#can someone help this mushroom navigate...

[seb-boo]

*bump*

[literaryvein-reblogs]

When your Character Needs Outdoor Survival Skills

Knowledge of outdoor survival techniques can improve your chances of making it through a life-or-death situation. Examples include knowing how to make a shelter, forage for edible plants, find water, and build a fire.

Consider these essential survival skills to improve your chances of success in the wilderness:

Build a fire. Use dry leaves, pine needles, or small pieces of wood to start a fire that can enable you to cook a meal, stay warm, or ward off wild animals from your shelter site. Use waterproof matches or a firestarter to spark tinder and kindling.

Craft a short-term survival shelter. Depending on the climate, weather, terrain, and available resources, you might want to construct a temporary refuge to shield you from the elements until you encounter your rescuers. You should insulate your shelter to help you retain valuable body heat in cold weather or provide sun protection to minimize your dehydration in a hot, arid climate.

Establish a hierarchy of priorities. A stranded hiker or someone forced into a survival scenario should work diligently to address the “rule of threes”: The average human can survive three hours without shelter, three days without water, and three weeks without food. These timelines are somewhat subjective to the individual and the climate, yet the rule of threes can provide a template to guide actions in the field.

Find a clean water source. A human can survive only about three days without water, so finding and collecting drinking water should be one of your priorities in a survival scenario. Use a water filter, iodine tablets, or a fire to boil the water. However you choose to purify water, it’s imperative to do it in adequate amounts to meet your hydration needs.

Locate a food source. Gather surplus supplies when possible and diversify your diet as much as you can to provide your body with essential protein, fats, vitamins, and minerals. Forage for edible flowers, roots, and mushrooms; use natural materials to build snares for small game; or craft fishing tools to catch fish.

Practice excellent hygiene. Bacteria, parasites, and pathogens can enter the body through food and open wounds. Practicing cleanliness and good hygiene will reduce your chance of succumbing to an illness. Remaining healthy is crucial since even a few days of bed rest could reduce your chances of survival and quickly deplete your resources.

Stay calm and assess the situation. The most important survival tool you have at your disposal is your mind. When you find yourself in a life-or-death survival situation, the amygdala of the human brain will pump the body full of stress hormones to trigger a fight-or-flight response. Counter your instincts by taking a moment to collect your thoughts—this will help you eliminate unnecessary risks and minimize your energy expenditure until you have a solid plan in place. Remaining calm is a must since avoidable mistakes can be lethal, especially in the wilderness.

Signal nearby search and rescue teams. Use visual and auditory signals like mirrors, whistles, and smoke to attract the attention of rescuers and notify them of your location for evacuation. Keep a solar battery charger for your cell phone in your survival kit to keep you connected—especially if traveling alone.

Test your bushcraft skills before you need them. You might already know how to navigate by the North Star or tie a bowline knot, but you should run a preparedness drill to test your skills in realistic scenarios. Knowledge is essential, but practice can help you determine your strengths and weaknesses so that you can ultimately improve.

Use everything at your disposal. A survivor must pack light and move quickly, making it necessary to collect water and food while on the go and carry multipurpose items worth their weight in utility. For example, a stranded backpacker might not have a manufactured first aid kit or bug-out bag from which they can draw any necessary tools or materials to survive comfortably. Instances like these require ingenuity and good problem-solving skills. For example, a plastic bag, a length of paracord, and a supply of duct tape could become the primary elements of a shelter that shields you from the wind and rain.

To test yourself, practice hard skills under circumstances that reflect the challenges you might face in the field.

Mental conditioning, a positive attitude, and creative problem-solving skills also make an impact.

Consistent practice and improvement will boost your confidence so that you can remain resilient in the face of adversity.

Source ⚜ Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[diminuel]

Considering Crocodile likes the finer things life has to offer. I imagine he's a good cook (he's also paranoid enough to not trust many people to cook his food without poisoning him), but also if he's gonna eat it will taste good. I also see him as someone who has problems not being good or excellent at things, so naturally he at one point in time went on a whole hyper fixation induce time period where he got really good at cooking. Regardless eventually cooking becomes a nice relaxing part of his day, to destress and listen to music and he learns to love cooking. (He'd probably hate the monstrous appetite Monkey D's have though).

But when the kids get older, cooking becomes a time when they either sit/help their Baba in the kitchen. They talk about their days and work and anything else. If they had homework (do Crocodile and Dragon actually teach them or send them to school? Or they forever wild jungle kids?) they could do it then. Eventually when they are teens, I feel Crocodile makes it his mission to teach his children at least the basics of cooking. No child of his will not know how to season whatever they catch with spices or at the very least know when meat is cooked, what you can eat raw safely, and which mushrooms are the best.

This probably has varying degrees of effect. Ace probably has a tendency to overcook things by cooking them to hot or too fast. Sabo is fine. If Merry (Baby 2) is a thing (depending on AU) she might be the best or the worst. Luffy probably is okay maybe was taught some self restrain to cook one or two more complicated dishes that are his favorites Baba makes...I feel Luffy would have more restrain if cooking for others, by himself he'd just roast meat likely.

But imagine Sanji gets sick or hurt. The other strawhats are debating who should cook now, and without being asked or really thinking much about it, Luffy steps up and cooks for his crew, as his crew argues about who should cook. Luffy makes that one dish his Baba taught, that Luffy likes to cook. Maybe it's curry or something using those Alabasta spices as it's what Baba always liked to use or a simple stew to help Sanji feel better. But Luffy stepping up because he can and as Captain it's his responsibility to help his crew and Sanji shouldn't worry about the crew eating when he's not well. I don't know how the strawhats actually react to their captain doing this, but I feel it would be amusing.

Dragon should probably be banned from the kitchen. Burns everything. He can cook meat over a campfire, and that's it. The man burns his toast no matter what. Poor guy.

Oooh, I love it!

He does love to cook, but preparing Monkey D. appropriate meals is probably quite a bit harder due to the sheer quantity they consume.

I love the idea of cooking time being family time too (and yes, I do imagine that the kids get sent to school. Maybe Dragon wouldn't be too fussed about it but the jungle can't teach them everything they need to know so Crocodile would insist on school.) and that the kids would learn to cook.

And yes! Luffy cooking for his crew when Sanji can't is so good and I do think they'd be rather shocked about it because he never lifts a finger to cook otherwise so they just assumed he couldn't do more than put meat over a fire (which is generally the thing with Luffy, also in this AU I think. He doesn't share information that isn't relevant or do things that aren't necessary - why cook if they have a cook, why navigate if they have a navigator, etc etc).

Dragon's banned from the kitchen for more than one reason. Not only does he seem to be cursed to always burn his toast (maybe he actually IS cursed *lol* Garp has probably made enough enemies for one of the other curse aimed at his bloodline or firstborn to stick) but the curse will infect Crocodile too! (It's not because Dragon is so distracting, with wandering hands and kisses pressed against his neck~) If the kids don't want burnt food they have to get Dad out of the kitchen *lol*

(When it's Dragon's turn to watch the kids on his own they all know it's time to go hunt for food and cook it over a campfire X'D If they need something else they can go to Makino *lol*)

[nobody3xe]

“Hello Rook! I've noticed something off in my nights at Ramshackle. Past a certain hour it seems like there are eyes on back tracking my movements. My intuition rarely falters but I need a second opinion. What would you do in the event you heard the rustling of a curtain or the snap of a branch while you were in bed. As a hunter I'd imagine your perception is out of this world. Tell me do you think this is some predator?” With [Rook Hunt]

tw: hints at stalking, manipulation

Rook turns his head towards you with a cheeky grin, no longer so fascinated with the mushrooms that a certain eel grew in the botanical gardens.

The hunter simply chuckles as if your statement was but a simple joke. “You’re way more observant than I give you credit for trickster, truly magnificent! My, it’s only becoming for someone such as yourself.” He takes your hand on his own, placing a kiss on top of it. “The gesture of kissing one’s hand has been affiliated mainly with respect since olden times. fufu… But just as words hold different meanings, gestures can convey several messages,” He then starts gently caressing your hand, careful as if he’d break you if he applied too much force. “-politenesses, courtesy, devotion, admiration…” He pauses for a moment before he suddenly gasps as he lets go of your hand, still being gentle. “My sincerest apologies mon Trickster, but I have run out of time.” He frowns before dramatically placing a hand where his heart was. “I must return to the dorm as I have matters to deal with..” Within a matter of seconds, he’s completely out of your sight. He doesn’t bother to assist you, unlike his usual self who would come running across dorms to help you with a minor task. It makes you suspicious of him, but you dare not question someone’s morals, especially if that someone has been of plenty help to you.

Although it may have been better for you to remain suspicious of him. Maybe then you would have noticed the unique magic of his, that was caste on you.

Title: Strange…

Requests are; open

Main Navigation

© nObody3xe do not plagiarize, repost or translate without permission.

[coff-in]

YES! I SEE YOU’RE DOING AND TAKING REQS AGAIN!!!

Reader who is constantly zoning out 25/8 head cannons. Doesn’t matter if they’re eating, drinking, bathing, walking or working; they’re always daydreaming in their head. Constantly running into things or tripping because they’re too preoccupied in their head. They daydream a lot to where sometimes they reenact their thoughts or speak to nobody in particular. Their S/O always has to bring them back or navigate them so they don’t accidentally hurt themselves.

