#communicating with other satellites who are so far from you

[smile-files]

i don't think this quote is supposed to make me feel things yet somehow it does. thank you 17776 for putting my emotions in a food processor and setting it to "pulverize"

[pansear-doodles]

update on the ludeo thingy; in regards to the rw discord server

"Hey Pansear, i would like to inform you regarding the Rain World recent problem.

The server staff would be very opened to know more about ludeo as far as I am aware via courier bot, even tho they may unable to be in direct contact with Akupara nor it's developer, but it may help in the littlest way possible

As far as I am received from their respond, they are not aware of Ludeo being associated with Israel/zionist company and they don't support it whatsoever. They also suggest to keep awareness on other social medias until further updates regarding it

I can send the full respond iyw, tho it's really long, so this is a tldr

Sorry for drop a dm but i just want to let you know /lh"

"Hi there [redacted], This is RW Server Staff. We would like to inform you that we as a community server do not have direct affiliation with Akupara nor a say in their decisions. Obviously the issue of ludeo being a zionist company is one that's important and how staff will approach the issue will be discussed internally; no one on our team is in support of zionism, and none of us want to be associated with publishers who support it. We only have so much power in this matter - to restate once more, we don't directly affect the development of the game or have direct lines of communication with Akupara as a whole. We can't allow discussions like this in the server as its a place members come to to relax and distract themselves from personal or real-world issues; most people just want to talk about their experiences with the game or other things they're up to etc. We strongly recommend raising awareness on any other platforms you can or in satellite servers, and we treat any other sensitive/political issue the same way. Courier is the best way to inform staff about situations like this so we can come to a decision; ludeo being zionist wasn't something we were aware of beforehand and we're willing to listen through Courier. We'll be discussing how to approach this and what resources we can give out later on when more staff are available.

I cencored my name for anonymity, but this is the whole respond i got from them"

[msbarrybeeson]

Before You Go - P.6 | Future Donatello & April O’Neil Insight

(Reader Included)

A/N: Any constructive criticism is appreciated. Reader comments and feedback are also welcomed a lot. 

I have been gone for a long time. Just occupied with my studies! No fan fiction author curse or anything (yet).

Summary: You’re both adopting-parents of Casey. The story follows the perspective of Donatello and April O’Neil during the Kraang apocalypse. You and Leonardo decided to ask them to watch over thirteen-year-old Casey.

In other words, familial interactions between April, Donnie, and Casey Jr.

Reader: Gender-neutral pronouns are used, except the terms “(Mom / Dad)” are also used. Second POV.

Pairing: Rise! Future! Leonardo X Reader

Warnings: Bittersweet.

Word Count:  ~3490

Parts: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / Six / ...

~

Donnie knew how much of a genius he was.

It was no surprise after all. In his late teens, he improved NASA’s satellites to communicate with planets light centuries away. He cured breast cancer through the use of protons in radiation therapy to target specific cells, rather than affecting the harmless. Hell, he even managed to discover a new type of radioactive particles: mutons. By that point, he—.

“—should have been given a Nobel Prize in Medicine and in Chemistry.” Donnie cursed under his breath. He strolled over to his lab bench, equipping his goggles.

Squeeeak. 

April– who was found seated on Donnie’s roughed-up, spinning gaming chair– raised an eyebrow. Her hair had grown out and was left unbounded. Faint wrinkles and eye bags on her features displayed maturity, in contrast to a couple of years ago. However, everyone was well aware that time was not the only factor. 

“Whatcha going on about now, Donnie?”

The softshell huffed. “Recall when I wrote a report about my experimental findings with an invention meant to revive a deceased human being?”

“...You mean the one where you thought it was a good idea to open up Curie’s tomb? Even gone as far as to ask for my help?” April grimaced. “Who’d ever forget that.”

She proceeded to massage her temples. 

“God. You were in all kinds of messed up for that, Don.”

Lightning-like yellow sparks flickered as Donnie had his robotic hands occupied with a butane torch. His goggles were sealed tight around his eyes as he built a oval-looking device on his lab bench. Titanium outer-layer over a seriously complex circuit-board; appearing as if Samsung marketed grenades.

