#and the thing is my first three died (they had a BABY on the trek and it. it DIED. it died.)

[demobatman]

writing an entire novel to leave in the middle of mine and my friends minecraft realm because my fucking dogs died (edit: my Minecraft dogs. not real dogs. i realize this sounds like it could have been real dogs. oh man)

[tmntkiseki]

Big Brawl rewatch, let's goooooo

Part 1

"But we need not fear the past. It is the future we must fear." Gotta love it whenever Splinter is narrating the cold opening.

I feel like Splinter should know at this point in the series that if he tells his sons not to do something, they are going to do it anyway.

Also, I keep forgetting that the Battle Nexus takes place every three years, not four. (Why do I keep thinking it's four?)

"Nice going, Donny. You got any chalk in your magic bag of tricks?" Honestly, it would be hilarious if one of the only things Donny doesn't have in his duffel bag is something practical, like a pen or a pack of tissues.

All of the turtles staring at Michelangelo when he reveals he knows what a nexus. The reason being because he, like Donatello, watches Star Trek. Pfffffft

ATTACK OF THE TOOTHPICKS

Once again, I love it whenever the animation suddenly becomes a lot smoother and more detailed during action/fight scenes like this

I'm not surprised that Leo is so upset over his swords being broken during this quick fight. (I mean they're the same swords he forged with Raph back in "The Monster Hunter.")

There is something I really love about the Gyoji as a character and I do not know what it is. His voice? How calm, composed, chill, and reasonable he is? The fact he literally dies at the end of the arc and yet he's brought back during "Grudge Match" as if nothing happened?

The Gyoji is actually god

Turtles see Splinter being attacked by someone unfamiliar; first instinct is to try and help him. These boys love their dad <3

Raphael instantly admitting he was the one who talked Leonardo into following Splinter when Splinter starts scolding Leo... If I had to pick one thing I love about his character, it is the fact he does take responsibility for his actions.

Tell me again why the Djinn was never brought back after this arc? He seems like a nice guy and I wanna see what his dimension looks like.

I'd say of the Big Brawl Episodes, Part 1 is probably my least favorite? But it's entirely circumstantial seeing as this is basically the exposition episode explaining the Battle Nexus and Splinter's history with the competition.

The first appearance of Usagi... Even as a pre-teen, he is powerful. Though why was he at the Battle Nexus three years ago? Was Katsuichi competing maybe? Gimme the lion sensei, damn it.

Drako is such a piss baby loser jesus

I adore this moment where Splinter agrees to let Leo, Raph, Don, and Mikey compete. He's been very overprotective of his boys for the longest time, but he's starting to realize that they are growing up and becoming more independent.

I still firmly believe that had the Fast Forward reboot never happened, TMNT 2003 would have been the first animated iteration to kill off Splinter. Just saying.

I never realized how much of a giant the Ultimate Ninja is compared to the turtles, holy shit

I recall seeing a theory somewhere that the reason Leonardo didn't get a mystic weapon in Season 5 is because of his katanas getting reforged in the Battle Nexus, where the swordsmith likely used magic to get the job done quickly? I dig it.

TRAXIMUS

Forever kills me how even though the turtles never got a chance to meet Hamato Yoshi, they still revere him as an ancestral figure (especially Leo, since this episode ends with him praying in front of his statue.)

Also you're about to be assassinated, Leo. Leo. LEO.

[morns-fevered-dream]

Well I've tried to avoid spoilers but their are a few things I know going in the appearance of a character from ENT I'd originally guessed Trip Tucker because he died in a weird way and in non-cannon he did things after his "death" but a sci fi news article discussing Daniels gives me a feeling it's him makes more sense though and I saw two images one of a old Burnham and one of Burnham and Moll standing in front of some light on a cliff or something due to a current boycott of Paramount and Paramount+ I'm watching this from a pirate cove and I'd encourage you to do the same and without further ado live blogging of Star Trek Discovery and as always 🌟SPOILERS🌟

Season 5 Episode 10

I'm still sad this is the last episode of DIS

Well I'm glad it's longer then a regular episode but part of me was hoping for a 2 hour finale but considering it wasn't known until after shooting that it was the last episode and then reshoots that I'm sure are the extra length of this episode

I wonder if we'll see the Breen that went in before Moll and Burnham?

Huh Burnham had the same thought

Nooo Burnham

Oh there's one of three Breen cracked like an egg

And their is the other Breen not a happy one either maybe if the Breen had sent scientists instead of Soldiers they'd be more willing to work together Burnham

Damn that was a football tackle

About to be pulled away by a hurricane and still trying to punch damn Burnham is right "STOP IT"

Lots of slow mo

Damn the Breen is back

Why is Moll flying with a gun?

Why did Moll shoot the Breen? I mean the Breen is under her command

No wonder the Breen was so mad their own boss killed the other Breen like a cracked egg I'd be pissed too

Damn Moll is not likable even for a villain

Yeah that's what I thought

Now thinking about it I definitely thought that Detmer and Owosekun would be back by now tbh

Yeah Nhan stepping up suck it admiral

"At least the Breen have a vested interest" didn't you just kill your own Breen soldiers?!

Return of the spinning camera and a surprise appearance of shaky camera

Since it's the last episode I want to say I think DIS has my favorite Engineer crew out of all the Trek shows between Stamets, Adira, Reno and the occasional Booker, Tilly or Culber it has my favorite dynamic

There's one of the images that was spoiled them standing in front of whatever that ripple thing is

Oh they aren't fighting Tahal yet? Then what Breen Is Discovery fighting oh is it the Ruhn Breen Dreadnought or whoever runs it now Moll or that Asrisar Breen

"Ambassador Saru are you insane?" Is hilarious

Just like her Breen colleagues don't turn your back on Moll

Moll isn't very smart Burnham told you the clue and you didn't even use it

What was that scream Moll that was some serious yelling in lower case

Yes trust the good doctor odd visions or whatever

Damn Seru that was cold as ice

I swear Burnham is like the perfect Federation Captain because I would have been pissed

I kind of like that the most powerful tech in the universe is represented with some simple glass triangles

Ancient humanoid appearance!

Something before the progenitors? Mmmh interesting I know Q and the Guardian Of Forever were before the ancient humanoids I'm pretty sure but not much else is known

I love that it's Booker that's with Hugh others would try to explain or theorize but Booker is just like "damn that's crazy" the same nonchalant attitude when Hugn decided to join in the shuttle in the first place

Wow that's a lot of camera spinning

Separate the what?

Damn the ancient humanoids really trying to put this technology off on someone else

A TNG Enterprise D style saucer separation WOOOOOOOOOOO BABY

Is that the Breem Scout ship it looks nice

Ain't no way they just spun that colossal giant Dreadnought like a bayblade that was totally cool

Damn the Progenitor really gave Burnham a crash course on almost all of existence huh?

Honestly I've been thinking all season that kind of technology needs to go permanently

I'm sad Stamets won't get his legacy dream the spore drive program was canceled and made secret, spore drive didn't replace the regular warp drive in the 32nd century and now unable to study the progenitors tech what I'm really sad about is that this arc for Stamets won't be resolved because this is the finale

Picard Wine, Geordi old visor and a baseball presumably something to do with Sisko interesting

Kovich was Daniels all along?! This isn't what I thought the returning ENT thing was gonna be I'll be honest I was actually surprised

Yes! The Saru x T'Rina wedding what everyone was hoping for

Talaxian pirates? Mmmmh

All of the dress uniforms and fancy wedding clothes look great

Old Burnham and old Booker look like themselves but with gray hair I look forward to seeing irl old compared to TV old like they did for TOS, TNG and DS9 episodes where it showed a older version of a character and then people put up a image of them later irl when the actor was actually older

Burnham 33nd century civilian clothes look like she ready for the wild west I guess some fashion just comes around huh

Admiral you say

Oh that's a alien deer cool

Ooooo another uniform

They got kid in Starfleet already wow future jumps do that though

I like these even further in the future 33nd century uniforms that admiral one is nice I like the line going down the pants but I also liked that on the PIC S3 uniform too so I guess I'm just a sucker for that uniform design choice

I also like the new 33nd century Starfleet logo

For future versions of the Starfleet logo post ST Nemesis I think this new one and the Future Imperfect TNG one from the fake future are probably my favorites

Damn how many refits has that ship undergone to be still be in service

For a minute I thought she was about to pass down Discovery to her son

So a short explanation of Calypso but I still don't understand why Zora had to wait for Craft or the importance of Craft tbh and poor Zora has to wait 1000 years alone is so strange I also assume it was a life or death thing with the crew abandoned ship rather then this whole red directive thing its just kind of odd

Ah Detmer and Owosekun finally returned for the last few minutes of the finale

Ah a impressive fleet shot I do love the Merian Class, Kirk Class, Courage Class of my personal favorite out of the 32-33nd century ships the Eisenberg Class

So that's it the end of Discovery it had its hurdles but it also started Nu-Trek I personally am indeed a fan of the show this and Lower Decks are definitely my favorite of the Nu-Trek shows I am sad to see it go

It started my tradition of watching Nu-Trek and drinking canned Guayaki Yerba Mate late at night and it started many fond memories I've never said this online before but I never watched the last episode of ENT until the pilot of DIS came out I waited years to watch it but I couldn't bring myself to "finish" Star Trek until a new show was announced so I waited years to watch that last episode of ENT and after years of waiting and it was terrible but luckily this finale was better then that

[ybcpatrick]

i want to tell you about my nana.

her first name was mary, but she never ever went by it, that was just a catholic thing her mum did. she went by one of her middle names, nadine.

she was born on prince edward island on december 1st, 1949, the last of seven children. she moved to ontario in 1969, met my grandfather, got married on june 26th, 1971, then had their first child, my dad, a year to the very day. she had my aunt three years later. she loved them more than anything else on earth, and did everything in her power to make sure they were happy, safe, and cared for, even into their adult years. that extended to her grandchildren tenfold, and she adored being nana. to this day, she was the owner of the biggest heart i have ever encountered.

she always had carnations on the dining room table, and planted sunflowers along the fence that grew taller than her every single year. she went to clown college. she worked in the women's section at giant tiger. she was absurdly good at golf, and drew smiley faces on all of her balls so she knew they were hers from far away. she went to church every sunday her whole life. she took her coffee black, and i still have all of her mugs. she loved star trek: the next generation (data was her favourite), charlie chaplin, red skelton, the littlest hobo, touched by an angel, and m*a*s*h. she drove a blue oldsmobile with a wooden dolphin necklace hanging from the rearview mirror. her halloween costumes were always expertly crafted. her mother-son dance with my dad at my parents' wedding was to coat of many colours by dolly parton. she hung pictures of wolves and foxes around her house. she rocked a turtleneck with golden jewelry on the daily. all of her left shoes had a sole riser on them, because one leg was shorter than the other. she made sure she always kept nesquik syrup and double-crème cookies in her cupboards. she loved crafts, especially collages, and painting on woodwork that papa had started. the coffee and side-tables in her living room looked like gigantic books, and i can still smell the inside of the coffee table drawer where she kept my art supplies. her christmas village took up a solid third of the living room every year, glittering like magic.

she was strong-willed. she was driven. she was creative. she was faithful. she was compassionate. she was patient. she was the type to hear a baby babble and respond in kind, taking the nonsense sounds and treating them like they were articulate and valuable. to her, they were. everything a child said or did was the most important thing she'd heard all day, and she made sure that child knew it. everything i ever said to her was met with an unbelievable understanding and encouragement that i haven't experienced since.

she called me, and only me, pumpkin. she let me bring pooh bear with us everywhere, and even got him a high chair that hooked to the edge of the table so he could eat meals with us. she could sharpen my pencil crayons with her pinky nail. she kept everything i ever drew, and is the reason why i still do. she never made me feel silly, or embarrassed, or like i was too young or foolish to understand something. she never made me feel weird, because she was weird, too. she made sure we knew, while we had her and long after we didn't, that she loved us more than words. the eleven years i got to have her were like warm sunlight through the trees. she was comfort and quiet understanding wrapped up in a single person. she was my everything. she still is.

she died on tuesday, july 24th, 2012 around 4am. she was sixty-two years old. it was lung cancer, the kind that non-smokers and children get (and ironically, she had smoked at one point, but managed to kick the habit a few years before i was born). a year after she passed, her ashes were scattered over her brother's oyster bay on the island. my way by frank sinatra was the last song on the playlist for her celebration of life, and because of that, i can't listen to it more than once a year. but i can't deny that it was the perfect song choice for her. she was unyielding in her pursuit of her own happiness, and she was gonna take everyone she loved up with her, like it or not. she never compromised who she was. my nana was unapologetically herself, right to the end. and where she stopped, i decided i had to carry it on myself.

if you're still reading this, i'm glad to have gotten to share her memory with you. it's been twelve years since she had to go, and i was only eleven at the time; i will have to grieve her for longer than i ever knew her. but she's still alive every time i think of her, or i tell someone about her. and now i've told you about her.

thank you for letting her live again with you, even for just a moment or two. nana would've loved you, too.

[twistednuns]

July 2023

Four days in the Manú Rainforest. This trip really didn't start out ideal when my phone fell out of my bag, straight into the river. The crazy thing though: when we went river tubing, Ángel checked the spot again and found it! It had been in the river for two days and it still showed signs of life. Incredible. What I learned: I need to stop looking for distractions, trying to use other people to manage my emotions, and seeing my life trough a camera lens. // More good stuff: Ron teaching me Sanskrit in the van. / All the amazing plants and wildlife we saw on our daily (and nightly) jungle treks. A sloth mama with her baby. All kinds of monkeys and birds (red and green macaws, oropendulas, blue-headed parrots, even a small toucan). Ants in all colours and sizes. An agouti and a bush rat. Big spiders, a small snake and the tiniest frogs. A cayman. Ancient parasite trees, Palo Santo, erotic roots, exotic flowers. / Ángel's telescope and binoculars. / My room with a 360° view. / Regular visits from a tame peccary lady. She enjoyed scratchies behind her ears like a dog and rubbed against our legs. / That full moon night at the lake, a background of jungle noises: howling, croaking, squeaking. Magical. / Chef Jeff's delicious food. / The crazy little kitten at the lodge. / I got along very well with Agathe and Teva. They're going to send me their photos from the trip! / Lessons on hyperindependence: "You know, when I offer you help you should really take it." / Enjoying the boat ride and the view over the rainforest with low-hanging clouds. / Reading a whole book in one go on the way back.

Laura class about the foundations of Human Design. I even booked a reading with her.

Raw vegan cheesecake at Café Kula. I've tried three different ones so far!

Meeting Winni, one of the owners of SolSeed. Such an inspiration. I would love to create a space like that.

Joining a laughing circle one evening. It was an absolutely ridiculous experience. Imitation, accents, animal noises, laughing at tough life events, declaring thumb wars, pure comedy. So glad I took a hit of that spliff before the event.

Another breathwork session with my girl Ari back in Pisac. Going to higher spheres during the retentions. I didn't draw the Past Lives card again but Breakthrough and Ripeness. Afterwards we talked for a long time. About our plans and experiences, Human Design, plant medicine, this and that. I can't wait to meet her again some day.

A Human Design reading with Laura.

Painting intuitively with watercolors and charcoal. Drawing tarot cards, weaving their meaning into the painting. Explaining the ideas to the others in a sharing circle. It felt so nice to just sit down and paint, have access to art supplies on the road.

My second experiment with plant medicine at Ayasana Wasi. It was a very intimate ceremony with Magnus and Lynn from the Netherlands and our hosts Pia and Luca. I felt a lot of sympathy and gratitude for everyone. Luca's sound bath was incredible and Pia basically brought me back to reality. After the ceremony, all four cats explored the maloca and Kali (my favourite) enjoyed cuddles and conversation. My experience is quite hard to integrate because I was shown pure bliss and it felt like I'd died and come back to my human form. What is even real anymore?

Another otherworldly massage with Raphael. Dhruva had already done an amazing job the week before but Raphael really put a lot of time and love into it. I felt cared for and caressed like a cat at some point.

Vida Vegan saved me on a nasty travel day by holding on to my backpacks for a few hours! It was lovely to meet Eric and Jacqueline for the last time and eat some delicious tomato soup. Their food always looks like straight out of a Michelin star restaurant. And I tried llullucha for the first time. Enya's Sail Away on the radio. Green apple soap.

Actually being able to sleep on the night bus after a grumpy evening. Arriving in Puno (still sleeping so the driver had to wake me up), the hotel allowed me to check in at 6am. Grateful.

A boat ride to Uros, the floating islands of Lake Titicaca. Meeting two cats / taking the cat boat.

Buying strawberries, blueberries, a clementine and a lúcuma at the market. An afternoon nap, dreaming of being in the Andes.

Looking at old photos. Realising how much beauty, love and abundance there is in my life. I can't wait to go home. Anticipation.

Frank Zappa's genius.

I treated myself to another Clear Minds Meditation Club hoodie and a longsleeve from Rip'n'Dip.

Taking an early bus to Copacabana. Biting into sour tutti frutti gummy tubes - the taste reminded me of BumBum ice cream. Finally feelt like updating Instagram. Instant feedback from my friends. Sitting on the right side: The view was gorgeous. Hills, wide open fields and Lake Titicaca in the background. So many animals. Mainly sheep, alpacas and cows, but I also saw a kitty and a pig family with lots of little piglets!

I fell down on my way to the hotel upon arriving in Bolivia and hurt my knees. But I moved into my gorgeous little bungalow (stained glass windows, domed ceiling, view over the lake), lit a fire, made cinnamon tea and a hot water bottle. Ate snacks in bed/ordered food and had a video call with Do. She even shared her Netflix password with me and prescribed watching Gilmore Girls. Slow travel. I might stay another night.

The view from the waterfront. Isla de la Luna against a snow-covered mountain pass. Little ducks with pastel blue beaks. The soothing sound of the water.

Stumbling upon a cute souvenir for Do. Treating myself to two pairs of earrings and a necklace. Helping the lady in the shop change the chain, having a lovely little conversation. Learning about ametrine/bolivianite, a mixture of amethyst and citrine. Two of my favourite crystals. Now I really want to get one. A cute souvenir for myself.

Egg and cheese sandwiches. Ordering too much passion fruit juice. Getting it to go in an empty water bottle. A cherry popsicle with gelatin.

A bright and inspired morning before leaving for La Paz. A shower (hot water!), snuggling up in bed, discovering a career coach I really resonate with. Feeling light, positive, happy. Grateful, aligned, realizing that I have all that I need and more. That I need to work on shifting my focus away from the perceived scarcity and see the abundance there is in my life.

The photo Do sent me of the knot she'd finally made into a cherry stem. Mit dir ist gut Kirschenessen.

On the bus to La Paz. Super pretty views. Even seeing nandus. Listening to a gratitude mantra (Jhené Aiko - 'alive & well'). Going on a deep dive into Human Design unconscious charts. I created a birth chart for my design date and according to that my unconsciousness presents as an Aquarius (with quite a bit of Aries mixed in). I resonate so much with that!

