood.” I respond.

“Ain’t the neighborhood, doll. Just a friend.” He winks.

“Oh, so we’re friends?” I ask, shifting my weight.

“Yeah sure. Ya seem to be cozying up to my brother and all, ‘course we’re friends.” He responds sarcastically. The grin is gone from his face and he seems more serious now.

“What?” I ask, baffled by what he means by ‘cozying up to his brother.’

“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. I saw ya the other day. Got him doing shit for ya, too. Impressive.” He rolls his eyes and takes a large gulp of his beer. Suddenly, the mood shifts, and I feel uncomfortable. Is he angry at me for asking Daryl for help? He is so hard to read, everything was just fine - what happened?

“I needed help lifting a heavy ass box. He was there. Doesn’t mean I’m ‘cozying up to anyone.’” I respond sternly. I don’t like being accused of using people. Merle chuckles.

“Relax, darlin, I ain’t jealous.” He taunts, lifting a hand to shield his eyes and looking up at the sky. “Issa good huntin day, bet he’s goin out there soon. I’ll see ya around, sugarlips.” Merle says as he begins walking away from me, leaving me confused and startled. What the hell just happened?

I began getting texts from my father that same day. I wasn’t entirely surprised, but I knew he wouldn’t go to the cops.

1:04 - Bring back my fuckin kids

1:15 - U ungrateful bitch after all i done 4 u

2:06 - Ima have every1 lookin 4 u

2:10 - U best not let me find u

3:34 - Ima tell the pigs u kidnapped em

4:08 - Just wait til i find u

My brother even texted me a few times, too.

12:30 - Pa’s lookin 4 u. He’s mad

1:10 - U took them? Ur not they momma, u kidnapped em

2:30 - U best bring em back or u’ll regret it Anna

The texts continued on and off throughout the day but I ignored them. My prejudice, abusive family would not get the best of me. He was probably drunk and went to find us to pick a fight and finally noticed we were gone. I couldn’t help but worry about if he ever did manage to find us. We were only a half hour away, it wouldn’t be too hard. It was only a matter of how much he was determined to do so. He’s not a smart man, I doubt he could track us down very easily. Plus, everyone who knew him, hated him. No one who knew us would help him - they would know the kids were safer with me. I’d rather be poor than abused.

Eventually I left my phone on silent and tried to keep my thoughts occupied. I didn’t tell the kids, of course. The kids had been playing in their room for most of the day, having fun with the large box that my bed frame had come in, using it as some sort of rocket or something. So I let them be inside and sat on the front steps to think in peace. I looked up at the sky and willed myself not to cry. They did not deserve my tears. They didn’t even deserve a moment’s thought. I forced myself not to think about all that they had put me through in my childhood. The nights I spent crying myself to sleep on my mattress on the floor. The bruises and scars I hid at school. The lies I told to keep myself from being taken away - only so I could protect my siblings.

My eyes burned as I fought back the tears and I hid my face in my hands on my lap.

“C’mon, Anna. It’s over now.” I mutter to myself, trying to believe my own words. Anger boiled over inside of me at the thought of what my father might do if he found us and took the kids back. I would not let him. Even if it killed me - he would not ruin their lives like he did mine.

A crash of thunder made me jump, bringing me back to the present. I looked up just in time to see Merle approaching from the woods, resheathing a knife on his hip. I figured he was hunting, and that gave me an idea.

“Hey, Merle!” I call out, quickly wiping my face and jumping up to head over to him. He looks pleasantly surprised and stopped in his tracks, smirking as I approached him. “I have a question.”

“Whatcha want, sugar?” He drawls, wiping his hand on a rag from his pocket. I notice a bit of blood and then the bag over his shoulder, making me wince. I didn’t wanna know.

“I wanna get a gun. But I don’t know the first thing about them, and I kinda hoped you did?” I inform him, glancing behind me to make sure the kids hadn’t come out. He chuckles quietly and looks me up and down.

“Whatcha want with a gun?” He asks. I resist getting defensive, sure that he thinks a woman can’t handle one.

“To protect myself. Family problems, let’s leave it at that.” I inform him with a look. “Do you think you could help me?” I plead. I didn’t wanna go into town and get scammed into buying a crappy, overpriced gun. Merle looks at me for a long moment, looking up at the darkening sky before shrugging.

“Come with me.” He responds, nodding toward his house. I look at it then back to him, giving him a sharp look. “I’m serious, ya want me help or not?” He demands. I look back toward my house for a moment before sighing.

“I can’t be long.” I tell him, and he smirks, heading toward his porch. I hesitantly follow behind him, dreading entering his place. Considering the trash and overgrown grass outside, I had a feeling the inside was much worse. I stepped inside the house cautiously, keeping my eye on Merle as I did so. He seemed to be the only one here, which relieved me. If any of those men from the other night were, I would have left. Merle tosses the bag from his shoulder onto an old wooden table and heads down the hall toward a bedroom, leaving me alone. The floor is dirty, there’s an old, stained armed chair in front of a box TV, and there’s stuff scattered everywhere. The place smells a little weird too, but I resist complaining. Merle returns a moment later with a case in hand. “Here,” Merle opens the case and reveals a gun, holding it out to me. It’s a handgun, I know that much. I look up at him and he gives me an impatient look, so I hesitantly grab the gun. It’s heavier than it looks, and I make sure to keep my finger off the trigger. “Ya ever shot one?” He asks, smirking at me.

“Once or twice.” I mumble, having flashbacks to the one time my father tried teaching me how to shoot bottles in the backyard. It wasn’t a fond memory at all���

“Ya can have it, but it’ll cost ya.” He winks.

“How much?” I ask, and he chuckles.

“Ion want ya money,” He drawls, and I immediately frown, thinking I know what he is implying.

“I’m not doing that either,” I scowl, going to hand the gun back to him. He doesn’t take it, chuckling some more.

“Whatcha want a gun for anyway?” He asks. I didn’t want to get into it, but maybe this would be a way around having to do something for him for it. I let out a sigh and looked at the weapon in my hand for a long moment.

“My father,” I start, not meeting his eye. “He’s uh, well he’s a piece of shit basically. I took the kids from him in the middle of the night and got this place, never told anyone where we were going. If he comes around… Well, I’m gonna need this.” I finally look up and meet his eye, exhaling deeply. He looks at me for a long moment, his face expressionless. It’s quiet and I am surprised he doesn’t make any rude or sarcastic comments. He shrugs, placing the case down on the old table.

“Keep it.” He tells me, and I raise my brows at him.

“Really?” I clarify, confused why he changed his mind.

“Ya need it more than I do. Got plenty round here.” He mutters, waving his arm up in no general direction. “I know all about piece of shit fathers.” He continues, giving me a solemn look. “My pops was. You was right, yer gonna need that. So take it, before I change my mind.” He drawls, heading over to their fridge and grabbing a bottle of beer, kicking it shut behind him. I don’t argue, despite being shocked and confused.

“Thank you, Merle.” I give him a sincere smile for the first time, and turn the gun over in my hands to ensure the safety is on.

“Takes 9MM. It’s loaded.” He informs me, plopping into the beaten up chair by the TV and opening his beer, taking a large gulp. I nod slowly and shift my weight, feeling awkward holding the gun but trying not to let him know.

“Okay,” I respond, turning to head out the door as he turns the TV on. “Thanks again.” I holler before I head out the door into the humid air. The sky has gotten very dark with storm clouds and the wind picked up, so I jog across the lawn back to my house and tuck the gun into the back of my shorts, hiding it under my shirt before I walk inside. I don’t need the kids seeing this.

“Anna! Look what we did!” Colton calls out from the hallway with a big grin on his face. I smile back at him and walk down the hall to their room, letting out a dramatic gasp when I see the box colored on with a bunch of random colors. “It’s our rocket!” He exclaims excitedly, rejoining his sister inside the big box.

“Wow! It looks so good guys!” I exclaim, grinning as they go back to their playing. I watch them for a moment before remembering the gun and walking into my own room, placing the gun on the top shelf in the closet. This will have to do until I have more furniture and somewhere safe to keep it.

The texts kept coming throughout the rest of the night.

6:05 - ware tf r my kids

6:43 - dont make me hunt u down girl

7:16 - uv always been a cunt this is just like u

8:11 - wat r u gonna do when u get nocked up by some prick u dont have money 4 all dem kids

The string of insults and threats lasted most of the night, the only reason I kept looking at them was to make sure that they hadn’t found us somehow, or had any ideas. I would need a head start if they did. I’m not sure if I would be able to shoot my brother, but I know I could shoot my dad. He deserved it. After all he did to me, all he put us through. Even my dead beat mother didn’t deserve him. He was half the reason she’s as bad as she is. Apparently, my mother hadn’t started using drugs until after I was born. My father had escalated when he had his first daughter, and his true colors began to shine through. My mom used in order to live with herself, the guilt, his abuse. She even made sure to get clean each time she learned she was pregnant, but she always relapsed. She was a strong woman - I had to give her that. If nothing else, she was strong. But still a horrible mother. She should have taken us with her when she left.

But now it was my responsibility. I had to do what she couldn’t. I couldn’t help but think about my parents, my horrible family - as I stood in the doorway, watching them sleep. I may not be able to change what happened to me, but I would do anything it took to prevent it from happening to Bailey and Colton. If it comes down to it, I will kill my own father to ensure he never lays another hand on them.

Watching them sleep peacefully, side by side in their own brand new bed with clean sheets and a safe roof over their head - that made it all worth it.

Jessie and Beau came over at nine with beers and I set up a fire in the front yard. I had found this old firepit someone was throwing away on the side of the road the other night and I took it of course. I was excited for some relaxing adult time before my shift tonight. I hated my job, but I made good money there so far.

“What time you work tonight?” Jessie asks as she pops open a bottle of beer and hands it to me with a grin on her face.

“Eleven to three. At least it’ll go by fast.” I respond, taking a gulp. The alcohol burns as it goes down my throat and I let out a sigh, leaning back into the stairs. I hadn’t gotten around to getting chairs for the yard yet - an unnecessary expense I couldn’t afford just yet. Jessie sat beside me, a lemonade in hand instead of beer, given that she was pregnant, and Beau sat on the hood of his truck, rolling a joint. I always enjoyed nights like this - quiet, relaxing, worry free. Jessie had been the best friend I’d ever had, I’m glad we’re still so close.

“That man ever come back?” She asks, referring to a customer from a few nights ago. He had gotten too drunk and handsy, trying to get me to give him my number. He even waited until the bar closed for me and the manager had to call the cops to get him to leave so I could go home. That was the latest reason I hated my job that I’d only had for a few weeks.

“No. Hopefully he never comes back, I don’t wanna have to use what Merle gave me earlier on him.” I mutter, glancing behind me to make sure the kids hadn’t woken up.

“The neighbor?” Beau asks. I nod.

“What did he give you? Are yous like, talking now?” Jessie asks, leaning on her knees and giving me a worried look.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I wanted to look into getting… a gun, for protection. From Dad.” I explain in a quieter tone. “I figured someone like him would know a place, and he actually ended up giving me a handgun.” I continue, watching Jessie’s disapproving look and wide eyes. “I’ll be safe. I really need it. If Dad finds out where we are…” I trail off, taking a large sip of my beer and letting a huff out.

“Why’d he just give you a gun for free?” Beau asks, looking up from where he was rolling the joint on the hood.

“I dunno. At first he said it was gonna cost me, but then when I mentioned it was because of Dad, he let me just have it. Said he knew all about asshole fathers.” I shrugged. “Either way, works for me.”

“Just don’t let him use that against you. Who knows what he might try to pull, he reminds me of Mack.” Jessie rolls her eyes when she mentions my older brother, grimacing. She hates me as much as I do. He had tried to get with her a million times and it made him resentful, yelling and cursing at her. Which then resulted in Beau beating the shit out of him - which was a sight for sore eyes.

“Yeah, he’s a bit better than him though. From what I’ve seen, at least.” I shrug, taking another swig of my beer. “Dad’s been texting me most of the day, he texted me earlier too. The bullshit you’d expect - pretending to care I took the kids, threatening me.” I explain, handing my phone to Jessie to see the string of unanswered texts.

“I hate them,” She grumbles as she scrolls through the texts. “They won’t find you, don’t worry. They’re too stupid to figure it out.” I chuckle at her comment.

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” I giggle. Beau stands up and offers me the blunt, which I accept and take a long hit from. As I am doing so, I hear a man start laughing and sure enough, Merle and Daryl are standing at the bottom of their porch. I exhale the large puff of smoke and hand the blunt back to Beau, leaning on my knees and resisting the urge to cough.

“Damn girl, who knew ya could have a little fun!” Merle exclaims, walking across the lawn toward us. Daryl and I make eye contact for a short moment before he rolls his eyes and leans against the beat up railing, placing his crossbow on the porch stairs, seemingly waiting for his brother. I roll my eyes with a smirk at Merle’s comment. Ever since earlier, I’ve decided to cut him a little slack. If I was interpreting right, we had more in common than I thought - at least, regarding families.

“Yeah, sometimes.” I respond, offering my beer bottle to him, earning a surprised look from Jessie. I was trying to be nice to Merle to repay him for the gun, so he wouldn’t come collecting in another way. It was the least I could do for a free handgun and clip. Merle looks shocked for a short moment but smirks and takes the bottle from my hand, taking a large swig.

“Yous her family?” Merle asks, looking at Jessie. She hesitates for a moment before shaking her head.

“Friends.” She responds, readjusting her feet uncomfortably. I stand up and suddenly I’m aware of just how close Merle was to me. I am almost touching him as he leans against my railing, my bottle in his large hands, a smirk plastered across his face. He looks fairly attractive in the fire light and his seemingly clean-ish clothes. He’s wearing black cargo pants and a white T-shirt under a jacket, and I take notice of the knife holstered on his hip. “Going hunting?” I ask, taking a step away from him toward the fire and tossing another log in.

“Mhm,” He responds, taking another sip of my beer. “Wanna come with, sweetheart? Can show ya the ways.” He suggests flirtatiously.

“I actually know how to,” I smirk, stepping closer to him and grabbing the beer from his hand, taking a large sip while looking into his eyes. The alcohol and hit were starting to get to me - I was a bit of a lightweight nowadays, since I’ve lost weight and had less time to do this kind of stuff. Merle bites his bottom lip and holds the intense eye contact with me, taking the beer back when I hand it to him and I can feel his eyes on me as I retake my seat beside Jessie.

“Yer loss.” He shrugs, pretending to be indifferent.

“C’mon man!” Daryl shouts from their side of the lawn impatiently. I wish that he would come join us too - I wanna get to know him better.

“Ugh I’m comin! Get yer panties outta a bunch!” He shouts over his shoulder. Merle hands the beer back to me after one last gulp and heads off to rejoin Daryl, walking away into the dark woods.

“What was that all about?” Jessie demands when they are out of earsight. I shrug and set the beer down, not wanting to get anymore intoxicated, given that I still have work later.

“I dunno, gotta be nice. I kinda owe him.” I mumble, kicking at dirt. Truth be told, I found those brothers interesting. Mysterious and dangerous, but alluring. Yes, they were trouble, but I always ended up attracting trouble anyway.

“You better be careful.” Jessie warns me, and I nod.

The night went on peacefully and we all enjoyed talking over the fire and relaxing with the kids asleep. I left for work and Jessie stayed at my place while Beau went out with his friends after dropping me off. He was gonna pick me up after work too, since he was gonna be in the same general area.

My shift was going fine until about one, when I recognized a familiar face and my whole night went sour. The creepy man from the other night was back, and he had his eyes on me. He was with another man at a table instead of the bar, but he was very obviously watching me. I informed the manager on duty but it wasn’t the same man from the other night, so he didn’t know the extent of how creepy the man was. He only came up to the bar once, having his buddy order drinks while he watched me. I remained calm and didn’t even glance at him, handing the drinks to his friend and accepting the two dollar tip without a word.

It took about a half an hour to finish cleaning up after everyone was out of the bar and I was dreading heading outside. I had a feeling that the man would be waiting for me again, but the manager didn’t want me wasting hours and had to stay behind to finish up, so I had to go out alone. I hung up my apron at the door and sighed as I locked up behind myself, leaving the manager alone in the building to finish recounting the drawers. I had already stuffed my tip money into my purse and had my keys tucked between my fingers as I looked around cautiously for a sign of anyone. There were still people out, despite being a bit past three in the morning. Beau hadn’t answered my texts in the last half hour and Jessie was asleep, so I had to wait. Great. Across the street, I spotted a nice looking motorcycle across the street, but that was the only vehicle besides far down the road.

I started walking toward the street light by the corner to wait for Beau when I heard a male voice call out. “Hey! Bitch!” I grasped my keys tighter in my hand and turned my head, spotting the man and his buddy down the alleyway. They stood up from leaning on the wall and started heading my way, so I started walking faster, but then they started running.

“Help!” I hollered and started running across the street. The adrenaline kicked in in my body as fear took over and I ran as fast as I could down the opposite side of the street. They were close behind me and I tried to hop over a fence, but they caught up and threw me onto the ground before I could get all the way over. “Help! Please!” I screamed as loud as I could, trying to kick the men away from me. The main guy sat on top of my hip and shoved a hand over my mouth, smirking evilly down at me as his buddy started trying to lift me. I kicked and flailed as hard as I could but I couldn’t get away as they drug me across the ground into a back alley.

“Hey!” I heard a different male voice holler and then there was the sound of glass breaking. The main man let go of his hand over my mouth to look behind him and I took that opportunity to scream as loud as my lungs would let me, before the second guy punched me in the face. I swore I saw stars as my face throbbed, the two still pinning me, my head propped against the second guy’s chest where he held a knife to my throat.

“Get off her. Now.” A deep male voice demands. I can’t see with the main guy on top of me but I am grateful for whoever it is coming to my rescue. The men only chuckle evilly but then something happens and the second guy jumps away from me quickly, making me slam my head down on the concrete. I groan and my vision goes blurry with tears as the stinging in my head intensifies. “Help…” I mutter as I fight to stay conscious, my head throbbing. The cold, rocky concrete is painful against my cheek, but not as bad as the weight of the man or the stinging in my head.

I can finally see around the main guy and spot a man a few yards away, aiming something in our direction. It’s hard to see with my blurred vision and the darkness, but it looks like a weird sideways weapon. “Ay, man. Chill out. We was just having some fun, that’s all.” The second guy insists, holding his hands up a little. I try to wiggle away but the man on top of me grabs onto my throat and holds a knife toward me.

“Think I won’t? Get the hell outta here or I’ll kill her right here, right now.” The man growls. I stare at the sharp tip of the knife in my face, fearing this is where my life will end. What will happen to Bailey and Colton without me?

The next moment is a huge blur. One second, there is a knife in my face, and the next, the man falls off of me, screaming in pain on the ground beside me. I jump up off the ground as fast as I can and stumble away from them, running blindly in the direction of where I had seen the shadowy figure of the other man. I stumble and trip in the combination of darkness and the pain throughout my body, reaching out to the brick wall to catch myself from falling but someone else catches me and I start flailing and trying to get away, until I look up.

It’s Merle. He hoists me up from where I was half fallen on the ground onto my feet and puts a hand around my waist to keep me up against him. His face is serious and it’s the first time he hasn’t cracked any jokes to me. I’ve never been more relieved to see someone in my life. I reach up and hold onto his neck, trying to keep my balance. The man continues screaming and cursing and I look back, spotting Daryl holding up a crossbow. “Oh shit! Fuck!” The second man screams, running away and leaving his friend behind with an arrow in his ass. Daryl walks over to him and takes his knife, pressing a foot on the man’s back and yanking the arrow out from his asscheek. I turn and hide my face in Merle’s shirt, disgusted and terrified. The screaming continues and then I hear a second scream and a trash can get knocked over. When I look back again, the other man is laying on the ground toward the back of the alley, an arrow in his leg.

Daryl stalks over to him and rips the arrow from his leg as well, kicking the man in the face before heading back toward the first man. “Ya ever, ever - come back here again… I’ll kill ya.” Daryl growls at the main guy who had been stalking me. Daryl rejoins us and puts a hand on my back hesitantly, looking down at me. I’d never been this close to either of the brothers and yet, somehow, I felt safer now.

“T-thank you.” I mumble into Merle’s chest, holding onto him tight, too afraid to let go. Tears stained into his shirt but I couldn’t bring myself to care - I was shaking and biting back crying.

“C’mon,” Merle mumbles, grasping onto my tight and trying to turn me around. I held onto him tight and let them lead me away, not paying attention. I saw Daryl grab my purse and keys in the corner of my eye and noticed Merle was leading me to a motorcycle. “You take her back, little brother. I’ll meet ya there after I finish up here.” Merle lets go of me and I feel like I’m going to fall over from the pounding in my head, but Daryl grabs onto me before I can fall completely over.

“Damn,” Daryl mutters, grabbing me tight and I notice that we are face to face. He’s got me by my waist and my hands grasp onto his shirt collar. “Sorry…” I mumble, blinking away fresh tears. He doesn’t respond but he helps me onto the back of the motorcycle. “Hold onto this.” He takes my hand and places it on these handlebar things, and I do. I do my best to stay up straight while he attaches my purse and his crossbow onto the back of the motorcycle and then sits in front of me. I whip my head toward the alley when I hear more screaming, but Daryl starts the engine and revs the bike. “Hold onto me. Tight.” Daryl hollers over his shoulder, and I do so without hesitation. I wrap my arms tightly around his waist and lean my head against his shoulder, terrified to fall off. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before - if I had been in a normal state of mind, I would have objected. But at this point, I wanted to get home as fast as possible.

The motorcycle is fast and the wind blows past us. I keep my eyes closed and focus on holding onto Daryl, feeling lightheaded and scared of falling off. It’s a short ride and he has to help me off of the bike. Holding onto his rough hand made me feel anxious and insecure but I had to in order to keep upright. He led me inside his house, and I did not object, as I did not want the kids to see me or for me to wake them up. He leads me over to a beaten up couch and I hesitantly sit down, looking around cautiously. I didn’t know if anyone else was here, but it seemed we were alone. I held onto my own arms tightly and tried to focus on my breathing. “I should uh, check ya out.” Daryl mumbles, crouching down in front of me. He waits for me to respond in some way, so I nod and uncross my arms. He runs a hand up my bare leg and I force myself not to flinch. I’m not afraid of Daryl, but tonight’s events have me shaken up. “Stand up,” He says, offering me his hand to help me get up. He lifts up my shirt a little and I flinch when he touches my back. “Yer pretty scratched up.” He comments, removing his hand from my back. “Should put somethin on that, so it don’t get infected.” He stands up when I sit back down and walks away, presumably to grab something. I hold onto my head and wince in pain where there is a large bump already forming.