He scoffed. “Oh please. It wasn’t as if I’d taken long to understand how Marie Curie deserves her rest for her great contributions to radiation. Thus is why–.”

“–You decided to take a poor random husband of an old wife,” April interjected.

“Ahem.” Donnie pronounced. “The poor woman was begging me for her husband to be alive again. I was simply gracious and generous enough to not charge her for the process.” He set aside the butane torch. “At least it progressed well; he stayed alive for an additional two years. It gave his wife psychological comfort, and I was able to submit my paper to the N.S.F..” 

He picked up a screwdriver. “Except....” 

April could tell her friend’s eye was twitching. 

“They rejected my findings, nearly had me detained, and claimed it was far too ‘unethical.’” Donnie raised his volume. “Scoff! As if those researchers weren’t committing the crime themselves! Taking bodies away from families and claiming them as scientific property without permission.

If I could go back in time and shove my documents in their jaws, you bet I would.”

April smirked. “Well, I have my regrets too, Donnie.”

“You sound rather amused, April. Is that so surprising? And here I never thought you would regret your part-time job at Albearto’s. Or the fact you wasted money to switch to journalism in university.”

WHACK!

April threw her bat at Donnie’s head, flying back to her hand like a boomerang.

“Watch your mouth, mister. I may have regretted Albearto’s, but not a single moment in my life did I ever regret my journalism passion.” She stood up.

“Ouch.” The softshell vocalized, squinting his eyes toward her. His robotic clampers paused, setting aside the torch and taking off his goggles. 

“Mind yourself, April. Horse-playing is forbidden in the laboratory. I am not consenting to having yet another silver-titanium apparatus get scratched because of you.” Donnie gritted his teeth. “Can you hear the negative connotation?”

“Seriously, Donnie? Where’d that come from? Not only was that years ago but it ain’t anything except a simple accident.” 

“‘Simple accident?’” the softshell repeated with dramatic offense. “An accident, like many others in science labs, which could have caused severe damage! Remember the incident when your teacher dumped bleach and vinegar into the trash bin?

You know, if you had paid any attention in your chemistry class, those two would make mustard gas?” Donnie side-eyed his friend. “Simple accidents can have serious consequences, O’Neil.”

A hand crept up the lab bench.

“Uh-huh, and I’m supposed to believe an instance of me knocking over your phone and books would kill somebody?” April crossed her arms. “If anything, the blame’s yours for not organizing your desk when you got drunk on coffee.”

The hand took ahold of the butane torch.

“Donatello? Disorganized? Sounds cheap coming from you, a student majoring in Journalism.”

April pulled up her coat’s sleeves. “Oh boy, you’re about to get it—.”

Squeeeak!

Heads spun and found a 13-year old boy, replacing April’s spot on Donnie’s chair. Casey eyed the torch with a great yet concerning amount of curiosity.

“Yo, what’s this for, Uncle Don?”

At lightning speed, while April ran to move the gaming chair away further from the workbench, Donnie snatched the tool from his hands. “Child. Casey. Young man.” The softshell heaved loudly. “I must inform you this is NOT meant to be handled with such casual ease. How in Hawking did you even—.”

“Don’t your lab have a passcode or something?” 

“–Is what I am wondering myself, O’Neil. I refuse to believe this child remembers the beginning thirty numbers of π–.”

“Nope, only us.” April and Donnie lifted their gazes to his lab entrance. You leaned on the frame while a dear red-eared slider stood just behind. A couple of steps inside, and the metallic lab door shut close. 

Donnie– strangely– was quick to hide his device-in-progress off to the side.

“You’re back!” April grinned. “Hell, you would not believe the convo Donnie and I were having a minute ago.” She hurried to hug you.

“Figures,” Leo remarked. “We could practically hear you yards off.”

“Sounds like things never get old.” You smiled.

There was a side-eye between Donnie and April, before the Commander proceeded to inquire, coughing: “Anyhow.. care to explain the occasion? You two don’t seem to be in a hurry.”

“The only times you ever visit my laboratory are to prepare for immediate combat engagement, and you look awfully collected.” The softshell furrowed his brows.