David Bowie - Modern Love

My room in La Paz had heating and two big windows overlooking this crazy city and the mountains. I could lie right by the window and bask in the morning sun. And they had real baguette at breakfast, not only that empty, airy bread they usually serve in South America.

Walking through the streets with Rem. Eating my first tumbo at the mercado. Learning about the famous prison at Plaza Sucre where you have to pay rent but can bring your whole family. Bolivian superstition and turbulent politics. Dehydrated potatoes. We walked into a church and they had the same painting of Bisexual Jesus as that store in Belize. And the Virgen de los Remedios wore a blue and magenta dress with silver glitter stars. Catholicism really hits different in the Americas.

Accidentally ending up in a vegan restaurant with a fancy tasting menu. They served me five courses for only 100 bolivianos. I would have never expected this! And right after lunch, I went to the art museum and I was such an amazing experience! Usually I'm a bit disappointed when it comes to art museums around here but this one was top notch. Inspired.

I had fun watching a Cholita wrestling show from the balcony. The smell of sweaty plastic clothing reminded me of children's carnival parties. Now that I think of it, that was a very smell-focused day in general. Chewing gum on the bus reminding me of my teenage years, going out at night. A whiff of someone's cooking strongly reminding me of my grandma's kitchen.

Browsing the stores at the Witches' Market. They had all kinds of amulets, spells, powders and potions, herbs and incense. My backpack is full of obscure objects now. I wonder if they'll let me through customs.

I treated myself to a beautiful ametrine and a piece of an agate geode.

Only ordering food that doesn't exist on the menu in an Indian restaurant. A delicious choice. The owner called me princesa and I kinda liked it.

Warm Bounty porridge: coconut milk, dark chocolate, too much sugar.

Spending my last day in La Paz riding the teleférico up to El Alto. Amazing view of the mountains and the cemetery. Trying to find one of the famous Cholets I ran into a big parade for La Paz Day! I saw a store for Cholita skirts, browsed cheap cosmetics stores and enjoyed a bottle of cold sparkling water (I'd been searching for that for hours).

Ice-cream testing: the winner is clearly the sour fruit popsicle. Second place: a scoop of creamy cherimoya at the train station. Loser: Canela shaved ice. Tasted like the coating of Big Red chewing gum with a ton of sugar. Inedible.

I LOVED our tour through the Uyuni salt desert. It must have been one of the most fascinating and diverse places I've ever seen: crunchy white infinity / fun photos: "I'm a snack!" and asanas on an elephant trunk / finding the Bavarian flag at the salt hostel and a big Rallye Dakar sign / my lovely company - Bismarck, Leo and the girl gang: Hannah, Satoko, Tas and Verity / all the animals I saw: foxes, vicuñas, viscachas, flamingos - even a cat at Cactus Island / red wine and snacks at sunset / laughing so much together, comparing MILFs and cougars, listening to Babymetal on the road / the breathtaking vistas of the desert valleys, huge rocks, marvellous lagoons, volcanoes / a lava field that looked like the surface of Mars / bulbous green coral (?) formations / Burning Man vibes at the train cemetery, the Road to Nowhere (well, actually train tracks to Chile) / geysers and a hot spring that saved my toes from freezing off //

Stargazing in the Atacama desert. I've never had such a clear view of the Milky Way before. And for the first time, I saw Saturn through the telescope - the rings were clearly visible! There were tons of shooting stars coming down. Magical.

A cute little tienda with handicrafts made by local female artists. A lovely denim jacket and a very fluffy and adorable dog. Big boi. I cuddled and played with so many dogs in San Pedro. Highly unusual for me. Pretty ceramics and jewellery stores. Inspiration everywhere.

Witnessing an encounter of two cowboys on their horses on a street corner.

Touching a big meteorite a the Museo del Meteorito. Making a wish.

The thinnest possible crescent moon with a circular Earth shadow.

Going on a bike tour to Garganta del Diablo with Hannah. We even had to cross a river so we took off our boots and pushed the biked through the water. Quite an adventure. The walk through the canyon was longer than expected and in the end a steep mountain waited for me. I'm kinda proud of myself for turning around halfway, taking into account my bad knees and difficulties climbing down. Riding back during Golden Hour was lovely - the harsh shadows of the rock formations along the river and the desert trees made the landscape look like an African savanna in a way. We rewarded ourselves with a big batch of ice-cream.

Visiting my 40th country - Chile. Getting out of the Bolivian border scam with a firm no. Entering a different world. It's fascinating how a virtual line on a map can create such opposite realities. Chile is such a rich, western country and a striking contrast to Bolivia in many ways.

Listening to my emotions. Booking a flight home. I feel so much better already. I let all my friends know that I'm coming home and we're making plans for the summer. I need to soak up some love and sunshine. It was tough beating the fear of missing out on an opportunity to see the Galapagos islands or go diving in the Caribbean. But I'll see it as something to look forward to - now I wouldn't really be able to enjoy it anyway.

Many cats on my street in Santiago. A cat cafe just around the corner! They even offer yoga classes. My very cosy bed. Hard to leave. Entering a big Chilean supermarket. Feels like home already.

Discovering waacking, a dance style with dramatic arm movements.

Retail therapy. I bought so many pretty little things in Santiago and I love them all! Especially the lipgloss from the kids department with a glitter star snow globe on top.

The taxi driver with two Freddy Mercury figurines on his dashboard who played Living on my Own for me on the way to the airport.

Jodie Foster's space travel experience in Contact made me cry.

Being back. Hanging out with Manu, goofing around. Cuddling, making food for each other, getting way too comfortable around each other. It's so nice not to be alone for a change.

A lemon ice cream flavoured smoothie. Butterbreze and Yogurette (lemon buttermilk!).

Survival of the Thickest - what a stylish, empowering show. FUN.

An amazingly empathetic Thai massage from Ploy. I'll be back.

An ice cream walk with Raphael. Meeting Do for the first time in months. It was really good to see her!

I ordered the "kiddie party" ice cream and wasn't disappointed: two lollipops, gummy candy and rainbow sprinkles.

Being able to move back to my apartment earlier than planned. Doris helped me so much with the move! We had breakfast together at IKEA and ice-cream in LA. She defended me against my brother. Talked some sense into me. I'm very grateful! After I returned the car, Manu ordered my favourite pizza for me and let me sleep on his sofa one more time so I wouldn't have to go back to my absolutely chaotic flat.

Café Mozart, fancy drinks and the Barbie movie with the Friendzone.

[lovecanbesostrange]

On a pure emotional level that Star Trek Picard ending was absolutely fulfilling to me. Once again highlighting to me how as much as I want a good story, I can forgive horsecrap as long as the emotions are true. Character beats sucking me in.

I don’t particularly enjoy either Discovery or Picard. Which is mostly due to the terrible decision of telling season long story arc. Simply not my kind of Trek. It makes one of the things I enjoy most nearly impossible - watching a random ep for fun. With Picard I think this finale (Vox & The Last Generation) work as a sorta movie, so that’s nice. Although of course the problem with S3 is that ep 1-8 tell one story with a great villain, and then the rug is pulled and oops we get the movie that goes down a different path. What a waste of the Dominion... ugh... And it’s so obvious how many storybeats happen just to have an excuse to get all the characters into specific places...

Honestly though, nevermind, who cares, the EMOTIONS! Shaw dying was somewhat of a given, like a 70-30 thing. To give him a quick bowtie to his character arc. Shelby’s death was stupid and unnecessary. Ro... hmmm... we all know Michelle Forbes would not have wanted to return for longer, her death at least brought closure and was the most interesting legacy sacrifice for sure. If they had killed off any of the seven TNG people though... look, I was invested when they said goodbye on that bridge. They played every beat of “this is the last time all of us are in a room together”. Somehow weirdly I especially feared for Will’s life most. Funny, because the Imzadi connection is what saved them. HA! Thank you, Deanna Troi, from the bottom of my heart. For a moment I was baffled how everybody had a thing to do and she was mostly sitting there and yeah, she gets to find the boys to bring them home safe and sound. I’ll take that! (And holy fucking shitballs, Beverly shooting the weapons... what did this woman do the past 20 years?????)

I did watch Best of Both Worlds last week waiting for the finale and it’s still interesting how we only get the aftermath of Wolf 359. How Locutus is only there for such a short time and how deeply this trauma haunts Picard. (So much the Borg were part of all three seasons...)

I needed a happy ending on this so bad and I got it. Although I find it offensive they didn’t even acknowledge how many people died. HALLO??????? Also nice to get it out of the system via beaming and all, but we have so many young officers with this deep rooted assimilation trauma now. WOW! (Looooooooooooved that hug between Seven and Sidney, Seven gets it.)

I am so ready for the supposed Star Trek: Legacy show, I already adore the crew of the...... Enterpise G.............. the Titan was a mighty ship, but guess the rebranding is a very high honor. And we do need that show to find out what Seven’s catchphrase is gonna be. :3 :3 :3 Baby’s first captain’s speech was so great, Janeway would be proud. (Janeway, for all those namedrops I expected to see her face for at least five seconds. But hey, Tuvok is alive!!)

For me the use of humor was great. A few quips to ease the tension. Thank you. Worf’s “I was worried we might actually survive”, Deanna’s “why am I sensing enjoyment” etc etc. That’s what makes the heartwarming moments better as well, like Worf totally blowing Rafi’s cover (ending her spy career forever) and thus helping her reunite with her family. I need the whole range of human emotions. (Also clearly Data needs a new cat.)

The story... overall......... there is a lot to criticize. But this season was the TNG reunion first and foremost (also setting up a new crew, finally finding a better rhythm). And this hour delivered as that. I believe in the friendship of these people, even when some were gone for 20 years and the contact between others was sporadic at best. Let them drink and play poker.

[phoenixyfriend]

Rex and Anakin Raise a Family: Part Four

Part One, Part Two, Part Three – Chrono

Warnings: grief, resentment, lactation, animal death

----

For all that Anakin had said he could handle the twins, Rex still takes one in the sling as they go into town. They don't have a hoverpram yet, and neither of them could figure out a way to fold the fabric to securely hold the babies' heads up. Anakin takes Luke, and Rex takes Leia, and they ignore the whispers that still follow them.

The General keeps just behind his shoulder when they get to the hardware shop that carries the closest paint they can find in such a small town. It's not meant for armor, really, but speeder paint will do the trick for now. Rex's hands shake as he picks out the shades he needs, and the young Rodian at the register almost asks about it.

The issue isn't pressed.

They make their way back to the cottage, and Leia starts fussing fifteen minutes past the town's edge. Anakin looks like he wants to offer to take her back, but Rex is fine. He can comfort her. He can--

Anakin takes the paint, floating it along in the air before them, freeing Rex's hands to focus on the infant strapped to his chest.

"I'll feed her as soon as we get back," Anakin says, low and calm. "She's a little hungry."

Pacifier, then. They're only a few minutes out, by now. She can wait for them to get back to where exchanging the twins won't involve juggling.

Rex feels eyes on him, looks up and sees the soft, quiet smile on his General's face, and ducks his head back to Leia.

She glares up at him as well as a newborn can, sucking angrily on the paci in her mouth. Rex has no idea if she's actually upset or if her face just naturally follows such an expression, but it's adorable nonetheless. He hums to her, nonsense without words.

He's never learned lullabies; they picked up drinking songs in the field and from local soldiers, from their Jedi, war songs from their trainers, pop songs from the radio. A few learned lullabies, those who loved children and wanted their own, one day, brothers like Waxer who would have adopted Numa in a heartbeat if it had been an option.

He wants to learn lullabies. He wants to be able to sing children's songs to these tiny, helpless lives he holds in his hands, day in and day out. He wants to learn Mandalorian songs, real ones, not just battle chants and mourning melodies. He wants to be able to raise them with the childhood he didn't have.

"Rex? Door's open."

He looks up, and Anakin's standing on the porch, pulling the keys from the lock and gesturing in with his head. Rex hadn't even realized he'd stopped walking, subconsciously waiting for the blockage of the door to be handled. It's easier to focus on the children.

The paint gets sent to the backyard--trapped fumes wouldn’t be good for the children--and Rex lays Leia down in her crib. Anakin urges him to the backyard, says I’ll handle it about anything Rex uses to delay, and it’s only a few minutes later that Rex finds himself sitting on the grass, armor spread across a sheet of disposable flimsi, paints and brushes at the ready. He doesn’t quite remember setting it up, but he must have.

Anakin joins him, a twin in each arm and the Force laying out a picnic blanket. Leia’s nursing, swaddled up but content to suckle, and Luke seems happy to doze when Anakin sets him down on the cotton gingham. It’s a warm day, with a light breeze, and the babies are where the wind won’t carry the paint fumes.

“I’m here if you need me,” Anakin promises, though his attention drifts immediately to his daughter.

Rex begins to paint.

----

His remembrances are endless.

Every brother he’s ever known, every general he’s met, every small commander and random civilian, everyone he loved and knew. He lights a pyre, sings under his breath and tries not to break in a way that can’t be patched together. He mourns the tubies and cadets, the Jedi younglings, names he never learned and now never would.

Anakin gets Japor from somewhere, carves it whenever he’s too jittery to sleep and the twins are asleep. Rex recognizes a few symbols, like the open circle fleet, like Fives’ helmet eel, like Ahsoka’s markings. There are more, though, that are wholly unfamiliar, things he thinks are born of desert sands and binary suns, rough and painful and deeper in Anakin’s heart than even the Jedi.

He asks about the one for Fives, when he sees it.

He hides his anger.

Explanations, first.

“It’s an apology,” his General tells him, eyes distant. “I should have listened to him. I didn’t. The carvings are regrets, broken trust... that sort of thing. I’m part of why he died, and in that, part of why the rest is gone. He and his memory deserve a place of honor.”

Rex considers that, and accepts it.

Fives deserves an apology. The General recognizes that.

The General recognizes that he fucked up.

This is a good thing.

Rex lets go of his anger, still curled tight to his chest after months, as best he can.

He’s not very good at it, but he can try.

Luke starts crying, and Rex gets up to warm a bottle.

----

“I need to stay close to home until the twins are a little older,” Rex says. Teskarim, the woman at the childcare store, tilts her head to encourage him to continue. “I’m... I’ve never been anything but a soldier, and nobody here needs security services, but I can hunt. Do you know if there’s any kind of licenses required, or lists of which animals are legal hunt and which are endangered?”

“I... don’t,” she says, chewing her bottom lip. “But I think the butcher’s shop can probably point you in the right direction.”

Damn. He’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone new today.

“Thanks,” he sighs, and shells out some of the local currency for more formula.

----

The butcher has answers, and preferences. Rex isn’t much of a trapper, but he’s a hell of a shot, and decent enough scout and tracker. He listens to what there is to hear, and mentally takes all the notes he can. There aren’t any licenses needed in this hemisphere, but there are legally-defined hunting seasons for different creatures. The butcher knows when the optimal times of day are, which parts of the nearby forest and mountains are best to stake out, and so on.

Rex tells Anakin about his plan. He gets a slow blink in response, a cringe in what he thinks is guilt, and an offer to meditate for the best direction to take when he goes out. He accepts the offer in the spirit its meant, and sets out the next morning with the expectation that he may need to spend a few nights out under the leaves and stars.

The calm and quiet are their own kind of comfort. He’s loyal to Anakin, and he already loves the twins, but there’s a part of him that needs to be away from natborns right now. Anakin was a Jedi, a general, and fought in the metaphorical trenches with the rest of them, but he wasn’t a brother.

They grieve many of the same people, but they do not grieve the same way.

Rex needs the solitude. Not forever, not even for very long, but he needs it.

It takes two days, but he finds one of the in-season creatures, a creature shaped much like an Alderaan deer, but larger, and with longer fur. It’s darker in color, too, and he gives it a bit of time to wander about until he can be sure it’s a male, and he’s not about to leave some fawns without a mother. The shot is clean, and it doesn’t take him very long to tie it up and sling it over his shoulders to bring back to town.

The trek back takes hours, and the creature on his back is a pain to carry, but it’s almost worth the looks he gets from the civvies. Eyes bulge out the sockets at the sight of him, and he’s glad his helmet hides his smirk. He’s Kamino stock, hardened by over three years on the front lines, and there’s a pride in how easy the physical things are for him. It’s not impossible for a natborn to carry this kind of creature this far without help, but it’s uncommon.

He kind of likes the attention, now that it doesn’t come with the many prejudices that being a clone always had.

Anakin meets him at the butcher’s, one twin on his chest and the other on his back.

Seems he’s found a solution to that.

“Here to help me barter a fair payment?” Rex asks, and gets a too-charming grin in response.

“Well, I’ve been doing it most of my life,” Anakin says, cheery in a way that feels pasted on. “And I’ll have a trick to know if we’re being cheated.”

It’s a solid response, but Rex doesn’t like it. He takes note of the bags under Anakins eyes. “Have you been sleeping, sir?”

“Twins,” the man himself says. “And don’t call me ‘sir,’ Rex, we’ve been over this.”

“You need to sleep, General.”

Anakin pouts at him, probably because of the title. “I can handle two days alone, Captain.”

Rex rolls his eyes and sidles through the entrance of the butcher’s shop.

They’ve got this.

[spencer-reids-adventures]

"I died there, Hotch. I wasn't breathing for three minutes before Tobias brought me back. And I don't he brought back all of me."

"I died there, Hotch. I wasn't breathing for three minutes before Tobias brought me back. And I don't think he brought back all of me."

Spencer's words startle Hotch - they're the first he's spoken since they brought him broken and bleeding out of the cemetery at Marshall Parish.

It's his second night in the hospital, and Hotch has been with him around the clock, refusing to leave his side despite the protests of the rest of the team. He checks his watch and finds that it's nearly 3am.

"Why do you think that?" he asks carefully, even though what he really wants to ask is are you okay and where has your mind been and how can I help you?

Spencer is quiet for a long time. Contemplating, maybe, or just finding the energy for an actual conversation. Hotch hears him shift in the bed and then gasp in pain, but he just waits patiently, hoping Spencer will tell him if there's something he can do.

"The night before we flew to Georgia," Spencer finally says, "I was playing a Star Trek trivia drinking game at the bar with Anderson and Sharp. And it was fun, and I was happy, and I remember thinking, 'I finally did it. I finally became a normal person who does normal things with normal friends.'" He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks again, his voice is watery and unsteady. "I can't fathom ever feeling that kind of joy again. It feels like another lifetime."

"Spencer..."

"And my mom. I've written her a letter every day for years. We've always been close - it was just the two of us for so long. I tell her everything. But I can't tell her about this. She couldn't-- There's just no way. Which means that our relationship is forever changed. There will always be this huge horrible thing that happened to me that she doesn't even know about."

Hotch waits, because it doesn't sound like Spencer is done, and he doesn't want to interrupt again.