Daryl returns with a few items in hand. He gives me a package of peas and shrugs, not meeting my eye. “Don’t have ice packs.” He mumbles, kneeling in front of me. “Turn around.” He tells me, and I move so that he can get to my back, placing the ice on my head. He starts applying something cold to my back and I sit as still as I can, wincing at the pain from where I was drug across the concrete. “Yer shirt’s all torn.” He notes when he pulls it back down. “Lemme see yer head.” I remove the ice and he gently runs his fingers through my hair, eventually finding the lump and I jump in pain, tearing up. “Sorry,” He mutters. “How do you feel? Ya might have a concussion.” He says, and I groan.

“I can’t afford to have a concussion.” I mumble and lean back into the sofa, holding the ice against my head once more. Daryl places a gentle hand on my cheek, below my eye, where I was punched. I look into his eyes as he gently rubs his rough thumb over what is surely a black eye. “M’sorry this happened to ya.” He mutters, looking away.

“Thank you for saving me.” I respond quietly.

“Wish I’d been there sooner.” He grumbles, standing up and removing his vest, tossing it onto the seat. He is wearing a black button down shirt and black jeans, his hair is matted against his forehead - but he looks very attractive. I look down at my bare knees that are now scratched up and feel my eyes burning again.

“What were you doing there, anyway?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Merle wanted a drink. Said ya worked there, wanted to bother ya I’m sure.” I let out a small chuckle and he continues. “We were leavin to head back, but we heard ya yellin.” I nod and look down again, trying not to think about it. I should be used to this sort of thing by now, given what I went through as a child.

Before either of us can say anything more, the door opens and Merle steps in, wiping his hands off on a rag. I notice the faint red marks on his knuckles and wonder what he had been doing, but try not to think of that either. Whatever he did, I didn’t care. Those men deserved it.

“She good?” Merle asks his brother, looking over at me huddled on their sofa. Daryl nods and explains my injuries briefly to Merle, who huffs. “Lucky we were there, sugar.” He comments. I don’t respond, hugging myself and shivering a little. Daryl notices but Merle heads to the bathroom, probably to clean up. Daryl walks away but returns shortly with a shirt and sweatpants. “Here. Ya can change in my room.” He mutters, handing the clothes to me. I am shocked but I accept and stand up slowly, following him back to his room. He shuts the door behind himself and I stand there for a moment, surprised to be in his room. He’s a lot sweeter than he likes to come off, it seems. It’s a very standard room. Pretty messy, no decorations, basic sheets on the bed, old paint. He clearly doesn’t care much for the room, it seems like he probably only uses it to sleep. It’s not “homey.” I remove my now ruined shirt and skirt and throw the large T-shirt on and tie the sweatpants on tight so they will fit me. The shirt is baggy and I notice it smells like Daryl. I hadn’t known what he smelled like before today but now I recognize it. It kinda smells like the outdoors, like firewood or something. It’s a nice scent, though, and I find it comforting.

I open the door with my old clothes in hand and spot Daryl waiting down the hall, leant up against the wall. Merle comes out of the bathroom at the same time and we make awkward eye contact. “Look like a Darylina.” He comments with a chuckle, walking past me toward the kitchen. Daryl looks at me for a long moment, until I meet his eye, and then he drops his gaze to the floor. I slowly approach him and give him a forced, appreciative smile. “Thank you.” I tell him gratefully. He has been so kind to me tonight. Before today, I hadn’t barely spoken to him before and he was always standoffish and seemed to avoid talking to me. It was a weird change, but welcomed. If only the circumstances it occurred under were different…

“Want me to throw em away?” He asks, referring to my clothes in hand. I shrug and hand them to him. He tosses them into a trash can and Merle walks over to the chair by the TV, popping open and beer and kicking his feet up. He seemed so nonchalant about the whole situation, it was weird. “Oh shit,” I mutter, realizing Beau is probably worried, waiting for me. “Do you have my phone?” I ask Daryl.

“That’s what yer worried bout?” Merle speaks up.

“No, I had been waiting for my ride. He’s probably worried.” I explain, looking to Daryl, hoping he had grabbed it. Silently, he pulls my phone from his pocket and hands it to me. “Thank you.” I unlock it and find a million missed calls from both Beau and Jessie. He must have woken her up when I never showed up. “Shit.” I grumble. I hated worrying them, after all they do for me.

“Yer boyfriend?” Merle asks, gulping down some of his beer.

“No, my friend’s boyfriend.” I respond as I text both of them in a group message that I was okay and that I would explain.

“Why would yer friend’s man be pickin ya up at three in the mornin?” Merle asks with a wink.

“Ew, no. I’m not like that. He’s a good friend, she’s watching the kids for me at my house right now. I gotta go let them know I’m okay…” I trail off, then remember I’m in Daryl’s clothes. “Uh, I can go change and bring these back-” I start, but he shakes his head.

“Keep em.” He insists, and I feel bad, but don’t fight back. “Ya might have a concussion, so ya should have someone check up on ya when ya sleep tonight, and get it checked.” He explains.

“Doctor Daryl.” Merle jokes sarcastically, and his brother shoots him an evil eye.

“Thank you guys for helping me. I don’t know how I can repay you…” I trail off, refusing to think about the course of the night again.

“Don’t worry bout it, darlin.” Merle smirks.

“Couldn’t just leave ya there.” Daryl mutters awkwardly, shuffling his feet.

“Well, still. Thank you.” I repeat before heading toward the door. Daryl follows behind me, handing me my purse and keys, and I wave before walking out and heading back to my house slowly, careful not to trip. I look back and notice he is watching me and I feel my cheeks heat up, fumbling to get my key out and open my door. I notice Beau’s truck is here and when I open the door, the two of them are sitting on the sofa, waiting for me.

Jessie and Beau were furious when I told them what happened and I ended up crying on her shoulder, letting the emotions from the night settle in. Beau threatened to go back out looking for them but I told him what I suspected Merle did and he didn’t. Jessie helped me get cleaned up and settled into bed. She slept next to me in my bed that night and woke me up every two hours, in case I had a concussion. Beau slept on the couch and I had never felt more appreciative for anyone more than I did for them and Daryl in that very moment...

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[noisyquokka]

nO BUT Y'ALL DON'T GET IT, I can't even go to Walmart without some lady yelling to her husband about a fUcKing griddle and thinking about- 💀💀

"Listen to this though. You got a bunch of meat, right? You want to put it in your body in a better way! What do you do? You put it in a

👌🏻 weird sock 🧦

all right. You put it in a weird sock, you cook it up on a sKrItTle... ssskittle? (no, you were right, skrittle, yeah) skrittle, skrs... Hold on, that's not it... Griddle (keep goin') griddle...

Wait what's the ot- what's the one that starts with an S?

(you're gonna get there, I believe in you.)

Skimmer... a skis-skee-skiis- (wow, this is painful 😅 are you serious right now?) I'm super serious 😂 this is really bad (I'm not gonna help ya)

A skid- a ski- a skrittle... a skir-

a skibble?

NO!

What is it? Tell me.

(you can do this.) 👈🏻

A skittle (you keep going in circles, you gotta-) A skitter 🙂 a scratch...

(no, this isn't a hint!) oh 🤣 (this is not a hint!)

Skittle 😀

wait... 🙂

nO 🙇🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️

Skiii? (uhuh) skid?! (noo...) skir-skirtle (oh-oh my god!)

Skrittle (...NO!) I'm getting there. (you're nOt!)

(what happens when you level up and you have to put your points into your...)

skill tree.

(👐🏻)

✨ skilltirll ✨

(🙉 you can't be for real right now...)

I'm a 👌🏻 hundred 👌🏻 percent 😂 oHo my god!! Ohbdu- oh my god!

SkilltreEhEhehee 😂😭 (😀...)

(😶🙏🏻)

👀 skill- SKILLET! 🍳"

[pan-xichen]

MDZS characters as unus annus quotes I think about a lot part 1:

JGY: I murdered three people. On a Thursday night, it was cold. It was partly cloudy but the moon was still peeking through. Just enough light to see but not enough to see me approach. I snuck up behind them, knife in hand, blood pumping in my ears-

NMJ: Okay, this is a... hypothetical scenario-

JGY: This- yeah this is hypothetical. What, you think I did this?

NMJ: No but I'm saying that you don't need to explain it in such vivid detail, because why would you?

JGY: Why would I?

NMJ: Also why would you know the vivid details of what you did-

JGY: I have a vivid imagination.

--

WWX: No one will ever find you...

NHS: What do you mean?

WWX: If you're too deep into the sea... The Gongoozler... will- heeeeeeeh- swim up to you... take you by the toes... and bring you down, down, down, into the frothy depths...

NHS: For fucks sake-

WWX: THE GONGOOZLER!!

--

NMJ: Okay, so when I- when I go for a nail- not- remember I did this for two years, so- AAAAH HELP HELP DON'T JUST LOOK!

NMJ: So- *confidently stabs the head of the nail into wood instead of the point*

NMJ and LXC: *hysterical laughter*

--

NHS: You put it in a weird sock, alright? You put it in a weird sock, you cook it up on a skrittle- skittle- sk-

NMJ: No you're right, skrittle.

NHS: Skrittle?

NMJ: Yeah.

NHS: Hold on, so that's not it-

NMJ: Keep going-

NHS: Griddle! Griddle. What's the o- what's the one that starts with an "S"?

NMJ: You're gonna get there, I believe in you.

NHS: Skimmer. A ski-ski-ski-sk-

NMJ: Are you serious right now?

NHS: I'm super serious.

NMJ: AHAHAHA

NHS: This is really bad-

NMJ: I'm not gonna help you.

NHS: Skid-a skid-a skrittle- a skim- scur- a skim? A skibble? No, what is it? Tell me.

NMJ: You can do this.

NHS: A skittle. A skitter!

NMJ: You keep going in circles- *scratches chin*

NHS: A scrATCH! Skritch!

NMJ: No this isn't a hint!

NHS: A skittle! Why- no- *laughter* ski?

NMJ: Uh-huh-

NHS: Skid-

NMJ: *audible disappointment* No.

NHS: Skir... skur, skurle-

NMJ: My god-

NHS: Skrittle!

NMJ: No!!

NHS: *laughs* A s- I'm getting there-

NMJ: You're not!

NMJ: What happens when you level up, and you need to put your points into your...

NHS: Skill tree! Ski-skiltrill. Skill..

NMJ: You can't be for real right now- *laughter*

NHS: *lauging* I'm a hundred percent real oh my god! Oh no, oh my-

NMJ: *DRAMATIC HAND GESTURES*

NHS: Skill tree... *laughs*

NMJ: *covers mouth*

NHS: Skill.... SKILLET! *laughs hysterically* Oh my god!

NMJ: *laughing* There you go!

NHS: Oh my god, that wasn't a joke! God damnit.

--

WWX: Meet a frieeeendly monster!

NHS: Fuck, just give me the ingredients!

WWX: I did-

WWX: Get ready for a sliiiime adventure, we're making monsters coooome to liiife. Do you think they have a scaaary power, or have a seeecret hiding place? What if they have mooore than two eeeeyes? There's only one way to find out when we use sliiiime to play-

NHS: We're making monsters cum!

--

NMJ: *trying to concentrate on furiously pedalling on an exercise bike* STOP! Oh god, stop talking to me!!

NHS: Wait, but if we go to the home depot, we can get home depot hot dogs! They're so good...

NHS: How many miles have you got?

NMJ: 1.1 mile-

NHS: That means we have so many more... so many more!

NMJ: I'm gonna punch you in the face. I'm gonna punch you... in the face.

NHS: Three miles more! Your breathing is excellent. *reaching for a megaphone* I don't think he can hear me. Da-ge your breathing!

NMJ: *slaps megaphone* I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!

--

JC: Hey Siri! Call us daddy.

SIRI: I don't see a father in your contacts.

WWX: *cackles*

JC: *having an existential crisis*

[theunvanquishedzims]

The Michigan Fleet authors posted their AUs so here are mine

theunvanquishedzims: I have SO MANY Boat Boy ideas but I'm sitting on them because I came up with a bunch halfway through the book and they got jossed by the end rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Uhhh, sorry? I think?? theunvanquishedzims: (i.e. Basil gets sad and weepy over Rich and Liam flirting at a party, Trimmer plays fairy godmother a la ripping half his shirt off, giving him a pep talk, and sending him back out there to Win Back His Man) rollerskatinglizard: *whooping* theunvanquishedzims: Jossed so hard rollerskatinglizard:Okay, that's DELIGHTFUL rollerskatinglizard: Trimmer is the most terrifying fairy godmother rollerskatinglizard: Anything else? :Dc theunvanquishedzims: Lemme get my notes rollerskatinglizard: *gleeful wiggling*

theunvanquishedzims: Okay so I stopped reading when the Sympatico grabbed Rich during the storm and it took me a month or so to get back and finish, so I was under the impression that the ship was still being fixed in drydock and not, y'know, actually being crewed and sailed. (Trimmer yelling "just let her sink" hits reeeeeaaaallly different when you know that) rollerskatinglizard: Ahaha oh dang theunvanquishedzims: So the big idea was the gangsters needing something from the Sympatico. Not the general thugs and delinquents crewing the Sympatico but the actual organized crime of the Fleet, who were getting pretty used to using ships like the Sympatico to run their dirty deeds through. Except it's basically impossible to get what they need out of it, even when they drag out one of the old IST guys. He finally tells them Rich was the one who did the heavy lifting for the past few years rollerskatinglizard: Ooooh! rollerskatinglizard: What an interesting idea! theunvanquishedzims: Hang on I need to restart rollerskatinglizard: Ah yes, computers theunvanquishedzims: Sorry, that turned into a dinner break and running errands During which I came up with a couple new AUs theunvanquishedzims: Okay, back to mafia: they track Rich down, probably snag him after he's been out boarding. Off work, not expected back on the ship, tired from all the exercise, etc. They're not overtly threatening, just pick up his skimmer and politely suggest that he comes help them, and he probably goes quietly because there's like, six of them. I'm thinking only one of whom was actually posted on the Sympatico theunvanquishedzims: So they get back to the Sympatico. She's been temporarily decommissioned until the Fleet can fix her broken processes, but that's also a cover story by the mob. They want to clear out all the smuggled goods and information, but she's basically a ghost ship, silent and empty, and even the other IST guy couldn't get more than a few blinking lights. She's sulking basically, she knows they're not there to fix her so she's digging in her heels and playing dead. Like a toddler going ragdoll when they don't want to go to bed. theunvanquishedzims: They explain to Rich that they can't get a response and want him to take a crack at it. "Has she said anything?" "Who?" "The Sympatico." "...we didn't talk to it." "Well that's half your problem right there." theunvanquishedzims: At this point you should watch Show Yourself from Frozen 2, and the crystal scene from Atlantis the Lost Empire. Stepping into the place you've been called, making your presence known, and having a greater power reach out for you. Shiny lights, chasing the spark of life to its source, and having the power consume and embody you. Rich is used to it but it's probably pretty freaky from the outside, and way less magical-looking than a Disney movie. Probably more like when Magneto activated the machine in the first X-Men movie. Step up, turn it on, and suddenly it's sucking the life out of you, making you a living battery theunvanquishedzims: In my head I am picturing the glowing blue eyes, lights cracking along the skin like lightning or circuit patterns, the implants glowing in his temples, standing at a terminal like a star trek deck, maybe a faint breeze-like movement of the hair and clothes to indicate the sheer power radiating off of him. In reality it's probably more like he falls down, gets up, stumbles along to a good spot out of the weather, and curls up in a secluded defensible spot to stare emptily at the wall for a few hours while lights randomly go on and off around the ship theunvanquishedzims: Just being trailed by six very wary mafia dudes who have probably never seen someone mind-meld a ship, and definitely not solo. He's like a zombie, and when he does talk it's very clear he's talking for the both of them theunvanquishedzims: If any of them are in sync with the ship they definitely feel the !!!Rich you're back!!! vibe theunvanquishedzims: No idea how that resolves, I guess it depends on how powerful the mafia is. If they're the kind of entrenched criminals who are ongoing characters, then they have Rich scrub out what they need then dump him back on his skimmer to face the fallout alone. He might report it to the spooks? Or at least try to tell Basil and Mitch theunvanquishedzims: If they're not recurring characters then they were definitely being tracked by the spooks, who move in once the Sympatico comes back online. Rich has to answer some very tough questions but he cooperates fully and winds up digging up a LOT of dirt out of the Sympatico, now that the mafia showed him where to look. It's another one of the super traumatizing moments that makes him look cool and heroic. Oh yeah, totally got kidnapped, single-handedly piloted a ship, and helped bust the mafia, please stop talking about it, I need a nap, and also someone to go with me next time I go boarding. theunvanquishedzims: (And then I finished reading the book and found out that the Sympatico had a new crew and was out on the water with her AI still fried and broken, how did no one notice that)

__________________________________________

theunvanquishedzims: Okay I don't have Trimmer's voice well enough to write this fic so I'm feeding it to you raw: Trucker AU theunvanquishedzims: Rich is a long-haul trucker, much to the disappointment of his elder sister Angela, who is in law enforcement and thought he had a decent future in it too. Athena is a pro wrestler and totally down to support her brother traveling the country (and hopefully being in the same city as him sometime, she wants him to see her kick ass!) Rich wants to pursue a degree in [tech or engineering] but college is expensive, and trucking is a good way to make money, on top of which you don't have to pay rent when you're on the road. So he's saving up for school, probably listening to a lot of audiobooks, podcasts, and training guides while chugging along. theunvanquishedzims: Not nearly as bad or sketchy as the Sympatico, but life on the road can get pretty sketch sometimes, especially when you're alone. Enter Trimmer. Or rather, enter Rich into the middle-of-nowhere trucker stopover bar where Trimmer is getting his ass kicked. theunvanquishedzims: (Gonna go ahead and say the bar is called the Sympatico, and this is a very bad night to be there, which is saying something because any night at the Sympatico is a bad night to be there.) theunvanquishedzims: Fortunately, Rich is not trapped there by the cold uncaring waters of Lake Michigan, he can just turn around and leave when he sees the nightly fight brewing. Unfortunately, he has a weakness for cute twinks, and no matter how much the guy is insulting their mothers four on one is really not fair, so he winds up wading in, scooping Trimmer up, and murder-stalking to the exit theunvanquishedzims: [At this point I pause to stare out the window and wonder wistfully what their canon meeting was like, who approached who, if Trimmer just straight-up used his lunch to hire a bodyguard or if Rich did the "are you gonna finish that" puppy-eyes and Trimmer realized how easily he could be bribed, etc etc] theunvanquishedzims: In the Trucker AU Trimmer waits until they're outside to go feral goblin on the arm that's holding him, Rich drops him, and negotiation commences theunvanquishedzims: I don't have Trimmer's backstory nailed down, the "teenage runaway" archetype doesn't really suit someone with a large loving family, but safe to say that whatever lead him to hitchhiking across the Midwest he is determined to see through out of sheer bullheaded stubbornness. The only thing worse than calling your parents to bail you out with bus money home is calling your grandma. It might have involved stabbing a college advisor when the guy got rapey, he's technically not on the run from the law, he DEFINITELY is not on track to getting his degree. Halfway between college dropout and missing person. If he was wealthy he'd be backpacking Europe for a semester, but he's not, so he's hitchhiking America. And getting molested by truckers, because Trimmer can't have nice things. theunvanquishedzims: He is really not interested in getting molested by Rich! But, as Rich points out, he did just save him from getting stabbed, Trimmer doesn't seem to have any exit options for this backwater town, and holy #&$^ the bar's on fire. (The Sympatico burns to the ground that night, to the betterment of the world at large.) rollerskatinglizard: You have no idea how much I'm enjoying this But you should totally post it Splick and Roach would both scream in glee theunvanquishedzims: Rich and Trimmer get out while the getting is good, and it's nearly dawn before they finally hash out details. Rich offers to drop him off at the next town, but they're still pretty close to the epicenter of the mass exodus so the next few hundred miles are probably not going to be safe for Trimmer. By this point Trimmer has found a bunch of the old textbooks Rich bought secondhand to study in his free time and come to the conclusion that [this nerd is a nerd] his story checks out. Just a college kid trying to scrape together the cash to get an education and make a decent living. Reminds Trimmer of Trimmer. (Reminds Trimmer of Joey.) rollerskatinglizard: ;u; <3 Beautiful theunvanquishedzims: So now Rich has a little traveling buddy! Helps him stay awake on the long hauls, lets him use the carpool lanes, even reads to him out of the textbooks sometimes, with commentary. Trimmer is really smart and surprisingly easy to get along with. They nap in the cab, eat in diners, and share motel rooms. Trimmer unclenches a little. Rich is good about not asking personal questions. They definitely watch Athena's fights on tv more than once, much to Rich's chagrin and Trimmer's loud encouragement. He started fanboying over it to annoy and embarrass Rich, but it is surprisingly cathartic to watch someone get trash-talked and respond by just BODYSLAMMING their opponent. ("Why are you rooting for her, you're the biggest trash-talker I know," Rich mutters into his beer, face bright red as Trimmer whoops and high-fives the waitress he got to change the channel in the sports bar.) theunvanquishedzims: ("She would wipe the floor with me," Trimmer responds with a smirk, watching smugly as Rich tries to figure out if Trimmer is having impure thoughts about his baby sister) theunvanquishedzims: (They have already established that Trimmer does not have impure thoughts about Rich, that Rich DOES have impure thoughts about Trimmer, but as long as he stays in his own motel bed that's fine.) (Trimmer still sleeps with a knife under his pillow but doesn't bother in the cab, where their co-naps occasionally verge on snuggling.) rollerskatinglizard: <3 <3 <3 *perfect* theunvanquishedzims: They finally reach their destination. It has been [days to drive a rig between NJ and CA] and they make it there slightly ahead of schedule. Rich drops off the delivery, Trimmer comes face-to-face with the reality of the trip ending. He'd been hitchhiking for months and felt like he was going nowhere, and now a few days and suddenly he's crossed the entire country, and almost kinda maybe had fun doing it! And California's as good a place as any to stay, at least he won't freeze to death if he doesn't find a place to crash for the night. theunvanquishedzims: Then Rich comes back and hands him a wad of cash, pocketing a stack of his own. "Got a cash bonus for finishing early! And since you're the reason I made it here this fast, I just figured part of it is your share..." he peters out, trying to explain his reasoning. They sit in silence for a while, both thinking about Trimmer in California, far away from anyone who would want to hurt him, with a few hundred dollars in his pocket. theunvanquishedzims: "...Let's get lunch," Trimmer finally decrees, and Rich can't keep the relieved smile off his face. They renegotiate some things over lunch, and then go to pick up the next load to haul cross-country. Together. rollerskatinglizard: AWWWWWW!!!! *YES,* I love it!!! theunvanquishedzims: And then eventually they go to college together, and get their degrees, and good jobs, and meet the families, and Trimmer absolutely drags Rich to as many of Athena's fights as they can manage on the road. It's just to save money, things are cheaper when you split the rent, Trimmer hollers on the phone. You put a ring on that boy's finger, y'hear?! Hellbender hollers back. I am so glad the word moirail exists rollerskatinglizard: YES God yes Also this AU pleases me greatly rollerskatinglizard: Blessings upon you for it theunvanquishedzims: ...technically the Michigan Fleet takes place in a post-Homestuck world, so theoretically it could have time to enter mainstream lexicon. It's better than "bromance" theunvanquishedzims: JUST THROWING THAT OUT THERE >.> rollerskatinglizard: Yeah, totally different feel than bromance!