“No, no.” You waved your hands, shaking your head. “Thank God no. We came here to ask if you two could take care of our Casey here while we head out.” The other turtle scrunched his in-quote eyebrows. “You— You came here to request us to... babysit him?”

April jabbed him in his plastron.

“You see? Just like I said.” Leo turned to you. “I know my brother, love. Don’s not the kind of guy to take responsibility for a kid. Or anyone, really.”

“Hold on.” Donnie narrowed his eyes. “I never said I refused, Leo.”

“Don’t know, it sounds like it to me.”

“Well, my misinformed brother, contrary to your belief, I am perfectly capable of handling a child.”

You huffed with amusement. Your husband only winked back.

“If you say so, Don.”

“Where are you two heading off for if you needed us to watch over him?” April inquired. “Wondering, ‘cause this never happened even when you two leave for patrol.”

“Just finding some time for ourselves.”

April exclaimed, “As in a honeymoon? Why not just say so? We’ll leave you two alone–.”

“–In this economy and climate?” Donnie interjected. “Has it also not been six years since your yet-to-be-legal marriage?”

“Alright, alright,” Leonardo chuckled. “Cut us some slack, bro. Finding time wasn’t easy when there’s Kraang above our necks.”

“Right, and you’re going on a honeymoon, how?” The softshell crossed his arms. “Simply because you’re the leader does not equate to you making wise decisions, Leo.”

“His ōdachi can teleport anyone to anyplace, we have some hope we can easily teleport to a remote area,” you answered. “One without Kraang infestation. It’ll be hard, but we may as well try.”

“Bonus points if we find clear skies and an ocean.” The red-eared turtle grinned, wrapping his arm over your shoulders.

“What’s a honeymoon, (Mom / Dad)?”

Your hand went to caress Casey’s cheek. “Parent quality time. It just means you get to handle yourself like the responsible grown-up you’ll become one day. Just promise me you’ll be on your best behavior around Uncle Don and Auntie April?”

“I promise, (Mom / Dad)!”

“Good boy,” Leo laughed, ruffling the kid’s hair.

“You didn’t ask Mikey and Raph to help out too, or?”

“Between you and me, I think you guys are better of making sure Casey doesn’t get into any chaos,” you whispered to April. “Don’t tell them that, though.”

She laughed. “Okay, I see how it is. You both have fun.” 

Donnie bit his lip. Right as Leonardo and (Name) turn to exit the laboratory, he extended his arm out to them.

“Leo, (Name).”

You two faced back to him once more.

“Don’t kill yourselves out there.”

Everyone’s eyes widened– April, you, and Leonardo himself. But the brother in blue snickered, holding a smile that reached his eyes. “So you do also care for me, Don. And all this time I thought you were plotting to put me in my grave or something.”

“We won’t.” Leo placed a hand on your shoulder. “You got my word.”

“Bye (Mom / Dad)! Bye Papa!”

“We’ll be back soon, Casey!”

Donnie stood in silence as you finally left, leaving himself with none other than his best friend and his nephew. “I refuse to believe this is the future we have to deal with.”

“Times changed all of us, didn’t they?” April spoke. “One day we wish each other a good one, and the next, we hope we just don’t die. I could’ve been a famous news anchor by now, make my mother happy, fight crime without worrying about dying the next second.

..I wonder if there’s anyone else out there besides the small number of us down here.”

“..I doubt it.”

Donnie pulled himself together and walked back to his workbench, operating his clampers to work once again. He put on his goggles. Casey, being a young teenager of enthusiasm, peeked over.

“Watch yourself, boy,” April warned.

“Don’t worry about me, Auntie. I’m only standing over here.” Casey narrowed his eyes upon the glowing and metal-like ball his uncle had his tools on. “What are you working on, Uncle Don?”

“A sphere.”

“A sphere?”

“You heard correctly.”

“That sounds kind of boring.”

Donnie had to hold himself back from remarking with: ‘That is exactly what every child whose intellect is doomed would say.’

“I’m sure your mother would find it rather moving.”

“(Mom / Dad)? I don’t understand what’s emotional about a ball, though.”

“Hey Casey.” April coughed. “Why not tell us about your mask here? Haven’t taken a good look at it before. Maybe Uncle Don would like to hear it too.”