"I know you all thought of me as the group's innocent. The youngest, the kid, the baby. Morgan thinks I'm inexperienced with sex, JJ thinks I'm inexperienced with love, Gideon still sees me as a teenager. I keep my private life private, and to be honest, I didn't mind that everyone thought of me that way. That I had that... reputation."

Spencer sighs.

"Except I don't anymore. Everyone's going to look at me differently now, and there's nothing I can do about it. I don't know who I am anymore, who I'm supposed to be. And I don't even get the luxury of mystery or privacy around all of this - you all were witness to what happened to me."

They sit in silence for a moment.

"Spencer, can I come closer to you?" Hotch finally asks.

"Okay."

Hotch pulls his chair closer to the head of Spencer's bed and lays his hand on the mattress.

"May I hold your hand?"

Spencer hesitates, but after a moment, he reaches out and takes Hotch's hand in his own. Hotch squeezes gently.

"There's nothing I can say right now that will make any of this okay," Hotch says. "I can try to reassure you that people heal in time, or try to convince you that you won't always feel this way. But I don't think that's what you want to hear right now. So I'm going to tell you what I think is the most important thing for you to know: I'm here with you, Spencer. You're not alone. No matter what happened, no matter what will happen, you are never alone. You can call me anytime and I will be there. The rest of the team will be there for you, too, whenever you need them. We are your family, and we love you unconditionally."

"You really mean that?" Spencer's voice is so soft, Hotch almost misses it.

"I really do," he promises. "I know you were alone for the last few days. I hate that you were. But I hope you know that we were looking for you the whole time. You gave us the clues to find you, and we came for you, and we will always look for you, Spencer, and we will always come for you."

"Hotch, I need you to do something for me," Spencer says, and his voice sounds strangled and maybe even a little panicked.

"Anything."

"My pants are in a bag on one of those chairs, I think..."

"I see them."

"In the pocket are two vials of Dilaudid. I need you to get rid of them for me. Please."

"Oh, Spencer..."

"Right now, before I jump off this bed and take them back," Spencer says urgently.

Hotch finds them quickly, takes them into the bathroom, and empties them in the sink.

"They're gone," he says, sitting back down next to the bed and taking Spencer's hand again. Hotch can feel that he's shaking.

"I don't want to talk about it right now," Spencer whispers. "I think I'd like to go back to sleep."

"That's fine," Hotch says. "I'll be right here. I won't leave you."

[nightwishesworld]

Life of Death

You’re gonna need tissues for this one folks! A huge thank you to @addictedtodinosaurs for allowing me to write this wonderful headcannon! Hope you guys enjoy!

Warning: Angst. Whole lot of angst 

It hasn’t even been a day since Alcina’s world collapsed. Ethan Winters managed to flee Castle Dimitrescu with his life and topple the hierarchy Mother Miranda worked so hard to achieve. Everyone is gone; Angie, Moreau's house, Mother Miranda, even her baby brother Karl. They never stood a chance after the fall of the great Mother Miranda. Without her protection, they were left helpless. Of course, Ethan only saw them all as monsters; filthy bloodthirsty creatures that needed to be slain. That’s all anyone ever saw them as. They’re different so that must mean they’re wrong. They’re abnormally different from anything I’d ever seen so that automatically means they’re evil.

But they’re still a family. Lucky for Alcina, she never let herself depend on anyone other than herself. Well, except for her daughters.

She was wandering around the ruins of the castle in search of them. They were nowhere to be found since Ethan escaped. It was a grueling task but obviously, one that needed to be done. They need their mother’s tender love and care to nurse them back to health.

Cassandra was the first to be found. Naturally, she was found within the comfort of her basement. Where else would that silly girl be hiding? Just like Daniela, her bleeding seemed to have majorly stopped on its own. So all that was left for Alcina to do was bathe her and bandage her wounds. Alcina carried her upstairs to her bedroom slowly and carefully to not make her feel any sicker to her stomach. From there she bathed her and wrapped whatever wounds she had in delicate cloth before putting her to rest in her bed. Alcina tousled her wet hair before leaving in search of the rest of her brood.

Daniela was the easiest to find. She was left lying face down in the parlor soaked in a pool of her own blood. Her body was riddled with bullet holes to the point where her abdomen resembled Swiss Cheese. Alcina was quick to scoop her up and bring her upstairs to tend to her wounds. Until she got Daniela in the bath she used the ends of her dress to put pressure on her abdomen. Just like Cassandra, her bleeding seemed to have majorly stopped on its own. So all that was left for Alcina to do was bathe her and bandage her wounds.

Picking each individual bullet out of her body was an uphill battle, but Alcina was the eventual victor. Even better, she managed to not disturb her youngest’s slumber as she patched her up. Daniela was now free to rest as much as she needed in the sanctuary of her mother’s bed.

“What a mess we’re left with, hm? Don’t you worry about a thing my little Tasmanian Devil, Mother’s here now. I’ll protect you.”

The girls remained motionless as Alcina tucked Daniela in next to her sister.

Alcina watched as her little bundles of joy rested comfortably under the warm blankets and plush pillows. They look so sweet and at peace. It was rare for the matriarch to see them like this, but it always brought a smile to her face.

“You just rest now, my lovelies. I’m going to go find your sister so she can rest easy as well.” Alcina bends down and kisses each daughter on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

It took a few hours of searching to find her eldest daughter. Doing countless laps around the castle finally brought Alcina to explore the labyrinth of hidden passageways. There were a few times when said passageways brought her right back up to her bedroom. She wasn’t complaining too much though. Every time it happened she simply checked on her girls and reminded them how much she loves them.

Bela was by far the hardest to find. The sounds of scurrying behind a row of bookcases alerted Alcina to her presence. Following a single passageway eventually led Alcina to find the blonde buried from the chest down in rubble. The tunnel had collapsed from then on.

Alcina made quick work of removing the rock and rubble from her daughter's body. Rats fled back into their holes as she did so. The eldest Dimitrescu never moved even an inch. It took a while, but Alcina did manage to get her out in one piece. She whispered promises of a warm bath and offered to deep clean the dirt and dust out of her hair.

Bela couldn’t respond but Alcina knew she heard her. She could still sense her. She could sense all of them. They’re just weak, that’s all. They need as much rest as they can get.

It’s late evening by the time all three girls are bathed and tucked into bed. They were dressed in clean clothes and had their bandages changed again before Alcina crawled carefully into bed with them. She made sure to be extra careful when nudging them out of the way so she was in the middle; Bela on one side and Cassandra and Daniela on the other. Her arms wrapped around them all snugly.

It reminds Alcina of all the times the girls would burst into her room when they were little during a thunderstorm. All four of them would cuddle up just like this under the covers and either sing to them or read them a story.

“Tomorrow is a new day, my loves. We will start anew and we’ll be stronger than ever. I hope you sleep peacefully.”

The next morning comes slowly for Alcina. It’s quiet for once as the girls aren’t awake to cause mischief. Aching in her back and arms keeps her from stretching out. She smiled when she feels the girls are still snuggled up close to her.

“Good morning my darlings,” she says with a yawn. “How are we feeling today?”

Alcina kisses each daughter on the cheek and chooses not to notice how much more pale they were this morning. And certainly doesn’t recognize how stiff they were. She simply chalks it up to sleeping uncomfortably. After all, even she woke up with an aching back. Her arms wrapped around them must have really bothered them.

“It’s alright, girls. Take all the time you need to recover. You’ve been through quite the ordeal and need as much rest as you can get. I understand that. Mommy will be waiting for you right here to wake up. I’ll be the first thing you see when you open your bleary little eyes.”

The family lounged for the better half of the morning. Alcina takes her time stroking the hair of each of her girls’ hair and whispers words of comfort to them. “You’re so brave, my loves. And so strong; stronger than Mommy could ever hope to be.”

She notices a rather putrid smell coming from Daniela. One not caused by uncleanliness or a rotten meal, but something else entirely. Her immediate response is to change her bandages again, but can’t help but notice how pale Daniela had become overnight. Her lips were turning a shade of blue and the rest of her skin looked sickly. So did Cassandra and Daniela. Perhaps this is worse than simply recovering from injuries? Maybe....maybe they really were-

Alcina shook her head. They’ll wake up. Of course, they’ll wake up! They just need to rest extra long before they can really start to recover. So what if they get worse before they get better? At the end of the day, all that matters is that they do wake up. Then it’s smooth sailing from there.

The silence is suffocating. She feels the chill in her blood, coldness bringing the synapses of her brain to a standstill. Part of it is a pain, but one Alcina can endure. One she has to endure; for the sake of her daughters.

While she waited, Alcina called for a maid, the only one left, to fetch some documents from her private study that needed her attention.

They didn’t actually need her attention, of course. With the demise of Mother Miranda, the document's importance was nullified. But Alcina Dimitrescu is not the type of person to just sit around and do nothing. Especially when there are so many important things to do.

As soon as the maid steps into the room she understands what’s happening. She went through something strikingly similar when she had her miscarriage some years ago. Reality is a cruel plane of existence. Especially when you lose someone you loved suffering it with. It’s plain to see that her mistress is grieving her losses and she doesn’t have the heart to break whatever fantasies Lady Dimitrescu has built-in her head.

Instead, she chooses to play along. Delusional or not this was still Lady Dimitrescu, the woman will kill her if she tells her anything other than what she wants to hear. She gives a kind smile and curtsy to her Mistress and simply dies as she’s asked.

“Shall I fetch you some wine, My Lady?”

Alcina thought about it for a moment. It has been over 24 hours since she last fed and she was certainly craving sustenance. But ultimately decides against it in favor of her daughters.

“No. Keep what we have left safe for when my daughters wake. They’ll need their strength more than I’ll need mine.”

The maid waits a minute before trying again. She looks over at the girls still laying in bed. It’s obvious they are no longer there. She could smell the evidence of that from across the room.

“Very well, Lady Dimitrescu. I could send up a platter of-“

“Enough,” Alcina shouts but quickly catches herself from continuing. The girls don’t need to be disturbed by such a trivial matter. “Go make yourself useful and clean my daughters’ rooms. They’ll want them spotless when they wake up.”

The maid simply bows her head. “Of course, my Lady. Please forgive me.”

The next two weeks went on like this before the maid had enough. She wanted to help her mistress, she truly did, but there was nothing left for her here anymore. The last scraps of human food were officially gone and there was no reason to trek down to the village and come all the way back when she could just as easily take up residence down there. It was a gut-wrenching decision but it had to be done. She tried her best for Lady Dimitrescu and that’s all that mattered.

She slipped away in the dead of night. Normally the Lady would have any escapees hunted down and dragged back up to the castle only to be thrown in the basement. But there was no one to do that anymore. Heisenberg and his pack of lycans had perished long ago, even before the Lady’s daughters, and the Lady was too drained of emotions to care. Too weak to chase after her.

Alcina’s daughters are her everything. Every day she lived for them. She lived because of them.

Alcina took great pride in her tall stature. She is the image of beauty and elegance. The only real flaw in her design is its role in hunting down prey. You’d have to be blind or stupid to not see her coming after you. Even with her much larger strides, she wouldn’t be able to keep up. And Alcina Dimitrescu does not run. Prey is not worth running for.

So she depends on her daughters to hunt for her. They’re much more suited for the job; so young, and clever, and agile. They are her cubs and her, their lioness, too old to keep up with the hunting party.

Alcina looks at her girls and sees them as they truly are; dead. Lifeless corpses. Their bodies are decaying and cold. She has been changing the bed sheets every morning to keep away the maggots but failed to stop all of them. The smell of death is noxious even with all the windows open because Bela said she wanted to feel the crisp winter breeze.

“My girls,” Alcina sobs. “What have I done to you?”

She collapses at their bedside and finally allows herself to break down.

But looking up at them she still feels them. She can still feel their arms wrap around her shoulders as she cries. The smell of paint is still on Cassandra’s cloak and Daniela was sitting on the floor right next to her. The short ends of red hair tickled Alcina’s cheek. If they were truly gone, how is it she can still feel Bela kiss the top of her head and wrap her arms around her neck in an embrace?

“I never should have done this. How can I be so selfish? I never should have turned you to suffer as I have.” A new wave of tears blurred her vision. “What kind of mother am I?”

She knows she doesn’t have long now. How can she bring herself to care? Everyone she ever cared about was already gone. What’s the point of trying to survive without her dearest family, especially when she’s so close to being reunited. Alcina wiggles her way back under the covers and pulls her daughters close once more. She’s crying in earnest now, happy that her pain is almost over. Even now she can see her daughters playing together, maybe even with Uncle Karl somewhere in the far off distance.

A smile spreads to Alcina’s lips as she closes her eyes and simply waits for her turn to join in on the fun.

[hollers-and-holmes]

Oh, this one sounds extremely interesting to me. (Says the girl with many stories including ships/shipwrecks)

• the thing about the girl shipwrecked with her kidnapper

Shipwreck stories, yay!

Here’s a little chunk from mine…

At first she spoke to him often, when the hatred was still hot in her belly. He could not answer her anyway. She could see grey tissue through the split in his skull and knew he would not live for much longer. While she still could, she spoke to him, spitting the words.

Why.

My father will kill you. Why have you done this.

We are going to die here. We will die here and they will never find us. Is this what you planned? Is this why you took me away? So I could shrivel up beside you and the crabs could pick our bones clean? The stupid crabs will eat us and we’ll lay here two skeletons and they’ll use our skulls for hideouts and have feuds over who gets the prettier one. That’s mine, dude. Mine will be prettier. Only the loser crabs will live in yours, with that stupid crack in it.

I’m going for water. If you want some go get your own.

Jerk.

I hope you can hear me. I hope you remember how I’m keeping you alive. Open your mouth. You’re like a baby. I have baby cousins that can at least keep their drink off their shirt.

That cut is going to fill with germs and maggots and you’ll get a fever and die. You don’t even know what germs are, do you. Probably still think you fix a plague with leeches. What’s the matter with you.

Days gone and she dragged him out of his own filth into the shallow surf and let it wash him clean while she cursed him and his mother and his ship and his bowels and his dead weight and how she sliced her foot open on some hidden broken shell when she was trying to haul him back up onto the dry sand.

Don’t choke on it, what’s the matter with you, it’s made out of slime. It’s like a big booger and you’re choking on it like it’s full of bones.

Can’t you just die already? I’m tired of waiting for you to die.

I will never see them again. Don’t you understand? I can’t hear them. I don’t know where we are. I’ve never been here, I’ve never been this far away. They won’t know how to find me here. Please, Elbereth, let them find me, or let me die quickly if they can’t. Please don’t make me live here all alone with a criminal’s corpse.

One night as the wind rasped through the grasses all around them she woke from dreams of heaving seas and drowning but not dying and he lay beside her with his eyes laid wide and staring at the stars and her heart stopped for a full breath, and then began to thunder, for he had died beside her while she slept.

She screamed and struck his chest, the panic snatching at her windpipe, and she screamed again and ripped at his hair and yanked his face toward her and shrieked at him to wake up, while the underpinning solitude chanted that mind-shredding dirge all around her.

He coughed. Gagged on his own spittle and gurgled as he often did and his pale eyes rolled and found her where she watched and whimpered unbelieving and while he lay and fixed on her he spoke, a grunting unword bulging out from behind his bloated tongue, the first sound she had heard from him in three weeks.

She went to get him water, though she had made him drink already in the dusk. Again, and never mind the dark trek up the bluff. He was not dead. She was not alone.

Bright Lady, but she did not want to be alone.

-o0o-

He said, days later, listing against the embankment like a drunken man, his muscles shrunk and atrophied but his pale eyes sharp and clear, “Why.”

She watched an ant for a while climb a sharp-edged grass stalk and paw at the air when there was no more grass to climb, its antennae twitching wildly.

“Why what,” she said at last, not looking at him.

“You could have let me drown. I would have, if I had been you.”

“You’re not me.”

He chuckled once, a dry sound without humor.

“What is your name, child.”

The ant scraped at the empty air no longer but turned and filed back down the spine of the grass-blade. Away on her other side its fellows sifted round and perfect grains of sand into a round and perfect heap.

Once when she was very small she had hunkered down to watch one like this and while she watched some strange and angry urge had come over her and she had stood up and raised her small booted foot to stamp down on that insect village, that volcanic citadel raised one sand-speck at a time, it’s frenzied citizens unaware and undefended from the wrath about to rain down on them.

Hands had snatched her away and set her down firmly and it had been her grandfather who had crouched on his heels and held her high by either arm, his bright, beloved eyes somehow stern and laughing simultaneously, and he had said in grave tones, “It is no brave thing to wreck such little labors just because you are bigger and stronger, telefindë.”

“Daernana says they bite,” she had said with a scowl skirting under one eyebrow.

“As would you, if someone tried to stomp on you. At least, I hope you would.”

“I would.”

“There you have it.”

She had said, “They’re only ants.”

“And Iluvatar knows them each by name, as He knows yours, and cares for them apiece.”

“Ants don’t have names, Daerada.”

“Maybe not that you have heard.” He had gently tugged a sprig of her silver hair, and laughed when she made a swipe at his hand. “How many people in the world have never heard yours, and yet you have them, don’t you.”

“Lots of them.”

“Lots of them, yes. Maybe ants have as many names as you, and you just don’t know how to ask them what they are.”

The beach-ant found her bare foot and proceeded busily up her ankle. Her grandfather was not here to stop her if she deigned to crumple it between her fingers, or flatten its anthill all across the beach.

She put down her hand so it could scurry up her finger and lowered it down to its fellows and watched it disappear down the center tunnel.

Then she said very softly, “My name is Náltanárië.”

[heresathreebee]

Ruby Moon Sunflower Seeds

[Colonel Rick Flag x Kaia Castle (OC)]

Summary: Rick has a fling with a temporary coworker only to find out a few years later she had his baby. Teaser Masterlist Part 2

Tag(s): 16+ | language, crude humor, soon to be canon typical violence, dual POVs, past and present tense.

Author's Notes: yeah we'll see if the title sticks, my alternates are on standby. Barely edited, no beta reader. Please enjoy! ~~~

Another task force assembles for a briefing, this time in a state of the art holographic projector room. Powered by an ancient magic eye that can peer into any time or place, even going outside of their known universe to explore alternatives. 

"Very Star Trek," Harley cooes. "What's that thing called? That thing, you know from that show and they made a movie about it!" 

She looks at Rick expectantly. He mumbles it, almost as if he was embarrassed. "A holodeck." 

"Alright people," Waller snaps her fingers and a box appears in her hand (courtesy of one of her IT jockeys). "This is the God's Eye. Now we have it on loan from a very powerful foreign dignitary and we are on a time limit so we need to get down to business and do it fast. Flag." 

Rick steps up to the table as Waller places the box on it. The top opens like a flower to reveal… well an eye. A disembodied eye the size of a grapefruit which flicks around in it's container until it catches sight of Rick, the closest person to it. 

"Ew..." literally anybody could have said it and the feeling was shared all around the room. 