Reader can be G/N, or female if it’s necessary for a gender. I’d like Andrew to be the S/O, but you can throw Ashley in the mix too (separately or together) if you want. I won’t throw shade.

TYYYYY!!!!

notes from coff-in: i've been meaning to answer the asks in my inbox for weeks now, but every time i tell myself 'i should answer asks' i suddenly find myself not doing it. like the more i think about doing something the longer it takes for me to do it. eventually i just sort of stop thinking about it and get focused on other work and then open my inbox and go 'yeah i'll answer these now :)' like i haven't been gone for a month or so. is this normal? the same thing happens when i think about soaking my mushroom log or taking my pills or even when i was younger and had to wear my retainer, i think 'i'll do it later' and then i never do it. i'll think 'i should do it sometime today' and then i never do it. why do i do that? sorry about that, in other news: i have started playing roblox and i like sebastian solace from pressure. big fish :3

[gender neutral] reader-insert

[reader] is so me fr fr. 'maladaptive daydreaming' you mean... uh normal behavior... gottem. i appreciate that you said 's/o' because i've been meaning to write for julia for a while (hussies unite or smth).

andrew would find [reader]'s daydreaming endearing, but would see it as a hassle to deal with often. he's constantly nudging you and gently shaking you to get your attention. he'd also tease you about running into objects and scold you for not paying attention. protective instincts kinda kick in for him :') he does wish you paid more attention to your surroundings and school ("i'm not going to be able to help you with your homework forever," he tells you while doing your homework)

ashley would definitely be annoyed. you should be paying attention to her! she's YOUR girlfriend, asshole! you would need to repeatedly (hourly, even) tell her that you do love her, you are trying to pay attention to her, etc etc. i don't think a maladaptive daydreamer would pair all too well with ashley. maybe.... she would feel comforted that you sorta act the same with others, spaced out and unfocused, but there's always that worry in her that someone else will snap you out of your haze and take your attention away. hang out with ashley, she's just a girl who's fun and whimsical, give her all your attention. do it. DO IT-- (she will laugh at you if you trip on something)

julia :3 i think julia wouldn't mind [reader] constantly zoning out. julia is (as far as we've seen, mind you!!) such a sweet and gentle girl, i honestly think you and her would work out very well. she's gemtly holding your arm or hand and swerving you away from poles and potholes. she taps you so you can focus on your work and if you wanna veg out next to her, she doesn't mind that. love that emo girl

----

coff-in

is it a certified coff-in post if i don't rant/vent in the opening notes? anyways please ask me about my opinions on pressure, it's infecting my brain :3

[foxglovepng]

Wittle request since I am very Mentally Eel (lol) but could u do some hcs of how do u think the Tweels, Azul and Lilia would react to like, meeting someone who is very into Moray Eels. Like, have plushies, use moray puns, memorized the entire Wikipedia article bout em, etc.

Have a great day, eat a meal, drink water, if u need take ur meds and sleep well!!

Characters: Tweels, Azul, Lilia

CW: not proofread (When do I ever proofread)

A/n: I am SO SORRY This request took so long I am going through requests now and doing them. They are getting done but not as fast as I would like. (Writer's block and loss of motivation go BRR)

Thank you also! I hope you have a great day as well and make sure to take care of yourself. If you have a cat tell them I said Pspsppss

Likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

🌼

Azul

He doesn't really find your interest bothersome just more of a "If you have any questions ask Jade." type of deal.

Although he'd be really thrown off if you suddenly wanted to start talking about Octopusses.

If you start ranting he would gladly listen to what information you have (and maybe make a contract so he can find information he doesn't have). He could also use this time to get blackmail unless it's something he already knows.

In a romantic sense, I feel he'd be a little upset and insecure if you talk about Moray Eels constantly. (SHOW HIM SOME LOVE TO SMH)

Overall is not really bothered but will exploit your information as blackmail.

Jade

He finds your interest in Moray eels adorable. He tries to answer any questions you may have he will tease you a little bit about your interest, but in return, you listen to him talk about mushrooms (Think of it as an information exchange). If you ask to see his eel form he'd be like "Oh? you wish to see my eel form?" he'd show you it since you asked nicely but would also give you a water-breathing potion so you can explore whatever body of water Octavinelle has.

I can imagine if you ask a myth about eels and he debunks It "Erm actually 🤓☝️" (joke)

Overall he'd be more helpful than Floyd would be

Floyd

Depending on Floyd's mood he will either be impressed and intrigued or annoyed.

So it's a 50/50 if you wanna ask questions. (Very helpful Floyd)

Although when you do have questions he'd either send you to Jade or drag you to the Octavinelle equivalent of an ocean. If you complain about clothes getting wet or the water being cold he'd be like, "Whaat? You asked."

If he's in a bad mood he would probably shoo you away or make some lie up leaving you to go find Jade.

Floyd is just a silly guy fr

Lilia

Lilia finds your interest amuzing. If he knows any information he'll give it to you if you ask nicely if he doesn't then he will help you get information by either going to Jade or reading about it via online or the library books.

He would gladly listen to your rants and whatever information you have to share he may even teach you a thing or two about Fae's.

Imagine him playing the Overwatch or Valorant equivalent (We are not a Fortnite household) clacking away on his keyboard while listening to you talk about how Moray Eels have poor eyesight so they need their nose (They have really good noses btw) to help them navigate.

And then it causes questions as to why Jade and Floyd aren't wearing glasses on land.

Thank you for reading. If you'd like to share your thoughts or make any corrections feel free to shoot me a message. Have a lovely day <3

[n1angi]

Shrouded in Darkness

CHAPTER 3 : BOUCHE

previous chapter | next chapter

Will Graham x AFAB character x Hannibal Lecter (Polyamory)

Summary:

In the heart of Baltimore, forensic analyst Sidonie Renard navigates the shadows of crime scenes, concealing her loneliness behind a composed facade. Drawn into a web of intrigue, she captures the attention of profiler Will Graham and the enigmatic Hannibal Lecter.

Word count: 3,9k

Chapter Warning: Murder, Blood, Gore.

The following day arrived, and the routine remained unchanged. They examined the found evidence and documented it together.

It was a peaceful day, thankfully devoid of any new murders. The four of them split into pairs to examine the bodies.

The lab door creaked open, revealing Will Graham with a cup of coffee in hand. He approached Brian and Jimmy, observing the corpse. Will donned gloves and joined them.

“What were they soaking in?”

“A highly concentrated mixture of hardwoods, shredded newspaper, and pig poop. Perfect for growing mushrooms and other fungi,” Jimmy explained, as Brian pointed at the kidney.

“It wasn't the mushrooms though. They all died of kidney failure,”

“Dextrose in all the catheters. He probably used some kind of dialysis or peristaltic to pump fluids after the circulatory systems broke down,” Beverly suggested, moving closer to the group. Will glanced briefly at Sidonie, who seemed to be engrossed in her work.

“Force-feeding them sugar water,” he concluded, turning back to Beverly.

“You know who loves sugar water? Mushrooms. They crave it” Jimmy chimed in.

“Recovering alcoholics crave sugar. Uh, don’t take that personally,” Brian teased Jimmy, prompting a smile from Beverly.

“I'm not recovering,” Jimmy retorted with a smirk.

“But alcoholics aren't the only ones with compromised endocrine systems.” Will mumbled as his expression shifted into a realization. “They all died of kidney failure? Death by diabetic ketoacidosis?”

Beverly to raise an eyebrow at Brian.

“Did you know they were diabetics?” she inquired.

“We don't know.”

“No, they are all diabetics,” Will confirmed, shaking his head. “He induces a coma and puts them in the ground,” Beverly couldn't help but smile at his deduction.

“How is he inducing diabetic comas?”

“Changes their medication. He's a doctor or a pharmacist or works somewhere in medical services,”

“He buries them, feeds them sugar to keep them alive long enough for the circulatory systems to soak it up,” Beverly summarized.

“So he can feed the mushrooms,” Jimmy added.

“We dug up his mushroom garden,” Brian lamented.

“He'll want to grow a new one,” Will remarked before leaving the room to inform Jack about their discovery.

Sidonie gently pulled a red hair from the corpse, recognizing it immediately.

“What's that?” Beverly asked, taking a step towards Sidonie.

“Freddie Lounse,” she replied, storing the hair in a small container. Brian glanced up at the name.

“How did she get there before us?” Beverly wondered, looking around.

“She has her ways…" Sidonie shrugged. “It’s a surprise she hasn’t been caught for contaminating the crime scene. It’s not like she hasn’t done this before.”

“Wait...” Jimmy stepped closer, examining the hair. “Doesn’t it look like the one found in Minnesota?” Everyone turned to him. Beverly groaned slightly.

“She was there too.”

Brian stayed silent, listening to the conversation unfold.

“Should we inform Jack, or...?” Jimmy wondered aloud.

“It will be wise to report it,” Sidonie suggested, her gaze returning to the corpse. A suspicion crossed her mind. “Maybe there's someone in B.A.U. leaking information. How else would she know about the locations?”