“You actually want me to talk about my mask?”

“Ain’t a problem, is it?”

“No.” He fidgeted with his fingers a bit. “You don’t have anything else to do?”

“We were just told to watch over you, kid.”

“Yeah, but everyone I know is always busy with the Kraang or supplying weapons. I never really get chances to hang out.”

There was a brief pause in the butane torch’s flame.

April’s expression softened. Her hand came up to brush his black hair. “Things have gotten calmer up there. So you’ve got plenty of time with us now.”

Casey smiled.

“So your mask?” 

The boy alternated between covering his face and removing it. “(Mom / Dad) gave it to me. She told me it is based on the one worn by my biological mother. (Mom / Dad) also said that my birth mother was kind of crazy-funny and likes to be loud. She would have a stick to play– what was it– hockey?

I don’t know what kind of game hockey is supposed to be, but I guess it’s nice to know how life was like before all the Kraang.”

A sad smile crept on April’s lips. 

“Anyways, I thought the mask looked kind of plain, so I decided to draw red marks on it. See?” Casey showed his mask off, fingers tapping the surface. “Guess who it looks like!”

There were two bold and thick streaks of red. Each one ran through one eye, truly a defining characteristic. The Commander chuckled, already imagining how much pride her friend in blue would feel from the fact a kid– let alone one he had been parenting– looked up to him so much.

“You know, I am seeing someone familiar here.” April hummed as she put on a thoughtful facade. Fingers holding her chin and everything. “Got to be Uncle Don.”

Named turtle paused for a moment and raised a brow.

“Seriously, Auntie April?” On the other hand, Casey gave her an incredulous look and shook his head. “You probably want to get your eyes checked out, ‘cause Uncle Don doesn’t have any red stripes.” Off to the side. “And even if he did, he won’t look as cool as Dad.”

April snickered behind her palm as Donnie eyed the boy from behind his goggles.

“You’re right, you’re right. Just messing with you, kid.” Her hand ruffled his hair once more. “Sounds like you really admire your Papa, don’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Dad has an awesome sword that opens up portals. He always moves so quickly whenever he’s fighting. Bam! And the Kraang’s gone!” The teenager stretched his arm for emphasis. “Even as the leader, Papa knows when to get serious and when to make people laugh. He also cares a lot about me, (Mom / Dad), you guys, and everyone!”

It made even Donnie himself smile. 

However, the way Casey’s enthusiasm died down had not gone unnoticed. “I’ve always wanted to help out though.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. “I want to fight the Kraang right by his and (Mom / Dad)’s side. Except I barely get the chance to, because they keep telling me to stay close to base and hide behind a giant rock.”

April crossed her arms and went quiet. His feelings were nothing new. In fact, she experienced the same thing herself, seeing she had always been a human. It was like that until–.

“Have no hard feelings,” Donnie spoke up, his hands and eyes remained on his spheric gadget. The sparks were flying. “Your parents are merely worried about your well-being.”

“I know, I know. They won’t have to though, if I can have enough training or something.” Casey sighed. “Then again, I also know I’m only a normal sensitive human.

...Why can’t I be a mutant instead?”

“Ahem. You are classified as a human. That is a true statement and one you cannot change.” Donnie hummed. “However, that does not mean you cannot be strong and capable in other ways.”

“Why does it sound like you’ve been in my place before?”

“Perhaps I did. Did you truly think being a soft-shell turtle is easy? I happened to be born as one of the only Testudines species whose outer shell cannot protect.” Donnie remarked. “Casey, your mask.” His hand signaled.

“What about my mask?”

“I merely want to add something.”

Confused, he hopped off the chair and handed the mask over. “Hmm. As long as you don’t mess with the stripes, Uncle Don.”

“Who says I won’t?”

Casey kicked Donnie’s leg.

“‘Ow,’ I say sarcastically without feeling physical pain.”

“Hmph.” He crossed his arms. “Why do you keep saying things like that?”

“Such as?”

“You say those action verbs, even when you’re already doing them.”

April snorted. “Just his thing, kid. Uncle Don’s got his special quirks.”

“Do you have a quirk?”