"We need to locate a powerful sorcerer who will destroy Earth in 10 days," Waller begins. "Each of you will have to be at your best if we want to keep this rock spinning." 

"And that means workin' with him, does it?," Bloodsport growls and points a finger at Superman. 

"As a matter of fact it does." 

Before they could get into a pissing match, Harley appears at Rick's side (quite suddenly actually, she almost apparates). "So you can ask this thing anything at all? Like if pigs can fly or Channing Tatum's dick size?" 

Amanda glared dagger at her. 

"Harley I'm not one to talk but," Rick crosses his arm and motions with his hand over a straining bicep, "maybe let's not talk about dicks in front of the kid." 

He juts his chin at Dubois' girl, leaning like a scoundrel by the door (in prison orange no less). She has probably heard worse but hey the thought counts, right? Harley awws and tucks a hair behind her ear. 

"You know Flag, I think you might make a great dad someday." 

"Uh, thanks…?" 

Harley oOos and everyone knows trouble is coming. "Are you a dad? Do you have kids?" 

"No– look, can we please–" 

"Are you sure?" 

"Harley what are you–" Rick shakes his head, "no." 

"No like no you're not sure?" 

Before he can stutter a response, Harley presses her hand into the back of his and forces him to make contact with the all powerful eyeball. The colonel's entire stomach flips upside down but before anyone can blink Harley shouts: 

"Does Rick Flag have any kids?!" 

Belle Reve Penitentiary, the early years…

It's 2016 and the first Suicide Squad mission was ultimately a success. 

They fought the Enchantress, almost nobody died, the world was saved. Drinks were served all around the table right before those still serving sentences returned to their high security cells. 

The director had plenty of other prisoners in Belle to pick from now that she had shown what they were capable of. As time passed, some of them died horrific deaths and some got to return to their damp, gloomy cells to fight another day. Almost none of them went home though: most of these fuckers were serving a life sentence or three and rarely made it past their second mission. And despite himself, Colonel Rick Flag had begrudgingly grown to respect the prisoner known as Deadshot. 

This would be Lawton's third. Rick's, too. Amanda seemed to hold him back from missions that ended in tragedy… it almost felt like she knew they would be unsuccessful, but she still picked the teams and sent them in with trash intel and shoddy leadership. 

Waller called them jobs they could afford to lose. Rick called them corporate mandated death squads. And despite her uncharacteristic tendency to hold him back from those certain death missions, he was not so foolish as to believe this mission was any less suicidal than the others. 

"Here's your team, Colonel." 

Waller's IT tech slipped him a stack of paper files and pulled them all up on screen for the rest of them to see. "For this mission we will be bringing back Floyd Lawton into the field. Expert marksman, decent secondary lead, he'll be one of your more mentally competent allies." 

"Fantastic," Rick said flatly. 

After Lawton, it was all downhill. Jeremy Tells aka Double Down who can turn his flesh into dangerous cards. Kaleidoscope, no known alias, with diamond colored tattoos over her entire body and the ability to use light to create visual hallucinations. Fucking Calendar Man, just a guy who does crime on holidays. 

"Thank god it's almost Christmas," Rick muttered to himself. 

Waylon Jones aka Killer Croc might not be so bad. Stable? Probably not, but he seemed to do fine following orders the last gig they had. Rick wasn't getting a read on the likes of Zazzala aka Queen Bee aside from devious but then Waller had to throw a curveball in, didn't she? 

"That is a child." Rick threw the stack of folders on the desk with a page flipped to Nemesis Kid. 

"That," Waller replied, "is an alien from the future. His ability is to be able to defeat any one opponent he is fighting no matter what." 

"How the fuck did you capture him, then?" 

"Can't fight if you're sleeping," she shrugs. "But nevertheless he's just as dangerous as the rest of them and should be treated as such."

"Weakness?" 

"He can only successfully defeat one opponent at a time." 

The rest of the team were mercs, duds, a few guards from the pen. One Rick realized was neither a prisoner nor a guard. "What's her deal?" 

Waller barely glanced at the page. "Castle is on a trial run. Thinking about a second squad leader for future runs of the Task Force." 

Rick knows exactly what that means. She's your replacement if you die out there. 

Well fuck, he resigns himself to the thought and assumes the goal to prepare her for anything. 

Previous Masterlist Next

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 20

Request: Yes or No

~

"Time travel sounds fun until you see how cringy you used to be." You said, watching Nebula fix some things on the suit Scott had on.

"I've never been cringy." Scott said. You stayed silent in response, glancing at Rhodes. Scott blinked, scoffing softly as you giggled.

"You're great, Scott." You gave a tired smile. Bruce went to put in the red capsules.

"Hey- Hey, be careful!"

"I'm being very careful." Bruce replied.

"No, you're being very Hulky." Scott put in the capsules himself. Even if Bruce was careful, he could still crush whatever was in there without even thinking about it. It was weird seeing Bruce in Hulks body but you supposed it helped end the beef they had. Scott and Bruce went back and forth until he turned small and big in a second.

"Alright, one test run." Scott gave a sheepish smile, glancing at everyone in the room. "I'm not ready for this."

"I'm game." You turned your head, looking at Clint. You crossed your arms, a soft sigh leaving you.

"I'll do it." Clint shrugged. Scott licked his lips, looking at Bruce. Bruce gave him a small nod so Scott walked out of the room to change out of the suit. Clint followed.

"So.. He got a new tattoo." Rhodes glanced at you. You licked your lips, shrugging lightly. Rhodes sighed, leaving the room momentarily before returning with some twizzlers. He offered one to you, giving a small smile. You took it, taking a small bite from it as Clint walked into the room with the suit on. Nebula made sure everything was good with the suit.

"Clint, you're gonna feel a little discombobulated from the shift. Don't worry about it." Bruce told him.

"Wait, wait.. Let me ask you something. If we can do this, you know go back in time, why don't we just find baby Thanos and just.." Rhodes made a wrapping and squeezing motion.

"I mean, it's a solid idea. Baby Thanos was probably real ugly anyways." You said, chewing on the candy. Bruce stared at you and Rhodes in disbelief.

"First of all, that's horrible-"

"It's Thanos."

"And secondly, time doesn't work that way. Changing the past doesn't change the future."

"We go back and get the stones before Thanos gets them.. Thanos doesn't get the stones!" Scott said, shrugging. Rhodes nodded, motioning to him.

"Problem solved!"

"Bingo." Clint nodded as Nebula glanced at them, giving a small shake of her head.

"That's not how it works." She muttered.

"Anyways, who told you that?"

"Star Trek, Terminator, Time Cop, Time After Time, Wrinkle in Time, Hot Tub Time Machine-"

"So, any movie with time in the name." You said with a chuckle.

"Well, it doesn't work like that. If you travel to the past, that past becomes your future and your former present becomes your past." Bruce explained. You hummed, continuing to munch on the twizzler.

"If time travel works.. That means there's different versions of ourselves in different.. Dimensions, right? Like living things we've lived and making decisions we'll eventually make?"

"Yes, actually." Bruce nodded, glad that at least someone was getting it.

"For example, my past self might be in Sokovia fighting Ultron right now while my future self might be relaxing on a beach." Bruce said with a shrug. You hummed, nodding.

"I wonder what my future self is doing.."

"Probably getting therapy instead of napping and drinking." Rhodes muttered, glancing at you. You scoffed softly.

"You drink?" Clint questioned, brows furrowing as a frown tugged at his lips. You shifted your gaze back to the man you used to call dad and shrugged.

"Occasionally." Once the suit was good to go and Bruce had told Clint everything he needed to do, you followed the guys and Nebula to the platform Rocket had built. It was surprising how much a raccoon could built. You glanced at Thor, giving him a small nod. Bruce walked up to the controls, the others standing behind him as they watched Clint stand in the center.

"Alright, Clint.. We're going in three.. Two.." You could tell Clint was nervous, you were too. Despite everything, he had still been someone who took you in and loved you. You slowly chewed on the twizzler, gaze flickering around the platform. To Clint it could feel like hours but it would merely be seconds for you and the others. Clint suddenly appeared, falling on the ground. The helmet retracted as he panted. Natasha quickly rushed up onto the platform with you following incase he had injuries. Natasha helped him up, getting him grounded as Clint looked around.

"I saw her... I saw Lila again.." Clint panted. You stared at him, swallowing as your grip on the twizzler tightened. Clint tossed a baseball glove at Tony, nodding.

"It worked." Clint said. A sense of relief filled you along with everyone. There was a chance at getting everyone back. The team turned, heading to an office in order to talk more and come up with a game plan. You finished your twizzler, taking a seat and watching Tony pull up pictures of the stones.

"We gotta find out the when and the where." Steve said, looking over all of the stones.

"Almost everyone in this room has had at least one encounter with an infinity stone." Steve turned his attention onto everyone. You supposed Vision counted as an encounter.

"Or substitute encounter by being damn near killed by one of the stones." Tony added, shrugging as he sipped on his coffee.

"I haven't." Scott piped in. "I have no clue what the hell you're talking about."

"Regardless, we only have enough pinparticles for one trip each and these stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history." Bruce said, slowly walking around the office.

"Our history." Tony reminded him. "So, not alot of convenient spots to drop in."

"Which means we'll have to pick our targets." Clint muttered. Tony nodded, shooting him the side eye. You cocked a brow when you made eye contact with Tony. Tony simply patted your shoulder.

"Let's start with the ether. Thor, what do you know?" Steve asked, everyones' attention shifting onto the god of lighting. Thor sat in a corner, coke bottle in hand and sunglasses on.

"Is he asleep?" Natasha asked after Thor didn't answer. You stared at him. The last five years had definitely been rough for him.

"Pretty sure he's dead." Rhodes mumbled. You sighed, reaching forward and grabbing a cup of water. You made it turn ice cold before tossing it at the god. Thor jolted awake, looking down at his wet shirt.

"Thor, the reality stone. What do you know about it?" Steve asked again, watching him stand and approach the picture of the reality stone. You listened to Thors' rambling, turning to look at Tony. Scott was the only one interested in what he had to say. Tony approached him, urging him to sit.

"Alright.. Who's next?"

~~~~~~~~~~

You stared at the pictures. Three stones in New York, one in Asgard, and the other two in Morag. You looked at Steve as he approached the hologram.

"Alright, we have a plan. Six stones, three teams. One shot." Steve said. You swallowed, glancing at Rocket and Thor. You had been assigned on their team. Just in case. You stood up with the others, going off to change. You stared at the two pictures in your locker. One of the Barton family and the other of the Stark family. You headed towards the platform after changing, standing beside Thor and Rocket.

"Stay safe." Natasha said softly, giving your arm a squeeze. Steve gave a pep talk before you put your helmet on. You absolutely hated the feeling as you went through what looked like a blue tunnel. When you blinked, you were in Asgard. Thor held a finger up to his lips, passing by a room. You followed, glancing back and seeing his brother. You had never officially met Loki but he was an odd dude. You reached a hall, standing besides Thor. You listened to the women talk in the hall. You shared a look with Rocket.

"There's Jane." Thor whimpered, shaking his head. Rocket sighed.

"Alright.." Rocket hopped off the stone block, looking at you and Thor.

"You're gonna charm her, (Y/N) will be our lookout, and I'll poke her with this thing, get the stone, and we'll be gone." Rocket said, watching Thor. You gave a nod but Thor sniffled.

"I'll be right back. The wine cellar is just down here. My father used to have this huge barrel of ale." You stared at Thor, letting out a sigh as you scratched your forehead. You heard a door opening and quickly ducked besides Rocket.

"Yes, and could you also let me know when Gaia plans on visiting again?" You blinked, feeling your body freeze. You slowly stood, glancing at Thor as he slowly walked down the hall, gaze on the woman.

"Who's the fancy woman?" Rocket asked, hopping onto the stone. You swallowed, turning your head and looking at the woman.

"That's my mother..." Thor answered. Your eyes slightly widened, turning to face Thor. You opened your mouth to ask him a question.

"She dies today." Thor whispered. You shut your mouth, frowning. You licked your lips, gaze flickering around.

"How.. How does she know Gaia?" You asked softly. Thor glanced at you with furrowed brows.

"She was a friend of my mothers'." Thor answered. He looked back at where his mother had been, shaking his head.

"I can't do this." He breathed out, beginning to pant softly. You and Rocket faced him. Rocket told Thor to get closer as Thor rambled. You blinked as Rocket slapped him, almost laughing at the sight of a raccoon slapping a god.

"You think you're the only one who lost people? What do you think we're doing here? I lost the only family I ever had. Same with nature boy over here. I get you miss your mom, but she's gone. Really gone and there are plenty of people who are kind of gone. You can help them. So is it too much to ask that you brush the crumbs out of your beard, talk to the girl, and when she's not looking, suck the infinity stone and help us get our families back?" Rocket stared at him. Thor nodded, a small whimper leaving him as his eyes watered.

"Thor, calm down." You said softly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You're the god of lighting, Thor. You can do this."

"Yeah, yeah, I can." Thor nodded. You gave him a small smile, following Raccoon towards the door. You turned, hearing footsteps rushing away. You sighed.

"He's gone." You muttered. Rocket groaned softly.

"You go after him. I'll go get the stone." Rocket said, turning around and walking towards the room.

"I don't know this place." You huffed, looking at the talking raccoon. Rocket let out an exasperated sigh.

"Be my lookout." He mumbled. You walked towards the room Jane was in, watching Rocket enter. You stood infront of the doors, gaze flickering around. You had no idea what you were gonna do if somebody asked you what you were doing. You swallowed, glancing in the direction Thors' mother had gone in.

"He'll be fine." You assured yourself, speedwalking in the direction. You spotted Thor, quietly walking towards him.

"Thor-"

"Shh." He brought up a finger to his lips. Thor grabbed you, keeping you hidden behind the pillar as his mother passed by. She dismissed her girls. You and Thor peeked around the corner.

"What are you doing?" You flinched, letting out a yelp as a woman yelped as well. You turned and faced her, watching her look at Thor. Thor suddenly grabbed you, covering you with his jacket.

"You're better off leaving the sneaking to your brother." The woman said, head tilting.

"What are you wearing? Who is this?" She asked, stepping forward. You swatted Thor's arm away, clearing your throat.

"Uhm, I'm- I'm (Y/N)." You said. Rocket was gonna kill you.

"Frigga." She gave a polite smile. "What are you wearing?" Friggas' brows furrowed, looking Thor over. Frigga slowly approached her son, placing a hand on his cheek. Thor rambled slightly. Frigga smiled softly.

"You're not the Thor I know, are you?" She asked softly.

"Yes I am."

"The future hasn't been kind to you, has it?" She gently brushed some hair out of his face. You watched her, gaze softening. You could see why Thor loved his mother so much. They shared a tight hug, something Thor had desperately needed.

"Let's talk." Frigga smiled. You tuned out as Thor spoke to his mother. You walked around her room, looking over the glass. You licked your lips, looking over at them.

"How do you know Gaia?" You asked softly. Frigga turned to look you curiously.

"Like, uhm, Thor told me but I.. I wanna know more." You said, facing her. Frigga tilted her head, slowly approaching you.

"Gaia? What would you want with her?"

"She's my mother and she.. She kind of abandonded me." You shrugged lightly, letting out a small awkward laugh. Frigga hummed, gaze softening.

"Gaia's in.. It's hard to explain. She's in The Garden. She lives there and it's how she watches over her creations." Frigga explained.

"How do I get there?"

"Fairy rings. Only certain people have access to her portals." Frigga said. You nodded, keeping it in mind. Thor stood, approaching you and his mom.

"Mother, I must tell you something-"

"No, Thor." Frigga turned to face her son, pressing a finger to his lips.

"Mother-"

"Guys!" Rocket shouted, running towards you. "You were supposed to watch the door!"

"I know." You gave an apologetic smile. Rocket shook his head, showing the stone.

"I got it." He breathed out. "Oh, hey, you must be mom."

"I wish we had more time." Thor said softly. Frigga smiled gently, grabbing his hands.

"This was a gift. Now you go and be the man you were meant to be." Frigga said softly. Thor gave her a sad smile.

"I love you, mom."

"I love you." Frigga hugged Thor tightly. She pulled back and smiled. Rocket began to count but Thor stopped him. He extended his hand towards the balcony area. You and Rocket shared a look.

"W-What are we looking at?" He asked.

"It takes a second." Frigga chuckled softly. Thors hammer returned to him, making him beam. You smiled softly as the suit returned.

"Nice meeting you." You said.

"Same here." Frigga smiled, giving a small wave. The helmet came on and you went back through the nauseating blue tunnel. You grunted, shutting your eyes tightly.

"Yeah, fuck that." You muttered, rubbing your forehead. You looked around, noticing Clint fall to his knees with teary eyes.

"Where's Nat?"

~~~~~

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley @babyvisionisamenace @jjk-is-my-shit

[quokkacore]

with great power I [lee jeno]

summary: there are two things jeno loves most about his life. one being spiderman, the other being you, his best friend. there’s just one issue: after your father’s death, you decide you hate both spiderman and yourself.

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre: superhero au, high school au, coming of age, best friends to strangers(ish) to lovers, fluff, ANGST, minor crack

warnings (for this chapter): language, violence, gun violence, the mafia, parental death, police presence, sexual references, bullying (ily san im sorry), the dreamies being dicks to each other, police corruption, towards the end jeno experiences something similar to sensory overload, americanized names, pop culture references, VERY jeno centric

song rec: we go up - nct dream // any song - zico // 21 questions - waterparks // talk (remix feat. megan thee stallion & yo gotti) - khalid // sunrise - ateez // i really like you - carly rae jepsen // dare - gorillaz // stray kids - the tortoise and the hare

word count: 10.5k

a/n: this is so late...... i blame attack on titan. but hey!! better late than never :] a huge thanks to @doderyscoffee​ for beta reading <3

main masterlist // story masterlist

chapter one: jeno and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

Jeno despised Tuesdays. He was pretty sure that Tuesdays despised Jeno as well because all of his worst days just so happen to be Tuesdays. He was 96% sure that, if there was a god, his day off was on Tuesdays, or that the planets aligned in such a manner on Tuesdays that it caused universal despair and misery. If he was to take Donghyuck's word for it, his chakra attracted negative energy the most on Tuesdays.

When Jeno was 5, his goldfish Pippin had died on a Tuesday. When he had his ass handed to him on the playground by San Choi in the third grade, it was a Tuesday. And in the seventh grade, he'd failed his Spanish test, missed his bus and walked home in the rain only to find out that his Aunt Sunny was at work, he'd left his keys in his locker and that had to wait an hour before she got home to unlock it for him, all on a Tuesday. 

And wouldn't you know it, here he was, late for the first day of senior year, which was, of all days, a godforsaken Tuesday.

In his eternal wisdom, he'd stayed up gaming with Renjun until two in the morning, and because of it, slept through his three alarms, one set at six-thirty, the other at 6:45, the last one at 7:00. 