_____________________________________

theunvanquishedzims: Speaking of Homestuck! Wanna hear the Helmsman AU? :3 rollerskatinglizard: YES PLEASE theunvanquishedzims: Okay gimme a minute to get my notes, it's not based on One of Our Submarines but I can't remember the fic title. Have you read the one where the kids redesign the helmsrig and use that to garner support for Feferi as Empress? Lots of political drama, Sollux-centric, [spoiler], and in the end they win *but at what cost* (((If someone knows what fic I'm talking about please link me, I can't find it.))) rollerskatinglizard: No, I haven't theunvanquishedzims: It's good, if you like the nitty-gritty of rebellions. The piece I'm cherry picking is the new Empress introducing a new way of helming that allows more freedom. Instead of a single enslaved lowblood being hung up in tentacle wires until they drop dead, it's something you can unplug from, allowing psionics to swap out, take shifts, etc. So Empress Clearwater (yay seadweller name) is dead, long live Empress Clearwater, and she shakes things up by introducing her new helmsrig and orders it implemented Fleet-wide theunvanquishedzims: I don't think this universe is as bad as canon but it's still pretty rough on the bad ships, and the Sympatico is a very bad ship theunvanquishedzims: Angie is still a security officer, probably fairly high-ranking as a greenblood. Athena is a pro wrestler. Sports are probably a bigger part of life in a Fleet that doesn't center around conquest. The three probably grew up in the same neighborhood, maybe dabbled in quadrants before settling on hatefriends. Oooh, or ash, Athena setting them up to talk out their issues over lunch and then heckle each other over their other quadrants could fit in that quadrant. theunvanquishedzims: Rich is, of course, a helmsman. It's rare for someone that close to jade to be so powerful, he was actually planning on a career in tech, but when he got called in for psionic testing he basically crushed it. Possibly literally. And olive is still technically a lowblood, so off to the helm with you. theunvanquishedzims: His first posting is the Sympatico, and it's a nightmare. The one bright spot (dark spot? How do trolls even. *insert rant about Kanaya being pastel goth not goth-goth*) theunvanquishedzims: The one bright spot is Trimmer, a technician whose survival method is to lock himself in the helm dock and stab anybody who tries to mess with Rich when he's piloting. It's basically how things work in the superstorms, but 75-90% of the time instead of a few times a year theunvanquishedzims: Rich can barely talk most days, they communicate via chat client, and even that requires a lot of brainpower so they can't do it when the Sympatico has to fight something or do difficult maneuvers in space, which is pretty frequently. But Rich keeps an eye out for Trimmer, directing him through the ship to help him avoid people and fights, and tweaking things like hall lights when things get hairy. I think at least once he turned off the gravity, it cost him but it got Trimmer out of a really bad situation and gave him an excuse to hole up in the helmsdeck for a few days until things cooled off theunvanquishedzims: But all that is in the past! There's a new Empress, a new crew, and a new way of helming! theunvanquishedzims: The Sympatico is one of the flagships to roll out the new helmsrig. The original crew was disbanded, culled, reassigned. Trimmer was allowed to stay (at Rich's request) to ease the transition. It's a big day, lots of media attention documenting the new helmsmen, and Rich is doing his best to keep calm. He had to do some physical therapy to stand upright and be able to walk from the big speech to his shiny new helmsrig, but as a fairly young recruit he's not nearly as bad off as some older helmsmen whose bodies have atrophied. He's still pretty skinny though, especially when compared to Angie and Athena, who he reunited with (for the cameras) #helmsmenaretrollstoo, #greenc3<green, #omgishipit, see things are much better now, people can reclaim their lives and quadrants, helming is something to be excited for not scared of, etc. Lots of propaganda, lots of attention, lots of pressure to get this right theunvanquishedzims: And then he walks into the helm and Trimmer is there. Rich would probably have had a meltdown if he hadn't been, but no one can tell because they're so calm and professional. They're both cleaned up and impeccably uniformed, the plugging in goes smoothly, and the Sympatico comes to life and lifts off into the sky into a sunset that would make a Hollywood director weep. The cameras turn off, great job everybody, and things return to normal. Except Rich and Trimmer have no idea how to handle normal. For the first 8 hours it's fine, it's good, it's a little weird that Trimmer looks so tidy and that Rich is sitting in a padded chair instead of being flesh-jacked by tentacles, but it's fine. They chat over text, a little stilted but plenty to catch up on theunvanquishedzims: Rich spies on the new crew and gossips about how boring they are and how weird the ship looks with everything cleared out and well-lit, and wow where did that section of storage come from? Oh right that used to be a hidden smuggling nook. Haha nook. See they're fine, they're laughing at the same old jokes. DEFINITELY weird that Rich is physically laughing. And then their relief shift comes on, with the new 2nd shift helmsman, and it's time for Rich to get unplugged for the day and go. Go to his room, which he has now, or to eat, which he can do now, or any one of a million things that normal trolls do, because he's a normal troll now. (This is turning out a little different from in my head but I like it.) He makes it about two hallways, walking silently side-by-side with Trimmer, before he breaks down. Or rather Trimmer breaks down. Or maybe they both simultaneously break, there is a lot of breaking happening, and it's not great that it's happening in the hall where anybody could walk by and where the new helmsman is almost certainly seeing them and possibly reporting them, and Trimmer's flight instincts are to run back to the helm where it's safe but Rich isn't there, RICH was the reason it was safe and he's not at the helm, he's right there in the hall. Rich, I know not how, picks up Trimmer and gets them to him room. It' close by, thank goodness, and it has a lock on the door, how weird, and Trimmer is there. He missed Trimmer so so much. rollerskatinglizard: ;u; <3<3<3<3 theunvanquishedzims: [The following scene contains content too graphic for wigglers under the age of seven sweeps] rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Hardcore conciliation!!! theunvanquishedzims: From Trimmer's POV: Merrill requested him to remain a tech on the Sympatico. Makes sense, he was the only one who treated the guy like an actual troll and not a drooling mass of computational power. They got caught up, it's weird how clean and quiet the ship is, no fights to report beyond a spat in the cafeteria that turned out to be pitch flirtation. His shirtcuffs itch and he wants to roll them up but it's day one of the new empire and he doesn't want to get culled for being untidy on the Empress's pet project ship. There's so many other things to get culled for, anyway. And then shift is over. (Weird, he's used to working 16-hour days and sleeping in the helmdeck half the time.) And he has to unplug Merrill (double weird, he's not used to touching Merrill unless it's for a physical repair. Very aware of Rich as a physical person, especially when he's standing up and not obscured in a mass of tentacles.) And then they leave, together, which is WEIRD, because for sweeps Trimmer has been sneaking out of the helmdeck to go on a food run with Merrill texting him directions, and there's no Merrill on screen providing guidance to avoid fights, but there's not gonna BE any fights, and everything is the same but different and looks weird and shiny and there's a giant troll right next to him, stalking him, why didn't Merrill warn him?! rollerskatinglizard: Oh NO, ahaha, oh these poor doofuses theunvanquishedzims: From Rich's POV: he's been seeing these hallways for sweeps, but not from this angle, the ship is so familiar but so foreign to him, and he can't hear her, can't feel her, and he keeps reaching out for her even after all that training he did to get used to the new tech, there's still an absence and some part of his brain that says not being linked to the ship means something has gone catastrophically wrong and everyone onboard is going to die, TRIMMER is going to die, Trimmer is freaking out and hyperventilating next to him, Trimmer's running out of oxygen and the ship isn't responding to him to tell him what's wrong with the oxygen, and then Trimmer goes to bolt back to the helm but that's full of strange trolls and a new helmsman, and that knowledge is enough to shake him back to the situation at hand. He doesn't know where he finds the strength or the presence of mind, but he manages to grab up Trimmer and get them back to safety. It's just that safety is now his berth, not the helm. They're alone in his berth. And Trimmer is still freaking out. Sh-shoosh? Shoosh. Shooooooosh. theunvanquishedzims: Everything is diamonds and snow and beautiful shining crystals (in the movies that will someday be made about this day.) In the moment there's a lot more hyperventilating and snot. Basically, culmination behind the entire fic: do they actually have feelings for each other, or was it just about mutual survival the whole time? rollerskatinglizard: INCREDIBLY ADORABLE AND INTIMATE COMFORT, *YESSSS* Thank you yes, I'll have a dozen God that's splendid theunvanquishedzims: And they're both freaking out, Rich is hungry and physically tired and needs to do a lot of stretches, Trimmer is not used to Rich being huge and mobile and right next to him, and they both have crazy big trust issues, but...yeah, they're pale. They're so pale for each other, and it was so hard during the transition not seeing each other and not knowing how the other felt, not knowing how THEY felt, if they really had feelings or if it was all a bad situation. And now they know. They have feelings. And because they're trolls and not humans, they can flop on a pile and talk about those feelings in a non-platonic way, and Rich can pet Trimmer's hair and tell him how pretty he is and how Rich is glad that Trimmer got it properly cut instead of just hacking it too short for someone to grab, and how much he worried in the hall about not being able to see farther than his own field of vision to keep Trimmer out of harm's way, and how this whole thing is so weird and Rich is so scared but he's just really, really happy that Trimmer took the posting on the Sympatico, because he pities Trimmer and he wants him around and he was so glad that Trimmer wanted to still be around him too theunvanquishedzims: The media always depicts piling as either the traditional fairytale highblood freakout, or an extremely mellow ASMR-ish chillout with lots of hairpetting and horn polishing. Not two midbloods looting a mostly-empty room for enough junk to make a large enough pile to sit on, shrieking at each other about their feelings and how weird this is and why didn't you SAY something, me?! why didn't YOU say something?! Three SWEEPS we've been dancing around this! Well I didn't know if you felt the same way or if you just needed me to survive! Etc etc etc. Lots of getting up and stomping around , pacing the floor while ranting, trying to scavenge more stuff to throw on the pile. Rich owns basically nothing and it's the first time he's not judging Trimmer for keeping his room a garbage heap, even empty pizza boxes would be better than trying to make a pile out of two sweaters and a toothbrush. rollerskatinglizard: XDDD TuT aaaaah, YES theunvanquishedzims: Rich definitely rips off a wall panel and pulls out some wires, Trimmer doesn't even question it, they've lived and breathed this ship long enough to know what every wire does and which are nonessential to ship functioning. And with the wall panel crunched up they can pile stuff around it to make it seem less sparse, and wow it doesn't even matter that he pulled a panel down, this is HIS wall in HIS room now, he can "redecorate" as he sees fit, cue more yelling about how he doesn't know what to do with himself or his newfound freedom. The whole thing is just yelling and cussing and grabbing and shaking. It probably looks black from the outside, but they are swimming in palest cream. theunvanquishedzims: Eventually they give up on the pile. They go through Rich's entire perigee of snack rations to avoid having to go to the cafeteria, halfheartedly make fun of Rich's chewing, then crawl into the recuperacoon together. Thank goodness there was such a big push to show off how great helmsmen's lives will be, Rich scored a blueblood-huge 'coon and he's still skinny enough that they can both fit in it together. They sleep together, in sopor like proper trolls with proper lives as opposed to surrounded by pink tentacles and misery. Tomorrow they'll have to venture out for food, and do Rich's stretches and physical therapy, and head to their shift like the galaxy hasn't flipped upside-down, but they're handle that together. rollerskatinglizard: Oh help, my heart!! TuT It's SO CUTE, AAAAAAAH theunvanquishedzims: Okay my computer has been trying to shut down for the last three paragraphs so I think it's time to log off for the night, but I hope you enjoy the AUs, I will tell you more tomorrow rollerskatinglizard: Thank you so much!! Have a good night! theunvanquishedzims: (In the original version Rich and Trimmer came face-to-face for the first time since the Sympatico was busted up and Rich pulled out for rehab, and basically had a giant pale meltdown right there against the wall. There was purring, and crying, and confessions, all caught on film. Athena and Angie definitely saw. It had to be censored out of the broadcast. Someone uploaded it to Troll Pornhub and it won a Troll Pornhub Emmy for Truth in Journalism, which was not a category the Troll Pornhub Emmys had before, so congrats Merrill and Trimmer) rollerskatinglizard: *dying* oh my GOD Rich would blush so hard he'd keel over

_________________________________________

theunvanquishedzims: I woke up to the idea of Rich as Fezzik and Trimmer as Inigo Montoya (book version.) rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Oh man, delightful theunvanquishedzims: Soft-hearted giant and stabby little friend rollerskatinglizard: Yesss theunvanquishedzims: Only problem is Trimmer's grudge seems to be against the entire world, not any particular murderer theunvanquishedzims: But they could definitely take on the Zoo of Death together rollerskatinglizard: It could be both, in the AU! Specific grudge and also he hates everyone theunvanquishedzims: Instead of not being left-handed he pulls his feet out of his boots and surprise! More hands to stab you with Makes the acrobatics on top of the cliff more exciting rollerskatinglizard: *dying* YES Perfect! theunvanquishedzims: I don't know who the Man in Black of most beautiful woman in the world would be, but Rich catching them jumping out a window to whisk them away on horseback is lovely rollerskatinglizard: *strokes chin thoughtfully* If Rich is Fezzik, I think Basil might as well be the beautiful love interest, and Mitch is his farm boy turned dashing rogue theunvanquishedzims: Mitch and Trimmer sword fighting rollerskatinglizard: YES theunvanquishedzims: Mitch going through hell and back to save his lady love, then Rich shows up with the horses and says "hello pretty lady" and Basil is just swooning over him rollerskatinglizard: Mitch is pretty chill with Rich by then, he can handle sharing Rich didn't try *hard* to kill him, after all theunvanquishedzims: He even made it a fair fight instead of ambushing him He put down the rock and Mitch put down the sword and they tried to kill each other like civilized people rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Yes, exactly theunvanquishedzims: Rich even helped bring him back from being mostly dead rollerskatinglizard: They're practically best buddies now! theunvanquishedzims: Which I imagine is 1000x funnier because Trimmer hates this guy and doesn't want to help him but he has info Trimmer needs rollerskatinglizard: Rich just being reprovingly like Come on, buddy, he's cool really I KNOW you bonded over your sword fight with him Don't lie Trimmer: HE'S STILL A DIPSHIT theunvanquishedzims: Trimmer: It was a little fun to take the boots off I guess, I don't get to do that often rollerskatinglizard: Hahaha yes theunvanquishedzims: Downside of being the best swordsman in the world, nobody can touch you. UNTIL NOW. Trimmer: I killed the guy but now I have nothing to live for. Mitch: Have you considered piracy? Stabbing people all day and all the rope ladders you can climb rollerskatinglizard: *dying* theunvanquishedzims: Now Trimmer's life goal is to reclaim his title of Best Swordsman, which means fighting Mitch a lot rollerskatinglizard: Which they both enjoy Sometimes Trimmer wins, sometimes Mitch does rollerskatinglizard: Roach points out that Liam would be Miracle Max theunvanquishedzims: I was just about to type that! rollerskatinglizard: Heee! Good brain wave theunvanquishedzims: You need a cure for death? Nope, sorry. You need to it humiliate my mortal enemy? Coming right up! rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: Slipping Rich the holocaust cloak "because it fits so nice" rollerskatinglizard: Pfff yes theunvanquishedzims: Which is said with a million more winky faces than the movie rollerskatinglizard: XDDD Naturally Liam is a much higher-libido mad scientist-substitute theunvanquishedzims: He doesn't have a wife he has like six boyfriend minions hanging around in various states of undress. He got fired for banging the king when he was the royal miracle man, he did a good job but the prince found it icky. rollerskatinglizard: *dying* YES theunvanquishedzims: Basil as Buttercup tho. Basil: Mitch is a good friend. :) Just a great buddy. :)) Kind of smelly but a nice boy. :))) Someone: *might possibly find Mitch attractive* Basil: What? Why. No. Why would she. I mean yeah he's smart and muscular and tan and broad-shouldered and has perfect teeth and his sweat glistens in the sun as he does his chores shirtless, but c'mon, he's not THAT much hotter than her middle-aged husband. No way. rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* rollerskatinglizard: My cowriters very enjoy this AU concept, btw, thank you theunvanquishedzims: Excellent theunvanquishedzims: Trimmer: I told him I was there to kill him and he just...ran away? Mitch: Who does that? rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* theunvanquishedzims: Basil being a slobby peasant until two minutes after Mitch leaves, then realizing he has to take care of himself if he wants to keep Mitch's attention, and only then starting to regularly bathe and brush his hair and work on his figure. rollerskatinglizard: Snirk! Sounds about right, doofus nerd that he is theunvanquishedzims: Then he becomes a princess and has two servants per limb to keep him clean and shining, so when Mitch sneaks into the wedding announcement crowd his first view of Basil is 1. clean 2. shiny hair 3. dressed like a queen

_______________________________

General book chit-chat, no specific AU

theunvanquishedzims: I saw the post about the Sympatico crew having a very different view of Rich than his friends and now I am consumed with the idea of Rich being seen as scary by anyone who knows him for more than a single minute. Like, he flinches at the sight of a uniform, he can't stand to be in a room with more than one other person in it, and he's so busy working he doesn't really have time to go around carving out a territory rollerskatinglizard: Right? You'd think it'd be tricky, but apparently no theunvanquishedzims: And now there's video of him covered in kittens, and doing cool board tricks, and pretending a little barbel is too heavy to lift, and also he might be in the news for taking down a murderous conspiracy at the Mall. rollerskatinglizard: *laughing* Indeed theunvanquishedzims: Where did big scary monster Merrill go, who is this marshmallow rollerskatinglizard: What scam is he trying to run?!? theunvanquishedzims: Oooh, I pity the fool who is assigned to a boat with Officer Merrill. Double flinch response rollerskatinglizard: RIGHT? *OH SHIT, THERE'S ANOTHER ONE* And she's ARMED theunvanquishedzims: Try to blow off some steam by watching some wrestling, A THIRD ONE rollerskatinglizard: Some poor dumbass who sneered at Trimmer once ends up hiding out on a penny boat bc there's MERRILLS EVERYWHERE, IT'S NOT SAFE OUT THERE theunvanquishedzims: *dying laughing* I imagine a non-terrible Sympatico crew member meeting reformed Rich is like those Very Special Episodes where the hero's high school bully or childhood bad influence friend comes to town, and they're so nice and friendly and apologetic about what happened back in the day rollerskatinglizard: We actually have an encounter something like that planned! theunvanquishedzims: The hero's friends are all charmed and the hero can't convince anyone that it's all an act, he's secretly still terrible, look I'll prove it *does something that makes the hero look bad and the reformed guy look like a victim* Yaaaaaaaaay!!! Outside perspective is the BEST rollerskatinglizard: Rich and this random dude, both acting like the other one is a total menace Meanwhile, anyone who's known either of them since is like ....No?? He's a fine guy, perfectly reasonable Merrill, stop growling theunvanquishedzims: Two Spider-Men pointing at each other rollerskatinglizard: Hah! Yes theunvanquishedzims: Also the fact that Rich has gotten BIGGER since leaving the Sympatico is probably a shock rollerskatinglizard: OH yeah theunvanquishedzims: Richard "Cranky Because He's Slowly Starving To Death" Merrill rollerskatinglizard: I mean, it's a shock to Rich When he hits another growth spurt So it's definitely a shock to anyone else theunvanquishedzims: Oh yeah, he was like 17 when he was first assigned there, nowhere near done growing yet Richard "My Shirts Rip When I Flex Wrong" Merrill rollerskatinglizard: *snickering* He'd look so sheepish and disgruntled if someone gave him that "I flexed and the sleeves fell off" shirt theunvanquishedzims: I am so glad Trimmer got to him before, like, a gang could figure out he's easily bribed with food. Things could have gone so much worse, corruption-wise rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: I just finished Athena and the Midnight Chicken and WOW Rich was actually kind of close to giving in to peer pressure there, if Athena hadn't thrown herself towards the proverbial sword he might have let himself be talked into something he really didn't want to do. rollerskatinglizard: It's possible! Baby Rich is very weak to peer pressure theunvanquishedzims: If they had been smart and manipulative and laid the groundwork first it would have been even easier, not just "here's a knife let your ingrained killing instincts do the work" rollerskatinglizard: Yeah! It could've gone much worse theunvanquishedzims: In the wrong hands Rich would make a very good, very sad soldier But like, deep down inside sad where no one could see it. rollerskatinglizard: That was actually close to his original story when I came up with him