“Picking unnecessary fights for one,” Donnie commented.

“You only call them ‘unnecessary,’ because you never want to fix the problem.”

He rolled his eyes. “My solution would’ve been ten times more efficient if you had allowed my technology and I to do the work.”

Casey wondered. “Does your tech ever go haywire, Uncle Don?”

“No.”

“Oh man,” April began, “you should’ve been there for this one time. Your Uncle Don was building some kind of overprotective bed to keep your late Gramps from waking up from his beauty sleep.”

“Gramps likes to sleep?”

“You’d be surprised to hear that he sure does.”

“Then what happened?”

“Uncle Don asked your Dad, Uncle Mikey, and Uncle Raph to try punching, slicing, throwing whatever they could on the bed. They were attacking it like crazy!”

“And then?” 

“And the bed was even more insane, ‘cause there were actual missiles shooting out! They went straight for his brothers. At some point, it got overboard, so Uncle Don tried to command it to stop.”

“I’m hearing a ‘but’ coming.”

“But it malfunctioned and thought Uncle Don was the enemy!”

“However!” Donnie pointed his finger up, interrupting the story-telling. “It did not take long for my creation to recognize his master.”

“Still went haywire in my book,” April remarked. 

“Ignoring that.” His robotic hand tapped the edge of his workbench, grabbing Casey’s attention. “Come here, young man.” He slid back the mask, except in his hands, it felt as if the frame had thicken.

“It looks the same, but it doesn’t feel the same?”

“Try wearing it over your face.”

The boy did as told. All of a sudden, a bunch of green rectangles and words appeared in his vision. He gasped in awe. He spun around slowly, watching the rectangle focus on a figure through the wall.

“Yes yes, I know. I am well aware of how amazing I am.” Donnie huffed in pride. “I have opted to construct an interface with your mask. I cannot see why you shouldn’t have something to defend yourself with,” he reasoned. “I have other updates in mind later on. As of now, however, your mask will help you detect life forms across other rooms or through other objects.” 

“That’s so cool!” The boy hesitated though. “But I don’t want to break it or anything.”

“Hey.” April rested her hand on Casey’s shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. “Our resources are already scarce. Using then losing them is better than nothing. You better make the most of our tech. Understood, soldier?”

Casey grinned underneath his mask. He fixed his posture up and saluted. “Gotcha–! Understood, Commander!” 

He faced the inventor, whose hands were already back to being occupied with the “sphere.” “Thanks so much, Uncle Don!” Casey exclaimed, leaping towards the turtle to give a tight hug. “You’re the best!” 

Upon contact, Donnie stiffened up, but his lack of experience with physical touch did not prevent a smile forming on his face. He extended a robotic arm, patting Casey’s back. 

The boy then scanned around curiously with his mask. “Hey! Think I spot Uncle Mikey and Uncle Raph two floors down! They’re holding hands over a table or something. Why are so many people circling around them?”

April rolled her eyes. “Sounds like another arm-wrestling match between the our youngest and oldest brother.” 

Just like that, Casey booked it out of the laboratory so quickly, it reminded her of a certain red-eared slider. “What the–! Casey!” April groaned. “And here I thought we don’t have to deal with runaway kids. I better catch up to him.” 

“Would not worry about him too much,” Donnie commented. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Considering we will not always be alive to protect him... the sooner we leave him to himself, the easier it will be for him to survive alone.” 

“Hey. Come on now.” April walked to her best friend’s side. “Don’t you say things like that. We’re all going to survive this together–.”

“April.” Slight pain wavered in his voice. “You know as well as I do how our current reality is. It is only a matter of time before the Kraang finds everyone.” 

“Yet you’re still here trying.”

No response.

“It’s all because of the kid, isn’t it?” April affirmed. “He ain’t any genius prodigy you were expecting long ago. But he gave you a reason to try– he became someone worth fighting for.”

“I would not put it as simply as that.”

She shrugged. “That’s how I’d say it. You know you’re not the only one whose life changed because of Casey.”

Donnie paused his work, turning off the butane torch and finally pulling his goggles off his eyes again. “...Casey reminds me of when we were young, being rash and immature teenagers like any other. I hate admitting to such thing, but I was one too. And I hate admitting much more how much I missed those times.