He'd woken up at 7:17, to the sound of his elderly neighbor's pet chihuahua barking at a pigeon, checked the time, immediately panicked, sped into the shower, gotten dressed in a haste, grabbed a few granola bars from the pantry, and ran out the door while trying to jam his backpack closed, and managed to catch the train at 7:40, which took about twenty minutes to get to his stop, plus a ten-minute walk to school, and class started at 8:10. Not to mention he’d have to stop by the office and pick up his schedule. At best, he’d be five minutes late to his first class. But tardies were tardies, regardless, and the last thing he needed was to lose his perfect attendance streak. 

He fished out his phone while standing on the train, waiting for his stop, scrolling through Instagram, and liking random pictures. A ping! from his phone caught his attention, then two, then a third. He smiled softly when your name popped up on his screen.

[7:48 AM]

y/n: pssst

y/n: shithead

y/n: where r u ????

[7:49 AM] 

y/n: i can sEE u online on ig u know

jeno: …… i'm on the train

jeno: woke up late

y/n: YOURE GONNA BE LATR

y/n: LATE*

y/n: ON THE FIRST DAY OF SENIOR YEAR

[7:50]

jeno: probably, yeah

jeno: it's the school district's fault, why would they make the first day of school on a fkn TUESDAY 

y/n: ohhh yeahh its terrible tuesday

y/n: [sent an attachment!]

[7:51 AM]

jeno: SHUT UP

jeno: you're not funny >:(

jeno: how dare you laugh at my misfortune

y/n: au contraire im hilarious

jeno: meanie :(

jeno: im gonna be late i hate it here

jeno: it'll end up on my permanent record and i'm not gonna get into college and then i'm gonna die,,,

[7:52 AM] 

y/n: sometimes ur worse than hyuck i swear 

y/n: FIRST OF ALL permanent records dont even exist !!!!!! its propaganda duh

y/n: also ur literally never late 

y/n: im sure o n e tardy wont do anything chill

y/n: dont be stupid youll be fine

Don’t be stupid. Too little, too late, he thought, already having got off the train at a previous stop. Now, he was looking for an unoccupied street or alleyway, which, for once, was easy, taking a deep breath before he did the exact opposite of what you’d told him not to do. Don’t be stupid. 

The buildings are low, he thought to himself, it’ll be easier to see me. 

Don’t be stupid.

Too late!

Thwip!

Jeno didn’t hesitate to use the web fluid to pull himself up onto the wall, climbing in a haste, before running and jumping onto the next building. He quickly built up a quick pace, using the web fluid occasionally to swing onto a building slightly out of jumping range. 

Signs in English, Chinese, Korean, and Spanish flew past him as he seemingly flew over the Queens traffic, leaving Flushing behind and crossing quickly into College Point quicker than he would if he took the train. He glanced to his left and caught a view of the bay, and far across it, the LaGuardia airport watchtower.

Jeno had lived in New York City his entire life. He knew Queens like the back of his hand, knew every dingy alleyway, every sketchy street, which restaurants to avoid if you didn’t want to get food poisoning, which convenience store aunties were the nicest and didn’t pinch his cheeks too hard. It was his home, and most likely would be for the rest of his life. 

But seeing it like this, flying past him below as he glided with ease from building to building would never cease to be a sight to him. It was like watching from the perspective of an outsider, seeing people in their cars, walking along the street gave him a brand new perspective. A Jeno’s eye view, he called it, since he was pretty sure he was the only one in New York City.

Another noise from his phone brought him back to reality. He shook his head, stopping briefly to catch his breath and fish out his phone briefly. 

[7:57 AM] 

y/n: let me know when u get here !!!

No time to respond, he put away the phone and continued his trek to school. He had less than ten minutes to get there. But he knew he was already at least five minutes away, much quicker than he would be if he had decided to stick to the train. He smiled a bit to himself, feeling ever so slightly smug.

The hustle and bustle of the city definitely proved challenging to find a place to land without many eyes, but he figured it out eventually, landing behind a dumpster in an alleyway behind a restaurant that he knew was about three or four blocks from the school. He figured it would be a lot better to take it on foot from here. The notebooks he was carrying in his backpack bounced up and down with every step he took. 

After what seemed like forever, the gates to the school appeared in his view, and Jeno felt a joy in his heaving chest, something he would have never thought would happen upon seeing the absolute hellhole that was Samuel Morse High School. 

[8:06 AM]

jeno: just did >:D

Picking up his schedule was both quick and insanely long. He couldn’t stop himself from tapping his left foot while the secretary found his schedule and handed it to him. “Kibum, please hurry,” He muttered, and Kibum raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was teasing. “That’s Mr. Kim to you, in school at least.” 

He handed Jeno his schedule a few seconds later. “Tell your Aunt to come pick up her casserole dish, by the way. She left it at my house after my last viewing party.”

“The Bachelor?”

“Please. We’re too classy for that. Drag Race.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Jeno,” Kibum said, staring up at him from his desk, his gaze now much more serious, “Get to class. Happy first day of senior year.”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim.”

He managed to make it to chemistry class at 8:09 with seconds to spare. His eyes quickly scanned the room upon entering, hoping his friends were in the class with him. He caught a few familiar faces, most of which, like San Choi's, he wished to avoid. No one paid him any mind. Everyone was still speaking to the people next to them, no doubt exchanging stories of summer vacation. 

  A hand shot up towards the back, waving at him. A smile stretched across his face as he registered your face, feet not hesitating to carry him towards the empty seat next to you. His heart skipped a beat at seeing your smile, and he tried his best to ignore it.

“Hey,” You greeted, “That was fast. I thought you said you were gonna be late.”

Jeno shrugged, eyes landing on the dark shade of the lab table. “The train was a lot faster than I expected, apparently.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Why do you smell so bad?”

“I, uh… ran a little.” 

You grimaced, and Jeno tried to casually sniff at his slightly sweaty clothes. It’s not that bad. “I still don’t understand why you won’t let me drive you to school. You’re literally next door.”

“I don’t know,” He answered, rolling his eyes, “Maybe it’s because when it comes to that truck, you are absolutely insane. You won’t even let me drink water in that thing.”

The truck in question, a faded red 1998 Chevrolet S-10, had been your gift to yourself for your 17th birthday. You’d spent two summers saving up to buy yourself a truck, and that was what you were able to get for what you had. To say it was a huge piece of junk on wheels was an understatement. 

The thing smelled like mothballs no matter how many air fresheners you bought it, the engine sounded like an old man having a coughing fit, and there was a very suspicious stain in the backseat that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you scrubbed it. But for some reason, you treated it like it was your own baby. The amount of times you’d yelled at Jaemin for trying to put his feet on the dashboard was too high to count.

You mirrored his movement, eyes rolling as you sighed. “At least let me drive you home after school today. Maybe you can stay and we can finally watch Blade Runner.”

You’d been trying to get him to watch the film for almost a month now, begging and pleading because you insisted that he’d love it. He offered an awkward stare, before opening his backpack and pulling out a notebook. “Can’t,” He mumbled, “I’m headed into Manhattan. I have my internship afterwards.”

“Oh, yeah,” You said nonchalantly, eyebrows shooting up as you remembered, “Park Industries.” 

He was about to reply when Mrs. Baker, the chemistry teacher, finally entered. She’d been working at SMHS for 30 years and had never, apparently, been nice, if his Aunt Sunny’s stories were anything to go by. However, she had apparently always spoken as if she smoked two packs a day. She was rambling about the importance of making the most of senior year academically, adult responsibilities, college, and whatnot. You and Jeno exchanged glances often throughout the monologue, hoping it would end soon. 

“Enough of that,” She said after what seemed like an eternity, “Everyone quiet down, I’m going to call roll.”

Names were quickly called, and Jeno was ready to pull out a pencil and start working with you until Mrs Baker demanded a switch in seats, beginning to call on random names in an effort to deter everyone from speaking. 

"Please not with Choi, please not with Choi," Jeno muttered under his breath, glancing warily at San, who was staring ahead, looking bored. 

San had had it out for Jeno ever since day one, in first grade. For some reason, everything Jeno did seemed to annoy the other boy. He wasn't funny enough, or too nerdy, or too quiet. Jeno was always too much or too little for him. 

You touched his forearm, and he looked towards you. 

“You’ll be fine,” You said softly, trying not to alert the teacher, “You’re not gonna get paired up with him, and you can take it to the office if you need to.” “Yeah, because I’m sure Coach Peralta would be thrilled if someone tried to get his precious midfielder in trouble.”

“Choi, San,” Mrs Baker’s voice rang throughout the room, and Jeno braced himself for the worst, eyebrows furrowing with worry. 

“You’ll be sitting with… L/N, Y/N.” 

Jeno’s shoulders slumped, but your face remained impassive. You picked up your stuff, and pouted silently at Jeno in apology, before making your way to the front. 

“Lee, Jeno,” Mrs Baker called a few minutes later, “You’ll be sitting with Jang, Yeeun.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief. Yeeun is nice, Jeno thought to himself, I could sit with Yeeun. She wasn’t part of his main friend group, but he had tutored her in math during sophomore year in exchange for her helping him with Spanish, and they’d been pretty friendly ever since. 

“Hey,” Yeeun greeted as Jeno sat down, and Jeno smiled at her. 

“Remember, these will be your assigned lab partners for the rest of the semester. No changes, no exceptions.” Mrs. Baker sat down at her desk, before beginning to talk about something Jeno didn’t really pay attention to.

You exchanged glances with Jeno, and he gave you a look of sympathy as you gestured at San with your eyes. San was talking to you about something—probably bragging about some soccer achievement—but you weren’t paying him much attention. Jeno swallowed something growing in his throat as he looked at how your hair looked today. 

It was nothing relatively new, the same hairstyle you used on most days. But still, there was a bit of a shine to it. He wondered vaguely if you had changed your shampoo, the other day you’d been complaining about how itchy your normal shampoo made your scalp—

“You still haven’t told her about how you feel?” Yeeun asked quietly, and Jeno’s head snapped back to look at her, eyes wide.

“W-what? Me. Like Y/N…” He laughed nervously, trying to keep his voice down. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding Yeeun’s accusatory stare. “You’re hilarious, Yeeun. Tell another one.”

Yeeun shook her head. “You’d better hurry before someone else snatches her up, Jen. She’s not gonna wait around for you forever.”

 “I don’t like her, Yeeun.” 

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Hey! Jeno Lee!”

“Hey! Jaemin Na! What do you want!” Jeno answered as he sat down, mimicking Jaemin’s tone next to him.

“Well, for starters, a million dollars, and second, a date with Yiren Wang, but I doubt you can help me with either of those, so...”

Jeno glanced at the rest of the table. Along with Jaemin, Mark,  Renjun, Donghyuck, and you were watching the interaction between the pair. “Where are the munchkins?” Jeno asked, noticing Chenle and Jisung’s absence. No one could really call them munchkins anymore. That nickname dated back to middle school, before the two underclassmen had gone through growth spurts.

“Eh, they should be here soon,” Renjun said, chewing on a french fry, “How’s your day been?”

“Pretty good so far, I guess. I got AP Calc with Mr. Washington later, though. That man wants me dead.”

You rolled your eyes. “He doesn’t want you dead. I’m telling you, you and Hyuck have been spending way too much time together. You’re being more dramatic than usual and Hyuck’s being more… weird than usual.”

“And just what is so weird about being enthusiastic about senior year, Y/N?” Donghyuck asked, shaking his head, “It’s our last year in this hellhole, I’m excited that we’re finally getting out of here. And besides—”

“Please don’t bring up the fact that you’re abandoning us next year.” Chenle seemingly appeared out of nowhere, sitting next to Renjun, Jisung following quickly behind him.

“Hi, Sungie,” You said with a smile, and Jisung smiled back. “Hi, Y/N.”

“What were you saying, Hyuck?” Jaemin looked at Donghyuck, who had taken the quick interaction as an opportunity to take a bite of his sandwich. His wide eyes darted to the slim boy, cheeks stuffed with chicken. 

“Oh,” He replied after swallowing, “This is gonna be my year. I’m getting male lead for the winter musical and no one is gonna stop me.”

“Do you even know what musical you guys are doing yet?” Mark asked, “What if it’s like… Shrek?”

Jisung made a face. “There’s a Shrek musical?”

Mark nodded, and Renjun laughed.

“I don’t know about male lead, if it’s Shrek. You should try out for Donkey,” The Chinese boy joked, “With those front teeth, you’re a shoo-in.”

The entire table was silent for a moment, before snorts and chortles started pouring out from everyone except Donghyuck.

“Fuck you, Huang.” 

Renjun flashed the friendliest smile he could muster. “Not if you paid me a million dollars.”

The subject remained on extracurriculars, everyone in your group except for Chenle and Jisung now wary of college applications. Donghyuck had been in theater ever since middle school, Renjun was in the robotics club and the debate team with Jaemin, who was also in the student council. Mark was on the math team with Jeno, and you had founded the film club. 

"You're not gonna believe who asked to sign up for film," You huffed, looking kind of confused. The rest of the table looked at you expectantly, and you pursed your lips, almost as if you were trying not to laugh.

"San Choi."

Renjun scoffed. Jaemin raised his eyebrows before letting out a single, humorless laugh. Jeno made a face, poking his plastic fork at you. 

"What is San Choi doing asking to sign up for film?"

"Fuck if I know. He said he needed one more extracurricular if he wanted to get into some college in Florida and he liked going to the movies, so he wanted to try out film."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I swear there's nothing in that guy's head but hot gas. It blows my mind."

"He's a dick," Chenle grumbled, "I'm still not over how he and Wooyoung taped Jisung to the flagpole last year."

Jisung scowled. "I thought we agreed to never bring that up again."

“Do you think they’ll finally calm the fuck down this year?” Jaemin wondered, looking wistful.

You took a sip of your coke and shook your head. “Doubt it. They’re not the hateful eight for a reason.”

The mood at the table turned tense, until Jaemin frowned at his french fries, before sighing and clapping his hands together dramatically. “I would like to hear,” He mused, “About the nuance that theatre gives the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when converted into musical form.”

Donghyuck beamed. “Oh, it’s amazing. You see…”

If it was difficult to get Donghyuck to stop talking in general, it was impossible when it was about theater.

The conversation continued on until the bell rang, and the eight of you had to go your separate ways. Jaemin and Jeno had the same class, so they both walked together down a relatively calm hallway. Jaemin looked both ways, before finally lowering his voice. 

“So, you’re going to see Mr. Park today?”

Jeno nodded, looking down at his shoes. “He said he wanted to give me an assignment. Says there’s something big going on.”

Jaemin’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “Did he say what kind of something?” 

Jeno shook his head, pouting slightly. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.” 

Once school was out, Jeno was getting ready to get onto the subway once again, this time heading towards Midtown. It was only day one and, as Jeno had predicted, Mr. Washington probably was out to get him, because he’d swamped the class with homework.

As he left the school, he spotted you in the parking lot, leaning against your car door, texting someone. He glanced at his phone. He still had plenty of time, he figured. He walked over to you, and when you looked up, you smiled. 

“Hey!” Your voice had that signature tone of enthusiasm to it, and Jeno smiled back immediately. 

“Hello,” He sing-songed. “So, I was thinking… are you free on Friday night?”

You looked somewhere above his head, furrowing your eyebrows before you perked up again and nodded. “Yep! Why?”

“I’m free after nine. Maybe then I could come over to your house? So I can finally get you to stop harassing me about Blade Runner.”

You grinned, pumping your fists enthusiastically. “Hell yes,” You answered, “Do you want me to get like, some frozen pizzas or something?” 

“Pizza sounds good,” He said. “Who are you even waiting for?” 

You made a face that made it seem as if you’d just gotten a whiff of rotten milk. “Well—”

Your response was interrupted when the school doors slammed open, and eight figures poured out, carrying themselves with confidence Jeno both envied and despised. He frowned, trying not to react at their loud whooping and laughing. The Hateful Eight.

“Oh.” Jeno averted his gaze, meeting your eyes again.

“Yeah. If you don’t hear from me later it’s because I jumped out of my truck because I don’t wanna work with—”

“Well, hello, gorgeous!” San’s voice filled the parking lot, and Jeno took a deep breath. Your mouth stretched into a tight-lipped smile at the unwanted ‘compliment’. 

“Hey, San.” Your friendly passive aggressive tone almost made Jeno smile. “I’ve been waiting here for like, fifteen minutes. You could have just given me your number and asked me to send you pictures of my notes, you know.”

He shrugged, turning his body so that his back was turned to Jeno. “Sorry, babe. Coach wanted to talk to us about the upcoming season. When he gets going, it’s hard to get him to stop. And besides, where’s the fun in just asking for pictures when I could come here, talk to you, and take the pictures myself?”

You didn’t respond, but rather pulled out your backpack and began digging through it. When you pulled out your notebook, you handed it to San, who flashed a wink at you. You barely held back a gag. 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll just be a minute.” 

He walked over to the hood of your truck, and just as you were about to continue your conversation, two figures slung their arms around both of Jeno’s shoulders, causing him to flinch. 

Out of the fifteen soccer players on the team, San and his best friends—seven of them, to be precise—were the worst. The others were pretty nice. But right now, seeing two of those seven surround your best friend made you uneasy. 

Wooyoung was loud. He was also a temperamental brat. His dad owned three used car dealerships over in Brooklyn, so naturally, he thought he owned the entire world. He wasn’t someone who would get too physical in fights, like San, or Jongho, or Yeosang. But when he was angry, he could easily get you to jump into the stratosphere by yelling at you once. Over the years, he’d made several teaching assistants and substitute teachers cry, only getting let off with a slap on the wrist every time. 

 Yunho was terrifying for completely different reasons. He was friendly, but a little too friendly to the people he wanted to control. He could read people like books and could easily manipulate whoever he wanted. But he wasn’t afraid of getting physical either, especially not when he was built like a goddamn Power Rangers Megazord. 

All in all, they definitely weren't anyone you wanted near you, near your friends. Especially considering how much they had it out for your friends. 

"Hey, buddy," Yunho said, looking down at Jeno with a wide smile. "How was summer vacation?"

Jeno gnawed on the side of his cheek as he considered his answer. "Um, it was okay." He looked at you to catch your eyes darting between San, Yunho and Wooyoung, like you were analyzing the situation. "I kinda stayed in and played video games most of the t—"

"Cool, cool," Yunho answered, carding his free hand through his bleach blond hair. "What about you, Woo?"

"Oh, dude, it was so cool," He bragged, "I went to Brazil for like, a month. I went clubbing with Instagram models and shit, it was wild."

You stared at him as he patted Jeno on the back rather aggressively. "Where did you go? Have you ever even left New York?" 

You knew the answer. Only a few times when the debate team went to compete in different states. Jeno spoke up again. "Well, yeah a few t—"

"Doubt it," Yunho scoffed. He craned his head back. "San, you done yet?"