[I’ll check with Skates to see if it’s okay to post that bit]

theunvanquishedzims: I'm already nervous about those two Horrible Old Men rollerskatinglizard: Which two? theunvanquishedzims: My face went D: at the idea that there's more than two rollerskatinglizard: *pats u gently* theunvanquishedzims: The werewolf guy with the boys on leashes is the one that makes my instincts scream KILL IT WITH FIRE, but there's also the one with the scar on his face? I wanna say Arthur Carroway rollerskatinglizard: >u> Gosh, Zims, idk WHY you'd be worried about him Just bc my tablet keyboard knows how to spell Carraway That's no reason to be concerned! rollerskatinglizard: Maybe Splick made him the [tarot] Devil bc he's devilishly handsome! Did you think of that?? theunvanquishedzims: I am terrified of him showing up, I know I'll be cringing too hard to keep reading right away. Men who abuse positions of power are so squicky, I couldn't even stand to watch the Office and Michael Scott is like, the most benign example of the trope But yeah a guy like that getting to Rich as a younger more mallable person, fresh-faced and eager to please. Ugh. Such a bad ending. rollerskatinglizard: YUP theunvanquishedzims: William Sandgren is the other one, I think rollerskatinglizard: Fortunately Rich did get rescued originally! I don't do sad endings theunvanquishedzims: He looks cool, I don't immediately want him dead for my own safety rollerskatinglizard: <u< theunvanquishedzims: ...I will ignore that face and continue to think of him as the lesser of two evils for now rollerskatinglizard: Absolutely feel free! ^u^ theunvanquishedzims: When I thought about this earlier I imagined Liam actually being the one to start a pissing contest with Arthur. Rich guy vs criminal guy, my grandmother bedazzled the skulls of her enemies, your teeth would make a lovely necklace, etc etc "Well I'd love to get them around your throat" ;) rollerskatinglizard: You know Liam QUITE well theunvanquishedzims: I'm a visual learner, so all the illustrations are helping me flesh out characteristics. Liam smiling like a psycho while his face drips blood is very telling. rollerskatinglizard: Hah!!! Right? God, he's SUCH a little firebrand theunvanquishedzims: (Also, AU where Liam is the babydoll heir and Rich is the soldier mod bodyguard he climbs like a tree) rollerskatinglizard: We have definitely discussed that AU thoughtfully >u> It's good, v tasty theunvanquishedzims: Rich is all THIS GOES AGAINST THE RULES and Liam is all oh you like being told what to do hmm? >:3~ rollerskatinglizard: Rich: God this is SUCH a bad idea, I'm gonna get so fired Liam: Not if you're good enough at it! theunvanquishedzims: I imagine without a pregnancy they'd be able to keep it under wraps slightly longer than grandma Beaker rollerskatinglizard: True! theunvanquishedzims: "Under wraps" like everyone in the house can't hear them rollerskatinglizard: Pffff YUP theunvanquishedzims: Ugh now I'm remembering Trimmer being scared of Rich getting drunk and pushy and I'm sad again rollerskatinglizard: No one likes Rich's drinking except Rich rollerskatinglizard: It's okay tho, Trimmer trusts Rich more after that theunvanquishedzims:I think he'll figure it out given enough time. Rich: Well everyone drinks because work sucks. Basil and Mitch: Nope! Rich: Well I'm a soldier mod so it just LOOKS like I'm drinking a lot. Angie and Thena: Nope! Rich: Well I have trauma from the Sympatico so I need alcohol to deal with that. Trimmer: Nope! Rich: ...well I guess I have a problem then. :< Everyone: Yep! rollerskatinglizard: Indeed theunvanquishedzims: I am so curious about their origins, how the relationship developed, how apparently they had half a handjob between them and went NOPE NEVER AGAIN, how they wound up co-sleeping, if they ever cried on one another, etc etc rollerskatinglizard: I'm 100% certain that Rich cried on Trimmer at least once, while Trimmer awkwardly patted his hair and gently called him a wuss or something If Trimmer ever cried it would've been in the middle of the night, and none of them would ever mention it in the light of day theunvanquishedzims: Was that Trimmer's first posting? I know it was Rich's, so he kiiiind of didn't know any better, but Trimmer is older by a bit rollerskatinglizard: It definitely wasn't Trimmer's first, no, the latest in a long string of postings that went from okay to bad to worse theunvanquishedzims: Oh nooooooo No wonder he finally said screw it and got a solo boat rollerskatinglizard: Yep

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Bottle Job

leverage 2.11

Parker: So this is paying respects, hmm?

Nate: Oh, absolutely, yeah. I mean, it's an Irish wake

parker likes learning about people things and I’m so proud of her for that

- - - - -

eliot is wearing a leather jacket, hoodie, AND a flannel,,, we see you

- - - - -

Eliot: Whoo. Redheads burn the hottest, don't they?

Nate: Easy. She's like my niece.

Eliot: She's not like your daughter, though.

Nate: Yeah. Like my niece. So, I don't want you to like my niece ‘cause she's like my niece.

Eliot: I don't like your niece.

Nate: No, but you know what I mean.

eliot SETTLE DOWN lmao

also what does it mean that I’m attracted to everyone eliot is attracted to in the show ??? that we have the same taste ???

- - - - -

we love it when the ot3 is framed together in scenes

- - - - -

Hardison: That's what sucks about the credit crunch. Honest people can't get loans, sharks move in, 12 points on the interest every month. There's no way to get out from under that.

- - - - -

Eliot: I don't care. You don't collect debts at a wake. You just don't do it. Want me to go downstairs, break this guy's knees?

- - - - -

can someone also make a compilation of smooth pickpockets/handoffs between the team because DAMN they are slick

- - - - -

Doyle: Mark Doyle, loan shark. If I were ashamed, I couldn't do my job, could I? I provide a service for people with no recourse, help those with nowhere else to turn. Society needs me.

Tara: Right, but isn't it, um, illegal?

Doyle: As me Da says, we pick up where the law leaves off.

[Leverage HQ]

(Hardison turns to give an incredulous look to Nate)

- - - - -

Hardison: Look, man, it is 9:00pm on a Friday night. All the banks are closed.

Parker: ATMs.

Hardison: Daily withdrawal limits. If y'all want me to do an electronic wire transfer of 100 grand between the Caymans and Madagascar, I can do that. If you're talking cash, you're out of luck. I'm sorry. Welcome to the future.

Eliot: Just use your little slimmer thing, man, and gank the ATMs.

Hardison: It's called a skimmer, but thank you for trying. And, no, I don't have that thing anymore. We're the good guys now. I haven't used that thing in months.

Parker: Months?

Hardison: Yeah.

Eliot: We've been the good guys longer than that.

Hardison: Well, we had a break.

parker and eliot be like: 👀

- - - - -

Hardison: Emergency fund.

(Eliot and Parker just look at him for a moment, then all three scramble. Eliot pushes over a chair and cuts open the bottom of it. Parker pulls several cereal boxes from the cupboard and dumps them out on the counter. Hardison takes the painting of Nate from the wall. Parker picks up several bundles of cash from among the cereal. Hardison carefully cuts the backing of the painting)

Parker: Whoa! What are you doing?

Hardison: Oh, what, you thought I kept Old Nate around for sentimental reasons?

Parker: Yes.

Hardison: Nah.

(Hardison peals back the paper and pulls out several bundles of cash that he hands to Eliot, who has his own money from the bottom of the chair)

I love to see how their minds work and how they would each hide their money

- - - - -

(Hardison cuts into the wood at the back of the bookshelves and pulls away the wood, exposing wires which he pulls out)

Hardison: Here. This is the cable to the television in the bar downstairs.

(Parker pulls the wires across the room)

Hardison: Nate, we're ready down here. I'm about to splice, well, everything.

okay but WHY is he wearing that full-face helmet ???

- - - - -

Doyle: What's your name?

Nate: Name's Jimmy. Yeah, Jimmy Ford.

- - - - -

(Liam and Liam’s brother are playing darts when Eliot walks up, laughing)

Liam: What's your problem?

Eliot: You remind me of my sister. (throws a dart without looking and hits the center of the target) Yeah, it's all in the wrist. (to Cora) Hey, how are ya? Good to see ya. Can I buy a couple of beers for my boys and one for me if you don't mind. We're gonna play a little darts here.

Liam: Do that again.

Eliot: All right. (hits center of board without looking) I'll show ya how to do that.

Liam: Yeah

eliot is so talented + that lil brow raise I love it

- - - - -

Tara: And I'm close to decoding this ledger.

Parker: Names?

Tara: And alphanumeric substitutions.

Parker: You know how to read that?

Tara: Yeah. I trained in cryptog... Never mind.

- - - - -

Hardison: Whoo! Yeah, baby. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about right there. Yeah.

Tara: I didn't realize you were quite that into basketball.

Hardison: Ba-basketball? Woman, we just pulled off the wire in the time it takes to get a pizza delivered. This is a big win. Big. They're gonna talk about this one.

he’s baby but also HELL YEAH

- - - - -

hardison taking his shirt off to change into more professional clothes? we love to be reminded of how JACKED aldis really is

- - - - -

Parker: What if I can't crack his safe?

(Eliot and Nate look at her, she smirks)

Parker: Seriously? C'mon

she make joke 🥰

- - - - -

Eliot: Led us to a warehouse. We're in now.

(Eliot and Parker climb through stock in a warehouse)

Hardison: What, I'm sorry. Led you? Led you to the warehouse?

[Leverage HQ]

Hardison: I had two cell phones and two minutes. Do you know else can do what I do? CIA, MI-6 and me.

- - - - -

Nate: What's the ETA on the cash?

Eliot: We're at the safe.

[Warehouse]

Eliot: Parker wants to take it out for dinner and drinks first.

Parker: This is a Glen-Reeder Prestige from the 20's. So many memories.

Nate: Tell her to pick it up.

Eliot: Come on, Parker.

Parker: I would move a lot faster, if you weren't stomping around.

Eliot: Shh. It's not me stomping. I don't stomp.

(Eliot moves to the door and peeks out, then exits the room)

this marriedness

- - - - -

on today’s edition of eliot using non-weapons-as-weapons, he used half of one of the goon’s wood piece to beat him up

- - - - -

Eliot: Hey. Come here.

(the third man runs away and Eliot throws the pole after him. In the office, Parker hums to the safe until Eliot follows the third man into the room)

Parker: Huh?

(the man swings at Eliot, but Eliot punches him in the face. Parker continues to try and crack the safe as Eliot grabs the man’s head and drives it down onto a desk)

Parker: Would you...! I can't hear a thing.

(the man swings at Eliot who dodges the blow and grabs the man in a head lock. Parker kicks the man in the head, knocking him out)

Eliot: I had it.

Parker: I am trying to work here.

Eliot: Well, hurry up.

(Parker opens the safe and takes out the money)

parker was singing to herself unlocking the safe

also she’s a badass motherfucker that can knock a guy out with one kick

- - - - -

parker being VERY reluctant to give the money back? that checks out

- - - - -

parker makes sure to meet eyes with hardison before they take their shots. pre-ot3/pardison vibes in season TWO

- - - - -

holy SHIT when tara was saying goodbye to cora and cora was thanking her she TOTALLY checked tara out a tiny bit. y’all. YALL. it was like a tiny boob acknowledgement. like, I swear it was there okay?

[capricornus-rex]

A Shadow of What You Used to Be (8)

Chapter 8: Ensnared | Cal Kestis x Irele Skywalker

Summary: There is another! Years after young Anakin Skywalker departed Tatooine, his mother Shmi delivers a second child—this time, a daughter. Whilst the circumstance of the girl’s birth remains unexplained, Irele Skywalker has yet to choose the true path between those laid out for her.

Tags: Fem! OC, Irele Skywalker, Force-sensitive! OC, Anakin’s Younger Sister, Skywalker! OC, Darth Vader’s Secret Apprentice, Long-lost Sibling

A/N: Hi guys, I’m happy that you’re enjoying the story so far! But I have to let you know that I’ll be in a quick pause from publishing chapters for a while because I have to drop off my laptop in the shop again to have my new SSD put in (because I don’t know how to do it myself). They said it might take five working days, but that will still depend on my place in line. So this might be the last chapter for now, but I hope I get this baby back soon!

Requesting to be tagged: @heavenly1927​

Also in AO3

Chapters: Prelude – 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 | Previous: Part 7 | Next: Part 9 | Masterlist

9 of ?

“Hey, Irele, I got a job for us!” the Twi’lek boy, Frelik, panted as he supported himself on the arch of their door, as if he came sprinting from the town to their house in the salt flats.

“For who? Where? When!?” Irele bombarded back, and luckily Frelik answered all questions.

Irele looked over his shoulder, he had reached her house using the sand skimmer that all five of them worked together on. She told them to wait, hurried back inside, jumping to the floor from the first landing of the stairs to the rotunda and sprinted to her bedroom. She was all over the place—flashing from one side of the room to the other, swiping her pack with her tools and her scarf lying in different spots.

“I’m going out!” she announced in a voice loud enough for Owen and Beru to hear, wherever they were, and there was no time for either husband or wife to respond. They just heard the door whiz open and then shut.

Another wrangling job with her friends. It was a normal day, but it was something she enjoyed.

They’ve traveled about ten miles east of Mos Espa. The skimmer did its job, it resembles perhaps a smaller rendition of the complementary hovercraft that comes with a sail barge. Through his binoculars, Frelik spotted a cluster of brown speckles in the sand—a Bantha herd, he had found. Their quarry.

“Drello, full speed ahead!” cried out the tan-skinned Twi’lek to the human male. The boy cranked the lever of the motor and they pulled forward.

They stopped their skimmer in a safe distance, atop a small hill that overlooks the Banthas gathered around a watering hole—a rare sight in this planet. After peering through the lens, Frelik handed the binoculars to no one in particular, Irele took it out of his hands.

“Those aren’t domesticated, alright,” she panned slightly to her right. “We can slide our way down there. We’ll have enough cover so they won’t be startled by us.”

Before they got themselves on the move, Irele scanned the area for any signs of Tusken Raiders. It was not uncommon to have a run-in with Tuskens who were also trying to wrangle up mounts for their numbers; should that happen, the most logical—and only—move is to try your luck for another herd. A group of adult Tuskens versus a small band of children are in no good odds whatsoever.

“We’re clear. We’re the only ones here,” she reassured then returned the binoculars to Frelik. They sprinted back to the skimmer to retrieve their sleds and boards.

“I’m gonna ruin your win streak today, Irele!” prided Drello.

She clapped back after pulling her goggles down and smirked, “We’ll see about that!”

The children ran to the edge of the slope, the Twi’lek siblings shared a sled, Heeda—the other human female besides Irele—had her own sled that can only fit her. Golden blonde and sandy brown tinted the girl’s hair, and a bright-eyed face that proves her to be the youngest of the group, being only a year behind Irele.

A trail of sand plumed as they zipped down. It was a collective skill for them to resist squealing and cheering in delight as they slide down a two- to three-mile long sand slide. Irele and Drello surfed with a quiet confidence in the middle of this friendly competition between the two of them; sweving and leaving snake-trails along the sand, as one overtook the other.

Show off! Said each teenager in their heads, referring to the other.

Only a few meters remain before the group lands on flat grounds. They hopped out of their rides and hurried behind the rocks.

“I thought you were gonna beat my streak, Drello?” jeered Irele.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever!” the boy chide, and the girl snickered under her breath.

Another cautionary look through the lens before they approach the herd and then they scrambled to their positions. For every job they took together, there was always a harmony amongst them, a testament to their three to four years of friendship forged by their odd job life.

As always, Irele was in charge of the actual wrangling—along with Drello and Frelik. The two other girls’ jobs were to tranquilize the animals should any of them escape or refuse to be mounted.

The three vaulted over the rocks, leaving Heeda and Venee—Frelik’s sister—behind. Producing ropes out of their packs as they prowled quietly in the Banthas’ blind spots. Given the beast’s width, the children are practically invisible if they stay directly behind them. They became slower when they crept slower, the ropes primed into a lasso. In all their years in practice of this dangerous trade, they’ve mastered how to cleanly hoop the rope around the Bantha’s thick, spiraling horns.

A solid tug indicated that their ropes have rung around the base of the horns, they jumped onto the giants’ backs. Drello’s Bantha bucked its massive head, attempting to wriggle the rope off. Unfortunately, the boy had caught perhaps a more aggressive one than the rest of the herd; and to add insult to injury, his ropes have tangled around his leg and a few strands of the Bantha’s fur caught along with it.

“Drello, hold on!”

“Irele!” Drello yelped. “HELP!”

“Stay still!”

Seeing the trouble from their post, Heeda and Venee primed their dart guns.

“Wait for my signal, Heeda,” Venee warned. Fives seconds when they saw a clear shot, “Now!”

Two darts charged with a strong dosage of tranquilizer pierced their way through the Bantha’s curtain of fur and thick hide. The girth of the needle was thick enough to penetrate the animal’s skin. Drello’s Bantha seemed to have slowed down and the boy finally won some control over the beast.

“Troublemaker, are ya?! I’ll sell you to the first butcher I see in town!” grumbled a vexed Drello.

“Aw come on, don’t be like that!”

“What? He was the one who tried to buck me off while my leg’s caught in the rope,”

“Maybe he doesn’t like you,” Frelik suggested jokingly and the rest of the children giggled in agreement.

For the Banthas who didn’t put up much of a fight and were tamer, Irele suggested strapping their skimmer to the beasts.

“Since they got ropes around their horns anyway, we can just tie the other end on the winch!” she suggested, and everyone loved the fun idea.

There were no objections from her friends. In fact, they were all in on it! Heeda and Venee wanted to the ride bareback on the Bantha while the other three would sit in the skimmer. All five teenagers giggled in excitement and delight as their idea is about to be put into play, until Irele’s smile vanished, she flinched when she felt a needle prick the back of her shoulder.

“This is PG-957, target has been found and marked.” a sinister, muffled voice spoke through his comlink gauntlet.

No one noticed the tiny dart that had landed in her shoulder, but she easily swatted it off like it was some kind of debris. Little did she know that the tiny bullet that hit her packed such a punch. In her easterly side, she saw two distant figures calling out to her. The first figure waved a piece of cloth to get her attention, the second cupped their mouth with their hands to amplify their voice.

Irele!! Come quick!

“Hey, Irele, what’s wrong?” Frelik asked as he noticed his friend has suddenly gotten quiet.

“Smoke?” she muttered under her breath.

She squinted her eyes, sheltered her head with her scarf and confirmed that a pillar of smoke was in the distance as the Banthas pulled their skimmer.

“Do you see that?” she asked to no one in particular.

“See what?”

“That! That column of smoke over there!”

Frelik and Drello exchanged confused glances, and then back to Irele who had her back turned to them.

She squinted again, the two figures appeared to have gotten closer to where they are, and she could hear their voices.

IRELE, HURRY, IT’S YOUR FAMILY!!

“My home!” she bursts.

“Whoa, hey, Irele, where are you going!?” Drello tried to stop her by grabbing her sleeve but she slipped away.

Irele literally jumped out of a moving skimmer, taking her things with her as well.

“Irele, hey! Come back!” Heeda screeched.

“Where is she going!?” Venee exclaimed.

“There’s nothing over there!” Frelik insisted to his friend as he—along with his companions—watched her sprint into the distant nothingness.

Irele sprinted as fast as she could, those two figures materialized into a pair of older human males. Her friends literally lost her in the desert just when they were about to make their way back to Mos Espa, where they client awaits.

“I can’t see her anymore! Frelik, can you!?”

The Twi’lek growled in frustration, “No, she went straight into the storm!”

“Is she crazy!?” his sister protested.

“We have to go after her!” Heedra insisted.

“We’re not equipped for a sandstorm, Heeda, we can’t turn around. We have to get back to town and get shelter!” Drello argued.

They have no choice. They continued in their original path but they wordlessly promised that they’d come back for her.

Irele followed the direction of the smoke, knowing that it’s coming from the homestead. The adrenaline made her forget the aching of her legs, exhausted from running. She cared not if her friends didn’t believe her, her vision narrowed to the direction of her house. She didn’t even notice that the two males she followed were out of her sight.

The tower of black smoke got bigger as she closed the distance further. At the top of her parched lungs, she cried out for her family.

“OWEN!! BERU!!” she screeched.

She caught sight of her homestead in flames—or so she thinks—the dirty white dome of her house was charred black, a gaping hole put into the front door, the machines in their rotunda had been blown up, and tattered rags scattered across the front of the house.

“No…” she gasped. “NO!! OWEN! BERU! WHERE ARE YOU!?”

She repeated these three names, but an answer did not come.

Irele… a voice called to her.

“Owen!?”

Irele… do not fight it. It instructed her. It was a deep, ominous voice, and after the last word, a sharp robotic breath followed.

She recognizes that voice anywhere. She’s heard it in her nightmares, during the nights where she cannot sleep.

“No… No… Bring them back!” she cried.

She did not know it was an illusion. The sniper who had planted the needle into her flesh had followed the girl aimlessly going into an incoming sandstorm.

Poor Irele spun around in a panic, thinking that she was standing in the premises of her home, when in fact that she was standing in the first few inches of the storm. It was all a blur in her eyes, but she persisted looking for her family. The sniper, a trooper with a unique black armor, watched the poor girl spin until she got dizzy and weak.

Meanwhile, Darth Vader remained unmoving in his meditation chamber, dead center in the black, cold floor. He could hear Irele’s cries, her screaming of Owen and Beru’s names, and he could feel the hot, prickling wind that swats her face. The leather of his gloves squeaked as he tightened his already-closed fists.

Irele…

“No…” she exhaled one last time. “Bring them… back…”

“Target incapacitated. Requesting transport.” The trooper reported and was answered by an incoming transport craft to retrieve the trooper and a knocked out Irele.

–

The storm had eventually died down, but the teenagers’ anxiety did not.

Once they’ve gotten rid of the Banthas, they instantly hopped back on their skimmer and retraced their steps to the location where they lost Irele.

The sandstorm had erased her tracks, but they followed the direction where she aimlessly ran to.

Frelik heavily relied on his binoculars to find any sign of Irele. They had gotten far enough from the path they took when the Banthas pulled their skimmer. Drello may not be the most skilled wrangler, but he was a good tracker.

“We were here when she started talking funny, saying that she sees smoke when there’s nothing at all,” Drello pointed out the subtle indents of their skimmer and the Banthas’ hooves. He then angled his body to his easterly side, mimicking Irele’s position before she ran off. “And then she ran off there.”

“It’s strange,” Frelik added. “I heard her say the word ‘Home’ before she ran… but her house is in that direction.”

“Maybe the heat got to her?” Heeda theorized.

Frelik shook his head, “We didn’t even stay out that long, Heeda.”

“Come on, talking will take us nowhere!” Venee grunted. “Drello, what can you take from here?”

“We go to that direction,”

The skimmer hovered in a steady, leisurely pace; they were careful not to miss anything. The wind picked up as they got farther, a minor aftermath of the sandstorm in the middle of its calm; on his right, Frelik spotted something fluttering in the distance.

“Look! Drello turn us over there,”

Drello went straight ahead for that fluttering brown shape in the wind. Heeda picked it up and they all gathered around it.

“This is Irele’s scarf,” Venee mumbled pessimistically

“Then she must be close!” Heeda’s hopefulness contrasted the Twi’lek girl’s mood.