“You are right.” Beverly nodded. “It’s best if Jack knows.”

Jack Crawford and Will Graham, accompanied by other agents, approach the serene-looking pharmacy. Jack briefs Will.

“She's the chain’s 10th diabetic customer to disappear after filling a prescription for insulin, second from disappear from this exact location.”

“The other eight.”

“All over the county. One pharmacist has been all over the county, too,” Jack replies.

“A floater, huh?”

“Floater's floating right there. Still logged into his workstation,” Jack remarks, as the armed agents approach the pharmacy counter. Upon noticing the FBI agents, individuals raise their hands. Some of them kneel, others lean against the wall.

Jack displays his badge and announces loudly.

“Everyone. Stop what you're doing and put your hands in the air.” Will stands behind him as the pharmacists comply.

“Special Agent Jack Crawford. Which one of you is Eldon Stammets?” The pharmacist glances at his colleague beside him, looking puzzled.

“Eldon was just here. Just now,”

“His car still in the parking lot?” Will asks. The pharmacist falls silent, and Jack raises his voice, insisting.

“His car!”

Beverly and Sidonie arrive at the pharmacy, announcing their intention to review the documents and potential evidence. Brian begins examining the medicines while Jimmy and Sidonie focus on the prescriptions nearby.

Beverly checks the computer, her eyes scanning the screen until she notices something familiar recently accessed. Opening it, she discovers an article, causing her eyes to widen.

“Jimmy,” she calls out, gesturing to the screen as he approaches. He reads the title.

“I’ll go and get Jack.”

“What’s the matter?” Brian asks curiously.

“It's Freddie Lounse,” Beverly informs. Sidonie's attention is piqued upon hearing the name. Brian reads the article title. His eyes slowly look up at Sidonie.

“It’s about Will Graham and… you.”

“What?” Sidonie's brows knit together, blinking. She approaches the computer, standing between the others as she reads the article.

The headline reads, “EXCLUSIVE: 'MATCH MADE IN HELL,”. Beneath it, she comes across a picture of her where she tries to approach Will.

She continues reading about what Freddie wrote about him. The article portrays the FBI as paying a psychopath to catch another, essentially painting them as one of them.

“The esteemed profiler seems to have found himself a fitting counterpart, who is, not so surprisingly, the daughter of a murderer. What a charming pair, don't you think? After all, why else would she choose such a career path? Her knack for murder runs in the family!

Oh, but let's not forget her delightful habit of falsely accusing her colleagues, leading to their unfortunate job losses. Such dedication to spreading chaos surely speaks volumes about her upbringing. Is this how she channels her impulses? By wreaking havoc and ruining lives for sheer entertainment? Just ask her former coworkers who fell victim to her blame game, leaving them out of a job. Looks like her idea of therapy involves a little collateral damage. Daddy issues, anyone?”

Jack and Will approach them.

“Freddie Lounse,” Brian speaks hesitantly. Sidonie takes a step back from the computer. Her expression shows a hint of a frown, but she quickly smoothens it, maintaining a composed demeanor.

Beverly informs Jack she can’t read it out loud because it goes into detail, so Jack reads it quietly. Will does the same. As Jack finishes, he curses.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” he mumbles. Silence falls upon the group.

Will looks at Sidonie, curious about her reaction to the article.

Without a complete understanding of her history and actions, likely exaggerated due to Freddie Lounse's article, the potential parallels between Sidonie and Abigail Hobbs provided a faint sense of comfort.

Jack hadn't factored in Sidonie's past, but regardless of this Will couldn’t help but relax slightly at the thought of her hastily judging Abigail.

Sidonie sensed Will's gaze on her. Looking at him, their eyes locked. His deep blue hues met her olive green ones for the first time.

A wave of anxiety and discomfort washed over her. Quickly averting her gaze, she excused herself, stepping back to catch some fresh air.

Hannibal sat at his desk, his posture upright but his gaze downcast as he read a recent article by Freddie Lounds. His attention lingered on the image of the unfamiliar woman depicted in the article.

After reading it through, he closed the page with a slight shake of his head.

“You are naughty Miss Lounds.”

Sidonie sat at the table, pen in hand, diligently jotting down the evidence they had gathered from the pharmacy earlier that evening. Her gaze drifted over the paper as she wrote, though her mind wandered elsewhere, causing her to shift in her seat and blink, trying to refocus.

With a firm grip on the pen, she clenched her jaw slightly, meticulously labeling the evidence and noting its details, such as location, custody, and packaging.

As she glanced at one of the photos of the evidence, memories of Will Graham's acknowledging look after reading the article flooded her mind, eliciting a sense of irritation.

She disliked the sudden attention drawn to her past, especially due to Freddie Lounse's article. It seemed history was repeating itself, and she found the notion unsettling.

The door creaked open, and Jack Crawford entered the dimly lit lab, the sound of his footsteps echoing.

Sidonie's eyes darted to him, surprised by his sudden presence, which put her on edge.

“Agent Crawford.”

“I took care of Freddie Lounse. The article has been removed,” he informed her, prompting Sidonie to relax her shoulders slightly, unaware of how tense she had been. “I ensured she won't write about you again.”

“Thank you,” she replied, though her gratitude was tinged with doubt.

“She confessed she was in Minessoda.” Jack continued, recalling the earlier report the team gave him on the case. Sidonie nodded as silence loomed over the room.

“I assume you've had dealings with her before?” Jack inquired, prompting Sidonie to sign, as she crossed her arms.

“Unfortunately,” Jack mirrored her posture, prompting for more information. “She wrote an article about me, back when I worked in law enforcement.”

“And when was this?”

“A few years ago,” Sidonie replied, her tone curt. “After I reported some of my coworkers for misconduct, including breaking protocols and involvement in drug-related offenses. Agent Lawson ensured everything was documented. You can check if you are curious.”

“You sure do have a knack for reasoning everything with evidence,” Jack remarked with a lighter tone.

She chuckled softly, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

“It just comes naturally to me, I guess,”

“I'm not questioning you. I trust Harold's judgment of you. That's why you're here,” Jack assured her.

Her former boss had always spoken highly of her, acknowledging her hard work, and she was grateful for the recognition.

“However, I don’t get one thing. Why would they speak ill of you?” Jack inquired, taking a step closer.

“Because it's easier to shift blame onto someone else for your own mistakes,” she replied, meeting Jack's gaze. “Especially someone with a background.”

Jack's expression tightened slightly, a hint of discomfort flickering across his features.

“Did they know?”

“When you're looking for someone to blame, you'll dig up anything you can find.”

A heavy silence settled over the room as Jack nodded, his eyebrows raised in understanding.

Sidonie turned to her notebook, her handwriting from earlier appearing shaky as she glanced at it.

“I'd like to ask you a favor.” Jack began, catching her attention. She had a suspicion of what he might be hinting at after their conversation. “You and Abigail Hobbs share some, overlapping aspects in your past. I want you to talk to her,” he requested.

Bingo.

“You have Will Graham, a man with an empathic mind who can understand anyone. I'm sure he can determine if Abigail Hobbs was involved in her father's actions,” Sidonie reasoned.

“Convincing him to see things differently is a challenge. You've seen it yourself,” Jack responded, causing Sidonie to lean back on the table, feeling hesitant about the idea.

“Why do you doubt Will Graham?”

“I doubt his judgment regarding Hobbs's daughter, not him. Guilt can cloud anyone.”

Sidonie looked away slightly, acknowledging the truth in his words. Guilt was indeed a powerful blinder.

“According to the regulations, Abigail should have a psychologist,” Sidonie pointed out.

“She will.”

“Agent Crawford It’s beyond my duties to accept such a request. A psychologist should be able to figure out if she's hiding something.”

“Would you have more faith in someone who has experienced similar circumstances or someone attempting to understand them? Or are you perhaps also convinced that she is innocent? Is this something personal Agent Renard?” Jack countered, raising his eyebrows and inclining his head slightly.

Sidonie stared at him for a moment, aware of the implication.

Despite her irritation at Jack's request, she knew better than to let her emotions cloud her judgment, especially when dealing with someone in authority. She sighed deeply.

“I'm certain Will Graham won't be pleased with this plan.”

“I'll talk to him. Or I'll get Hannibal to do it.”

Sidonie shook her head slightly, as she turned around. She had deduced that Hannibal was a psychiatrist who had been present at Hobbs's death with Will.

The idea of an unknown presence unsettled her.

“I doubt he'll warm up to the idea,”

“He'll have to adjust,”

“Accusing someone without evidence is just as serious as proclaiming a killer's innocence,” she reminded him, giving him a meaningful look. “I don't want my professional reputation to suffer because of actions I took while I was asked to fulfill certain duties,” Sidonie stated firmly.

Jack observed her, biting inside his cheek.

He admired how she stood her ground while staying professional. He got why she hesitated. Her reputation had taken hits from her dad and old colleagues. More rumors or hostility could harm her credibility, affecting not just her job now but what comes next.

“I'll ensure history doesn't repeat itself,”

Rejecting Jack's proposal didn't seem like the wisest choice for her. She understood that refusing him could potentially strain their professional relationship, especially given Jack's reaction to Will Graham's statement about Abigail.