"Almost!" San answered. Yunho turned to face you, and for some reason his smile seemed genuinely kind. “What about you, Y/N?”

You never understood why it was that the soccer team hated your entire friend group, but seemed to tolerate you. It made no sense.

So you shrugged. “Not a lot, I guess. Did my summer reading. Hung out with my friends.” You flashed a reassuring smile at Jeno. “Right, Jen?”

Immediately, he relaxed a little bit. “Yeah.”

San appeared from behind Yunho, Jeno and Wooyoung. “Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You waved your hand, wanting them to get rid of them quickly. “Don’t mention it. But next time, just text me for my notes. I have to get to work, so…”

“Oh! My bad,” He answered with fake remorse, before unlocking his phone and handing it over to you. “Here. For next time.”

You stifled a deep sigh, punching in the numbers hesitantly. “Just for homework, got it?”

San took his phone back, holding a hand over his heart and raised his head. “On a gentleman's honor,” He declared, and you bit back a laugh. Jeno looked like he was going to hurl.

“San!” The team captain—Hongjoong—called from a few feet away, “Are you guys done yet or what?”

“Coming!” San yelled back.

“Alright, we’ll let you go,” Wooyoung said, patting Jeno on the back again, a bit too harsh for comfort. “Bye, Y/N! See you around.”

 The three of them stalked off, leaving you and a very frazzled Jeno. “Dicks,” You muttered once they were out of earshot. “You good?”

Jeno shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

You tilted your head, frowning. “Jeno—”

“I gotta go,” He said quickly. “I’ll see you later?”

You nodded, offering a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Be careful!” 

Jeno offered a deep bow, fluttering his eyelashes. “On a gentleman’s honor,” He sighed, adding a very bad British accent to it. You burst out laughing, eyes squeezing shut.

You didn’t catch the way Jeno’s shoulders relaxed at the sound.

I want you to know now

Baby, it could go down

I don’t wanna talk about it

Baby, let’s just go now

The train ride into Midtown didn’t take too long. He spent it digging through his backpack for his Park Industries lanyard, listening to music and thinking about you.

When you talk right to me 

You gon’ have to do me

Every time you think you’re leaving 

You running back to me

You’d met Jeno when you were six. Truth be told, he didn’t really remember. For him it was like you weren’t there at one point and by the time you were, you were thicker than thieves. It was a difficult time for him. He had just lost both of his parents, and was moving in with his Aunt Sunny and his Uncle Jinki, who were barely out of college at the time. He’d had to move to a new school and basically restart his entire life. You were the first sense of stability in his life for months. 

Your mom lived next to his aunt and uncle. So naturally, you went to the same school and went on the same bus. And somewhere along the way, you two clicked. You’d introduced him to Renjun, Jaemin and Donghyuck. You were there to comfort him whenever he got pushed off the slide by San or Wooyoung. 

He was there for you when your stepdad and stepbrother moved in when you were nine and you weren’t sure how to deal with it. He was there when your mom died when you were thirteen. He’d introduced you and your friends to Mark, Chenle and Jisung. 

And you were there when his Uncle Jinki got killed when he was fifteen. And because fate had an especially cruel sense of irony, it had happened on a Tuesday. You didn’t know, but at the time, he had just gotten his powers. Your comfort and words unknowingly had a secondary effect: he made the decision to use them for good, and… well. The rest was history. 

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Talk about where we're goin'

Before we get lost, lend me your thoughts

Can't get what we want without knowin'

Just like when he met you, he didn’t recall an exact moment where he realized he’d fallen in love with you. He knew there was a world where he loved you, but wasn’t in love with you. And he knew that there was a world here he’d fallen in love with you—he was living in that world now. He realized he was living in that world maybe when he was sixteen, and had been stuck in it ever since. 

You were it for him. He’d had crushes before. But never something like this, where he was so aware of your presence around him. It wasn’t the way he was hyper aware of someone like San, or like Yunho or Jongho. It wasn’t out of anxiety or fear, where a shift in mood activated his fight or flight. He was aware of you in a way that only people who truly know each other do, where he could pick up on subtle changes in your behavior, but not out of fear. Rather, out of a desire to take care of you and to not have you worry about anything. 

I've never felt like this before

I apologize if I'm movin' too far

Can we just talk? Can we just talk?

Figure out where we're goin'...

As the train rolled into the station that was a fifteen minute walk from Park Tower, Jeno put away his headphones and took a deep breath.

The “Jeno Tingle” as his Aunt Sunny called it—Jeno hated the term—had taken him a few years to gain control of. And while he could never truly turn it off, he could at least tune it out enough to be more at ease. The only time he did so was at school or when he was studying, just because he wanted to feel normal, and because being aware of everything going on around him really messed with his concentration. 

Jaemin didn’t understand. “If I was able to tell whenever Seonghwa was behind me because he wanted to scare me into doing his chemistry homework, I’d never turn that shit off,” He’d said once. But truthfully, Jeno didn’t really care. Because while yes, he was still slightly scared of the “hateful eight”, he knew damn well that if things got to be too much, he could kick their asses if he wanted to. 

It was his friends he worried about. He couldn’t be around them 24/7. You, not so much. He knew you knew how to fight. Even worse, he knew that San had the hots for you so you were off limits to the rest of them, be it bullying or flirting. But for everyone else… Well. He couldn’t hover over them like some guardian angel. 

Now that the “Jeno Tingle” was on, it allowed him to sense everyone within a certain range around him. He could zero in on certain sounds with ease, and his reflexes became heightened. Halfway on his walk up Park Avenue, he jumped away from a chihuahua on its leash a second before it started barking at him.

When he entered the first floor lobby of the Park Building, he scoured the crowd of employees and visitors until he landed on one familiar face. 

He'd met Doyoung about a year after his dad started dating your mom. Things between your parents were starting to get serious, and Doyoung was four years older than you were. When they moved into your house, Doyoung as your new stepbrother became the de facto chaperone and babysitter. If you wanted to go to the mall with Jeno, he had to take you. Every time you dragged Jeno to the movies, Doyoung had to go also. 

To an extent, it wasn't that bad. Doyoung was cool, and he was smart—he was the one who got Jeno interested in computers and chemistry. He graduated high school at 16, and finished his bachelor's degree at 19. He'd also interned at Park Industries, and secured a job there almost immediately after college. 

To an extent, he was the whole reason Mr. Park knew who he was, because of one incident. It was relatively soon after he started the whole vigilante thing. Jeno, still figuring out how to maneuver on the webs that shot out of his wrists, had accidentally crashed into your backyard late at night, when only Doyoung was awake. He was standing in the back door while he was waiting for his dog to finish peeing. 

Initially, the older boy had freaked out, thinking that it was a burglar or something. When he yelled out that his dad was a cop and was asleep in the house, Jeno panicked, and pulled off his mask, holding up his hands.

“Woah, woahwoahwoah! Doyoung! It’s me, it’s me!” 

Doyoung’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, paying no mind to the dog as it sauntered up to Jeno, before turning onto its back in a request for belly rubs.

"You're the spider guy everyone's been talking about!?"

"Spider man," Jeno had answered, voice cracking as he dusted himself off. He cringed at the sound of his voice. "...and yes."

Of course, his cover was blown, and he'd begged Doyoung not to tell anyone, especially not you. And while Doyoung had promised not to tell you, it didn't stop him from telling his boss. 

That had been almost three years ago now. The rest was history, and after that Jeno didn’t have to run around in bright red sweatpants and dollar store swimming goggles. Now, he had a nanotech suit that allowed him to activate protocols of the suit through voice commands using something top-secret Mr. Park called D.R.E.A.M technology. Direct Response Engaged As Machine—yeah, Jeno didn’t get it either. 

Doyoung offered Jeno a smile as he escorted Jeno past security, showing them his employee clearance pass. "Hey. How have you been?"

Jeno shrugged, recounting his day in minor detail as he was led into an elevator labeled authorized personnel only. 

This elevator only went up to the 35th floor, seeing as everything past that was only cleared for a certain list of people approved by Mr. Park and his security team, and everything past the 90th floor were Mr. Park's private living quarters. 

Now, as Doyoung led him to another elevator to head up to the 85th floor, which was always where Jeno got to meet with Mr. Park—which wasn't often, maybe once or twice a year—he wondered where he would be if he hadn’t surprised Doyoung that night. He would probably still be using those ugly red sweatpants as part of his disguise.

"How's Y/N?" Doyoung asked. 

"Oh, she seems okay. That guy who hates me keeps coming onto her though. He's a huge douchebag."

Doyoung frowned. "He's not harassing her, is he? Because if he is—"

"He just won't stop flirting, even though she clearly isn't interested," Jeno said bitterly, "He isn't physical or anything. Trust me, it wouldn't end well for him if he was."

Doyoung wasn't quite sure how to respond to the younger boy's dark tone. He looked down, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“So… how’s the apartment?” Jeno asked. Doyoung perked up instantly.

“Oh, now that Taeyong’s moved in and did his interior design thing, it looks great. He’s really done a great job at it.”

“When am I gonna meet this guy? He sounds cool.”

“He’s really cool,” Doyoung hummed, cheeks heating up. “Things are getting really serious.”

Jeno smiled at how flustered Doyoung, who was normally so level headed and calm, became at the mention of his boyfriend.

“You guys sound like a really good couple,” He said. Doyoung chuckled, waving his hand. “Oh, well—” 

 The elevator dinged, and Doyoung sighed. “I’ll tell you later. C’mon.”

The hallway it opened up to was lined with pictures of the company's history, starting from pictures of black and white of people in vintage clothing, to pictures in sepia tones to finally pictures of the current CEO at locations around the world: Chanyeol Park.

Jeno walked behind Doyoung as he led him down the hallway, before stopping in front of a door, and a friendly looking man in a suit. 

Junmyeon was a part of Chanyeol’s Security and Intelligence team, and often sat in on these meetings with Jeno. The chain of contact also included him. If Jeno couldn’t contact Doyoung (which rarely happened), he’d contact Junmyeon. And if he couldn’t contact either of them, or it was an emergency, only then could he contact Chanyeol. So far, that had only happened once.

"Hey, Junmyeon," Doyoung said, "Mr. Park's 4:30 is here." 

Junmyeon nodded, before smiling at Jeno and giving him a wave. "Hey, kid."

Jeno offered an awkward grin. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

Junmyeon rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Kid, you're making me feel ancient. I've told you a million times, just call me Junmyeon."

Jeno shuffled awkwardly, before nodding at the older man, watching as he pressed a button on his earpiece. "Hey, Yeol. Jeno's here."

The muffled response was barely heard, but Jeno automatically understood what Mr. Park said. Junmyeon turned to open the door, and let the pair inside. The “office”—if it could even be called that—opened up to more of a lounge, than anything. A wall of glass overlooked the Manhattan skyline, but Jeno knew that from the outside it looked only like a wall, due to camouflage technology developed by Mr. Park himself. As Doyoung and Junmyeon stayed back, closer to the door, Jeno took a few steps toward the man in question.

Chanyeol was standing a few feet in front of the glass window, working on a holographic model of a new piece of tech. His face was turned downward in a concentrated frown. He barely spared the teenager a glance as he said fondly, “Hey, kid.”

Jeno was used to this. Chanyeol wasn’t cold per se, but he wasn’t warm at all. He knew that Chanyeol cared about him, even if he didn’t really show it in a conventional way. Chanyeol was a very… eccentric man, so he had his own way of saying and doing things. 

“Hi, Mr. Park. Um… you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yep! Needed some help from the friendly neighborhood Spiderman… A little birdie told me about something going on in Queens.”

“Queens?” Jeno asked, gripping the straps of his backpack. “You mean, other than the usual stuff?”

“Other than the usual stuff,” Chanyeol repeated, nodding. With a wave of his hand, the hologram disappeared, and another one appeared in its place. This time, instead of a 3D model, a few pictures and another, smaller 3D model appeared. Chanyeol turned to face him, frown deepening. He pointed at the model—a long, shiny oval-shaped purple stone. It reminded Jeno of an amethyst, but instead of turning white at the base, it turned to an iridescent jade tone. “You know what this is, right?”

Jeno nodded, remembering seeing the rocks all over the news when he was a kid. “That’s… that’s a Chitauri stone. From the invasion a few years back.”

Chanyeol nodded, standing up straight. “These stones have the potential to power weapons with no need to recharge, or change them out. They’re an infinite, extremely strong power source, Jeno, and in the wrong hands can be very dangerous.”

Jeno took a deep breath, feeling his stomach sink slowly. Chanyeol sighed. “Cleanup of the city after the invasion was long, and difficult, and obviously the government and the company weren’t able to get everything. It caused a black market to pop up. Now, the NYPD has been investigating it for years, but they have their limits… that’s where you come in.”

“M-me, Mr. Park?”

Chanyeol gave him a crooked, reassuring smile. He pointed at one of the pictures, which was of a man who most likely didn’t know he was photographed. He was walking somewhere, face looking angry and stern.

“You don’t know who this is, right?”

Jeno shook his head, and Chanyeol turned his head to nod at Junmyeon. “You’re up, tough guy.”

Junmyeon huffed, before walking up to Jeno. He put his hand on Jeno’s shoulder as if he could tell that he was growing anxious. 

“Jeno, that’s Henry Duke. From what we understand on the intel team, he’s one of the cornerstones of the alien tech black market. He’s one of the top dogs. From what we understand, he likes to be present for all major negotiations that his group makes. A source of ours told us that there’s going to be a negotiation on Friday night not too far away from LaGuardia. We want you to go out there and just get a feel of what’s going on.”

“Just watch them, right?” Jeno looked at Junmyeon, who patted his back reassuringly. “Just watch. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to.”

“You can do that, right?” Chanyeol said quietly, crossing his arms. “Because if not, then it’s totally—”

“Yeah, of course I can! Friday—shit, Friday. At what time are they supposed to be meeting up?”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows, before answering, “Around eight or nine.”

Jeno bit his lip, thinking about the promise he’d made to you. It would just have to wait, he supposed. Chanyeol rarely asked anything this big of him.

“Alright,” Jeno agreed, “I’ll do it.”

Chanyeol grinned, clapping his hands together. 

“Perfect.” 

They discussed logistics briefly after. Doyoung would be on call with Jeno, his custom made suit allowing them to communicate, letting Doyoung see everything Jeno was seeing via a video feed coming from the ultra thin lenses placed in the white eye sockets of the mask. Doyoung would then report to Junmyeon, who would report to Chanyeol, who would probably report to the FBI. Jeno was only to engage if absolutely necessary.

After that, he set out on patrol. He usually found some discreet place to hide his backpack, and then went all over Queens looking for trouble, quite literally. Around five thirty, he stopped a robbery in Murray Hill. Then, around seven, he stopped a man from stealing a woman’s purse in Elmhurst. Nothing too much.

Around eight, he finally headed home, this time dressed normally, using the train and not web fluid. He walked home, tired, knowing that he’d immediately have to do that cursed AP calc homework. When he got home, he opened his backpack pocket to look for his keys, rummaging between his notebooks and other things. 

Shuffling through his stuff, he furrowed his eyebrows as he couldn’t find them. Thinking back, he remembered this morning, when he’d left in a rush… and had very obviously left his keys on his desk.

“Shit,” He muttered to himself. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, remembering that Aunt Sunny had said she’d be working overtime tonight. He could very easily sneak in through his window, but he was pretty sure he’d locked it the night before, and it was too early. People’s lights were still on—anyone could see him if they just looked up, and then he would be screwed. 

Huffing and zipping his backpack up, he marched up to your house, before ringing the doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth, from his heels to the balls of his feet, until the door opened up. A familiar man with a face just like Doyoung's, but older, with graying hair and arms scarred and muscled from years of working on the police force stood in the doorway.

“Jeno?” Your dad offered him a warm smile. “Hey, kiddo, what’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeno said, smiling back. He shifted nervously. “I, um… I left my keys in my room this morning, and my aunt’s working late, so… could I… maybe wait here? Y/N’s home, right?” 

The man nodded. “Of course, of course. Come in!” 

Your dad had always been super friendly, even from the day Jeno had first met him. You'd told Jeno once that he was the only real father figure you'd ever had. Once everything settled after him and your mom got married, you started calling him dad altogether. And since you and Jeno were practically glued at the hip, he got along with your dad almost as well as you did.

“Okay.” Jeno stepped in and set down his backpack at the base of the coat rack next to the door, as he’d done a million times before. Jeno stepped into the living room, and sat down on the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and looked up at your dad.

"I think Y/N's in the shower, but she should be done soon. You can just wait here if you want… have you eaten anything yet?”

“Uh, I had a granola bar on the train, but that’s it.”

“We have some leftover pasta here, if you want—”

“Thanks, Mr. Kim, really! I’m fine.”

Your dad nodded, sitting down on his recliner. “So, have you started your college list, yet? Y/N said you wanted to stay here in New York.”

Jeno nodded, pushing some hair out of his face. “Well, yeah. It would make things a lot easier, I think. I might want to apply to NYU, but I think I’ll just go to community college, or something.”

Your dad shook his head. “You’re a pretty smart kid, Jeno. I think you could get into Columbia if you set out to. Plus, Chanyeol Park doesn’t give out internships to anybody. That’s your secret weapon.”

Jeno smiled. “Well, you’ve got a point.” 

Your dad gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. “Come on, trying won’t hurt!” Your dad made a face, and then rubbed his knuckles. “Have you been working out? Those muscles weren’t there the last time I did that.”

Jeno laughed, trying to think of an excuse. “Oh, a little bit? The house needed some fixing up over the summer, and I wanted to help Aunt Sunny, so…”

“Jeno?” 

He turned immediately, eyes landing on you at the base of the staircase. You’d changed into an old t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair was slightly damp. “What are you doing here?” You asked, with a curious smile.

His shoulders slumped, and he grinned sheepishly. “Terrible Tuesday strikes again. I forgot my keys.”

You grimaced. “Brutal, dude. You wanna come up?” Your eyes moved to your dad. “Or am I interrupting guy time?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jeno answered, playing along. He took a cocky tone as he rested his hands on the back of his neck. “Your dad was just telling me about how much the NYPD needs me.” 

You stifled a laugh. You dad seemed to be holding back a laugh too. "Hey, you're joking, but if you keep working out like that, and if by some impossible chance, the college thing doesn't work out… We might just be able to catch Spiderman if we finally got some brain cells on the force."

"Ugh, dad," You groaned, unaware of Jeno's gut twisting, "Not again."

"Yeah, Mr. Kim," Jeno said, scratching the back of his head, "He's not that bad."

Your dad shook his head. "Look, I don't hate the guy. In all honesty, crime rates have dropped since he started doing his thing. But he thinks he's above the law, and his methods can be a bit… unorthodox sometimes. He’s been undermining us for years and his tech is state of the art. Makes me wonder about what we should do to modernize the force."

Jeno looked downward, wondering what would happen if your dad knew the truth.

"Well, I guess we may just never find out. Jeno'd make a horrible cop. He couldn't hurt a fly if you paid him a million dollars."