The child has known nothing of the trouble we’ve experienced outside, April: when Cassandra was killed, when Draxum was torn apart, when Dad decided to sacrifice himself despite the slim odds.” His hands clenched into fists.

“Do not expect me to have any false hope for our future, but do not assume I would want Casey to feel the same way. For as long as he can, I want him to hold onto that false hope.”

“...” April had her arms crossed. Her eyes slowly came to linger on the workbench. “Is that ‘sphere’ his false hope?”

“..No. Not his.” Donnie traced his thumb over his contraption. “It’s for (Name).”

[alectoperdita]

Heeyyy there, can you do 36, 30 or 7 from the ask game???? Joukai of course. Thank uouuuuu!!!

From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game

36. Avalanche/huddle for warmth & 30. Only one bed

Ahhhhhh! Sorry this one took so long. It's longer than usual, though, so I hope that makes up for the wait. Thanks for your patience. ;;;_;;;

tags: hurt/comfort, minor injury word count: 3,265 words

---

Skiing was stupid. People who skied were even dumber.

Case in point, rich, arrogant good-for-nothing assholes skied.

Kaiba skied.

Jounouchi's argument was ironclad. Unassailable even.

"Watch it, you oaf," a voice colder than the biting wind howling around them snapped in his numb ear.

"I should leave you to become a popsicle," he grumbled, firming his stance in the soft, powdery snow and readjusting his grip on Kaiba, careful not to jostle the other man and set off another tirade of complaints.

"I could say the same."

The fingers burrowed under the fold of Jounouchi's scarf bit into the nape of his neck. Hard to tell if it was because of an involuntary reaction to pain or a deliberate warning. Either way, it and Kaiba's words took the wind right out of Jounouchi's sails.

Yeah, skiing might be stupid, but it was even dumber to attempt a slope above his novice ability only to get lost off the trail. Especially as a winter storm brewed. But he couldn't stand how effortlessly Kaiba made everything appear, so suave and eye-catching in his ski gear. Or how he turned up his nose at Jounouchi.

It inspired a familiar feeling, one that drove him to act recklessly.

So it was Jounouchi's rotten luck that Kaiba, as the most experienced skier in the group, ultimately tracked him down. Kaiba predictably berated him for his idiocy, Jounouchi snapped back, and they fought. And then, in a begrudging attempt to extract Jounouchi from a ditch, the man fell and busted his leg instead.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he studied Kaiba's beet-red face. Kaiba wore his ski goggles atop his head like a hairband, pulling back his bangs and exposing his forehead. So it wasn't hard to spot the pained grimace wrinkling his brow. Flurries clung to his long lashes, no matter how often he tried to blink them away. He was sweating buckets despite the frigid temperature.

Jounouchi sympathized with that. Underneath his thick winter coat, his own clothing stuck uncomfortably to his skin. He'd kill to be back at the lodge and enjoying a hot shower.

"We need to get out of the open," Kaiba declared.

Jounouchi swept a critical eye across the windswept landscape. There were trees and snow as far as he could see, but his range was limited. Visibility plummeted as the storm intensified.

"Can't you, like, call for help? Doncha have a satellite uplink on you all the damn time?" asked Jounouchi.

"Atmospheric conditions affect satellite communication," Kaiba sneered, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

It probably was to a guy like him. Jounouchi merely rolled his eyes and focused on their terrestrial concern, repeatedly putting one foot in front of the other to make the most painstaking progress. It was the only way they'd get out of this if they couldn't count on rescue incoming.

"Who would've guessed you had such dainty ankles?" he said, then winced when it sounded like a shout as the howling wind died down at that precise moment.

"Excuse me," hissed Kaiba, tightening his grip. Ouch, ouch, he was definitely squeezing his neck on purpose.

Jounouchi had already dug his hole, so whatever. "I think you need more calcium in your diet, dude. Ya twisted that ankle like nothing. If you're not careful, you're gonna start breaking your hip like 'em little old ladies."