As Sidonie pondered the copycat killer and its potential link to the Hobbs family, she wondered if there could be some connection there.

She recalled Will mentioning an unidentified phone call during the lecture.

She collected her notebook, signaling the end of the conversation.

“You won't be able to repair my reputation if things go wrong.”

“It won't,” Jack asserted confidently.

"Goodnight, Agent Crawford," Sidonie bid farewell as she left the office, her footsteps echoing on the ground.

Jack watched her go, knowing she had accepted the offer.

In the dimly lit hospital room, Will Graham sits quietly, his gaze fixed on Abigail Hobbs, who lies comatose in her bed. Suddenly, the sound of hooves echoes through the hallway, drawing Will's attention to the door. A large black stag passes by, ignoring him completely.

Will rises from his seat and follows the animal's path. It disappears into one of the rooms just as the hallway lights begin to dim. Will remains still, closing his eyes slowly.

When he opens them again, he hears a soft, familiar voice.

Alana is there, reading a book to the unconscious Abigail. Will looks around the room, noticing a blanket draped over him that he doesn't remember putting on. He rests his head on the arm of the couch, listening quietly to Alana.

After a moment, he sighs softly, interrupting her.

“What are you reading?” Alana glanced back at Will, then returned her gaze to the book.

“Flannery O'Connor. When I was Abigail's age I was obsessed. I even tried to raise peacocks because she raised peacocks, but they're really stupid birds.”

“You could be reading to a killer,” Will remarked lowly, shifting slightly.

“Innocent until proven guilty and all that,” Alana replied, closing the book nervously. Will noticed her hesitation. “I'm about to broach the subject of that “match made in hell” article.”

He briefly glanced at Abigail, recalling the discomfort he and Sidonie had shared over the article. Will shifted in his seat.

“Oh, that. Did Jack send you?”

“No, I send me,” she smiled, causing a slight swell in Will's heart.

“I don't think we've ever been in a room alone together. Have we?” Will remarked.

“I haven't noticed. Have we?” Alana's voice was lighter. She glanced between Will and Abigail, smiling. “Not that we're necessarily alone now.”

Will lifted his head, stretching slightly. His hair was tousled, and his eyes were partially closed.

“Back to… Jack Crawford's crime gimp,”

“It certainly creates an image, I don't need to talk about it if you don't.”

“No, no we can talk about or not talk about whatever you want" he assured her, smiling slightly and signing with a hint of uncertainty. Alana looked at him, puzzled by his statement.

“Honestly… I was enjoying listening to you read,” he confessed, leaning back and flashing a smile, revealing his teeth.

Alana allowed herself a genuine smile in return.

“Abigail Hobbs is a success for you.”

Will remained silent at her statement, his gaze fixed on Abigail and her condition. His voice softened.

“She doesn't look like a success.”

“Don't feel sorry for yourself because you saved this girl's life.”

“I don't,” Will insisted, running his hands over his face. “I don't feel sorry for myself... at all,” he added after a moment, furrowing his brows as a realization dawned on him.

“I feel... good.”

Freddie Lounds, visibly shaken and blood-spattered, is attended to by paramedics while a police officer's body is wheeled toward an awaiting ambulance. She calls out to Jack.

“Miss Lounds?” Jack approaches, dismissing the officer beside him. “Are you alright?”

“Where's Will Graham?” Freddie's gaze searches the area anxiously.

“We have an eye witness to the murder. We don't need Will Graham,”

“No, that’s not why I am asking,” Freddie shakes her head, her expression troubled. Jack realizes this and instructs the officers to find Will Graham as Freddie begins to explain. “He was talking about people sharing the same properties of a fungus. Thoughts leaping from brain to brain. They mutate. They evolve.”

“What does he want with Will Graham?”

“Someone who understands him,” Freddie replies, causing Jack to pause. “Graham was right. Stammets is looking for connections.”

“What did you tell him?” Jack's tone is firm, demanding answers. “I need to know exactly what you told Eldon Stammets about Will Graham.”

“I told him about the Hobbs girl,” Freddie admits, her eyes distant.

“What exactly did you tell him?”

“Everything," Freddie confesses. “He wants to help Will Graham connect with Abigail Hobbs. He's going to bury her.”

The hospital elevator doors slide open, and Will Graham steps out. His phone rings, and he answers it, listening intently to Jack's voice. His expression shifts, a hint of concern creeping in.

He quickly tucks his cell phone into his back pocket and reaches into his pants, retrieving a revolver. With measured steps, he makes his way into Abigail's room.

The room is empty. No Eldon Stammets. No Abigail Hobbs.

Will's thoughts race as he backs out into the hallway and approaches the reception desk. He looks at the nurse and asks for answers, his tone urgent.

“Where is she? Abigail Hobbs. The girl in this 408. Where is she?”

“They took her for tests,” she stammers nervously.

“Who took her? Who took her?!” Will's frustration mounts, his face turning to annoyance. Without waiting for an answer, he dashes down the hallway, gun in hand.

Bounding down the stairs, Will rushes through the hallway, his eyes scanning for Eldon.

“Hey!” he shouts upon spotting him, aiming. Eldon turns, and his shoulder is suddenly struck by a bullet.

He falls to the ground, clutching his arm in pain as his gun tumbles from his grasp. Will swiftly kicks the weapon out of reach before checking Abigail's pulse, his gaze never leaving Eldon.

“What were you planning to do with her?” he hisses through his teeth.

“We evolved from mycelium. Only reintroducing her to the concept.” Eldon explains, his voice strained with pain.

“By burying her alive?” Will's tone is sharp, his disbelief evident.

“The journalist said you understood me,”

“I don't,”

"Well, you would have. You would have. If you walk into a field of mycelium, they know you're there. They know you're there,” Eldon desperately tries to explain. “Their spores reach out for you as you pass by. I know who you're reaching for. I know,” he adds, his gaze shifting to Abigail. Will listens in silence as Eldon continues.

“Abigail Hobbs. You should have let me plant her. You would have found her in a field where she could finally reach back.”

Will’s anger is evident in his gaze, although upon hearing footsteps approach he quickly presses the emergency stop button.

He leans against the doorway as the cops, nurses, and paramedics approach.

Will stands in Hannibal's office, his back turned to the elegant man.

“When you shot Eldon Stammets... who was it that you saw?” Hannibal inquires as Will's gaze shifts nervously.

“I didn't see Hobbs,”

“Then it's not Hobbs' ghost that's haunting you, is it?” Hannibal's tone softens slightly. “It's the inevitability of there being a man so bad that killing him felt good.”

“Killing Hobbs felt Just,” Will asserts firmly, recalling the act.

“Which is why you're here. To prove that sprig of zest you feel is from saving Abigail not killing her dad.” Hannibal explains. Will closes his eyes, struggling with his thoughts.

“I didn't feel a sprig of zest when I shot Eldon Stammets,” Will argues

"You didn't kill Eldon Stammets," Hannibal clarifies, meeting Will's gaze calmly. Will clenches his jaw, reluctantly admitting.

“I thought about it. I'm still not entirely sure that wasn't my intention of pulling the trigger,” he confesses, turning to look at Hannibal, searching for his reaction. Hannibal remains composed, offering no visible response.

“If your intention was to kill him, it's because you understand why he did the things he did. It's beautiful in its own way. Giving voice to the unmentionable.”

Their eyes meet for a moment. Will shakes his head.

“I should have stuck to fixing boat motors in Louisiana,” Will jests, taking a seat. Hannibal chuckles softly.

“A boat engine is a machine. A predictable problem, easy to solve. You fail, there's a paddle. Where was your paddle with Hobbs?” Hannibal inquires, moving to sit directly across from him.

“You're supposed to be my paddle,”

“I am,” Hannibal affirms, mimicking Will's gesture.

“It wasn't the act of killing Hobbs that got you down, was it?” Hannibal pauses, letting the question linger.

Will contemplates for a moment, his thoughts racing.

“Did you really feel so bad because killing him felt so good?”

“I liked killing Hobbs,” Will confesses.

Hannibal leans in, a sense of satisfaction evident in his demeanor. Though his expression remains unchanged, there's a subtle understanding in his voice.

“Killing must feel good to God, too. He does it all the time, and are we not created in his image?” Will avoids the question, looking down at his hands.

“That depends on who you ask,”

“God's terrific. He dropped a church roof on thirty-four of his worshippers last Wednesday night in Texas, while they sang a hymn.”

“Did God feel good about that?” Will asks.

Hannibal pauses, locking eyes with Will and tilting his head slightly.

“He felt powerful.”

Jack entered the lab, taking in the busy scene of forensic analysts at work. Beverly greeted him and informed him that the evidence had been handed over.

Jack scanned the room and spotted Sidonie, who was conversing with one of the clerks about handling specific evidence.

He called her over, and Sidonie excused herself from the clerk and approached Jack and Beverly.

“Follow me,” Jack instructed, leading the way. Sidonie glanced back at Beverly, who gave her an encouraging thumbs up.

Sidonie quickened her pace catching up with him. She stayed quiet, sensing it likely pertained to yesterday’s discussion.