With only her lost scarf as a clue, it took the group all day trying to find her. The sunset beckoned them to stop. It never crossed their mind that they have to tell this to Owen and Beru, and they were scrambling over on what to tell them, how to say and explain it all, and that they’ll witness firsthand the wrath of Owen Lars—as well as his grief.

Reluctant, they drove their skimmer to the Lars homestead, with only a piece of Irele to bring home to her family. Up to now, not one of them have decided who will speak to Owen—neither do they have the courage to walk up to the front door.

They agreed that they go together, however, they hesitate to come an inch closer.

Eventually, Owen appeared out of the door.

“Oh, good thing you kids are back before dark.”

Silence from the children. Drello clutched onto Irele’s scarf so hard that it creased.

Owen’s eyes shifted left to right, counting in his mind, and it hit him.

“Where’s Irele?”

The teenagers flinched—shoulders flinched, sweaty fists clenched tighter, and knees were knocking.

Owen repeated the question until he spotted the scarf crumpled up into a ball.

“That’s Irele’s,” he pointed weakly at it. “Where is she!?”

“We… We’re sorry, but we lost her…”

“Lost her? Lost her!? Lost her how?!”

The raising of Owen’s voice attracted Beru—carrying Luke—to go outside. She finds Irele’s group being confronted by her husband.

“Owen, what’s going on here?”

“Irele didn’t come with them.”

“What?!” Beru gasped, her brown eyes widened.

Venee stepped forward, “We were on our way back, honest! But she started acting strange. She looked distraught about your house, she said she spotted smoke coming from here but…”

“What smoke? We were perfectly fine here all day!” Owen interrupted.

The Twi’lek girl continued, alternately looking to her friends. They vouched her every word with nervous yet truthful nods.

“That’s the thing, sir. What’s worse is… she ran into an incoming sandstorm. That’s when we lost her.”

Heeda stepped in Venee’s side, “It’s true what Venee said. We tried to look for her when the storm passed, honest! We just didn’t want to stay until dark because of the Tuskens.”

“We’re sorry,” Frelik said sadly and with a misplaced guilt. “But this is what we can only find of her.”

Drello unfurled the scarf and held it in both hands, presenting it to Irele’s brother. The young boy stepped forward to hand it over to the man who was hesitant to take it from his hands. Unable to accept that this was a rhyme to the fate of his late stepmother.

“No…” Owen’s rage melted into grief and distress. His heart wrenched. “Oh no…”

“Owen…”

Luke tugged the collar of Beru’s jacket and quietly asked, “Aunt Beru, where’s Irele?”

Unable to grasp how Irele’s friends had lost her, neither can Beru explain it to her nephew-in-law.

“Irele’s… Irele won’t be home for a while, dear.”

“Why?”

At a loss, Beru gave up looking for answers, there were no right ones after all.

“I don’t know, darling, I don’t know…”

As soon as Irele’s scarf came to Owen’s hands, he did not care anymore who would see him break down to tears. His knees melted, his back arched as he embraced a remnant of his dear sister—his remaining closest kin next to Luke—as he was fueled by the burning determination to find her.

Even if it meant he will have to repeat his father’s steps in finding Shmi all those years ago, then he would do the same for Irele. But for this night, the dunes heard his sobs and buried them underneath each and every grain of sand.

The next few days seemed desperate and hopeless. Owen had called up every men who were willing to come with him in search of Irele, her friends joined in as well. By the day, their numbers thinned out—majority giving up on the search as they could not find any other relevant leads except the scarf and the girl’s last known position.

“Give it a rest, Owen! The girl’s probably lost, or worse, fallen into a Sarlacc pit while in a heatstroke daze.”

“DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT ABOUT MY SISTER!” Owen swung with a finger pointed at the man who claimed such an assumption.

Knowing that this was not worth his time and energy anymore, the scout gave up and turned tail. Owen originally rounded up at least fifty men scattered across the outskirts of the major towns, even as far as the Dune Sea; though little by little, they all gave up on the search as well as Owen himself. Some with a heart apologized and wished him luck in finding the teenage girl.

“Oh, Irele…” Owen huffed, exhausted. “Where are you…?”

He was forced to stop the search just a few hours before sunset. He sent her friends home earlier. Upon returning to the house, he watched as Beru quickly walked out of the kitchen with a hopeful face—only for that hopefulness to fade away when she saw that her husband arrived alone.

She awkwardly dismissed herself and returned to the kitchen. Leaving Luke playing with a toy cruiser and shuttle on the table. Owen sat across him, the boy continued playing and reentered the little world he’s created with his ships, accompanied by little scaled figurines carved out of painted wood.

And from that day forward, something in Owen changed. In the following years, he would have grown old and sterner especially towards the remaining youngest family member—his nephew. Never mind if Luke would resent Owen’s ways in disciplining him or keeping him grounded, if it meant keeping him safe and preventing the same fate to happen to the boy, then he would do it.

He cannot afford to lose another part of his family.

[ericsonclan]

A Frosty Experience

Summary: Willy goes to the pool to hang out with Brody when he meets a new monster.

Word Count: 1810

Read on AO3:

Willy couldn’t wait to get to the swimming pool. He was planning on meeting up with Brody today who said she would bring along her swim team friend. The lagoon creature could feel his gills puffing up with excitement. It was always fun to meet a fellow monster who enjoyed swimming. According to Brody he was a cyclops who seemed to be rather shy yet warm. The lagoon creature ran down the hall, his webbed feet whacking against the floor when suddenly he noticed the PE teacher Javi happily walking forward with a cup of pudding in his hand. His tail happily wagged back and forth, practically swaying out of control when he took the first bite of pudding.

“Man, I fucking love pudding,” Javi’s ears twitched and his eyes wandered over towards Willy who skidded to a halt.

“Hey there! I totally wasn’t running in the hall!” Willy gave a toothy grin to the werewolf who tilted his head.

“Okay, good to know,” Javi gave a smile then followed the lagoon creature’s gaze towards the sign for the school pool. “Going for an afternoon swim?” The werewolf’s tail had returned to a regular pace.

“Yep! Gonna meet my friend, Brody.” Willy proudly declared, his gills puffing out.

“How about that, I know that monster. She’s quite the swimmer.” Javi leaned over and whispered conspiratorially   “Are you giving her a run for her money?”

“Yeah! She can barely keep up with my fast fins!”

Javi gave a small laugh. “Good, good. Well, I’ll leave you to it then. Careful not to run by the edge of the pool.”

“I will!” Willy sprinted off once more, completely forgetting the attempt to show that he wasn’t breaking the rule and running down the hall.

The werewolf laughed and shook his head good naturedly before he let the spoon wander back up to his mouth. “Mmmm, ridiculous!” Javi’s tail wagged energetically and soon the PE teacher’s focus was completely back on the pudding.

Willy continued to sprint to the pool and paused for a second when he didn’t see Brody already in the pool. He quickly shrugged it off and tossed off his jacket, taking his water containers off his wrists before kicking off his shoes. “The lagoon monster is back! Rahh rahh!” Willy’s webbed feet slapped against the floor and with a huge jump he cannonballed into the pool.

A few seconds later his head bobbed back up to the surface and he let out a series of happy fish sounds as his gills expanded then deflated. He lazily swam on his back and floated for a bit. It was nice to be in the water but it was way more fun with friends. If he had to guess where the selkie was, he’d bet she got distracted by a certain minotaur.

Willy kicked his feet in the water then dove down into its depths. Spinning around a few times he went from one end of the pool to the other. The lagoon creature popped back up to the surface and pushed back his wet hair. That's when he noticed her.

A girl with dark, stoic eyes was staring directly at him. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her right hand was busying playing with a smooth rock. She looked to be human. That was the lagoon creature’s guess until he noticed that frost was covering her finger tips. Small snowflake-like frost traveled up her wrists and was quickly hidden away underneath the mauve hoodie she was wearing. Was she a monster too? Willy thought about it for a second. He knew one thing for sure: she wasn't an abominable snowman. He had just learned about that monster today and she was definitely too cool and less hairy than they were.

“Hi there, I’m Willy,” The fish creature kicked his webbed feet and slowly moved forward. “What’s your name?”

The monster studied Willy's face for a moment before responding. “Allison.”

“Cool! Did you come here to check out the pool? It's super nice! You should come closer!” The fish creature smiled warmly which made the monster seriously consider the suggestion. Casually she moved forward and took off one of her shoes. The monster stared at the water, a sliver of fear dancing in her eyes for a split second before she dipped her toe in. As soon as she did so little ice sticks appeared in the water. Slowly they surfaced and gently spun round her foot.

“So. Cool!” Willy stared in awe and moved forward to examine the ice bits. The sudden movement and the fact that he was getting closer made Allison’s eyes grow large. Within seconds the entire pool was frozen solid with the energetic lagoon monster trapped waist deep a little ways from the edge.

“Sorry,” Allison whispered, her eyes falling and focusing on the floor.

“It's no big dea-”

Willy’s words were cut off when Brody let out a shocked gasp making the two young monsters look over to see the selkie in the doorway, her hand intertwined with Mitch’s. “Willy!” Brody ran forward with Mitch causing Allison to step back. Slowly the monster girl moved all the way into the corner, her eyes focused on the ground, flickering with guilt at what she had done.

“We gotta get you the fuck out of there!” Mitch let go of his girlfriend’s hand and angrily punched the ice but all it did was make his knuckles bruises. The minotaur hissed, his tail flicking back and forth in anger.

“Willy, can you feel your feet?” Brody looked over with concern toward the fish monster who seemed surprisingly calm about this.

“Nope, but it's okay. I’m sure Allison can just undo the ice!”

Willy’s confident words made Allison glance up, her eyes growing slightly larger. “I’ve only successfully done it twice,”

“Why did you freeze the pool then?!” Brody snapped, instantly regretting it when she saw Allison flinch.

“Hey, don't be mean to Allison,” Willy frowned over at the selkie.

“Don’t worry, Brodes. I’m breaking him out,” Mitch snorted and stepped out onto the ice. Stomping his hooves wildly he ran in circles around the lagoon monster who cheered him on.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I was talking with Minnie-” James froze in place when he entered the pool room. His hands hovered over the swim goggle that he was putting on his eye. His grip slipped and the goggle slapped against his face. “Ouch,” The cyclops shook his head.

“James, help me try to pull Willy out of the ice!” The selkie called back to her friend who jogged over. Both monsters grabbed an arm and pulled with all their might but it didn’t do anything.

“Oh, wait! I have the perfect plan! I’m gonna melt the shit out of that ice!” Mitch ran forward, slipping and sliding on the ice before disappearing out of the room.

“What's this perfect plan?” Brody called out to her boyfriend but he was already long gone. So she turned her attention back to ways she could break Willy out from the ice. Meanwhile James had noticed Allison in the corner and went over to check if she was alright.

“Hey there, I’m James. What's your name?”

The cyclops’ voice made the monster glance up before her eyes focused on her shoes. “Allison,” She continued to fidget with the rock in her hand, the frost quickly spreading across her fingers and coating its way up her covered arms.

James looked at the ice on her arms for a second. “Are you an ice maiden?”

Allison stopped playing with the rock for a second before resuming. “Yeah. Not good with my abilities though.”

“I’m sure if we take some deep, cleansing breaths and calm down you can unfreeze the pool,” The cyclops’ suggestion made Allison consider it for a moment then look over at the pool where Brody had grabbed the pool skimmer, using the handle and beginning to whack it against the ice.

“Stupid ice! Just. Break. Already!” The selkie tried again and again but it was no use, the pool skimmer metal handle was bent oddly and still the ice remained intact. Brody let out a frustrated groan. When she heard the sound of hooves grow louder.

“I got it, Brodes!” Mitch charged forward, a blowtorch proudly displayed in his hands.

Brody’s mouth fell open, slightly ajar at the plan her boyfriend had come up with. “Mitch, that's dangerous!” The selkie pulled her sealskin closer around her shoulders.

“I have to save Willy!” Mitch huffed, his tail flicking back and forth as he lit up the blow torch.

“You didn’t even bring the mask to protect your face!” Brody exclaimed in disbelief as the minotaur set the ice aflame with the blowtorch.

“Whoa! That's totally badass, Mitch!” Willy pumped both of his fists into the air. The flames sure were toasty and the lagoon monster could feel his skin drying up. Mitch soon noticed and immediately stopped the flamethrowering.

“Shit, sorry!”

“It's okay. Hey, Allison, do you wanna try to use your cool ice powers on the pool again?” Willy gave a toothy grin over at the ice maiden. Allison wasn’t sure why this monster had so much faith in her but it touched her heart. With a short nod she walked forward. Slowly she inhaled then exhaled, the air around her fogging up for a moment. The ice maiden’s eyes hardened and wind swirled gently around the ice covering the pool. Cracks and fractures appeared all around the ice making the fish monster watch in awe. Slowly the ice surrounding Willy became cracked enough.

“Hey! I can feel my legs!” The lagoon monster beamed. Brody and Mitch ran forward, each grabbed an arm and pulled. The ice groaned around Willy but eventually he was free from the frozen prison. He whacked his webbed feet against the tiled floor, a shiver running up his spine. “That. Was. So. Badass! You’re super cool!” Willy shot his hands up in the air and looked over at Allison who seemed confused why he was this impressed by her power.

“Nice tutu,” Mitch playfully nudged Willy who glanced down to see a small circle of ice was still stuck to his waist. Willy and Mitch laughed and the lagoon monster did a little spin when suddenly they heard some footsteps appear near the door.

After a few seconds Omid and Principal Christa walked into the pool area. The imp and the banshee’s eyes grew large at the sight of the pool still covered with ice that was now jagged and broken, the lagoon creature with an ice tutu and the selkie holding a damaged pool skimmer while a flamethrower lay right beside Mitch’s hooves. The group of monster students all shared a look. They were going to be in so much trouble.

[a-reasonforthoughts]

My thoughts on the Rise of Skywalker, because quarantine forced me to finally watch it. !!!!Spoilers!!!!!

Growing up, Star Wars was my childhood. My sisters and I read all the books (including the comics) and we packed the Essential Guides with us everywhere. Because for our deep love of the Extended universe, when the last few movies came out we had... mixed emotions. I didn’t even see the last movie when it came out after hearing some less than stellar reviews. So here’s my review, or rather my reactions to the Rise of Skywalker. (Yes, I actually sat down with paper and pen and watched this movie.) Title craw: The DIABOLICAL First Order.

‘The Emperor has returned.’ Wow, the are expecting us to go along with a lot aren’t they.

Cool. Kylo wrecking everything.

Yay, a planet that isn’t snow, desert, or forest. Hold on tight kids, they’re throwing us right into this one. We’re already at Palpatine’s house.   Ew. Whats with the tank?

Whoa eyes! What’s up with his lips? Can someone bring this fossil a drink?

Imperial March playing while a Star Destroyer rises in the back ground. Is this Vader’s old ship? Rey is “Not who we thought she is.” Thought she was “Nothing”?

Ew, what is Klaud, and why is he here?

Who are all these people on the Falcon? “How do we thank you?” “Win the war.” aren’t you all on the same team? Why do you need to thank him? Cool, another planet thats not snow, desert, or a forest. Never mind.

Oh great, Rey’s here.  Looks like the Lightsaber is fixed.  I know the names of a bunch of these plants! When Luke was training with the ball thing (Training remote) he was just trying to deflect the shots. Rey’s trying to take down the whole forest. 

You sure you want to destroy that thing Rey? There can’t be to many of them laying around Who are all these people? Why’s the Falcon on FIRE?! Since when is “Light-speed skip” a thing? Seriously. Who are all these people? I thought after the last movie there was only like, 10 of them left. Hey! It’s Merry from Lord of the Rings!

What’s this old orange doing here?

“Sith Way-finder” Sigh. Are Poe and Rey a “thing”? Are Finn and Rey a “thing”? Why’s everyone here but R2? There he is. Why did they not bring him?!

Now I’m watching a Planet of the Apes crossover.

That guy who was on the same team is dead now. His blood is clear so the rating doesn't go up. Well, Hux is certainly different.

Someone must have taken his hair gel because his hair was never this poofy before.   Is this a Holi Festival, or Burning man.

Why are we learning the name of this random kid? Rey just walked away from her, what was that? Yay! The force link is still there!

Kylo is giving off stalker vibes. It’s nice to see him growing into his role of Supreme Leader. Looks like everyone hates him. Wait- Who is this guy?! Why are they following a stranger!

It’s LANDO Oh, so Rey know’s who Lando is, but thought Luke was a myth. Makes sense. Boom. First order is here.

Lando: “My flying days are over.” Why? “Give Leia my love.” Ew.  Wait, why is Lando out here? Did Luke just leave him? He said he came here with him. Has the emotional issues of being abandoned by Luke led him to never fly again? Is this a parallel story to Rey’s abandonment? What’s the motive here movie!  They made it even harder for these Storm Troopers to see out of those helmets.

3PO is getting a lot of lines. Rey *is distracted* Ship *Blows up*  Now they have sinking sand. WAS THAT ALMOST A CONFESSION?! This guy just says, “The Falcon is not responding.” when asked, and they’re like “Don’t be such a downer!” Oh yay, they survived.  Kay, we’re just brushing over Finn’s almost confession. I’m sure they’ll come back to that later. *Cough* Okay, that flashlight bit was funny. 

How do you know that’s the guy you’re looking for? That could be anybody’s skeleton! How’d they find a knife that neither Luke, or Lando (who might have been here for 20 years) could find!  Rey’s making friend’s with the basilisk.

She just transferred some of her life force to the snake! Why!? This old ship they found in the desert still works. “Chewie, tell Rey we got to go!” Why can’t you do it? You’re not doing anything. Axe. Here comes lover boy.  How to Breathe, the movie, by Rey.

Trailer shot.

Was he just gonna run her over?

Cool, she’s pulling the ship out of the sky. Uh oh, helmet’s off, there goes her focus.

Now they’re playing tug-a-war with the ship. It’s the light saber fight all over again.  Whoa!!! She juST LIGHTING’D THE SHIP! Kylo Looked freaked out for a second! She just told Finn she had a vision of her and Kylo together, and he looks like he’s gonna cry. 3PO tells them how horrible and dangerous it is to override a droid’s programming. “Let’s do that!” That droid looks like a yoga wheel and a hairdryer. 

Rey to the new droid: “Someone treated him badly. It’s alright, you’re with us now.” Yeah, just don’t watch what we’re about to do to this other droid.

Looks like we’re adding another girl to this love triangle (hexagon?) She’s not supposed to be a Mandalorian is she. (So help me-) I hate you and I’m going to turn you in *Hit’s her over the head and pulls out a lightsaber* Okay, lets go.

Why they so mad at Poe for being a smuggler?  Wow. They are forcing C-3PO to do this. Backup his memory to the hairdryer! It’s got to have a reason for being here! C-3PO “Oh! I just had an idea of something else we could try-” ZAP!  ...Was that supposed to be funny? These writers need to learn what humor is, and when to use it. Why are we focusing on Poe and his old girlfriend the Power Ranger? Wah! What’s up with 3PO’s eye’s? Is he a Sith droid now? Why does he have that function?!

Rey, you’re boyfriend’s here. They wiped 3PO’s memory and he doesn’t know who anyone is, but he’s still polite. Poe angrily points “That’s gonna be a problem!” Our heroes ladies and gentleman. I hope the First Order just blast them. That Admiral’s badge just let them in? Like no one reported that missing?? Wiped 3PO’s memory and they’re getting the dagger anyway. Worst rescue ever. 

Vaders Helmet has had a hard life. Rey has a vision in every scene she's in.

More ‘Rey’s family history’ with Kylo “Tell me where you are,” She’s in your room dude.

R.IP. Vader Helmet

That Stormtrooper behind Kylo must be so confused.  *Sees helmet, breaks link*  “She’s in my quarters!” Told you so. Why is Hux the spy? When did this happen? What does he think the outcome of this will be?

3PO just wandering the halls with a crossbow. 

“You are a Palpatine.” Wanna be a Solo? Is this like his fourth proposal? OooooOOOOooo, that was cool! Kylo standing in the blast of the Falcon’s engines was a moment we needed!

Yikes! They took out Hux fast! They didn’t want to question him or anything? No?

The Death Star was blasted to smithereens, why is it here? How is it here?

They made that dagger to line up with the wreckage? I’m pretty sure things that are constantly beat by the ocean will move or erode over time. Who even made that? What was the purpose?!

Yay, another scavenger  Who’s also a ex-Stormtrooper, because why not.

That’s a horse covered in a rug. Rey’s out trying to kill herself again.

“There’s another Skimmer!” Wonder who that is. He is literally following her to the ends of the galaxy. 

Wait- The throne rooms still in one piece?! The chair and everything?!!! Dark Rey- YIKES! TEETH

I thought he stopped the holocron with his foot, I was really surprised when fingers formed and he picked it up.

Kylo acting so cool as she’s trying to slash him to ribbons. I see Merry again! Wait- What’s Leia got to do? And why does Maz know? They’ve never explained what this strange orange is and what she can do.

Finn’s in deep- Wait how'd he get out here?????

Leia don’t distract your son while he’s fighting for his life!

SEE!!!!!!!

“I wanted to take your hand. Ben’s hand.” You think he’s going to leave you alone after that?

Why is Rey just a total mess in every movie.

Chewie mourning Leia is a good touch. It’s nice to see the reaction of someone who ACTUALLY knew her.  Whoa! They got Harrison Ford to come back! That must have taken a lot of bribery (or blackmail).

Has almost dying given Kylo/Ben the power to see non-Force user ghost, or is he just going nuts? So this is just a rehash of Han’s death scene. 

Aw, he called him Dad- Hey don’t throw that away, you need that!

He’s nuts. Those red helmets look stupid. Aaaaand it’s the Death Star again Merry in the background! Why’d they make Poe the General? Lando finally got off that planet 

“General.” “General.” She’s burning his ship. Good luck Kylo/Ben.

You know how hot that fire has got to be to burn metal “A Jedi weapon should be treated with more respect.” You brat.

Why did he have Leia’s lightsaber here? “...it would be picked up again, by someone who would finish her journey.” Oooookay, but why not just have her take Luke’s old Saber? It’s gotta be laying around here somewhere.

I know it’s symbolic and all that he’s raising the x-wing, but there’s no way that thing still works.

Alright, 3PO’s memories are back. Why’d we have to go through all that? I spy Merry again! How does Poe know all this stuff about Exogol? He’s just a fountain of information over here!