But you came to the rescue as you grabbed his backpack, and soon enough he was up the stairs with you, heading into your bedroom, laughing to yourselves when you heard your dad jokingly call out, "Fifteen inch distance, you two! Door stays open!"

He sat on your desk chair while you lay on your bed, limbs splaying out. 

"So you left your keys."

Jeno groaned. "Don't remind me. I was in such a rush to leave, that I… I forgot. I'm so stupid."

You rolled your eyes, rolling over onto your stomach to look at him. "You're not stupid, Jen. You made an honest mistake because you were in a hurry." 

Standing up, you walked over to him and leaned against the desk. "Seriously, Jeno. What's gotten into you, lately? You freak out about every little thing. It's starting to worry me." 

Jeno shook his head. "I don't know," He admitted. "I think I'm just scared about how after this year, everything changes. Renjun’s headed upstate. Jaemin’s going to Boston. You want to go to LA. I think Hyuck and I are the only ones who want to stay here. I just… I don't want things to change." 

Your expression turned sad as he continued. "Everyone is expecting great things from me. You're smart, Jeno. You can get into an Ivy. Or, you have a Park internship, you'll be fine. What if I don't want things to be fine? What if I want them to just stay the same?"

You stayed silent for a few moments, trying to think of what to say. Jeno was relatively level headed for someone your age, but even he had moments of doubt and panic. It made moments like these difficult.  You sighed before grabbing him by the hand. Wordlessly, you tugged him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning your head on his shoulder. He could feel the dampness in your hair seeping slowly into his shirt.

"I guess I understand what you mean," You mumbled, trying to reason with him, "But come on. You wouldn't really want everything to stay the same. You can't tell me you want to keep getting AP calc homework. And I definitely doubt that you'd want to have your ass kicked by San for the rest of your life."

Jeno looked at the floor. "You're right. But you know that's not what I mean—"

"I know," You huffed, "I'm just saying. Change… it's inevitable. The longer you fight it, the harder it is."

Jeno nodded. "This sucks."

"It does," You agreed, taking his hand in yours. "But at least we have each other's backs, y'know?"

Something of a smile appeared on his face. You were so close to him, leaning on him, stroking his knuckles with your thumb. He hoped you couldn't hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

"We really do, huh?" His voice turned quiet, with a bit of a sleepy lull to it. He allowed his head to rest on yours. "You're so comfortable. Can I like, use you as a pillow for the rest of my life?"

You giggled. "I'll consider it on two conditions."

"Oh, you'll consider. How generous of you."

"Yes, I'll consider. Now, do you wanna hear my terms or not?" 

Jeno raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead," He said, before putting on his best Marlon Brando voice, "Make me an offer I can't refuse."

Snorting, you lifted your head off of his. "Okay. One, you finish your calculus homework here before Sunny gets home."

He pursed his lips. "Okay, I could probably do that. What's the other one?"

"Let me drive you to school for the rest of the year." 

Jeno stared at you, and you nodded, eyes wide. "Trust me, Jen. You wouldn't need to wake up so early! And plus, you can't text the guy manning the subway asking him to give you five minutes because you need to find your keys."

Jeno gnawed on the inside of his cheek. You did have a point, and to be honest, he could probably refrain from putting his feet up on your dashboard.

"Deal." 

You grinned. "Awesome," You answered, before nodding towards his backpack. "Now get to work, Einstein."

The rest of the week wasn't that bad. Yes, you were absolutely batshit insane about your truck in the morning, but he soon realized he didn't really mind. Not when it allowed you both to spend some twenty extra minutes together in the mornings, and they were spent joking around and listening to your extremely varied playlist. 

On the other hand, he was saddled with more and more homework, greater and greater expectations. The looming threat of Friday's mission rolled around, and it made Jeno feel like time was passing much too slowly but also way too quickly. There was so much on his mind. He had chemistry with you on Thursdays in the afternoon, which also meant that San was there. Which also meant that sometimes, his heightened senses would pick up on San dropping a tacky pick up line which made Jeno want to punch him in the jaw.

Finally, finally, Friday afternoon rolled around. As he bid you goodbye and promised to see you later, he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. The feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong. He went out on patrol, ready for Doyoung to set up the call and tell him where he needed to go. It didn’t help that there wasn’t a lot for him to do that day. Crime had seemed to slow down altogether. 

When the time finally came, and the sun was beginning to set, Doyoung rang in at about 7, telling him the location. An old warehouse near LaGuardia airport, hidden from prying eyes. Jeno made his way to the place, avoiding security cameras Doyoung warned him about, and found a place to hide. There was a hole in the warehouse roof, which allowed him to peer right into the building without being seen. It was about thirty feet from the ground.

“Why is it always old, abandoned warehouses?” Jeno grumbled. He heard Doyoung laugh quietly. 

“Beats me,” Doyoung sighed. 

And so they waited. Jeno wondered vaguely if you were still working. He wasn’t sure. They made time talking quietly, until a black SUV rolled into the warehouse. “Woah, Doyoung,” He murmured, “Hold up.”

Jeno leaned forward, but quickly realized he probably wouldn’t be able to hear what was being said. “D.R.E.A.M, activate Heightened Intelligence Protocol.”

Activating Heightened Intelligence Protocol.

The protocol allowed Jeno to use the lenses over his eyes to zoom in on specific targets, as well as use a microphone embedded in the suit to pick up audio from far away and feed it directly into his ears.

He watched as three figures got out of the car, a fourth remaining in the driver’s seat. The trio stood in front of the car, and Jeno recognized the man in the middle as the man Junmyeon had been talking about.

“Alright, there’s Henry Duke,” He said, “The one in the middle.”

 “Got it,” Doyoung replied, sounding satisfied. “Now all we have to do is wait for the other party.”

“Did Junmyeon’s sources say anything about who it would be?”

“No. They weren’t able to find that out. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Jeno’s eyes never left the man. “Do you think it’s something international?”

Doyoung sighed. “I’m not sure. If it is international, then you need to be even more careful.”

“Got it. I think—Wait, here they come.” 

A second vehicle, this one another black SUV, rolled up not too far away from the first car. The lights turned off and the engine sputtered to a stop, and four men stepped out of the vehicle.

Jeno’s stomach dropped, and of its own accord, his mouth let loose a quiet, “What the fuck,” as he registered the person leading them. 

“What?” Doyoung asked, before realizing what—who—he was looking at. “...Is that my dad?”

“I think it is,” Jeno whispered, fingertips suddenly numb. Who was he kidding? They both knew who it was. 

“So,” One of the men next to your dad said, “You show us yours, we’ll show you ours?”

Henry Duke clapped his hands together with an impish grin. “I suppose. Reagan, get the case.”

One of the two men standing beside him started off toward the trunk of the car. “It caught me off guard when I heard that the force wanted to purchase these. Almost made me wonder if this was your attempt at a sting operation.”

“What made you change your mind?” Your dad asked. Jeno swallowed at how cold he sounded. This wasn’t your dad, and it didn’t seem like Officer Kim either. This was someone Jeno had never met before. 

“Honestly, Kim?” Duke raised an eyebrow, shrugging. “It was you. Your cooperativeness and willing to feed us information, as well as your… insurance agreement. And besides, you made a very interesting point when you said that the Avengers Initiative and Park’s alum Spiderman is ruining the way the law operates around here. That type of bitterness… hard to fake.”

Your dad huffed. “We’re fucking tired of it.”

The man leaning against the car your dad had stepped out of scoffed. “If this helps us catch the little asshole, then so be it.”

Jeno frowned. “I’m not little—”

“Jeno, shut up!” Doyoung snapped. 

“—Alright, then.” The man holding the briefcase—Reagan—clicked it open, as if it were a prize reveal on The Price is Right. Five guns, all modified to hold glowing Chitauri stones were placed carefully together side by side.

“You know the basics. No radiation. Keep it away from security scanners and x-rays. They will blow up. And second of all, these are at half the price, along with the promise from the chief of police that my business won’t be touched, and will only be distributed to officers in on the operation and have agreed to turn off their body cameras when they decide to use these weapons. Should this not be a sting operation, we’ll be back here to negotiate.”

Jeno leaned forward, watching anxiously.

“Yes, sir,” Your dad answered, nodding. “We have the money here.”

“Hand it over, then.”

That was when Jeno made his mistake. He leaned forward too much, and proceeded to fall right through the hole, bringing down some scraps of the roof with him. As he tumbled through the air, the zoom on his lenses caused him to grow dizzy as he had no idea what he was looking at. He caught himself before he could fall, clumsily commanding D.R.E.A.M to go back to turn off the current protocol. His vision returned to normal, and he swung up onto a rafter holding the warehouse up.

“So, we have company.” Duke didn’t sound as amused as he had before. His face turned into a sneer. “Get him.”

In less than a second, before Jeno could say anything, five guns were pointed directly at him. He managed to swing away before any bullets could hit him. 

“Jeno, get out of there now,” Doyoung ordered. 

“What about the guns?” Jeno asked, swinging to another rafter. “They know I’m here, I might as well get them before I go—”

“No! Jeno, listen to what I’m telling you. You’ve done more than enough, and you need to let it g—”

Your dad aimed, and a bullet fired right at Jeno’s chest. For a second, he forgot that the chest area of the suit was lined with bulletproof material. While it didn’t shoot into his chest, it ricocheted right off him, and since he was in motion, it somehow caused the bullet to bounce back in the direction in which it came. 

The wind was knocked out of Jeno, but it was nothing compared to watching the bullet land in the middle of your father’s chest. On the other line, he heard Doyoung yell, followed by the sound of something falling. And then, as he made his way back towards the hole he’d fallen out of, he couldn’t rip his eyes away from the body as it crumpled to the ground. 

The others around him scrambled to get back into their respective cars. Jeno was back on the roof now, trying not to hyperventilate. “I’m sorry,” He gasped, “Do—Doyoung, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to—”

“Jeno, you need to get out of there, now,” Doyoung said, voice raspy. “GO!” 

So he did, and Doyoung cut off the call once he was out of the vicinity. Jeno didn’t blame him. He swung across buildings, feeling numb as he looked for the apartment complex roof where he’d decided to hide his backpack.

When he finally did, he changed in a hurry, before slumping against the wall and forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

Doyoung’s dad—your dad—was dead. And it was all his fault. 

He cried on the way down the staircase. He cried on his way to the subway. The entire time, he ignored people’s stares. Suddenly everything was too loud, and if he met someone in the eyes he’d just about break down in the middle of the station. 

As he got onto the train, Jeno thought about all of the things your dad had done for you, and for Jeno. All the times he'd taken you both to Coney Island in the summer when you were younger. The year Pokemon Go came out he took the both of you driving around in his car so you and Jeno could catch as many Pokemon as you could. 

He’d formally adopted you when you were thirteen. You were his daughter in nearly every sense of the word, regardless of blood. And now he was dead, because of a stupid mistake that Jeno had made.

What would you say if you knew? He didn’t want to know. Checking the time on his phone, he saw he’d gotten a message from you just three minutes ago.

[8:36 PM]

y/n: lemme know when ur outside!! :)

“Fuck,” He murmured, wiping his eyes. He knew he needed to stop crying before he got to your house, and he had about ten minutes before he got to his stop, and then another five minute walk to the neighborhood. He focused on taking deep breaths and taking long swigs from his water bottle in the meantime, trying to tune out the sound of other people talking and the sound of the train on the rails.

The walk was the longest five minute walk he’d ever taken. The flashing lights of convenience stores did nothing to calm him down. As the stores in his peripheral vision began transitioning into suburban homes, he felt his heart speed up again. The constant movement as he walked meant he missed his phone vibrating in his backpack as you rang his number.

After what seemed like an eternity, two familiar houses came into his line of vision, and his shoulders slumped as he spotted you on your porch, looking small and teary, curled up into a little ball. In one hand, you were clutching your phone.

His stomach twisted as he put on a confused tone, even though he knew damn well that you knew. “...Y/N?”

You stood up, running to him and burying yourself into his chest, crumpling into his arms. You would have fell over if Jeno hadn’t held both of you up. 

“Jeno,” You sobbed, “You’re n-not go-onna believe it.”

He brought a hand up to caress your hair, holding back tears of his own as he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

“Y/N, what happened?”

taglist: @decembermoonskz @itsapapisongo @lenaluvs​ @crescentjen​

[shelby-love]

KELLY SEVERIDE

Skeletons and Whatnot.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Author’s note: I feel like this is rubbish, but I also feel like it’s not. 50/50 (1.6K words - might come back to edit it tomorrow)

Also you can see how tired I am (it's 4:30AM) I mean what is this title??? GOOD NIGHT.

~

"That's not possible. Check again."

"But I already did! Like a million times!"

"Adam, I swear to God-"

"Alright, alright…" Your colleague mumbled, turning on his chair to run the data yet again.

While he sat on the chair, looking through files he didn't have a clue about, you were leaning against the wall and shaking in your boots. Your heart hammered and your palms felt clammy.

Not possible. I killed him.

"No look it says right there," Adam declared; proud of himself for being able to gather information like this on his own. "Some girl named Lucy Riggs pawned a gun she got off some guy named Jon Prescott.

You squinted your eyes at the information that made no sense. "Get to the point."

Adam visibly swallowed, "Turns out the guy's name isn't Jon. Shocker. It's actually Parker Torres."

Your blood ran cold at his words. A million thoughts raced through your head. You wondered where he was, what he was doing… The questions that evaded your mind are usually normal, but here, when you thought about the dark man of your past, the questions seemed to be anything but normal.

"What about the gun?"

Adam clicked away until a picture of a metallic gun popped out. "Smith & Wesson Model 64 revolver."

Next thing you knew, a chain of vulgar profanities escaped your mouth, and you couldn't stop them. Ruzek's eyes widened ever so slightly at your lack of composure. "Mind telling me what this all about?"

You took a deep breath. "My skeleton escaped the closet."

***

The lack of information you found within the last couple of days was mind blowing. The only lead you had was the gun that wasn't even in your possession, having gotten lost in a misfit of undocumented sales.

Lucy wasn't of help either. The poor girl just wanted to get rid of her husband's gun, saying everything but useful information along the way. "If he wants a gun, then he better get a good one… A new one too! I don't want that piece of garbage in my house. God only knows who used that gun!" Lucy told you, just 48 hours ago. Those exact same words.

She was right about one thing.

That dammed gun went through so many hands and took double more lives.

And you didn't even have a lead.

"You look like crap," Kevin Atwater teased, handing you a steaming cup of coffee.

You didn't even manage to smile, looking at him through your shades that were, so far, doing a great job at concealing the bags under your eyes from the world.

"Rough night?"

"Mhmm."

Kevin didn't know that you no longer lived with Kelly. The temporary solution to your problems turned out to be moving back to your own place. Putting Kelly in harm's way, no matter how much he thought otherwise, was something you didn't want to do. The comfort of his bed and body were replaced by a thin blanked and an uncomfortable dining chair.

Dozens of glass decorations were laid out all over your apartment. On every window still, next to every door… On every surface, really. You slept on the dining chair 5 yards from your front door with a pistol strapped to your back, a shotgun under the chair and a rifle wrapped around your two arms, acting as a teddy bear for every time you dozed off.

Friends from Interpol would call here and there, with nothing more than sad news.

Hank Voight was pulling out every contact from his little notebook, but not even they could solve your years long case.

You wanted to throw up.

"Hey Kev."

"What's up?"

"You still friends with that FBI agent?"

***

"Second floor clear," The grip on your radio loosened after the second you needed to inform your team about your situation had passed and you moved on upstairs. You could hear them respond in the same matter as you held your gun with both hands and carefully climbed up the stairs.

You didn't let a sound slip your lips as you trekked the stairs up to the very last floor, save for the attic. For a drug house, everything was eerily quiet. It didn't feel like someone left in a hasty hurry.

It felt like as though there was no one there in the first place.

Your need to report that to your Sergeant faded away quickly once you saw smoke. It seized your full attention within a few seconds.

Smoke grenade was your first guess. Nasty things but nothing new.

That was, until you took several steps closer and the smell of the source journeyed through your nostrils. It clicked in your head immediately. Three years of being a squad lieutenant's girlfriend can do that to you. The scent of fire is nauseating and sweet, putrid and steaky, or something like leather being tanned over a flame. The smell  of it can be so thick and rich that it's almost a taste. Kelly's words rung in your head, and  you pulled your radio to your mouth.

"Call CFD! There's a fire on the third floor!" You informed, shielding your eyes. "Stand down! I repeat –"

Things went black after those words.

***

"We have a detective trapped on the third floor," Voight informed the first responders. "That's where the fire started."

Wallace nodded, "Squad 3, take the third floor."

Unlike Wallace, who had found his source of information in Voight, Kelly Severide had found it in Jay, who stood on the street visibly stressed. "Jay where's Y/N?"

Jay frowned, "She went to scope ahead. She was on the third floor when the whole place just blew up…"

"She could be unconscious right now," Kelly muttered. "Squad 3 let's go!"

Kelly Severide was already in the burning building when Chief Boden found out just who was trapped upstairs. "Dammit."

***

"Y/N?!"

Kelly's patience was thinning by the second. Knowing that his time is limited and that the place could blow in a stronger matter at any moment, he paced toward your unconscious body expeditiously.

Noticing the angry streak of blood that came from your nose had his heart in his throat. You were twisted in a way not normal for a human body to be in, catching him off guard the moment he laid his eyes on you.

Despite all that, Kelly still swooped in to grasp your limp body in his arms.

The stress of the last few days he went through didn't come close to a match with this very moment. "I'm coming down chief!"

For a moment Wallace wanted to bark back, but he bit his tongue. Love makes people do crazy things.

He knew that better than anyone.

"Get the hoses ready!" Boden announced and turned to the Intelligence.

"She'll be okay."

***

You were okay.

Maybe even better than you thought possible.

"Kelly wake up."

You smiled cheekily at doctor Mannig, who stood by your hospital bed, waiting for Kelly to wake up with the same thin line of patience as you.

You woke him up with a slap to his shoulder.

Natalie was beaming, her eyes sparkled despite the fact that she was the doctor to the most heavily guarded patient in the whole city of Chicago. "I think congratulations are in order."

"What do you mean?"

She winked before handing you the tablet, "You're 11 weeks along Y/N. Congratulations you two."

You shook your head wildly and pressed a palm to your mouth, acting out what your defense mechanism wanted you to do. "Oh God…"

"Really?" Kelly asked next to you. He had already grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly, holding you to the ground of your new reality. "Are you for real?"

She nodded, "The tests don't lie. I'm so happy for you two."

Natalie hugged you both closely before disappearing back into the crowded ER.

"Hey," Kelly murmured, grasping your chin with his index finger and thumb. "What's wrong? You're not happy? I thought…"

You shook your head immediately, stopping him from saying something that was untrue. "No, Kelly… I'm really happy."