As Jack opened the door to his office, she stepped in, her gaze immediately falling on a man she didn't recognize, dressed in a dark blue suit with brown stripes.

Jack closed the door behind them, ensuring it was locked.

The man turned to face them as he heard the door close, his eyes meeting Sidonie's with a hint of recognition from a photograph he had seen.

“Dr. Lecter, this is Special Agent Sidonie Renard,” Jack introduced, gesturing towards Sidonie.

“Sidonie, this is Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He will be assisting us with insights on the Painters case.”

[rebeccathenaturalist]

The above link includes articles on lost mushroom hunters in the Pacific Northwest over the past ten years. Many of these people were found deceased, and others were very lucky to have been found alive.

One of the things I really emphasize with foraging is safety, and not just the danger of picking something poisonous. While some people come into this practice with a realistic idea of the risks involved, others have....well, let's just call it a romanticized idea of foraging. They're not wrong in that it can be a fun, fulfilling activity that gets you all kinds of tasty things. But you have to be able to also navigate what can go wrong.

This is especially true for foragers who decide to go off-trail. I see this especially with people looking for mushrooms, because the lure of potential huge flushes of chanterelles, morels, and the like frequently leads people to head out onto public land in areas without marked trails. Sure, these locations are less heavily traveled and so it's more likely you'll stumble across a patch that no one else has gotten to yet. But--you're also more likely to get lost.

I personally tend to not go off-trail because I know for a fact that my sense of direction is abysmal (I've managed to convince myself I was lost on an out-and-back trail more than once.) But if I did, here's what I would do to mitigate the chances of getting lost:

--Take a GPS unit. These make finding your way back a lot easier, especially if you're able to drop pins as you go along or even digitally mark your trail.

--Take a map and compass and know how to use them: GPS isn't perfect, especially if signal is sketchy, and if your battery dies, well, there you go. So a topographic map and a compass make a good backup--if you know how to use them. Many urban areas in the U.S. have orienteering clubs, and failing that there's always YouTube.

--Take biodegradable flagging tape and tie bits of it to branches along the way. Then follow that path back when you're done, taking the tape with you as you go. If you miss one or two, they'll break down pretty quickly. DON'T leave the tape up on purpose to keep the trail to your patch of mushrooms or berries, though; not only are you adding plastic to the local environment, but you're leaving a trail for anyone who finds it.

--Take a friend! If something happens to one of you, the other can go for help. Or, if you're like me, only go off-trail with someone who's much better at orienteering than you are.

[nicnak20]

The cake artist:

*A cake decorator's beautiful designs, entice a young woman.*

The scent of exhaust fumes mingled with the tantalizing aroma of street food, a typical Thursday afternoon symphony in the City of Angels. Yn, with her sleek ponytail swaying gently and her brow furrowed in concentration as she navigated the lunchtime crowd, was on a mission for the perfect almond croissant. Her usual bakery was inexplicably closed, and her craving was proving remarkably persistent.

Rounding a corner, she almost collided with a man laden with what looked like an architect's blueprints. “Oh, excuse me!” she exclaimed, catching herself just in time. He smiled, a warm, genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his brown eyes. “No worries at all,” he chuckled, righting himself and his stack of papers. It was that smile, gentle and kind, that lingered in Yn’s mind even as she continued on her croissant quest.

Then, she saw it. Tucked away between a trendy boutique and a bustling juice bar, was a storefront painted in soft pastel hues. The sign, in elegant swirling script, read: “Sweet Surrender – Cakes & Confections.” But it wasn't the name that stopped Yn in her tracks. It was the window display.

Cakes, in all shapes and sizes, adorned the window like edible works of art. A towering cascade of sugar roses cascaded down one, petals so delicate they seemed to tremble in the imagined breeze. Another cake, a whimsical creation resembling a moss-covered forest floor, was dotted with tiny, impossibly detailed sugar mushrooms. A third, a sleek and modern masterpiece, shimmered with edible gold leaf, making Yn’s breath catch in her throat. These weren't just cakes; they were stories told in sugar and frosting.

Intrigued beyond measure, Yn forgot all about her croissant craving. She pushed open the door, a small bell tinkling merrily above, and stepped into a world that smelled of vanilla, butter, and pure magic. The air inside was cool and calm, a welcome respite from the Californian heat outside. Soft jazz music played in the background, and the display cases lining the walls were filled with even more exquisite creations. Cupcakes crowned with swirls of buttercream that resembled miniature galaxies, cookies decorated with intricate floral patterns, and pastries that gleamed like jewels.

Behind the counter, a man with dark brown hair and warm brown eyes, the same captivating brown eyes she’d briefly encountered on the street, was carefully arranging a tray of macarons. He was humming softly to the music, his movements precise and graceful, like an artist coaxing life onto a blank canvas.

He looked up as Yn entered, and that same warm, genuine smile lit up his face again. “Welcome to Sweet Surrender,” he said, his voice as smooth and inviting as the velvety chocolate ganache on display. “Anything I can help you with?”

Yn felt a blush rise to her cheeks. “I… I just saw your window display,” she stammered, gesturing vaguely towards the street. “They’re… they’re incredible. Are these all your creations?”

He chuckled, a pleasant sound that filled the small shop. “Yes, they are. I’m Nicholas, by the way.” He extended a hand across the counter, his fingers dusted lightly with powdered sugar.

“Yn,” she replied, shaking his hand. His grip was gentle but firm, and his touch sent a surprising flutter through her. “It’s… truly amazing work, Nicholas. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Nicholas beamed, his brown eyes sparkling with genuine passion. “Thank you. I love what I do. It’s more than just baking for me. It’s about creating something beautiful, something that brings joy to people.”

Yn found herself drawn to his earnestness, to the quiet passion that emanated from him. She spent the next few minutes simply admiring the cakes, asking questions, and listening to Nicholas describe his techniques and inspirations. He spoke with such enthusiasm about the artistry of cake decorating, the delicate balance of flavors, and the joy of seeing someone’s face light up when they saw one of his creations.

She learned that he had always loved baking since he was a child, experimenting in his grandmother’s kitchen. He’d trained in France, honing his skills, and had recently opened Sweet Surrender to share his passion with Los Angeles. It was clear that this wasn’t just a job for him; it was a labor of love.

Finally, Yn, remembering her initial mission, pointed to a plate of almond croissants. “Actually,” she said, a playful smile on her face, “I was originally looking for an almond croissant. Yours look… well, they look as exquisite as everything else here.”

Nicholas laughed, a warm, cheerful sound. “Of course! Let me get you the freshest one.” He carefully selected a croissant, its golden layers glistening with butter, and placed it on a small plate. “On the house,” he added with a wink. “Consider it a welcome to Sweet Surrender.”

Yn’s heart fluttered again. “Thank you, Nicholas,” she said, accepting the croissant. She took a bite, and her eyes widened. It was flaky, buttery, and filled with a rich, fragrant almond cream. It was, without a doubt, the best almond croissant she had ever tasted.

She spent the next hour in Sweet Surrender, savoring her croissant, sipping a fragrant cup of coffee that Nicholas had insisted on making for her, and talking to him. They discovered a shared love for old movies, a mutual appreciation for jazz music, and a surprisingly similar sense of humor. Nicholas was kind, gentle, and genuinely interested in what she had to say. He listened attentively, his brown eyes never leaving hers, and his questions were thoughtful and insightful.

As the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the street, Yn realized she had to leave. “Thank you for the croissant, and the coffee, and… for just being so lovely,” she said, feeling a little shy.

Nicholas smiled, and his eyes held a warmth that made her breath catch. “The pleasure was all mine, Yn. It was wonderful meeting you.” He paused, then, a touch of nervousness creeping into his voice, “Perhaps… perhaps you might come back sometime? Maybe for another croissant, or… or to try one of my cakes?”

Yn’s heart leaped. “I would love that,” she said, her smile radiant. “In fact…” she hesitated, then took a leap of faith, “I have a friend’s birthday coming up next month. I was thinking of getting her a really special cake. Would you… would you be able to make something?”

Nicholas’ smile widened, genuine delight lighting up his face. “Absolutely! I would be honored. Tell me about your friend. What does she like?”

And so, Yn found herself describing her friend’s personality, her favorite colors, and her passions, while Nicholas listened intently, sketching ideas on a notepad. As they talked about cakes and birthdays, Yn realized that she wasn’t just interested in Nicholas’ cakes anymore. She was interested in Nicholas himself.

Over the next few weeks, Yn found herself drawn back to Sweet Surrender again and again. She’d stop by for a coffee before work, or a pastry on her lunch break, always finding an excuse to spend a few minutes in Nicholas’ warm and cheerful company. They talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories, dreams, and laughter. Yn discovered that Nicholas was not only incredibly talented and kind, but also incredibly smart, with a sharp wit and a gentle understanding of the world. He was patient and thoughtful, always making her feel seen and appreciated.

As Nicholas worked on the birthday cake for Yn’s friend, he poured his heart and soul into it. He asked Yn for details about her friend’s personality, her likes and dislikes, wanting to create something that was truly personal and meaningful. He kept Yn updated on the cake’s progress, sending her pictures and descriptions of the intricate sugar flowers he was creating, the delicate frosting techniques he was using.