“Now we take the war to them!” That’s literally what you’ve done every movie ever No one is questioning how Lando got here. Isn’t this a secret base? *Dr. Evil voice* ONE MILLION STAR DESTROYERS 

Who even wrote this story line? Finn’s going with his gut and everyones just going along with it. Not like you could all die or anything. They brought the rug horses with them

How are they breathing in space!? Those red troopers still look stupid.

What’s this crowd chanting? Are they speaking Parseltoungue?  “I never wanted you dead.” That’s why I told Kylo Ren to kill you.

Hang on- his plan is ‘You be the empress, and I’ll just possess you. Grandaughter.’  EW. Why would she want that? How is that a tempting offer? Someone’s gone senile. Direct quote: “I got to go do something!” “I’m coming with you!” Why do these people get attached so quickly?! 

“Luke was saved by his father. The only family you have here is me.” Yeah, but I got a boyfriend who follows me everywhere!

Ben runs and jumps: “Ow.” We finally get to see the Knight’s of Ren in action! (Where have they been this whole time?) “Once you kill me I shall become apart of you!” So she could just, not kill him. Right? Oh yeah, here we go, now we got a showdown!

Well, that was anticlimactic 

WHAT IS HAPPENING Poe just realized he's the worst General ever.

YO. Don’t tell your troops there is no hope! What is wrong with you??? Why isn't Lando the General? He is a lot more qualified!!!

Wait a minute!! Where were all these people when LEIA ORGANA called for help????

Wedge Antilles!!!!!! So all the life force sucking was just so Palpatine could up grade his outfit? *Flings Ben into a pit* Palpatine is so done with the Skywalkers Hey, I know these voices!!!! Aaaaand now he wants to kill her. So whats our big moment? TWO lightsabers! 

Why did the make that the big epic moment? Why didn’t they have Ben run over and they do it together- It would have been perfect for his story arch! Rey: “And we” Together: “are all the Jedi!” Now she's dying. Why? Not even the writers know So Finn’s Force sensitive. Cool I guess? This is a really touching moment for them, even more so if they did anything other than fight this entire movie!

This kinda feels out of nowhere

I’M SO MAD RIGHT NOW

NOW SHE’S SMILING AND FINE. HE JUST DIED Merry’s here again and I can’t even be happy about it Now Finn has to chose between Rose and the new girl  Poe’s trying to start something with his Power Ranger old flame, and she's like “Not a chance.” Now everything’s all happy like BEN DIDN’T JUST DIE. ARE WE NOT GOING TO ADDRESS THIS?????????? Oh hey, it’s the Lars farm. Nobody else moved in after all these years? Now she's burying the Skywalker lightsabers in the place they all hated.

WHY IS BEN NOT HERE!!!!!!! HE WAS A MAIN CHARACTER FOR THESE MOVIES AND THEY DID HIM DIRTY!!!!!!

Well I guess they had to wrap this mess up somehow

[bloomins]

30 Questions: GW2 Edition

This can be done in many different ways: get asks by your followers, pick some questions for yourself, answer the whole damn thing at once, etc!

You can draw, write (to explain in details or not) or just post screenshots! If you miss one it’s totally okay, whether it’s by lack of answer or time. Have fun!

Wasn’t tagged, but it looked super fun so I’m gonna do it. :3 

1: Favorite living world season? Living World Season 4 was amazing. It awakened (hah...) my love of Palawa Joko and all things Elonian, and also dove into some really amazing, top notch story content. Boy howdy. Season 4 had me REELING on multiple occasions (hello ending of episode 3 and 5. JEEZ.). 

2: Favorite expansion? Path of Fire. Just... Just beautiful. I still park myself in Vabbi just to enjoy the scenery and culture of the place.

3: Favorite soundtrack? Path of Fire’s Soundtrack is so good. I’m a fan of non-Western music, so it’s got some different sounds that I enjoy.

4: First profession you played? Engineer. It was new compared to GW1, plus it gave me some SERIOUS steampunk vibes.

5: First race you played?  Human. I still got my girl Torris Brookes. <3 

6: Favorite Destiny’s Edge character? Zojja (RIP). She’s so bitter and petty, so she creates some good (even if sometimes unnecessary) conflict.

7: Favorite Dragon’s Watch character? Taimi. I really do enjoy her dialogue, and I’ve been missing her as of late.

8: Favorite Elder Dragon? Kralkatorrik actually brought me to tears when I saw him the first time. Magnificent. 

9: Best boss fight (story)? Palawa Joko. :3c

10: Best boss fight (fractal)? Oh, that’s tough. Hm... I do like Arrk’s final Shattered Observatory fight quite a lot. 

11: Best boss fight (raid)? Really, I enjoy all of wing 1. Sabetha is a BITCH, though. 12: PvE or PvP or RP? PvE. I have PVP achievements on my nearly completed panel and I hate it. They’re the only reason I venture into PVP at all.

13: Favorite canon couple? Jory and Kas. I wish nothing but the best for them.

14: Favorite fanon/self made couple? I don’t really have one, tbh... Uh, anyone’s characters x canon characters? My OC Rin hangs out with her djinn buddy Nefes a lot, but that’s not really a couple... *squints*

15: Favorite quote? “Gross” -   Bonnie Kunderah, Apprentice to Snargle Goldclaw. And also “WHAT??” *incoherent crashing and banging and scrambling* “Did you say chak?!” - Gorrik

16: Most emotional cinematic? Yeah, gotta go with Trahearne. We had to put my cat down 3 days before I played that instance due to a terminal illness, so that hurt extra hard.

17: Favorite VA? OH, I CAN’T CHOOSE, they all do so well!

18: Post a fun screenshot! 

Was grabbing me a good hand reference for  R E A S O N S.

19: Post a landscape screenshot!

Was taking more refs for  R E A S O N S.

21: Favorite mount skin (for every mount you have)?

Raptor: Canyon Spiketail (This I use for my sylvari, Deorsa)

Springer: Kourna Jackrabbit (Long boi for my long gurl, Rin)

Skimmer: Spined Longtail

Jackal: Fulgurite Ridgeback

Griffon: Northern Feather Wing

Beetle: Synergetics Gyrocycle (sorry Petey, I still love you)

Warclaw: I only have the default skin for this, but Vigilant Saberclaw is cool.

Skyscale: Shimmerwing is cool, but LISTEN. Bearded dragon is just so cute. 

22: Favorite weapon? There’s so many cool ones.I really love shields (Chrono main forever ago). I prefer more realistic, less flashy weapons. For RP purposes.~

23: Favorite gear set? Marauder shoulders and pants with bucaneer coat and privateer boots. I would wear this in real life if i could, I  think it’s beautiful. 

24: Favorite title? The Eternal (that BITCH, Sabetha).

25: Something you worked really hard to get? H.O.P.E. My first ever legendary. When I learned that I didn’t just *get* it after completing T4, it almost drove me to taking a break from the game. I might’ve cried. I became so poor after finishing T4, I didn’t have enough money to waypoint.

26: Favorite GW2 Youtuber / GW2 related video? I love me some Wooden Potatoes and KROOF Gaming. 

27: Most used miniature? Palawa Joko. :3c He follows my girl, Rin Smallwood, around.

28: Most used novelty? My skyscale lounging chair, or the Desert King chair. Usually both accidentally.

29: Number of achievements points? Currently? 20,983. Gonna get 22/22 of No Quarter tomorrow.

30: Something you’d love to see in GW2? Call me terrible, but more Joko content on Halloween. Still think it was a missed opportunity to have Aurene barfed up his head. We could have gotten a new legendary focus that wouldn’t shut up.

@mindlessabnormity​ @diesvitae​ @brahameirsson​ @pr-gw2​ and anyone else who happens to see this and wants to do it. :) If you haven’t done it already. 

[stormhawksplanb]

Storm Hawks Fanfiction: Plan “B”

https://myhushhushdarling.tumblr.com/PlanB

Chapter 7

For those who are on Mobile, Check out the #planb for all the chapters and related content!

The next few hours were quick. The terra was cleaned up, and the art exhibition was cancelled. No winners, no anything. The damage caused by the attack was surprisingly small. Houses were destroyed, and the ground we walked on had dips and small shallow craters. No one was badly hurt which was the good part.

It took a while, but when we accounted for everyone, including the COGA members, The Storm Hawks had taken off on their skimmers to search the terra for any other invaders. Leaving me, Stork, and Junko to deal with the wreckage. Usually that would be no problem, but I don't think any of them want to talk to me after my "This was my war long before any of yours" comment. But like with any negative situation, I try and correct it. After all, it'll make things easier if I at least try.

"Junko! There you are erm- doing... What are you doing?"

I caught him at the center of the town, pulling out the broken canvases and left over art utensils.

"Well the building structures are useless now. But a lot of the art work and other stuff is only partially damaged... So you know..."

My heart sank a little bit. He wouldn't even look me in the eyes. Was what I said that bad?

"Hey uhm. I just wanted to try and apologize for my behavior earlier. I shouldn't have said what I said..."

Junko turned to me, his head tilted. Then all at once it was like a lightbulb went off in his head.

"Oh that! No, yeah, it's fine. We've all heard worse. No need to apologise."

I was almost dumb founded by his reaction. He seemed so mature about it. Then it dawned on me.

"So... How long have you been a storm hawk?"

"Oh uh, since I was 15... I'm 16, going on 17 now..."

"Oh... That makes sense."

Despite how well put together the team was, I seem to have forgotten that they were in the same predicament I used to be in. They were all dealing with the carnage of a war they never started. My only other reaction was to give a quick nod goodbye and head to my next target. Why I did that I don't know.

Upon seeing the condition of the Condor, I cringed. There were scratches on the outer material, burn marks on the paint job, and some cracks in the glass. Glued to the hip of the Condor was Stork, working away at some patch work. Taking a deep breath I stood beside him, and hesitated to tap his shoulder. I jumped a bit when he grunted and glared at me.

"Heeey, do you need any help with repairs? I uh, I know how to paint and I can even get out most of those burn marks!"

All he did was turn away from me, and scoff. I gave an audible groan, wanting to get this done and over as quick as possible.

"Ok! Fine! I'm sorry for being a brat earlier, and I'm sorry for getting in everyone's way! But you can't just keep on ignoring me like this-"

I was silenced by a paintbrush being swung out in front of my face.

I felt embarrassed as the heat stroked my cheeks. He still didn't look at me, as I took the paintbrush and started working beside him. Something tells me he didn't really care about what I said. Or what I did...

After a few hours of hard labor, and helping Junko find the owners to the left over artworks, consoling some children who were lost on their way to the bathroom, the rest of the Storm Hawks squadron came back to the terra. All of their faces covered in mud and dirt. I held back a Chuckle since none of them were very pleased with their new look.

Soon enough the whole Terra surrounded us, hoping to hear about what had happened to them. Aerrow had looked away from the bombardment of "Are we safe?" And "Who was that?!". He Seemed, uneasy.

"It was... Cyclonians..."

Aerrow seemed defeated for a split second, and he faced the crowd again when the murmuring and disbelief subsided.

"It's not Master Cyclonian herself. But one of her lackeys had taken her thrown… Recently."

I locked eyes with Piper and muttered Ravess’ name in hopes the current spectators didn’t notice. She nodded at me, acknowledging my hypothesis to be true, and Aerrow continued.

"I know today was supposed to be important to everyone here. It was supposed to be a step towards our recovery as Atmosians... But today..."

It was like he froze on everyone. We all just stared at each other. My brain kicked in and I stood beside him, a sorrowful look across my face replaced with a sincere smile, and he gave me a grateful one in return.

"Today is the day we prove to everyone who dares question us. And that we now keep what was once taken by the Cyclonians."

It was a short statement, but not false. The crowd cheered and I looked back at Aerrow. A small smirk and a nod my way as another thanks.

Eventually, this part of the Terra was cleared out. Thankfully some neighboring Sky Knights arranged for people to stay at their own Terras while the properly qualified went to work to restore buildings. I had other plans. One of which was to try my shot again at convincing Aerrow to let me bum a ride to my home terra.

Walking on the drop down ramp to the condor, I more or less physically bumped into Piper. Arising a small squeak from her.

"Oh! Sorry!"

I shook my head at her, and playfully rolled my eyes.

"It's fine. It's not like you snapped my arm in half. What's up?"

She rolled her eyes back at me.

"oh you know. Navigating maps, saving a whole Terra, just normal Sky Squad stuff. And what are you up too?"

I shrugged at her, not wanting to disclose to her that I was looking for Aerrow.

"Well if you're not doing anything, could you help me with something?"

"Yeah, what do you need?"

I followed her off and away from the ship as she explained her plans for the terra.

"Well, the unexpected Bombing left us vulnerable, and out in the open. So we’re setting up a temporary Shock Wave Crystal tower. I'm not sure of how aware you are about the war against Master Cyclonis, but-"

She gave a heavy grunt as she moved a box of unmarked Crystals from a table to the floor, then taking out an old map.

"Terra Atmosia had a Sky knight named Carver who betrayed them, and joined an alliance with Master Cyclonis herself."

I grunted and scrunched my face up at the name, Carver. It rang a bell, but I decided not to press on about him. And Judging by her attitude, I'm guessing no one's a real fan. Least, not anymore.

“That also means the Terra is still without a Sky Knight. What's left of his squad still helps out, but it's hard to have a Squad without a leader."

"Why is that?"

She gave me a slight judgmental face. Shaking it off and smiling at me, deciding to humor me anyway.

"Without a Sky Knight or some kind of leader, the Squadron loses their title and rights to their Squad name. The Sky Knight is responsible for not just leading the team. They keep it together, and take responsibility for the whole squad. Those rules can be bent and flexed but the concept stays the same."

I gave a quiet "Ah" in response. It made sense. Something still bugged me though.

"If that's true, Then why don't they just recruit a new Sky Knight?"

I got the idea of what she needed help with, which was moving crates and sorting maps. My mother showed me how to organize maps, so I could do that much.

"It's not a hard thing, but because of Carver's stunt, people are scared to be the new Sky knight. It's an old wound. Some Atmosians have gone as far as to threaten the Ex-Squad members. Some people think that the whole team was involved, and carver freezing his crew mates was just for show."

"Ew."

Piper let out a huffy laugh, shaking her head.

"Storks right. You really are different from other Sky Knights. Speaking of which. Can I ask you something?"

I nodded my head, finishing up on the last map. It looked like they were creating blueprints for new energy launchers, and a radio scrambler.

"What Terra are you the Sky Knight of? Stork said you mentioned something about being a sky knight yourself."

I gave a deep sigh, making sure to look her in the face. The obvious tone mocking Stork, all whilst hinting at her curiosity.

"It wasn't my choice..."

"Is it ever really a choice?"

I gave another sigh, (Just now realizing that I’ve developed a nasty habit of doing that).

"I was designated to become a Sky Knight when I was 10. I live on Terra Argonia. I was actually hoping that you guys could swing round that way and drop me off..."

"Terra Argonia! But that Terra was swept out clean by the Original Cyclonis! That was YEARS ago."

I chuckled at her.

"Terra Argonia is home to the Nova Crystal. Why do you think they call me Nova?"

Piper was looking at me in amazement, blinking rapidly. I could tell right off the bat she was going to mention Dusty.

"That means you're the daughter of the infamous Dusty of the Raving Vultures!"

Yup. There it is.

"Ta da? I think. I don't know why you're so impressed. He's infamous for a reason."

"I know, I know! But do you know why?"

I felt an old wound open up in my chest. My face must have given away my anger because Piper was quick to apologize.

"O-oh. Right. You'd know. Can I ask what happened?"

Before I could speak a hand was placed on my shoulder. Arrow had joined us in our little circle. His face was serious.

"You're gonna have to hold that thought. We're receiving a stress signal from Terra Rex. We might also have a lead on where Ravess is hiding currently".

[survivorwildwest]

Episode 11 - You’re Never Alone in This Game

Lit by the full moon, a coyote howls in the distance as the surviving members of Cheyenne tie their horses up after voting Ben out at the last tribal council. Those on the outs congratulate those who executed the plan.

The next morning, Colby returns with tree mail. “It’s heavier than usual,” he tells them while opening the envelope. Inside, he finds nine smaller, sealed envelopes, each bearing one person’s name. He passes them out and they open them to find Five Hundred US Dollars.

“It’s the auction,” Wendy screams.

“We never got to do the auction,” Wardog says.

“It’s great,” Jerri says.

“You’re gonna love it,” Kass tells him.

Somewhere in the Mojave Desert, a flame skimmer buzzes over some brush.

At high noon, the nine remaining survivors meet Jeff for the auction. Wendy hops up and down as they walk in.

“Welcome,” Jeff says, “to the Survivor Auction. In the recent iterations of the Survivor Auction, there have been opportunities to bid for advantages in the game. So, people would hoard their money, trying to game the auction, waiting for an advantage. That defeats the purpose of the auction. This is your money to do with what you choose. If an item looks good, bid on it. If not, let someone else bid on it. Simple as that. I am not going to present you with an advantage at the auction. Are you ready for the first item?”

Everyone nods their heads and cheers.

“First item is a classic, PB and J.”

“Twenty Dollars,” Jerri says.

“Forty,” Wardog says.

“Sixty,” Wendy exclaims.

“Eighty,” Wardog shouts, waving eighty dollars in the air.

“Going once, twice, sold to Wardog for eighty dollars.”

Wardog shouts and trots up to the sandwich and Jeff’s delighted smirk.

“Eighty dollars for a PB&J sandwich,” Jeff says.

“Worf evvy pehhy,” Wardog assures him with a mouth full of peanut butter.

“Next item, another American classic, a glass of Diet Coke, steak fries and a cheeseburger.”

“One hundred,” Bi shouts.

“One twenty,” Michaela says.

“One sixty,” Colby offers.

“Two Hundred,” Bi asserts.

“Going once, twice, three times! Sold to Bi for two hundred dollars,” Jeff says, pointing his gavel at Bi.

“Up next... I’m going to keep it covered,” Jeff says with a self-satisfied grin, “bidding starts at Twenty Dollars.”

“I’ll do 20,” Colby says.

“Forty,” Kass bids.

“Sixty,” Jerri says.

“Eighty,” Lauren bids.

“One hundred,” Colby says.

“Going once, twice… sold to Colby Donaldson for one hundred dollars.”

Colby makes his way to Jeff’s stand where he holds the cover over Colby’s item.

“What did I get Jeff?”

“A favorite,” he says, uncovering a warm bowl of beans.

“Beans?”

“Beans.”

“Alright,” Colby says as he returns to his seat with the overflowing bowl of beans.

“For our next item, if you need that extra little oomph, how about a protein shake?”

“Twenty dollars,” Wendy says.

“Forty,” Ken says.

“Sixty,” Lauren bids.

“Eighty,” Ken says.

“120,” Wendy says.

“140,” Ken ups.

“160,” Wendy bids.

“180,” Ken says without objection.

“Protein Shake sold to Ken for one hundred eighty dollars.”

Ken wraps his hand around the cold glass. The condensation evaporates away by the touch of his warm hands. As he walks, Ken wraps his lips around the straw and sucks slowly so he can savor what he holds. He lets out a satisfied moan after swallowing.

“The next item up for sale is another American Classic, Steak and Potatoes.”

Colby’s jaw drops when he sees the steak. Beans drip off his lips and splash back into the bowl.

“200,” Michaela bids.

“220,” Colby says, setting his beans aside.

“240,” Kass says.

“400,” Colby bids.

“420,” Wardog bids before giggling.

“440,” Jerri outbids him and everyone else.

“Going once, twice, Sold! to Jerri for 440,” Jeff says.

Jerri takes her steak and potatoes back to her seat. She cuts a big piece of steak and a scoop of potatoes, turns to Colby and, with a signature smirk says, “I’m so sorry I can’t share.”

“The next item... will remain covered.”

“20 dollars,” Kass starts.

“Forty,” Michaela says.

“Sixty,” Lauren says.

“Eighty,” Wendy bids.

“One hundred,” Kass says.

“One twenty,” Wardog bids.

“One forty,” Kass says.

“One sixty,” Michaela bids again.

“Two,” Jerri bids.

“Two twenty,” Kass says.

“Three hundred,” Lauren bids.

“Three hundred to Lauren going once, twice--

“Three twenty,” Kass bids.

“Three forty,” Lauren bids.

“Three sixty,” Colby bids.

“Four,” Kass says.

“Four twenty,” Wardog bids, snickering again.

“Four forty,” Kass bids.

“Going once, twice, sold to Kass for four forty.”

Kass proudly walks to Jeff. He unveils her item. Kass looks at the plate then back at him in disbelief, “Really?”

“For four hundred and forty dollars, you bought a glass of water and a bowl of rice.”

The disgruntled Kass returns to her seat.

“Up next is a nice, big, warm, tasty, greasy slice of cheese pizza.”

“Cheese??” Wendy asks.

“That’s right,” Jeff tells her.

“One hundred,” she bids.

“120,” Lauren says.

“Three hundred,” Michaela bids to a shocked Jeff Probst.

“Three twenty,” Lauren bids.

“Four,” Michaela says.

“420,” Wardog bids again but laughing less this time.

“440,” Michaela bids.

No one outbids her. Jeff bangs her gavel and Michaela walks up to Jeff’s stand.

“Now, you have a choice. For four hundred and forty dollars, you can take this piece of cheese pizza.”

“I heard it’s greasy and warm,” she says.

“Or,” Jeff continues, pulling out a covered item, “you can trade it for this.”

“Nah,” Michaela tells him.

“Won’t even consider it?”

“No way. You always put the bad shit under the covers.”

“Fair enough,” Jeff says as he hands Michaela her slice of pizza.

“Next item is what Michaela passed up.”

“What is it,” Wardog asks.

“Remaining covered,” Jeff tells him.

“One hundred,” Wardog bids.

“One twenty,” Colby says.

“One forty,” Lauren bids.

“One sixty,” Wendy bids.

“Three sixty,” Lauren says, trying to win as soon as possible.

“Three eighty,” Wendy says.

“Four forty,” Lauren bids

“Four sixty,” Wendy bids.

“Four eighty,” Lauren bids, looking over at Wendy.

Wendy doesn’t bid again.

“Sold to Lauren for four hundred and eighty dollars.”

Lauren makes her way to Jeff to retrieve the covered item.

“What do you think it is,” Jeff asks.

“Well, I hope it’s the rest of Michaela’s pizza.”

Jeff removes the cover to reveal exactly that.