Two heartbeats within one body. Your body.

A child that was going to take after you and the man you loved most in this world…

You felt so incredibly lucky at that moment.

Yet so guilty.

"Our baby could've died today…"

Fresh onset of tears attacked your eyes, pushing through until the moisture was dripping down your face, and you tried to muffle the hiccups with your hands. Everything started to make sense.

"Baby you didn't know…" He tried to calm you.

You shook your head violently, dropping his attempts into the water. "I should've known better. We didn't use protection... Then I felt so sick last week."

"Y/N-"

"But I was so obsessed with Parker Torres that-" You couldn't even finish the sentence because the guilt turned into anger. "God I'm so stupid!"

"Babe, look at me," Kelly's voice hardened yet the hands with which he cupped your face were gentle and comforting. "You didn't know, so none of this is your fault. If you knowingly went in there that's when it would have been your fault."

He kissed your tears away and gave you the softest smile ever. "Do you want to have this baby with me? Because if you don't, we can…"

You stopped him with a kiss.

You were venerable in the moment of the kiss, yet you never felt more at home. In this kiss is the promise of years of love and the sweetness of life. No one mattered at that moment. Not Parker… Not anyone. Only you two and the vow you just shared.

The next few weeks will be hard, that much you knew. You were introduced to a new reality and priorities shifted. The hunt for your skeleton will continue in the hands of the people you trust most and as months go by the light will greet the darkness of your tunnel.

But the next few years, you see nothing but light and happiness.

No skeletons to torture your life, but a baby and a soulmate to make it better.

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[a-simple-imagine]

Perhaps In Another Life

Requested by @mionemymind​​ - ‘ Could you write a Hermione X Reader imagine where the golden trio and the reader fine the mirror or erised again? Harry explains what it does and lets Y/n and Hermione try it. Y/n goes first and lies about what she sees, because all she see is Hermione. And when Hermione goes and Y/n wanders around the room she says, "Y/n scoot away, its my turn." However shes like all way the on the other side. To add more drama, Hermione is dating Ron at the moment and only Harry and Y/n heard her’

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 2.8k+

A/N - This request was so cute and I decide to be mean about it so it may not be what was expected  

"What is all this?" The question falls past your lips as you wander down the path created by towers of discarded rubbish and misplaced treasures.

"I think this is where old or misplaced items end up," Hermione answers despite it being more of a rhetorical question. She had a habit of doing that; it could be quite bothersome sometimes but who were you to stand in the way of a know-it-all sharing their knowledge. Old and forgotten items huh? Your hand drifts over discarded items such as old books and strange machines. You spy an empty birdcage. A broken wand. How did all this stuff end up in the Room of Requirement? Magically seemed like the right answer but you'd love to know what spell collects random junk. Three companions follow behind you. The know-it-all herself, Hermione Granger. The youngest Weasley son and the one and only legend, Mr. Harry James Potter.

"Look at this," You trek ahead towards a very old and dusty mirror. The frame adorned with gold that sparkled a little in what little light there was. Across the top there were nine words you didn't understand etched into the frame. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Turning back to your friends, you offer a smile. "I found a mirror."

"The mirror of Erised," Harry murmurs as he moves before the reflective surface. "So this is where Dumbledore moved it to,"

"Erised?" What did that even mean? That's not a word. "You've seen this before?"

"Oh yeah," Ron nodded, setting his arm around your shoulders. "I remember harry dragging me out of bed in first year just to come to look at it. All excited and shouting about his family."

"I'm confused..." It was common knowledge that Harry's parents died when he was a baby.

"When was this?" Hermione interjected as she joined the three of you by the mirror

"During Christmas break, you'd gone home," Harry reveals but his eyes never leave the mirror. That would mean you would have been home too. You always miss out on finding cool magical artefacts.

"So why did Dumbledore hide it away? What's it do?"

"It shows you your deepest desire." Harry shrugs casually like that wasn't both the coolest and unpected thing to come out of his mouth all day. And here you thought it was just a pretty old mirror but now you definitely wanted a go of the deepest desire mirror. "Apparently it can drive people mad."

"Awesome," The excitement was clear in your voice as you shake Ron off. "Lets have a go,"

Shoving Harry aside without waiting for a response, you stand directly before the mirror. Staring intensely at the mirror waiting for your deepest desire to appear. There was no clear image in your mind of what would appear; there were just so many possibilities and honestly it was only logical that it'd be something you didn't even realise you wanted. "It's not worki..." your voice trails off as Hermione seemingly steps into view. Her hand slipping into yours as she interlocks your fingers. A tingling wave of warmth spilt through your body as her lips place a gentle kiss upon your cheek before her head falls to rest against your shoulder. It isn't until you hear her voice that you realise it's not real.

"So what do you see?" Your stomach sinks at the sound of her voice. Somehow it was both something you expected and feared. Hermione was your best friend. Just your best friend. There had been moments you shared where, for just a moment, you wondered what it would be like to be something more than friends but they were always pushed to the back of your mind. That's not to say you don't love having her as a friend. Swallowing back the truth, you rake your brain for a believable lie.

"Uh... I'm a professional seeker for The Montrose Magpies And I'm holding the World Cup as fans cheer my name."

"I didn't know you wanted to go pro," Ron muses as he wanders past you, patting you on the back.

"Guess so," You shrug, finally pulling your eyes away. "Still pretty cool though."

"I would like a go," Sliding out the way, you decide to explore a little more with Ron. Picking up an old leather-bound book with what looks like an engraved silver skull on the front that sits on top of a pile of other books.

"You know what any of this means?" You ask, showing Ron the tattered pages full of weird small symbols.

"Looks like... something Hermione would know," Ron chuckles, turning the page to show a weird looking creature with sharp fangs and red eyes "Definitely about demons or something."

Ron leaves you to flipping through delicate pages, that felt as if they would crumble to dust at any moment. "Y/N, scoot away. It's my turn"

With furrowed brows, you set the book carefully back down and spin around. "What are you on about?" While you weren't too far away, you couldn't be next to her from your spot. Heading back over, you and Harry share an unsure look. "I was over there," She wasn't looking but you still point over to Ron to prove your point. If she was somehow seeing you then that meant... it's hard to see in the dark but her cheeks flush with colour. "Hermione..." You resist the smile that threatens to break out across your face. "What do you see exactly?"

"We should head back before we miss curfew,"

"What happened?" Ron wonders as he rejoins the group.

"Hermione saw-"

Hermione shots you a pleading look, shaking her head a little. "I'm the head of the ministry of magic."

"We all could have guessed that," Ron chuckles. The rest of you laugh along a little awkwardly.

"We should head back," Hermione insists again and this time you all listen. The only person to speak on the way back to the common room is Ron; filling the silence with idle conversation and playful jokes about the awkwardness. Even as you retire to your respective dorm rooms, you can't bring yourself to bring up what you saw.

The following day, Hermione is gone from your shared dorm room before you even wake up. It wasn't particularly unusual for her to be up before you so you think nothing off it but it doesn't take long for you to remember the events of last night. Meeting Harry in the common room, you leave Ron to sleep and decide to go down for an early breakfast.

"Ron had the right idea this morning," You stretch your arms up high, stifling a yawn. "I could do with a few more minutes in bed,"

"You're the one who woke me up," Harry insists with a tired smile.

"How? I can't even get into your dorm room,"

"Shouting my name is a pretty good way to wake people up," Your laughter fills the corridors when you slowly spot another.

"If it isn't my favourite girl," You call out, walking a little faster to catch up. Hermione in all her morning glory, struggling to balance all the books in her hands. Seems she's been to the library this morning. "Morning Hermione,"

"You two are up early." She comments coldly. Should you bring up last night? You'd fallen back into silence almost like everyone was too scared to say anything. After a moment, you can't hold back any longer.

"So are we gonna talk about what happened yesterday?" You blurt out a little too loudly.

"Nothing happened yesterday."

Oh, Hermione Granger. She was kidding herself if she thought you were never gonna bring up the fact that you were her deepest desire. "So we're just gonna pretend you're not in love with me?"

"The mirror is wrong." Her voice is sharp and clear in the morning air. You swallow your desire to get defensive in response.

Turning sharply to harry. "I don't think mirrors can be wrong- Harry, can the mirror be wrong?"

"I don't know,"

"See Harry agrees with me."

"That's not what he said," Hermione remarks.

"That's not what I said." Harry follows up.

"But it's what you meant," you wrap an arm around Harry's shoulders pulling him closer and lay the other around Hermione. "Hermione's in love with me, the mirror said so."

"Stop it," She huffs. "You don't even know what I saw."

"Why else would you think I was next to you when I was on the other side of the room, huh? I'm your deepest desire- you love me, Hermione."

"Just drop it okay," She snaps bringing you to an abrupt stop; dragging Harry to a stop too. "It's just a stupid mirror, it doesn't mean anything." You never expected such a harsh response so you decide not to press it further at least for now. You were too tired and hungry to argue over something as silly as a mirror. Maybe the mirror could be wrong? You don't know.

Either you're going insane or Hermione was actively trying to avoid talking to you. She spends most of her time studying in the common room or at the library. And as much as you would like to spend time with her, it's not worth subjecting yourself to the library. Every conversation between the two of you was short lived.

Transfiguration class. You're sat next to Harry who Hermione insisted on swapping places with so she wouldn't have to sit next to you. A little extreme but what can you do. You actually didn't mind, Harry was a welcomed desk mate and at least he'd play hangman with you during the lecture. Hermione usually told you off for not paying attention. An amused smirk settles on your lips as you hand Harry a piece of parchment you had been scribbling on. "Can you give this to Hermione?"

"I don't think-"

"Please?" You interrupt, flashing him a pleading smile. With a roll of his eyes, he slides the paper onto the desk beside him while McGonagall was writing on the board. You keep your eyes on the girl as she unfolds the parchment; her face instantly sours. Crumpling the note, she thrusts it back over to you.

"What did it say?" Unfolding the paper, you show it to Harry. 'You love me' was scribbled across the parchment in thick black ink with little animated hearts that float to the top and exploded like fireworks before looping back. "You've got to stop teasing her."

You giggle to yourself, "but it's so fun."

"Care to share your confession of love with the class, Miss Y/L/N."

Looking up, you see Professor McGonagall staring back with her arms folded across her chest.

"It's not what you think," She holds out her hand in expectation so you hand it over. "Sorry Professor."

McGonagall crumples up the paper. "See to it, I don't catch you passing notes again."

Come lunchtime you're sat beside Ron, enjoying a bowl of pasta. "I'm just saying that it's not fair."

"You shouldn't pass notes in class," Ron chuckles.

"Okay but you give me one punishment or the other. I don't deserve detention and to lose house points."

"She did have to stop you chatting. Multiple times." Harry interjects.

"To you," you grumble, tossing your fork down. "You should have been punished too."

"Stop making excuses," Hermione pipes up for the first time since lunch had started. "If you had actually taken the lesson seriously instead of writing silly notes or playing games, maybe you wouldn't be in this mess."

All eyes fall on the surprisingly aggressive brunette for a moment. Wondering why she was so upset; leaning forward against the table you pick your fork back up.

"So after careful evaluation, I've concluded that I'm Hermione's favourite person in the entire world." You declare randomly to change the course of the conversation.

"I think that title goes to me." Ron counters, taking a sip of his drink.

"No, it's definitely me," you pop a piece of pasta into your mouth. "Right Hermione?"

"Harry is actually my favourite so stop arguing,"

"Don't drag me into this,"

"She's just lying to make you feel better, Ron," You shrug. "We all know it's me, I'm her best friend."

"I'm literally her boyfriend,"

"Believe what you want." You finish off your drink. "I'm everyone's favourite- now if you'll excuse me. I have an essay to go finish before class."

"Essay?" Ron questions? "what essay?"

"For defence against the dark arts?" You explain as you pack up your stuff. "You haven't done it have you?"

"Bloody hell, one of you could have reminded me," Ron scrambles up and the two of you leave together.

It's hard not to let your mind wander over the last few days as you stare into the darkness of your dorm room. Hermione is still very much committed to speaking to you as little as possible and you're not sure if the mirror is to blame or the relentless teasing. And even though you still see her everyday, you kind of missed her. You didn't enjoy having her be mad at you.

"Hermione?" You whisper into the night, hoping not to wake anyone else up.

"Yes?"

"Are you awake?"

"Obviously- I just answered you." She groans. Pushing yourself up, you sit with your legs crossed in the middle of your bed; looking over at Hermione. You couldn't really see anything but you could tell she was lying down.

"Can we talk?"

"It's the middle of the night,"

"Please?"

"What is it that you feel is so urgent, it cannot wait until tomorrow?" She inquiries sounding very agitated. You debate the answer for a minute or two, a weird silence settling between the two of you before you finally just blurt it out.

"I... wanted to apologise for all the teasing. While rather funny, it was very immature of me and I am very sorry about that. I shouldn't have-"

"You were right though," Hermione disrupts.

"Excuse me?"

"You were right," She repeats and you can see her shift in the darkness. "I did see you in that mirror and it... it caught me off guard."

"Okay..." you knew it. Hermione did have a thing for you but then why was she so adamant to deny it? Was the idea of liking you really that bad? You understood that it was kind of an issue regarding the fact she was dating Ron but still. "Well-"

"But it doesn't mean anything, Y/N."

You feel your heart stop. Of course, it meant something. The whole point of the mirror was to show your deepest desire; the thing you want most in the world. For harry that's the family he has never known. For Ron it's not to be overlooked because of his siblings; at least that's what you assumed from the way he described it. For Hermione, it was you in some context and for you, it was, well, Hermione. As much as you pushed those feelings down, it didn't mean they weren't there. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." Her response was quick and clear. Not even an ounce of hesitation or doubt. It hurt a little to hear.

"You don't think the mirror was truthful?" Your question comes out so quiet you're not even sure she could hear you.

"It's not that... I just..." Hermione breathed out slowly. "It's complicated."

"Then explain it to me," How complicated could it possibly be? It was a closed question. A simple yes or no would have sufficed.

"It's not that I don't trust the mirror rather that I have already made my decision. It was my choice to date Ron and I'm not willing to throw that away because of a mirror. I'm happy with Ron"

"Oh," you stare at her and wonder if she's staring back. "I get that."

"It's just a mirror," you've heard her say that a lot since that day. Was it an attempt at convincing you or herself? You lay back down, a bit deep in your stomach that you knew would keep you awake. Should you tell her? It felt only right since she was so honest with you.

"I saw you too," you admit quickly.

"What?"

"I saw you too- in the mirror I mean." You repeat but slower this time. Quieter too. "I thought you should know."

"Y/N..." It was hard to gauge exactly how Hermione was feeling when you couldn't see her voice but there was something behind her words; sadness? Pity? You couldn't be sure. But she definitely wasn't about to say exactly what you wanted to hear. "You mean the world to me, you really do. You're my best friend and I love you but-"

"I know," You intervene before she can carry on, biting back any sign of sadness. "I get it, Hermione and it's okay. I just wanted you to know is all."

"Perhaps in another life, our stories would be different," The brunette muses aloud. Lying back down in your bed; you yank the covers close to your chest as tears silently began to spill. As much as you understood where she was coming from, it didn't feel any better. It still hurt deep inside.

"Perhaps."

[trek-tracks]

what... what is threshold day?

Hoo boy.

Threshold Day is the anniversary of the airing of Threshold, one of the, if not THE, most batshit episodes of Star Trek Voyager, and Star Trek in its entirety. (Spoilers for Threshold below.)

In it, Lt. Tom Paris decides that, due to his enormous daddy issues, he will only be redeemed if he lives up to his potential by making it into the history books. In this case, it’s by breaking the transwarp barrier, which does not mean being trans and going into warp, a barrier which I’m sure was broken way before this, but going Warp 10 (in the new scale). Because apparently exploring basically a new section of the galaxy at the helm of the only Starfleet starship to be there is just garbage in terms of history-making, I guess.

So they find out there’s a 2% chance his personal brain will explode if he does this, and they’re going to let Harry Kim do it instead, but Tom is like, “no, Captain. You don’t understand. I have MASSIVE daddy issues. Also, you’d probably have to promote Harry if he succeeded, and nobody wants that.” 

And Janeway is like, “Oh shit, I really don’t want to promote Harry. Also, I have some pretty big daddy issues of my own, so I getchu; have at it. Hope your brains stay unexploded.”

So he successfully does his thing, and he’s like, EVERYWHERE AT ONCE, MAN. He sees everything. Past, present, Harry in the shower - I mean, future - in all places at once. Which is why it’s odd that he’s so surprised when he collapses in the Mess Hall after drinking one of Neelix’s truly noxious brews. He should have known how gross it was going to be. 

Anyway, the next twenty minutes or so are the EMH trying to stop Tom from turning into a weird gross scaly creature, with limited success. He stops being able to breathe oxygen. He gets super paranoid and rants a lot. He yells about pepperoni (I am not kidding). He asks for a dying kiss from Kes, which leads to a truly marvelous turn-down line: “I’m sorry, Tom. If we let down the forcefield, you’ll suffocate,” which I will now use for any unwanted come-ons. He legit DIES, then comes back to life a pretty long time later. He yells at Janeway, and then, like anyone who dares yell at Janeway would expect, his tongue literally falls out of his mouth. 

Finally, he’s getting pretty close to salamander territory, when the last 15 minutes give up on making ANY sense. He busts out of Medbay, kidnaps Janeway, goes to Warp 10 again, turns them both into complete salamanders (I guess the EMH literally did nothing to help Tom, because apparently Janeway makes it through the transformation just fine without medical attention), and then HAS LIZARD BABIES with her.

Which we know, because the Voyager crew manages to find them three days later, and in that time apparently Janeway has changed over and already had the babies. Also, they were able to find a shuttle that literally could have gone anywhere in the entire universe. Chakotay then shoots the salamanders and they take them back, leaving the babies to…I don’t know, sala-meander around or something. Why is Chakotay’s first reaction to phaser the largely-sedentary salamanders? I have no idea.

Cut immediately to the EMH having been able to just roll back their DNA or something and make them entirely human again as if nothing had happened (If this were possible, why didn’t they just Warp 10 home to Earth and then fix everyone while they evolved? It sounds like it would suck, but so would being lost for 70 years). Janeway insinuates she may have initiated the salamating. (Tom should have said salami instead of pepperoni, in salamander solidarity). They laugh off something that should require about 50 years of counseling. Tom says, “cool, I think I have slightly less daddy issues now.”

YOU KNOW WHO HAS MORE DADDY ISSUES NOW? MAYBE YOUR ABANDONED SALAMANDER BABIES.

AND NONE OF THIS IS EVER MENTIONED AGAIN. OR HAS ANY IMPACT ON THE SERIES. EVER.

And so, we commemorate this weird atrocity (which actually has some nice character development and Emmy-winning makeup, but AT WHAT COST) with a day of commiseration and celebration, largely spearheaded by @captaincrusher. Join us next year…posts are already being prepared.