When the day finally arrived to pick up the cake, Yn was breathless. It was even more beautiful than she could have imagined. A three-tiered masterpiece adorned with hand-painted watercolor flowers, delicate sugar butterflies, and shimmering edible pearls. It was a testament to Nicholas’ skill and artistry, but also, Yn suspected, a reflection of his kind and loving heart.

As Yn paid for the cake, their fingers brushed across the counter, and a spark ignited between them, undeniable and electric. Nicholas’ brown eyes met hers, and in their warm depths, Yn saw not just admiration, but something deeper, something that mirrored the feelings blossoming in her own heart.

“Yn,” Nicholas began, his voice a little husky, “I… I really enjoy spending time with you.”

Yn’s heart pounded in her chest. “I enjoy spending time with you too, Nicholas,” she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. “Would you… would you like to have dinner with me? Sometime? Not here, of course,” he added with a shy smile, gesturing around the bakery. “Somewhere… somewhere outside of cake world?”

Yn laughed, a joyful, light sound. “I would love that, Nicholas,” she said, her smile radiant.

As Yn walked out of Sweet Surrender that day, carrying the beautiful birthday cake carefully in her hands, she knew she had found something truly special. It wasn't just the cakes that had enticed her into Sweet Surrender; it was the warmth, the kindness, and the gentle devotion of the man who created them.

And as she looked forward to their first dinner date, she knew that her craving for sweetness had been satisfied in more ways than one. Her life, like one of Nicholas’ exquisite creations, was just beginning to layer up into something truly beautiful. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of sugar magic too.

[blvcklizard]

I'm trying to make sense of the whole "Castti and Trousseau accidentally ended up in Lostseed and nothing happened (besides Trousseau going completely insane)" thing for a fic and... I think I've actually found a possible answer.

It bothered me so much that afaik it's never elaborated on how they got there. Like, it's not exactly a place you can just "stumble into" by chance. I don't remember if there's another way to Lostseed, but even if the game doesn't let you access it, there has to be a way outside of New Delsta, because like... why would you look for herbs in the sewers, lol. That path would have to be pretty well hidden though. So I was thinking, what if someone led them there? Not the whole way of course, but what if someone deliberately pushed them in a direction that would lead them to Lostseed?

It makes sense that there'd be a "guard" of sorts, since Claude is quite the social guy, but if you let too many or the wrong people visit, they might cause major trouble. So Claude and/or the moonshade order probably has people for exactly this situation, to control who gets to visit Lostseed. I see two groups suited for this job.

The first option is that it was a moonshade follower. (I know we're on the Eastern continent here, but since they're perfectly aware of who Mindt is, it doesn't seem that far off to assume some of them are active around there too.) Since it was Claude's objective to make Trousseau and Castti join the moonshade order for all I know, it seems likely that it was a mission for its people.

But there's the less likely but far more interesting possibility that it was a blacksnake. They have control over the entry in the sewers after all, and they're supposed to find their way to Lostseed at one point; it makes perfect sense that Claude would use them as navigators, both to lead people to him, and to see if they figure out their own way there.

You see where I'm going with this.

Imagine Throné losing her mind for the first few days after meeting Castti because she's sure they've met before (and Castti's amnesia doesn't help it at all). She eventually brushes it off and essentially forgets about it, until they get to Lostseed/find Ori's journal and connect the dots and fuck, it all makes sense now. Not in the best way, though.

Alternatively, if Pirro pretended to be a regular citizen out to look for mushrooms or something... I feel like him and Trousseau would have gotten along quite well. Their personalities might be a good match. All aside from how they've both had rather simple, good-faith things they wanted in life that were corrupted by their circumstances (and Claude).

[the-fiction-witch]

Bad Idea

Media The Maze Runner

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Sexy + Flirty

Concept Argument

Requested Anonymous asked:

Hiii i really love your fics and I would like to ask if you haven't already done it where newt and reader get into an argument about her being a runner because you scared that she'll get hurt or even worse die but it ends all with fluff and there was also wondering if you could make it to where he normally calls her love but whenever he gets really mad he calls her by her name Thanks xxx

"I don't think this is a good idea love," Newt says leaning on the wood inside the meeting hall his hoodie around his waist and his arms across his chest 

"You say that about everything I do"

"...I mean you do have a track record of bad ideas"

"What no I don't!"

"What about that time you tried to build bunk beds as a hammock alternative and ended up breaking Ben and Zart's legs?"

"One time. Maybe if Zart went on top as I told him to It wouldn't have collapsed. I told Ben he was too heavy for the top bunk"

"No, you used a total of four screws on the whole thing"

"Fine one time. Not like I make a lot of bad ideas?"

"What about that time you set fire to a tree because you thought it would clear all the green foliage and smaller beaches leaving only the main tree to cut down but it got way out of control and you burnt down half the deadheads?" 

"I admit the dryness of the wood was an unforeseen circumstance, and the trees being too close together"

"What about that time you got the smart idea to cook a bunch of mushrooms you found behind the showers and gave the whole glade food poisoning"

"I was fine"

"What about that time you tried to build a 'outdoor bath'"

"That would have worked if you hadn't stopped me" 

"Now we just have a huge damp hole"

"Not all my ideas are bad"

"This one is"

"Why?"

"Love your not cut out to run in the maze every day"

"Yes I am"

"No you’re not, it's a lot of running, a lot of work, a lot of memorising" he explained 

"You can do it why can't I?"

"Because love it's a tough job"

"It's because I'm a girl isn't it"

"It's not because you're a girl."

"Then why can't I be a runner"

"Look love the maze is big and harsh and dangerous for a girl like you”

"So it is because I'm a girl!"

"It's not because you're a girl!"

"Then why!"

"Love the maze is dangerous, it changes every day, it's hard to navigate, you could get lost, you could trip on a vine and twist your ankle, hell there's cracks and blocks you could break your leg on. And we don't have time for someone to go out and find you if something bad happened…"

"I'd have a running partner" 

"That's not the point you could get really badly hurt in the maze"

"So could you" 

He sighed "love… I can't in good conscience send you out into the maze. I just can't. You could get hurt, badly hurt. If you got lost or something bad happened, what if you got locked out after the doors shut one day? We'd never see you again. Something could happen so easily in there it's just not safe"

"But I want to help, I feel like klunk stuck in the glade doing laundry and cleaning I feel useless newt I want to help you guys another pair of feet out there can't be a bad thing" 

"It's just too dangerous, love. You could die." 

"So could you"

For a moment there was silence

"It's not your decision anyway"

"I may not be the keeper of the runners but I'm second on command and I'm telling you no."

"But I wanna be a runner!"

"And in telling you no! It's too dangerous it's not happening!"

"You can't stop me! I'll just go on my own"

"You are not going out on your own"

"I am"

"Like bloody hell you are!" 

"You can't stop me!"

"Y/n enough!" 

I froze up the moment he said that 

"Y/n enough, I'm second in command your not being a runner and you're not to go in the maze that's final" 

"You… you've never called me that before"

"...well… you've never made me that mad before," he says shuffling his feet

"Do you really think it's too dangerous?"

"For you. Yeah. I've lost a lot of friends to this place … I can't lose you too" 

"Well then how do you think I feel? Watching you run off in there every day. If you don't think it's safe for me how do you think that makes me feel watching you run off in there knowing you…might not come back"

"You don't have to worry about me love. I can take care of myself" 

"Then don't you trust that I can take care of myself?" 

He sighed "Okay… I'll have a word with Minho about it I can't promise anything, But you're going through training at least a month before you even step foot through those doors you hear me" 

"Thank you newt!" I smiled hugging him tightly

"I'm not making any promises. And I'll be the one training you so don't expect me to be nice"

"I won't" I smiled squeezing his skinny body

"Just…be careful y/n, okay?" He says petting my hair 

"I will, don't you trust me?"

"I do I just… I worry about you"

"Well, I'm sure my running partner will keep me nice and safe" I smiled rubbing my nose on his 

"Now that is a bad idea"

"Why? The best person to make sure I'm being kept safe is you, and you'll be doing my training anyway so best to keep us in a rhythm and you can just be my running partner" 

"That is a very bad idea"

"Why?"

"Well, once we leave we're in the maze officially out of alby’s glade rules, all alone in the maze together," he suggested stroking the small of my back 

"I'm not seeing the bad yet?"

"Well, I'm hardly going to want to focus on memorising maze patterns am I? I think I'd be far interested in a different type of exploring" he smirked 

"I'm still not seeing what's bad about that?"

"You wouldn't" he smirked tugging me into a kiss which I smiled and happily kissed back it immediately turning into a rather slow but sloppy make-out till he pulled back "Come on love, how about we go do a little endurance training?"

"Ohh will my legs get tired?"

"Most definitely" he smirked "but if you push through it you'll get a very special reward" he smiled kissing my head before we headed out towards my little privet hut in the deadheads.