“Are you gonna be able to eat all that,” Jeff asks as Lauren looks over the pizza.

“You’d be surprised how much I can fit inside me,” she tells him before returning to her seat next to Ken.

“Up next,” Jeff tells them, “A rich slice of chocolate cake, a bowl of ice cream and... a letter from home.”

“Five hundred,” Wendy shouts before anyone else can get in a lower bid and prolong the inevitable.

Jeff bangs his gavel and she runs down to him.

“Now, Wendy, you have a choice. You can take the desert and read the letter from home for as long as you like or you can volunteer to stay the night in jail and,” Jeff says, pulling something from behind his stand, “get more rice and beans for your tribe.”

“Oh, the rice and beans,” she tells him without hesitation.

“Just, like that. You’re willing to exile yourself from the rest of your tribe at Final Nine?”

With their sloppy fingers and full mouths, the whole tribe rallies Wendy to take the chocolate cake and treat herself. But, she protests.

“All this food here is nice, Jeff, but everybody’s gonna be hungry again soon. I don’t mind spending the night alone if it means my tribe gets to eat!”

“With that,” Jeff says, banging his gavel, “the auction is over.”

Everyone gets up from their seats and hugs Wendy, some of them giving her whatever leftovers they can. Jeff tells them Wendy will return for the next immunity challenge. They get back on their horses and ride off. Jerri holds the reins of Wendy’s quarter horse as it rides back to town without her.

Somewhere in the Mojave Desert, a coyote runs up a rock.

The tribe returns to town without Wendy. They drop their things in the saloon and Jerri pours eight glasses of old whiskey.

“That was really nice of Wendy,” Lauren says.

“Yeah, she didn’t have to do that,” Wardog says as he takes a seat at the piano.

“I’m not complaining,” Kass comments.

Wardog starts playing a simple, familiar tune.

“Wardog,” Colby says, “What are you doing?”

“It’s the only song I know.”

“Taps is the only song you know,” Kass asks.

“I mean, yeah. It’s easy.”

“It’s a bummer,” Kass tells him.

In the sheriff’s office, Wendy has been locked in one of the two jail cells. She’s stuck in the same cell Wardog was, as the other’s bed was dismantled by Bi. Wendy spends the first couple hours just napping.

“When I got there,” she explains in a talking head, “I realized, I was all alone. You’re NEVER alone in this game. So... I took a nap! Then, when I woke up, I had all this ENERGY! So, I started looking for an advantage. And I found,” she lifts her hands, holding two screwdrivers and two rolls of twine, “screwdrivers and twine! That is not an advantage!!”

Wendy’s narration of her exile experience is played over a montage of her finding the same toolbox Bi did and its contents. Wendy looks at the screwdriver, then across to the other cell, then back at her own.

“And then,” her excited talking head continues, “I saw the other bed had been disassembled and turned into like an arm thingy.” She impersonates the wood slabs Bi had put together using her own human arms. 

She unscrews the bed and ties the pieces together to make an arm as long as the one reaching from the other cell. She follows the other arm in the other cell to see that it reaches around the corner and to the front door. Wendy leans out of her cell as far as she can to see, next to the front door, a key hook with a key ring hanging from it.

“Oh!” Wendy exclaims.

She picks her own wooden pole from the ground with one arm and grips the other around one of the cell’s bars. She pulls herself up and rests her feet on the center bar of the cell. She slips one shoulder through the bars, then two. With a clearer vantage point, she aims the pole, hooks the keys, and slides them into her hand.

“Ahhh! Yaaay,” she yells. She looks at the ground, then the bar she’s standing atop, and asks herself, “Okay, how do I get down?”

Somewhere in the Mojave Desert, a desert tortoise munches on a single flower growing from a small cactus.

Colby sits alone with his elbows on his knees and looks over the far reaching desert on the hills outside of town.

“This game has been a big part of my life,” he says in a talking head, “I’ve tried and I’ve tried and I’ve tried. You’d think I would have had my fill, but something keeps pulling me back.” The hero music builds as he speaks of his twenty year journey.

“I thought I was done after last time,” he continues, “but I’m still fighting for something. Honestly, after all this time,” he fights back tears, “I just… I think I just need that win.”

The hero music slowly fades away when a long shadow finds its way next to Colby. Kass takes a seat next to him.

“Hey Colby,” she says in a friendly tone.

“Howdy,” he says.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Here I am,” he says, opening his arms and smiling.

“I know Jerri is becoming close with Wendy.”

“Yes.”

“You’re close with Michaela.”

“Sure.”

“We’re getting close to the end, as you know. Are you and Michaela closer or are you and Jerri?”

Colby thinks it over.

“And, if you think Jerri and Wendy are closer than you and Michaela, where does that leave you with Jerri?”

“Jerri’s been by my side for 20 years. Are you trying to make me suspicious of her?”

“Jerri doesn’t need you.”

“I know that.”

“Do you think Wendy needs Jerri?”

“No, I think she’s doing fine on her own. I don’t think Jerri is the reason she’s made it this far if that’s what you’re implying.”

“No, I think Wendy’s played a great game thus far,” she lets her words hang in the air, before climbing aboard her brown quarter horse and leaving Colby alone to think.

Back in town, Lauren finds Jerri and Michaela sitting around the campfire, roasting a rabbit.

“Hey y’all,” Lauren says.

“Sit, sista,” Michaela tells her and she does.

“I’m here to ask for your vote,” Lauren says, “You know how badly I want to get Wardog out. Between the three of us, Ken, Wendy and Colby, we’ve got the numbers, easy.”

“I can vote Wardog,” Michaela says.

“That works for me,” Jerri agrees.

Somewhere in the Mojave Desert, a desert star grows through a pile of small rocks.

Wendy continues her journey in jail. She’s made her way down from the steel rods she had climbed to retrieve the keys. She’s found the key to unlock her cell, which she does with great elation. She looks over the key ring and determines one of the keys is for the other cell. But, the third, smaller key is still a mystery. She looks around the sheriff’s office for a lock that looks like it would fit the key. She tries the door to no avail. She then notices the fallen paper on the ground next to the front desk. Looking at the newspaper sprawled across the floor, her eyes come across a safe. She throws the chair out of the way and crawls under the desk, tries the key, and opens the safe.

“Oh my god,” she squeals.

Reaching inside the safe, Wendy pulls out a tube, sealed with a four digit combination lock.

“Dammit,” she groans, pressing the end of the tube into her forehead. She sits cross legged on the floor in the sheriff’s office. Feeling defeated, she slowly leans back until she’s laying on the ground. She drops her head to the side and starts reading the middle of a sentence in a random article.

“I was laying on the ground,” Wendy explains in a talking head, “and I started reading this article just, ya know, because what ELSE am I doing? And it was about something called the Nez Perce War. So, I started looking through the article for a date! I learned it happened between June and October, 1877. So, I put 1-8-7-7 into the combination and it worked!”

Wendy reaches into the now open compartment and pulls out an envelope sealed with wax. Wendy breaks it open and reads the contents. A single page reads, “Chief Joseph.”

“Wait, Chief Joseph,” she says, flipping through the newspaper again looking for a specific article.

Somewhere under the Mojave Desert sky, a tortoise lays to rest for the night.

The next morning, Colby makes his way to tree mail with Michaela and Ken. The long hike over the desert sand each morning is tiring but it gives Colby time to talk to people, so he doesn’t mind it.

“What do we think of Wendy,” Colby asks.

“She’s cool,” Ken says.

“Yeah, I like her,” Michaela agrees.

“I think Kass is targeting her.”

“Why,” Michaela asks.

“She thinks she’s a threat.”

“Everyone’s a threat,” Ken reminds him.

“She sacrificed herself for our benefit,” Colby reminds Ken.

“I don’t want to vote for Wendy,” Michaela informs them.

“Lauren’s targeting Wardog, I assume,” Colby asks.

“Yeah,” Ken says.

“Yeah, she came to me and Jerri yesterday asking for our votes.”

“You and Jerri?”

“Yeah.”

“Yesterday?”

“Yeah, in the morning.”

“Jerri hasn’t said anything to me about it.”

Michaela looks at him with a confused, almost suspicious, raised eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.

When they return to town, the whole tribe (minus Wendy) is gathered around the campfire. Colby breaks open the wax seal and reads the tribe tree mail.

“It’s gonna be Folklore,” Jerri says, “Didn’t you win that?”

“I did win that. In Australia, yes,” Colby proudly states. “You think they’ll put us in shackles again?”

“I hope not,” Wardog blurts.

As the sun set, the desert sky fades into a deep, dark blue. Then, more stars you could ever imagine populate the sky.

At midnight, with the moon lighting their way, the castaways meet Jeff in a cavern lit with oil lamps.

“Good evening,” Jeff says as they stand before him beneath the centuries-old stalactites. “We’ll now bring in Wendy, returning from Exile.”

Wendy is all smiles when she joins the tribe.

“Wendy,” Jeff starts, “when most people return from Exile, they look miserable, lethargic, upset. You look full of life, just your regular, ol bubbly self!”

“Yeah! I had a GREAT time at Exile!”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I took a nap! And I got a lot of reading done!”

“Hopefully that reading comes in handy because tonight’s immunity challenge is Folklore. Stationed throughout this cave system, there are ten multiple choice trivia questions. Each answer will provide you with a wrapped nugget. Return to this cave with your wrapped nugget. When you unwrap it, if you got the right answer, you’ll find gold. Drop the gold in and your scale will tick up one. If you’re wrong, it’ll be just any other rock you might find in this cave. You’ll have to return to that station and try again. First person with all ten gold nuggets on their scale wins immunity and has a one in EIGHT chance of winning the million dollars. Are you ready to hear the story of Chief Joseph?”

“Let’s do it,” Colby says. His booming voice echoes through the cave.

Jeff tells the story, “Hinmatóowyalahtq̓it was born in 1840 to his mother, Khapkhaponimi, and his father Tuekakas, also known as Joseph the Elder. While Chief Joseph's given name meant ‘Thunder Rolling Down the Mountain,’ he was known as Young Joseph in his youth. He became known as Chief Joseph after the passing of his father in 1871. Joseph the Elder warned on his deathbed, ‘Never sell the bones of your father and your mother.’ Chief Joseph led the Nez Perce people through non-violence, despite increasingly hostile attacks. In 1877, Chief Joseph led a group of 750 on a trek through the Rocky Mountains. The United States Military had fifteen hundred men after them. After twelve-hundred miles, countless casualties and a five-day battle on Snake Creek, Chief Joseph, on behalf of the surviving members of Nez Perce, surrendered to Brigadiers General Howard and Miles. Chief Joseph surrendered after being told the surviving Nez Perce people could return to their reservation in Idaho. Instead, they were sent to Fort Leavenworth in Kansas as prisoners. The New York Times went on to call the war ‘a gigantic blunder and a crime.’”

The Survivors grab their torches to light their way through the caves. Jeff calls, “Survivors ready? Go!”

Lauren strides through a narrow tunnel and comes up to the first station. She reads the question quickly under her breath, “Where did Chief Joseph lead 750 Nez Perce people? Rocky Mountains, Smoky Mountains, Saint Elias Mountains? Rocky, definitely.” She grabs the wrapped nugget and returns to the starting cave where Jeff announces, “Lauren’s back with one, Jerri’s back with one, Kass is back with one, Wardog is back with one, but the question is, are they right?”

All four of them answer unwrap the gold nuggets while Michaela, Wendy, Colby, Ken, and Bi return with gold nuggets of their own. “Everyone on the board with one right,” Jeff announces, his voice booming through the tunnels.

“Where did the final battle of the Nez Perce War happen,” Michaela reads, “Colorado River, Fort Leavenworth, Snake Creek, that one.” She grabs the wrapped nugget and runs back. Most everyone else has returned to their stations and has begun unwrapping. Jerri unwraps a rock and drops it on the ground, rolling her eyes before running back into the caves.

Kass runs into an empty station in a far off cave. She reads the question to herself, “What did the New York Times call the war? A. Bloody but Necessary, No. B. A gigantic blunder and a crime, yes? C. The right move for America, No.”

As Kass lifts the lid for the second answer, Wendy comes up from behind, reads the question aloud and says “oh!” before reading any of the answers. She reaches a hand into the bucket and as quickly as she arrived, she’s gone. Kass shakes her head and laughs as she grabs from the bucket. When she returns, she sees everyone has at least two correct answers, but most people have three. Kass unwraps her nugget and drops it onto her scale. The arrow in the scale overhead moves from 2 to 3.

Ken looks over the question in the cave he’s found himself in. He mumbles it loud enough only for air to exit his lips, “What was Chief Joseph’s father’s name? Joseph the Elder, of course.” He grabs the correct answer without checking the other two options. Ken passes Lauren in one of the tunnels. They give each other a big smile as they pass.

“Great job,” he tells her.

“You too,” she responds as they squeeze past one another in the small tunnel underground.

Lauren makes it to another cave where she sees Wendy is already there reading the question, “In what year was Chief Joseph born? 1840, 1871, 1877. Psh, 1877 was the year of the war and I don’t think he was Chief when he was SIX YEARS OLD! It’s 1840!”

“How do you know so much about Chief Joseph,” Lauren asks as they each grab the 1840 nugget.

“I listened to the story Jeff was telling!”

“Yeah, but you seem way more confident than anyone else with this.”

Wendy just shrugs her shoulders and smiles as she runs back to her station. Her scale now reads six and she’s mere steps behind Colby who also has six. Everyone else has five.

Wardog finds the next station and mutters the question to himself quickly in an attempt to save time, “What did Chief Joseph’s given name, Hinmatóowyalahtq̓it, mean in the Nez Perce language? A. Thunder Rolling Down the Mountain B. Looking Glass C. White Bird?” He looks over all three answers, assuming each had the same probability of being right. Any time he saved by reading the question quickly has been lost by his contemplation of each choice. He finally chooses A and runs back. Giving himself six.

Jerri, while behind in the challenge, hasn’t given up. She’s picked up the pace and reads herself the next question, “To whom did Chief Joseph surrender? Gibbon & Strugis, I don’t think so. Sitting Bull? That... doesn’t make sense. Howard and Miles, yes! That was it!” She runs back and unwraps the correct answer’s nugget, though she’s still one nugget behind the next person.

Colby, Bi and Wendy are all tied for first with nine on their scales. Bi reads her final question, “Where was the reservation Chief Joseph was told his people could return after his surrender? Kansas, Idaho, Nevada. That makes sense.”

Simultaneously, Colby reads his final question, “Where were the surviving Nez Perce people sent after their surrender and why? The South to Farm, no, Relocation Centers for Spycraft, that... doesn’t sound right, Fort Leavenworth, as Prisoners! Yes!!”

At the same time, Wendy finds herself in the same cave as Lauren. Lauren appears stumped. Wendy reads the question, “What did Joseph the Elder say to his son from his deathbed? A. It is Cold, and We Have No Blankets; B. From Where the Sun Now Stands, I Will Fight No More Forever; or C. Never Sell the Bones of Your Father and Your Mother. The last one. The first two are from Chief Joseph’s surrender speech.”

“That wasn’t a part of Jeff’s story,” Lauren says, “How do you know that?”

“I read it!” she explains before rushing back to Jeff.

Bi, Wendy and Colby come out of their respective caves at the same time. All three race to their stations. Bi starts unwrapping her nugget, sees its a rock and drops it on the ground before rushing back. Colby and Wendy start unwrapping their own to find two gold nuggets. Wendy’s a step and half ahead of Colby, drops it in her scale, and Jeff announces, “Wendy wins immunity!”

The tribe gathers round where Jeff tells them, “Great challenge today. Wendy, gettin it done! Twice in a row, Wendy cannot be voted out. Colby, what happened?”

“You know, Jeff,” Colby says, “This is the third or fourth time I’ve come so close to winning. I just don’t think I can keep up with these young kids anymore.”

“Alright, it’s late,” Jeff says, “You’ll have tomorrow to think over the vote. I’ll see you at tribal council, tomorrow at sundown.

The castaways get on their horses and ride back to town. Somewhere in the Mojave Desert, a scorpion crawls up the skull of a coyote and pinches its pincers like tongs.

The next morning, Bi finds Lauren. She’s joined Ken in his workshop. Ken is building something.

“I understand you’ve been coming after Wardog,” Bi says.

“That’s right,” Lauren admits.

“I’m fine with that. I don’t need him anymore.”

“You’re done with him,” Ken asks, “just like that?”

“Sure, why not?”

“He’s been your closest ally this whole time,” Lauren reminds her.

“No,” Bi corrects her, “the idol nullifier was my closest ally. I got rid of that, an idol, Wardog’s extra vote and the last winner left in the game in one tribal council. Tell me again, what do I need Wardog for?”

“Alright,” Lauren says, “You’re not gonna hear me fighting for him.”

Bi leaves.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that she’s targeting her closest ally,” Lauren asks.

“Yeah,” Ken agrees, “It’s suspicious.”

Somewhere in the Mojave Desert, a black carpenter bee buzzes around a blooming cactus.

Bi finds Wardog resting in his bedroom. He lifts his head up when he hears the door open, then lays it back on the pillow when he sees it’s Bi.

“You know they’re targeting you,” Bi asks.

“Lauren? Of course. She’s never gonna trust me.”

“You want to take her out?”

“Wendy’s not gonna vote for Lauren.”

“Michaela would. Jerri would. Kass would.”

“Okay, who do you want to take?”

“I’ll talk to Michaela. You take Jerri and Kass?”

“Alright, sounds like a plan, pardna,” he says as he fires a couple finger guns at her.

Wardog gets up from his cot in the inn and marches down to find Jerri and Kass sitting by the fire with Colby and Wendy.

“Hey, uh, I’m gonna get some water. Does anyone want to come with?”

“Sure,” Kass says.

“I’ll come,” Jerri says, “You need any water, Wendy?”

“No, thank you, Jerri!”

Once out of the town proper, Wardog excitedly tells Kass and Jerri they’re targeting Lauren.

“Lauren, why,” Kass asks.

“She’s-- ow!” Wasdog slaps the back of his neck.

“What’s that,” Jerri asks.

“Something bit me,” Wardog says as he shows them the back of his neck. “Are there bugs in the desert?”

“Flies,” Kass says.

Wardog removes his hand to show the back of his neck. Jerri and Kass see his skin puffed up in a small circle.

“I think you got stung, man,” Jerri says.

“Flies can sting you?!”

“It was probably a bee,” Kass says.

“There’s bees in the desert?!?”

Michaela finds Ken and Lauren in Ken’s workshop. His project is coming along. He removes the nearly finished product from the work table and says, “What’s up Michaela?”

“Have you talked to Bi,” Lauren asks.

“I haven’t seen her recently.”

“She’s targeting Wardog,” Lauren explains.

“What? Alright. that makes things easier for us.”

“We don’t necessarily trust it,” Ken says as he brushes the dust off his project.

“It is weird,” Michaela agrees.

“Are you willing to trust Bi,” Lauren asks.

“If it’s not Wardog, who’s Plan B?”

“Wardog is Plan Bi,” Ken laughs to himself.

“I don’t know, but Ken, Wendy and I are all voting for Wardog.”

“Alright,” Michaela says before going out to find Bi.

Michaela finds Bi and the two walk on the outskirts of town as the sun begins to descend for the day.

“So,” Michaela asks, “What’s going on?”

“Lauren wants Wardog. Wardog wants Lauren.”

“Who do you want?”

“Who do you want?”

“Wardog’s gonna rustle fewer feathers.”

“So, you’re voting Wardog?”

“What are you asking me, Bi?”

“I just want to know how you’re voting.”

“I want to know how you’re voting.”

“You’ll see at tribal.”

Michaela looks at her, confused but not challenging anything.

As the moon takes the sun’s place, the remaining members of the tribe ride their horses out of town and meet Jeff around the campfire that is Tribal Council. Jeff greets them as they take their seats around the warm fire. “We’ll now bring in the members of our jury, Elizabeth, Todd, Russell and Ben, voted out at the last tribal council.”

The four members of the jury ride in on their akhal-tekes and form a square to preside over the tribe. Jeff begins, “Wendy, quite the few days for you. You go from volunteering for Exile to winning immunity.”

“Yeah! Exile was great! I noticed one of the beds had been disassembled and I found some screws and a screwdriver so I put the bed back together!”

“You didn’t have to do that, Wendy,” Jeff tells her.

“I know! But I wanted to! And also I took a nap!”

“You took a nap at Exile?”

“Yeah! Well, it’s so hard to sleep at camp. Everyone’s always walking around and chatting and plotting. It was nice to get some peace and quiet!”

“Who makes it hard to sleep at camp?”

“Wardog,” she groans.

“Wardog, she called you out,” Jeff says.

“Yeah, I don’t know what that’s about,” Wardog says, “I’m just out here trying to play the game.”

“I’m just trying to play the game,” Lauren impersonates Wardog’s Jersey accent under her breath. “Why are you even on this season, man? Aren’t you from, like, New Jersey?”

“I go to school in California.”

Lauren just raises her hand in exhausted frustration.

“Why does that bother you, Lauren,” Jeff asks.

“It doesn’t bother me that Wardog goes to school. It doesn’t bother me that Wardog’s school is in California. I’m bothered because, try as I might, I can’t seem to get Wardog out.”

“Kass, is it impossible to get Wardog out?”

“Hey,” Wardog protests.

“Nothing’s impossible, Jeff,” Kass says, “Anyone can get voted out at this point, except Wendy, of course.”

Wendy beams with pride as she shows off the immunity bandolier.

“Last tribal, Ben played an idol. Have people been going out looking for a new idol, Michaela?”

“I don’t think so. We figured Ben’s idol was from Tsitsistas.”

“So, has any found the Cheyenne idol,” Jeff asks.

“I don’t know, Jeff. You know from Game Changers, I lack observation skills.”

“Fair enough. So, if no one is concerned with another idol play, Bi, what are they concerned about?”

“Everybody sees the end in sight, so at this point, everybody’s trying to find their next target, the right target, the smart target. It’s like in MMA, You have to find their weak spot and target it to win,” Bi says.

“So, do you feel you’ve found your target,” Jeff asks.

“They’re all my targets, Jeff.”

“With that, it is time to vote. Colby, you’re up first.”

Colby makes his way into the cave to make his vote. Lauren follows and proudly shows her vote for Wardog. Bi makes her vote. Wardog makes his and holds it up to show Lauren’s name. The rest of the tribe makes their vote in the cave. Jeff tells them he’ll tally the votes and heads into the cave himself. When Jeff returns, he says, “If anyone has the hidden immunity idol and you’d like to play it, now would be the time to do so.”