"First of all, it's not a fractured ankle, it's a fractured tibia. Second, my calcium intake is fine. Better than yours, given the trash I've seen you shovel into your mouth. And third, I'm taller, which means I have a higher center of gravity, which affects..."

Jounouchi tuned out the rest of the rant. He could feel the nervous energy flowing from Kaiba to him. As long as Kaiba kept running his mouth, it meant he stayed awake and alert. It meant he kept working with Jounouchi to cross the increasingly treacherous and snow-blind slope.

A stark shiver wracked their bodies. Jounouchi paused to assess his companion again.

Kaiba's teeth chattered. Sweat blanketed his forehead. Neither were good signs.

"You okay? Cold? In pain?" he asked softly.

"Yes," was Kaiba's reply. Which was as clear and helpful as mud.

Jounouchi sighed and urged them onward. He could only guide them toward what he hoped was the downward direction and pray that they stumbled back onto the trail.

After limping for what felt like hours, their footsteps dragged heavier and heavier behind them as snowfall and fatigue weighed them down in equal parts. That was when Jounouchi spotted what he prayed wasn't a mirage beyond a thicket of trees.

Slanted rooftop, horizontal wooden slats, the glint of glass windows—a cabin!

Giddy from the sudden shot of adrenaline, he nudged Kaiba. "Hey, hey. There's a cabin up ahead!"

Kaiba blinked blearily. He'd grown strangely quiet during the recent stretch. Now, he squinted, scrutinizing the building in the distance, perhaps wondering like Jounouchi if it was real.

The decision made itself.

"Let's go. You know what? I'm gonna carry you on my back. It'll be faster." Jounouchi was already carefully lowering Kaiba onto the snow-blanketed ground while keeping the weight off his injured ankle.

"No," Kaiba snapped. He clung to Jounouchi's biceps.

"It'll be fine, ya stubborn bastard. I swear I'll never tell another living soul so your damn pride can stay intact. I dunno about you, but I wanna get out of the cold ASAP."

"And if you drop me? Or you break your ankles next? What then?" challenged Kaiba. There was an increasingly frantic light shining in his eyes.

"Trust me. I don't wanna die out here any more than you do!"

For several terrifying beats, Kaiba stared at him. His claws were locked in rictus, threatening to rip into Jounouchi's padded winter jacket.

"C'mon, we're both freezing our butts off."

Jounouchi didn't know what convinced Kaiba in the end. Maybe the poor bastard was too wrung out to pick a fight.

"You drop me and it'll be the last thing you ever do." The threat lacked teeth, though.

Kaiba's hands trembled as they released Jounouchi's sleeve. They shook when they planted themselves on Jounouchi's shoulders. Kaiba was heavier than anticipated. Turns out there was meat on those bones after all. But it was a weight Jounouchi could shoulder.

The strangest sensation by far was the hot and heavy feeling of Kaiba breathing down his neck. Yet it was a soothing reminder that Kaiba was alive. Jounouchi huffed and puffed the final stretch to the tiny cabin, but he never dropped Kaiba.

Once they climbed onto the raised porch, Jounouchi deposited him against the railing and shook the accumulated snow from his gear. Eyes drilled into his back as he pulled off his beanie and brushed his hair clean.

The dog comparison he was certain was incoming never materialized, though. Kaiba must really be tired.

Hobbling on his feet, Kaiba's gaze stayed fixed on the door. "How do you propose we get inside?"

"Uh... Key under the mat?"

Kaiba leveled a disgusted look at him. He banged twice on the door with his fist. "Hello? Can anyone hear me?"

Right. Also, wouldn't hurt to check if there were already people inside. Preferably someone who could help them and wasn't going to hunt them across the mountainside for sport. He blamed Bakura for that last thought.

Leaning close, Jounouchi peered into the window, straining to see through the gap between the curtains. It was dark inside. There was no movement. No one was home. That made sense. The ski racks out front stood barren.

They'd long abandoned their equipment, too. No point in dragging extra weight along when Kaiba was already injured.

"Stay here. I'll check around back," ordered Jounouchi before hopping off the porch.

He circled the perimeter. It hardly took any time. To call it a cabin was probably generous to someone like Kaiba. But it looked sturdy, and it offered shelter from the storm. As he passed one window on the side, he noticed a small sign in it that read "Ski Patrol."