[natsaffection]

You don't need to answer this if it makes you uncomfortable but here's my advice I guess. Tell me if this is inappropriate, please. First of all, I think it's really important for you to take some alone time to think about your future. It's totally understandable that your girlfriend is thinking more about family and settling down as it probably feels more urgent to her right now with her age. Just like it's totally okay for you to pursue your job or dreams. But sometimes (actually most of the time), we make plans that don't end up happening. You didn't expect to have an accident but a change in plans doesn't mean the whole foundation of your relationship crumbles. When you can, you should have a long and honest conv with your girlfriend. Talk about how you could reshape your future together while still respecting both of your needs. It's going to be hard and messy but growth is messy. Especially when you're in a relationship with a big age gap because you both experience life stages soo differently. And I'm not saying that an age gap makes a relationship impossible, of course not but it can make navigating challenges a bit more difficult. That is why communication becomes even more essential. You both need to be honest about your needs and listen to each other's. Ask yourself about what do you want your future to look like? Not what feels like an obligation but what you truly want. And if that future still includes her, then think about how that can realistically fit into the life you're building now. I know nothing about how army contracts work, especially in Germany, but from what I've heard, it's pretty complicated to leave before the end of the contract. I'm not here to tell you what to do, it's your life and your relationship. I just want you to look at all your options here. If leaving early were possible and it aligned with what you want in a long-term, maybe that's something to consider. Again, you know better what's possible or not. You should also ask yourself this: if you hadn't had the accident (which is not your fault) and you both had settled down, would you actually want to start a family? If the answer is yes, then maybe that needs to be part of your future vision. You want to build a life with her, you want a family but your job keeps you away for long periods. So starting a family right now may not be realistic. But what compromises could be made so that starting a family within the next five years could still be an option?

I know this is a really hard situation you're in so please, be kind to yourself, be honest to yourself and her. Both your feelings and needs are valid, so let's have an open communication with mutual respect. And yeah sometimes, distractions at work can help and are necessary but when you're facing something this big, you do need to think about it even if it's scary and uncomfortable. Sending you so much love and strength. You are doing good. Take all the time you need. (i took my time writing this but i'm lacking of sleep so i really hope that what i wrote is understandable and clear) - Your mushroom

Thank you for taking the time to write this. 🩵 I know we definitely need to talk about it, and I’m sure she’ll open up when the time comes, but I’m just scared I’ll hear the words I don’t want to hear. Like, I’m honestly crazy in love with her…I don’t even know how to explain it. This is my longest relationship so far, we just had our 3-year anniversary in March, and every time I see her, I still think, ‘That’s my girlfriend.’ A crazy, stunning woman who rescues helpless guinea pigs from the internet :,)

And at the same time, I completely understand her. One of the first real questions she asked when we started dating was if I was open to having kids. And hell yeah (I will be the coolest mom on this earth) She was so happy to find someone who felt the same (after her ex wife) WIFE!!!

And it’s not just the thoughts I’m scared of anymore, it’s already becoming real. We’ve already had a small talk here and there, quick conversations in passing, full of ‘what ifs’… and now? Silence. I haven’t seen her in like a week. Even my mum asked me if I was fine, lol.

And just for the record, it was my fault. (I don’t want to sound picky!!) I actually laugh about it now, because honestly, I was just being stupid and I lost hearing in my right ear because of it, hahah. I think it’s just my way of processing things, some weird stage of grief, maybe. But honestly? I’m kind of proud of my little war scar now.🫱🏼‍🫲🏻🙂‍↔️

But seriously, thank you. I really appreciate your words, they’ve eased the fear a little. I’m just an overthinker and already spiraling into worst-case scenarios 🫂

[radix-outpost]

I don't discuss it all that often, but I have a fondness for Mario; unlike stuff like Sonic or Megaman, though, I don't think I had any coherent AU ideas ("coherent" doing a lot of heavy lifting there). Time to fix that.

The basic conceit is "another adaptation the likes of which Nintendo would never sign off on today", influenced by SMB '93 (note Mario's, Luigi's, and Daisy's outfits) with some "The Great Mission to Rescue Princess Peach" thrown in (Haru's presence, the basis for the Toads).

Notes below:

Mario: the hero, as per usual. Worked as a freelance plumber alongside his brother Luigi in New Donk City until circumstances brought the two and Pauline to the Mushroom Kingdom. A jovial, compassionate guy who is also way too good at combat acrobatics for someone who claims that he was "just" a plumber.

Luigi: the lancer. As shaken as he is by this sudden turn of events, Luigi is doing his best to face everything head-on; unlike Mario, he prefers outmaneuvering his enemies over fighting them directly. Boyfriend of Pauline.

Peach: the runaway royal. Peach heads to the Metro Kingdom to try and get away from her wicked aunt, Queen Lena, only to dive right back into the Mushroom Kingdom to set things right. She attempts to pass herself off as a civilian to the Mario Bros., with limited success.

Prince Haru: the other runaway royal. After failing to reel in his mother Lena, Haru tracks down Peach and accidentally blows her cover. He's a skilled diplomat, but too fragile to provide anything out on the field except buffs. Takes a shine to Mario after the plumber rescues him from Bowser's forces.

Toadette: a Mushroomian and Peach's best buddy. She joins up with the heroes not long after they arrive in the Mushroom Kingdom, helping them to navigate the place after they (sans Haru) end up on Queen Lena's "wanted" list.

Daisy: the last descendant of the long-gone Sarasaland royal family. Daisy works as an archaeologist; her findings place her in Bowser's crosshairs, though he swiftly comes to regret sending minions after a woman who can punch Koopas into next week. Infatuated with Peach.

Pauline: a down-on-her-luck singer who was rooming with the Mario Bros. Just when it seemed like things couldn't get worse, this gorilla in a jaunty tie grabs her and legs it out of the Metro Kingdom--though not to kidnap her, as it turns out. Pauline is still a bit sore about that, though.

Yoshi: a member of the self-named species; this Yoshi may or may not be one of the Yoshis that the Mario Bros. faintly recall being surrounded by as very young children. He's on the runty side and thus too small for anyone but Toadette to ride, but he helps out where he can.

--

Other stuff:

As you might've noticed, I'm not going with the canon pairings here, because I like making things harder on myself doing things different. This AU concept has Mario/Haru, Peach/Daisy, and Luigi/Pauline.

Haru's design changed a lot between OVA and AU; my main concern was figuring out a colour palette that worked. The skirt was influenced by some art of CrystalCrowned. Story-wise, Haru's no longer the prince of the Flower Kingdom (especially not when Wonder introduced its own take), nor betrothed to Peach.

Peach's mother here was a nun, Sister Hildy; the King outlived her by about ten years before succumbing to illness. The Mushroom Kingdom's weird succession laws allowed Lena to take the throne before Peach or Haru.

Yes, that's Lena from SMB '93.

I like modern Yoshi well enough, but trying to figure out how their sphere-snouts work is an exercise best left to someone else. This Yoshi is based on older artwork.

[myautismisnowyourproblem]

Femalash February Day 9- Coworker or Role Swap alternate universe

Nature Wives (Katherine x Shubble), Empires SMP 1

Katherine stepped back, looking at the small home she made in the hill. It wasn’t much, but it was a good start. All she needed was somewhere to rest and while she started up a farm, after all. Speaking of which, she needed to gather seeds before anything else.

She turned around, and locked eyes with someone hiding in the treeline. They screamed, which made Katherine scream. They then ran away.

“W- wait!” Katherine ran after the stranger, “it’s okay!”

The stranger didn’t respond, so Katherine focused on chasing them through the woods. She grew up near a forest, so she could navigate run through trees better than anyone. The stranger was slowing down to avoid running into trees, which meant Katherine could gain on them.

Eventually, she managed to grab their hand.

They turned back to face Katherine, a look at panic on their face.

“Hey, you’re okay. Just, uh, how about we come back to my place?” Katherine offered.

They nodded. “Um, okay. Sure.”

Once they were in the little home Katherine had made, she sat down on the couch. The stranger stayed standing, wringing their hands nervously.

“We started off on the wrong foot, so let me introduce myself. The name is Katherine Blossom, nice to meet you!” Katherine smiled as welcomingly as she could.

“I’m… I’m Shelby,” the stranger replied, extending her hand, which Katherine happily shook. Shelby was notably taller than Katherine, with pointed ears and golden eyes and long brown hair, which was braided down her back. She had yellow wings sprouting from her back, which fluttered slightly, and wore a light green summery dress. She was some sort of fae, and unfairly pretty. “Nice to meet you, Katherine.”

Katherine stood up, getting an idea. “You hungry? I don’t have much but I can make some soup. I can make a killer mushroom stew.”

Shelby smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Katherine went to grab a bowl and turn on the furnace. “So, what exactly were you doing in the trees?”

Shelby was quiet for a moment, fidgeting awkwardly with her dress. “I was on a walk and heard some noise and I… I saw you and,” her face flushed pink, “I got distracted just watching you work.”

Katherine chuckled. “I see. Well, since you’re here, after we eat would you like to help me set up a farm?”

“Sure! If you’d like, I could come by tomorrow with seeds.”

“I’d love that.” Katherine couldn’t stop smiling. So new to this world and she’d already made a friend. She bet her village would be proud.