Every tribe member looks at every other. Jeff waits a few beats, then says, “Alright, I’ll read the votes. First vote, Wardog. Second vote, Lauren.”

Lauren looks at Wardog and rolls her eyes.

Jeff continues, “Wardog, Wardog, Wardog, Twelfth person voted out of Survivor: Wild West and fifth member of our jury, Wardog.”

Jeff holds up the deciding vote for Wardog, which reads “Dan,” with a cartoon bee scribbled in the corner. Wardog accepts the votes with a stiff lip, nods and grabs his torch.

“Great job, guys,” he says before meeting Jeff and having his torch snuffed and riding his gorgeous grey lippizan. The sky is darker than his horse’s mane.

The final eight, Bi, Jerri, Colby, Kass, Ken, Lauren, Michaela and Wendy, get back on their horses and ride back to town after a unanimous vote.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Home- Chapter 16 (Kylo Ren/ Ben Solo x F!Oc)

A/N: Omg, we're almost done, this gets good

Words: 2,291

Masterlist:

Chapter 15 // Chapter 17

We all got out quickly and luckily we got to our ship. In the cabin, Poe inserts a medallion. A gift from Zurii, a key that can bypass the barriers of First Order systems.

The ship lands in the area of ​​the enemy Destroyer and the four of us leave, the first guards are eliminated and as we continue through the corridors of the ship, Rey is responsible for confusing another Stormtroopers, making them believe that it’s okay for us to be here, and to be told where chewie is, which works and we run through the halls, shooting any enemy soldier until we reach a door, where we are told that Chewbacca is.

Finn is in charge of opening the hatch, but before continuing I feel a chill and turn towards Rey, who begins to walk in the opposite direction.

"Rey?" I ask.

"The Dagger is on this ship. We need it,” she answers.

"Why?"

"A feeling. I’ll meet you back at the hangar,” She says looking at me.

"I'm not part of this, am I?" I have a bad feeling. Rey continues on her way.

“Where are you going? What's going on?" Finn asks me.

"I don't know, but I'm sure she knows what she's doing."

"But-"

"Come on, let's not waste any more time,” Poe cuts him off.

The three of us follow the course with blasters in hand until, finally, we found Chewie, who is handcuffed, but growls with joy at seeing us.

"Of course we came for you, Chewie," says Poe.

As soon as he is released, I feel his huge, furry arms wrap around me tightly.

"I am also happy to see you, friend."

Poe and Finn help him walk and when he stabilizes, we run to get out of here.

"The ship’s this way. Follow me.” Finn says going ahead, but the stormtroopers interrupt us and force us to change course. "Wrong way!"

"There’s not really a right way, is there?" Poe answers going to the other side "Can't you do Rey’s trick?" he says as we run.

"There are too many and everyone’s ready to shoot me before I can raise my hand."

The battle continues and seems to have no end.

"We close?" Poe asks.

"Straight ahead," Finn answers.

In one connection, Poe steps forward, but a Stormtrooper manages to shoot him in the arm causing him to fall to the ground.

"Poe!" Finn and I yell at the same time.

Chewie gets rid of some soldiers while I bend down to check Poe's arm, it doesn't take long for Finn to repeat my actions.

"Are you Okay?"

We hear footsteps and from one moment to the next, we are surrounded.

“Nope."

"Drope your weapons, now!”

——————————————————————

"Move,” They order us.

We are all handcuffed and being dragged by the soldiers to reach certain people who, unfortunately, seem familiar to me.

"Allegiant General, the scavenger is not with them, but we have the other girl,” says one of them.

“Take them away. Finish them.”

"But sir, the girl. The supreme leader gave orders to–”

"I am not interested, now I have given another order," he finishes, and then he leaves, leaving us with a rather irritating redhead.

Soldiers turn our backs and start their weapons.

“Come on, boys, we were friends. If Kylo finds out about this, I don't think He'll give you a raise,” I say, still with my back to them.

"Actually, she's right," starts the redhead. Uh-oh. "I'd like to do this myself.”

"Oops."

"At least you tried," says Poe next to me, and then I see Finn. "What were you gonna tell Rey before?" I roll my eyes.

"You still on that?" Finn answers.

"Come on guys,” I say.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is this a bad time?"

“Yeah, sort of is a bad time, Poe. You wanted to say something to Kiara too, is this the time to be honest?”

Oh, I didn't remember that.

"You're right, what was it, Poe?" I ask.

"Yeah... well, I asked first," He says nervously. "Cause later doesn't really look like an option. If you're gonna let something off your chest "

I leave the couple to continue arguing and listen to Hux's weapon start. Damn, that's why you must be friends with redheads. I close my eyes as soon as I hear the sound of the shot, but none of us is hurt. We turn and meet the lifeless soldiers.

"I’m the spy," says Hux.

"What?"

"You?"

“That’s why you always befriend the redhead,” I add, totally confused.

"We don't have much time.”

"Well, look at you, Huxie,” he rolls his eyes at the nickname.

"I knew it,” says Poe pointing at him.

"No, you did not.”

Another opportunity to flee that we do not miss.

"Who would say that all that psychological abuse was a mask. I thought you were just an idiot,” I say without stopping.

"Kiara, I think this is not the time–”

"Oh, it's always a good time to tease, Finn."

Hux guides us between the ship until we see C3PO, BB8 and the D-0 droid approaching.

"BB-8, come on!" shouts Poe.

Hux stops in front of a door and opens it for us.

"I'll shut down the impeders. You’ve got a few seconds.”

"There she is. She’s a survivor,” says Poe leaning out of a window, showing the Millenium Falcon.

"Finally," I whisper and we continue.

“Wait. Wait–” Hux tells us, “Blast me in the arm. Quick.”

"What?" Finn asks.

"They’ll know.”

“Oh! I’ll do it,” I say, raising my hand, but Finn shoots him in the leg, bringing him to the ground, complaining. "That's cheating," I say with a pout.

"Why are you helping us?" Finn asks him.

"I don't care if you win,” The man grunts, "I need Kylo Ren to lose.”

“Oh, boy.”

——————————————————————————

After helping Rey, we are all at the Millenium Falcon. Finn and Rey are in charge of fixing some things on the ship, while I am close to them. They both talk about Exegol and how to win this, but from one moment to the next, I feel something different, something I felt many years ago... with Ben, but now he is part of Rey.

When Ben was telling me about the voices on the dark side, and how his mood changed for no reason.

“He killed my mother, and my father. I'm going to find Palpatine and destroy him,” Rey says with a blank look.

That is not a good thing.

“Rey," starts Finn, "that doesn't sound like you. Rey, I know you.”

"People keep telling me they know me. I'm afraid no one does,” This has happened before.

Rey walks away and I follow her. I take her arm and lead her to where was once my room.

"I can't stand another speech," she complains.

"No, you must finish what you are starting, Rey,” She stays still. "This is the same as Ben when we were in the Jedi temple, this is how Kylo Ren started."

"You don’t understand it.”

"Maybe not, but there is something in which I do have an advantage,” I say approaching. "All that anger and anger, the thirst for revenge does not end well. You have to see beyond that, Rey. No one can forget what we’ve lost, but you should not remain stuck wanting to avenge your parents.”

“It's not that simple," she answers.

"No one said it was" I stir in my place. "You must see everything Kylo has done and know that all that control is useless and will only harm the people you love the most."

"You know who I am, who Palpatine is to me. My Powers…”

"That does not define you, Palpatine’s a very good puppeteer, he did it with Anakin Skywalker and also with Ben, do not let it consume you,” My voice break slightly. "I don’t plan to lose someone else because of him, Rey.”

She shakes her head and I know she’s holding back tears as well, but she says nothing and just leaves my room.

———————————————————

In our quest to find the wayfinder, we walked up a hill to observe Darth Vader's great work destroyed, surrounded by the wild surf of the planet.

"The death star. A bad place from an old war.”

"It's gonna take us years to find what we're looking for,” adds Poe.

Thanks to the dagger Rey recovered, we decipher the exact location of the Wayfinder, but a group of people interrupt us.

Babu Frik sent a signal announcing our arrival so that this group did not harm us. They are all part of the resistance. The leader of the group offers us help, but the surf is very dangerous, we can only go tomorrow, Rey is impatient.

"Any ideas to help Rey?" Finn asks me on the way back to the Falcon to fix the bulky landing. I sigh.

“It’s difficult to understand and even more to fix. I know how you feel, but at this point,” I see my friend, “I have no idea what you can do.”

Repair is difficult, but Jannah, the leader, who turned out to be an ex-stormtrooper is very helpful.

Everyone has a job, and when I feel a tickle, I know it's my turn now, and it will be the hardest.

"Where do you think you are going?" I say while still walking behind Rey.

"She said we should wait, but I can't do it."

"Oh, and what's the plan, miss, will I fix it all?"

"You don't have to come and take care of me.”

"Of course I do, apparently it’s my duty to take care of idiots who want to go to the dark side."

"No!" Rey yells at me, stops and confronts me. "No one asked you for help at any time, it’s not my fault that you have that need to protect us, I can do this by myself-”

"If you want to die, of course you can do it alone, Rey.”

"Enough! Stop being sarcastic,” She turns and continues walking until she reaches the ships of the group that is helping us.

"That's what Ben would say," I reply with a grimace.

"You don't understand, is everything just a game for you?"

"Only if it amuses me.”

“Kiara…" She says through gritted teeth.

"I cannot leave you alone and no matter what you say, I will be here,” Once I walked away and everything was destroyed. It won't happen again. "So... do we use a Skimmer?”

————————————————————

Rey and Kiara, experts in bad decisions face the giant waves of an unknown place. All because Rey wants to play tag you’re it, and I can't leave her alone. The damn Skimer is very difficult to control with so much movement.

"Rey!" I yell.

"What!?"

"If we get out of this, remind me to kill you later!"

By pure miracle, we’re able to enter the death star. A totally abandoned and destroyed place. For my bad luck, we have to climb the ruins. Rey knows where the wayfinder is exactly, so I follow her.

"Not because I have a metal hand, it means that my whole body is resilient,” I complain.

“We're almost there.”

Between the corridors there are stormtrooper uniforms, and one or another corpse, but that doesn't matter, it was a long time ago… I think.

After what seemed like years, we stop in front of what was once a round window or maybe it’s a capsule, I have no idea, but at least we stopped climbing. At that a door to our left opens, we both light the sabers and enter slowly. Darkness floods the place, but a small light captures our attention: a small pyramid, The Wayfinder.

"Finally," whispers Rey, but then another pair of red sabers lights up behind us and two hooded figures start the fight.

Each one fights against an enemy, but everything becomes increasingly rare when the light of my saber illuminates the face of my opponent.

“Shit," The Jedi tricks again. I feel a chill when the other person smirks. It's me, but without energy, without hope.

The fight continues, and I see the other version of Rey attacking my friend. This is very confusing. At my distraction, She stumbles out of the dark place, hitting me on the back with the wreckage of the ship. It doesn't take long for Rey to stumble by my side as well, letting go of the pyramid, which rolls out of our reach, but another hand stops it.

"Oh great," I say sarcastic.

We both get up and prepare for Kylo Ren's attack. Rey lights her saber again, but I get in front of her, trying to calm the situation.

"Look at yourself,” Kylo starts and Rey forces me to get a little closer, but I stop her again. “You wanted to prove to my mother that you were a Jedi, but you’ve proven something else.”

"Kylo, ​​stop.”

"You can't go back to her now," he continues to ignore me. "Like I can’t.”

"Stop. Both of you must stop all this circus –”

"The dark side is in our nature.”

Bullshit.

"Surrender to it…”

"Should I use this invisibility power for good, or evil?"

"Kiara, you better get away," says Rey. "Give it to me," She says to Kylo.

"The only way you’re getting to Exegol is with me,” He answers raising the Wayfinder and destroying it with just one hand.

"No!" She screams and using force, she pushes me away from her battle.

What she did not think well is where I could fall. I feel a new blow on my back and my body weakens. I hear her groans the clash of sabers, in the distance.

Kiara.

Taglist

@oopsiedoopsie23​

@blackheartedspider​

@fandomshit6000

@thewinterschildren178​

[bobby-hockey]

CHERRY TREE

arc: gongshow (arc introduction here) tws: vehicle accident, death.  length: 2k. summary: in which i incontrovertibly hurt the capitals. also, sasha “ghost” molchalin gets an unwilling new roommate. taglist: @kidsarentallwrite

-

Philadelphia Flyers @NHLFlyers - Nov. 4 They may be from Washington DC, but this is the City of Brotherly Love! Bring it on, Capitals! 

Philadelphia Flyers @NHLFlyers - Nov. 4 Mitty, Martin, and Molchalin start tonight. Retweet for a chance to win five gallons of Flyers-themed M&M(&M)s!

-

Clarence Taylor. Even the mention of his name is enough to make Sasha break out in annoyed hives—no defenseman has ever been able to read Sasha like Taylor does, and it’s literally the most aggravating thing. Like—yes, okay, Taylor is the captain of the Washington Capitals, was the first overall pick in 2012, got the Calder his rookie year and the Norris last year, has been to the All-Stars more times than Sasha cares to count. That doesn’t mean everyone needs to jump on Taylor’s dick. The guy is fucking irritating. 

“Calm down,” Marty says during warm-ups, spotting the look on Sasha’s face when Taylor skates by with a snide little comment lobbed in Sasha’s direction. “I can see your blood pressure rising.” 

“He’s a bastard,” Sasha says. He wants to snap his stick in half and maybe use the pointy ends to commit a homicide. Marty’d scruff him like a little cat and Sasha wouldn’t get more than a few strides before his feet cartoonishly skated out from underneath him. But it’s the thought that counts.

“You’re giving him exactly the reaction he wants,” Marty says. “And you’re not special, Ghost, he does that to everyone.” 

Sasha does not snap his stick in half, but it takes a Herculean effort. “Don’t bother trying your hippie elementary school teacher horseshit on me,” he says. “I hate him.” 

Marty sighs. “Just don’t let him get in your head,” he says, sounding resigned. 

Too late. Sasha takes a wild shot at the empty goal and misses—the puck ricochets off the crossbar. Goddammit. 

The Washington Capitals are a well-oiled machine: a steady, productive offense backstopped by a tenacious, elite defense and an almost jaw-droppingly good goaltender, and Sasha hates playing against them, mostly because they never fall for Mitty and Marty’s fakeouts. By second intermission they’re still deadlocked at 0-0, and the game—already ugly—is starting to get nasty. While there haven’t been any fights yet, Sasha can feel the tension in the air, a heavy weight like a storm brewing on the horizon. 

So maybe Sasha curses at Taylor a little more thoroughly than is strictly warranted when he shoves Sasha into the boards. Sasha hates the guy. It’s been a hard, awful game. He’s allowed.

“Your mother must be so ashamed of you,” Taylor says as the referee whistles the first play of the third period dead, black mouth-guard half-hanging out of his mouth. He’s Canadian, Taylor is, and so is Marty, and while they have the same kind of soft, shallow vowels, Marty is fun and easy to listen to but Taylor’s voice grates against Sasha’s nerves. Sasha’s not a fighter—why would he be, when Marty is 6’10” and impossible to take down—but a single word out of Taylor’s mouth makes Sasha want to drop his gloves and start swinging.

“Go fuck yourself,” Sasha says, scowling. 

Taylor grins and, in a bad imitation of Sasha’s Russian accent and a worse imitation of Sasha’s voice, says “Go fuck yourself,” all mocking like. “Come on, Molchalin, what’re you gonna do? Frown at me some more? Y’know your face could get stuck like that.” 

Sasha sneers. His shift is up and he’s supposed to be getting off ice—Hartsy’s half over the boards, looking at him expectantly—and Taylor’s heading back to the Capitals bench, this grin on his face like he’s pleased with himself at getting the last word. Sasha doesn’t care for it. At all. 

He drops his shoulder and half-checks Taylor as he leaves the ice, sending the defenseman reeling, and when Taylor regains his footing and turns around the grin’s gone, replaced by an annoyed stare. 

“Three months and four days,” Sasha says, although if asked he wouldn’t be able to say why: the number just pops into his head, trips off his tongue. “Keep an eye out.” 

“What the fuck, Molchalin?” Taylor shouts after him. 

Hah, Sasha thinks, and skates back to the Flyers bench. 

The Flyers lose—one of the Capitals manages a nasty goal forty seconds before the final buzzer, and the Flyers make an ignominious retreat into the locker room. But that’s fine. Sasha doesn’t mind. It wasn’t Taylor who scored the goal, and Sasha played well. That’s all that he cares about.

-

Washington Capitals @Capitals - Feb. 8 Just try to beat us at home, @PSSkimmers. 

Port Sterling Skimmers @PSSkimmers - Feb. 8 We’re setting sail for Washington DC… time to tackle the Capital! 

Washington Capitals @Capitals - Feb. 8 Team bus has been involved in a collision on the I-50E returning from Delaware. Updates will be posted as they come in.

-

Of course, Sasha thinks to himself, staring up at the floating, incorporeal form of Clarence Taylor hovering over him, Taylor always did have a way to make him regret literally every decision he’d ever made in his life.

“What the fuck,” Taylor howls in his face. “Three months and four days. That’s what you said. You motherfucker. What, you some fucking psychic or something? What kind of sick freak does that and doesn’t give any context? Jesus Christ. You’re an asshole.” 

Literally five seconds ago Sasha was sleeping. Why is this happening. He’s not awake enough for this.

“What?” Sasha says, when Taylor seems to break off, and then he remembers their last meeting, back in November: Taylor’s shocked green eyes peering at him over the Capitals bench, blond eyebrows furrowed as he gaped at Sasha. He rubs his eyes, sits up, and then, around a yawn, says “You were counting?” 

“Wh—Of course I was counting,” Taylor says, floating backwards. Maybe he’d think it weirder, Clarence Taylor literally floating in Sasha’s bedroom wearing a Capitals shirt and sweatpants, but then again, Sasha’s seen weird, and this is not that. No offense to Mitty, but Mitty kind of breaks the scale of weird shit all on his own. “You mean to tell me that if some asshole came at you with some ominously specific date you’d just, I don’t know, write it off, or whatever? Of course not! I thought you were just gonna play some, some stupid prank on me or something, some bullshit like that, and then—” 

His form flickers out, the space he had been occupying suddenly empty. Sasha blinks. 

“And then what?” Sasha says. Silence. “For the record, I would definitely ignore it, because it would be bullshit and wouldn’t matter anyways.” 

Except Taylor clearly hadn’t let it go. 

There’s no response. Sasha reaches for his phone on his bedside table, and blinks again when he turns it on and it starts buzzing almost incessantly with incoming texts. They’d just finished a long roadie through Canada, and they didn’t have anything except practice later today, so the fact that the group chat is absolutely lighting up is something of a surprise. 

Sasha scrolls through quickly, not bothering to try and decipher most of the texts, but he more or less gets the gist of it: some shit happened with the Capitals. Something big. Maybe Taylor did something stupid. 

He rolls out of bed. Shuffles into his living room, scratching his stomach. Light slants in through the window, and Sasha squints at the sun peeking in through the blinds—it’s earlier than he thought it was. Fumbles for the remote, turns on the TV, switches it to the news—

“Oh, fuck,” Sasha says, suddenly wide awake. His stomach churns. 

It wasn’t Taylor doing something stupid. Not even close. They’re playing footage: a nighttime aerial shot of a charter bus, a tipped-over semi-truck plowed into the side like a beached whale. Streetlights and ambulance strobes and spotlights from helicopters illuminate firefighters and EMTs carting out hockey player after hockey player and bundling them into ambulances. 

“It looks better like this,” Taylor says, his detached, oddly clinical voice coming from somewhere over Sasha’s shoulder, and Sasha almost trips over his coffee table and goes headfirst into his TV. “Not as much blood.” 

God. That’s a horrifying thought. Sasha lets out a string of foul curses, running a hand through his hair. If they had heard, all of the generations of women who came before him would have either given him an ass beating into next year or washed his mouth out with soap. Since he’s in America and they’re buried in Russia, they’ll have to settle for turning in their graves. 

“I only caught about three words of whatever you just said,” Taylor says, “but yeah. That.”  

Sasha looks at him—properly looks at him. Taylor looks mostly exactly like how Sasha saw him last, back in December: blond hair spiked up, red Capitals long-sleeved shirt, sweatpants from some brand Sasha doesn’t recognize, a pair of Ugg boots because apparently Taylor is a teenage girl. He’s dressed down, and he’s see-through, but other than that he looks pretty much like Sasha would expect Taylor to look, even if he wasn’t anticipating the boots.

“You’re dead,” he says, almost a question.

“I think so,” Taylor says. His voice is odd, too, echoing and faintly staticky, like he’s standing in an empty room and Sasha is hearing his voice over the phone from far away. 

Clarence Taylor, dead. It doesn’t seem possible. Sits wrong. Sasha presses his mouth into a thin line to avoid admitting that, because he would never. “And you’re stuck with me.” 

Taylor almost laughs. His chest expands and deflates like he’s actually breathing. Do ghosts breathe? Sasha’s nickname might be ‘Ghost,’ but somehow he doesn’t think he’s an authority on whether spirits need lungs or not. “You think that if I could be anywhere in the world, I’d be hanging out with you?” 

“Nope,” Sasha says, “which means you’re definitely stuck with me.”

“Just what I always wanted,” Taylor mutters, in a way that means this is absolutely not what he wanted, in any sort of way, at all. 

Sasha would agree, but that would mean agreeing with Clarence fucking Taylor, and he has absolutely no urge to do so at any costs. “You don’t have to sound so thrilled about it,” Sasha says. 

“Trust me, I’m not,” Taylor says, and then he fades out of existence, like he was never there to begin with. 

If Clarence Taylor simply didn’t exist, Sasha’s life would have been so much easier. 

But now the guy’s dead, and Sasha doesn’t know what to think.

-

Washington Capitals @Capitals - Feb. 9 We’ve received word that several players have passed away, including associate captain RJ Radulov and Jean-Sebastien Fontaine. We ask that you keep their families in mind during this trying time. Stay strong.

Philadelphia Flyers @NHLFlyers - Feb. 9 Our hearts go out to our friends the @Capitals, their families, and everyone affected by the I-50E tragedy. We’re here for you. #CapsStrong

Washington Capitals @Capitals - Feb. 9 Capitals captain Clarence Taylor remains in critical condition at Pennsylvania Hospital.