[cleverwordsandotherstuffilike]

Survival Mistakes That Can Get You Killed

Going Alone

There are numerous reasons that people go into the wilderness alone, but are these reasons worth your life? Each time you head out into the back-country alone, you expose yourself to additional risk. Without a buddy, there’s no one to go for help if you become immobilized. Without a partner, predators will take more interest in you. Without a friend, you may not get a tourniquet on fast enough. Before you head out alone, take a moment to reconsider.

Getting Lost

The #1 reason for a search and rescue (SAR) incident on land is that someone has gotten lost, but staying “found” isn’t always as easy as you might think. Tim MacWelch

Even with the latest and greatest technology available, our national parks were the backdrop to more than 65,000 search and rescue (SAR) incidents between 1992 and 2007. Approximately 40 percent of these cases involved lost individuals or groups. That’s a lot of lost people, and there are a lot of different ways these folks got lost.

The best way to prevent getting lost is to get more familiar with land navigation. It’s not enough to bring a map and compass with you into the wild. You’ll need to know how to shoot an azimuth and back azimuth, account for declination, and determine distances (among many other skills). You’ll also need to know that steel or iron objects can pull your compass needle away from magnetic north, so keep your rifle barrel away from your compass as you take bearings.

(Not-so) Edible Plants and Mushrooms

The wilderness is full of delicious and wholesome wild foods, as well as a good number of dangerous things that happen to look like food. Tim MacWelch

According to the NCBI, roughly 39 people per year are seriously harmed by ingesting the wrong mushrooms here in the United States (with an average of three fatalities per year). Plant poisonings are much harder numbers to average (yes, plants are different from mushrooms). With plant poisoning numbers being bolstered by little toddlers wolfing down mistletoe at Christmastime and teens trying to get high from random toxic wild plants, it’s very hard to estimate the true number of poisonings from outdoors people eating the wrong plant by mistake. The Centers for Poison Control lump everything together.

Failure To Light

The times when we need a fire the most are the times when fire can be the hardest to produce. Cold, windy, rainy conditions are prime time for hypothermia (the dangerous lowering of your body’s core temperature), and these are the toughest conditions for building a fire.

Even if you don’t expect to encounter wet weather, it’s never a bad idea to carry multiple fire starting implements and fuel that will burn even in wet and windy conditions. Products like UST’s WetFire cubes have been my favourite for years, though Vaseline soaked cotton balls are a close second place. Either of these fuels will light from sparks or flame (though flame is your better choice, hence all the Bic lighters I carry).

Cutting Corners

Your work ethic plays a serious role in your success as a survivor. If you do a crappy job building your shelter, you’ll pay for it when the hard rains come. If you don’t get enough firewood for the whole night, someone’s going to be stumbling around in the dark looking for sticks. Work hard on the task at hand, do a good job, go above and beyond, and stay with your task until the job is done. This means building a bomb-proof survival shelter—the first time around. It means dragging in a giant firewood pile. Always try to do your best, plus a little extra for insurance.

Mistaking Stubbornness for Tenacity

There’s a lot of wisdom in the old adage “If at first you don’t success, try, try, again.” There’s also a problem with this line of thinking. It’s critical for a survivor to understand the difference between things that are worth continuing and the things that need to be abandoned. It’s tempting to think of stubbornness as a good thing, like being too stubborn to die, but stubbornness is essentially this: beating your head into a brick wall, convinced that you will eventually break the wall down. Stubbornness is a condition that can be self-destructive and ultimately defeating. So what’s the better way through the brick wall? Do you keep trying something that isn’t working? Or do you take a big step back, do some problem solving and find another way through the wall (over, under, or around it)? Don’t let pride or ego fuel your stubbornness. Don’t keep throwing your dwindling matches at a crappy wet fire lay, just because you think it should light. If something isn’t working, find another way. That stubborn mindset can get you killed, or kill someone you love.

Not Passing the Dress Code

The clothing you choose will not only impact your comfort on the trail, but it can affect your very survival if things go south. Choose thick wool or synthetics for colder weather that may turn wet. Wear loose, lightweight, quick drying clothing when conditions are hot. Think about a few bright colored garments, for visibility and signaling for help. Functionality should always beat style when it comes to outdoor clothing.

Prevention: Dress in layers, bring extra clothes and pick the right fabrics for the situation.

Allowing Panic To Prevail

There are times when our own minds (and the fear they create) will be our own worst enemy. When stress and fear cause our bodies to release a cocktail of hormones and chemicals (preparing for a “fight or flight��� situation), it’s not unusual for a person to feel the sensation of panic. If you’ve never really been at the mercy of panic before, it is an unthinking and unrestrained form of fear which can manifest in several ways. You may find (after you have calmed down) that you ran around frantically with no clear plan in mind. You may also “wake up” from being frozen in a catatonic state of fear. You may even have overwhelming emotional responses (like crying inconsolably or lashing out in rage). Any of these panic responses could be the wrong choice for your unique set of circumstances – causing you to be injured and making your problems a whole lot worse.

Prevention: When panic starts to build, find something (ANYTHING) that can shift your mental focus. Count your breaths, do a small productive task, or say a prayer. Do something to control your fear before it morphs into full-fledged panic.

Trusting The Weather Prediction

Once you’re out in the back-country, it’s up to you to make intelligent predictions about the upcoming weather. The official prediction may suggest a magical stretch of weather – not too hot or too cold, just right with low humidity and clear skies. However, experienced outdoors people know better. Mountains can make their own weather systems, and these can take an unexpected turn at the drop of a hat. Fog can ruin your visibility and hide trail markers. Rain and wind can soak your “sunny day” wardrobe and steer you toward hypothermia with alarming speed.

Keep your own watch on the weather, by scanning the horizon often and paying attention to wind and cloud patterns. This can give you early warning if there’s a change in the weather or an unexpected storm is approaching.

Ignoring Your Instincts

Ever had that feeling you just couldn’t shake? You thought you were being watched or you just weren’t comfortable. You knew something was wrong, but couldn’t explain what was wrong or how you knew it. We don’t use them very much in modern life, but human beings do have a few instincts inherited from the ancestors. Compared to animals with instincts for navigation or anticipating the weather, our assorted instincts aren’t that sharp. We still can, however, sense things out of the ordinary from time to time. It may simply be your subconscious picking up on clues that your conscious mind has ignored – or it may be true instinct, pure and simple. This much is certain, that little voice in your head is there for a reason.

Underestimating The Risks

There are risks involved in enjoying the great outdoors. Every year, a handful of people run into real trouble in the wilderness – often because they didn’t understand the risks they were truly facing. Before you head into the back-country, do your research to discover all the hazards you may encounter. Are there bears? If so, what species? How unpredictable is the weather? Are there rock slides or venomous animals? Choosing to do your homework doesn’t seem like a life or death decision, but it certainly can be.

[thetavolution]

OC SMASH OR PASS

Tagged by: I was tagged once and then ran amuck

Tagging: Any of you who want to do it!

Rules: Include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. The “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idk).

Viktor

QUICK FACTS

Height: 5’11"

Age: 38

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Pansexual

PROS

He's protective. He takes care of people, even if he's just met them. He protects the weak. He's an incredible ally on the battlefield.

He'd be open to polyamory, but he'd be much more into kitchen table polyamory.

He loves getting tied up and will tie up his partner if they enjoy it.

Biting is on the table.

Viktor is incredibly loving. So much of his pain is tied to how much he loves people, especially those closest to him. He puts his whole heart into every relationship, romantic or platonic.

He's good at relationship maintenance. Unless someone really fucked him over, he does everything to keep in touch and show people he cares.

He's generous with everything he owns and with his time. Even if he has things to do, he'll stop to help you. (I.E. Stopping to help every Tom, Dick, and Harry while trying to get this tadpole out.)

He's got cake.

CONS

He's a brooding cowboy of a paladin. If you're into that, great! If not, uh oh.

Vengeance is his thing. This can be alienating to people who are more about forgiveness. He goes on revenge missions as an oath of vengeance paladin.

He doesn't have a place to call home. He's never settled down in one spot.

While he isn't an addict, he does turn to drugs and alcohol to numb his feelings more than he should.

He wouldn't get along with people who are evil or hurt the innocent. He can navigate people who are more morally gray though.

He's lost a lot of people and he has a fear of losing anyone else. It can negatively impact how he moves forward in relationships. He's also overprotective because of it.

A lot of his actions are dictated by his survivor's guilt. He doesn't prioritize his own safety because he thinks he should have died years ago.

He really needs a therapist, but who on Toril doesn't? (Do I need to make a therapist character? Does anybody want that?)

DETAILS

The man runs on coffee and little else most days. The easiest way to get him to actually eat something is to make his favorite foods: Buffaloaf with Honeyed Corn, Roasted Cod with Mashed Potatoes, and Faerie Cake.

He loves falconry and wood carving.

Viktor has a favorite falcon that he cares for that he named Mike. He's never explained why he named her Mike.

His original party was murdered by trolls, including his former lover. It's where his survivor's guilt comes from.

He was inspired by westerns like Johnny Guitar, McCabe & Mrs. Miller, and The Wild Bunch.

When it comes to drinking, he prefers dark beers or red wines.

His drug usage isn't overly wild. He mostly sticks to micro-dosing on mushrooms if he's not drinking.

He doesn't talk a lot, but he listens.