He jogged back to Kaiba. "Cabin belongs to ski patrol. There might even be a phone inside!"

Kaiba turned and greeted him with a key ring dangling from his index finger.

"Where'd you find those?"

"Hideaway inside a fake rock." Kaiba gestured to a pile sitting in the porch's corner.

Jounouchi laughed. "So I was right. That's basically under the mat. God, I hope they're the spares to this place."

He was glad they didn't have to go with his backup plan of busting through a window.

Braced against the doorframe, Kaiba went through two keys on the ring before he unlocked the door. Jounouchi whooped in celebration. Then, he moved forward to shoulder Kaiba's weight and usher them inside.

To Jounouchi's relief, the cabin came equipped with indoor plumbing and even a gas stove in the open kitchen out in the main room. There was a small round table and several chairs, but nowhere to lie down. But in another interior room, he found a bed.

One cramped twin-sized bed squeezed between the wall and a narrow nightstand. There wasn't room for much else.

He went back to the main room to report his findings. Kaiba sat at the dining table where Jounouchi left him, but he had his injured leg propped up on a second chair, ski boot and all.

"Phone's down," Kaiba grunted. "There's electricity, but there's no telling how long the generator will hold up. It's best if we don't use it until we must."

Jounouchi groaned. Guess it was too much to hope for. "Cool, well, there's only one bed."

Kaiba stared at him, unblinking for long lengths. Yeesh, did the bastard really think he was going to fight an injured person for the sole bed?

He approached the table. "You should take it. You're the one with the busted ankle. Want me to carry ya, princess?"

Laughing, he barely dodged the ski goggles Kaiba flung at his head. Somehow, that restored the equilibrium between them.

"Make yourself useful and find a first aid kit," barked Kaiba.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Inside a kitchenette cabinet, he located a red bag with a white cross.

"Found it!"

A soft swear answered him from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and watched as Kaiba hunched over his elevated foot, struggling with his bootstraps. Jounouchi heaved a sigh, and on his way back to the table, he grabbed an afghan blanket folded on a shelf. He deposited the first aid kit on the tabletop and the blanket onto Kaiba's head, where his hair turned damp from the melting snow.

Kaiba cursed, louder this time, his limbs flailing under the blanket. Jounouchi kneeled down next to him, shed his gloves, and started working the snaps open. Above him came a snarl. He peered up just in time to see the outrage on Kaiba's face melt into shock after he ripped the wool away. Fighting a sudden wave of self-consciousness, Jounouchi lowered his gaze and kept going. His fingers, slowly warming, fumbled briefly on the next catch.

He waited for Kaiba to say something. Anything. Bark an order. Throw an insult. But Kaiba had gone deadly quiet, howling in his silence. The behavior was so strange Jounouchi wondered if Kaiba also hit his head when he fell.

Either way, Jounouchi felt the other man's stare drill through the top of his head.

Next came the hard part: getting the boot off without further agitating Kaiba's injury.

Again, his eyes flicked up to Kaiba's face, where he noted the almost contemplative expression that now dominated its planes. "Ya ready for this?"

Kaiba squared his shoulders, then nodded.

Yet afterward, the man's forehead was drenched with sweat, his face stripped of all color. Jounouchi went straight to the first aid kit and fished out the painkillers. With trembling hands, Kaiba snapped up the packet, tore it open, and swallowed two pills before Jounouchi could ask if he wanted a glass of water.

Figures Kaiba was the kind of freak that could swallow pills dry.

As Kaiba slumped forward and placed his head down atop the table, Jounouchi helped him out of the other ski boot as well. He set the footwear, both emblazoned with fancy KC logos, aside.

"Thank you."

The words stunned Jounouchi. His head whipped up, and he gawked at Kaiba. He couldn't see Kaiba's face, but the tips of his ears blazed bright red.

After several seconds of awkward silence, Jounouchi replied, "That should be my line. You're the one that found me after I got my dumbass self lost. So thanks for coming to get me."

To his surprise, Kaiba didn't lift his head. His bangs smeared across the tabletop as he nodded, though.

"And sorry you got hurt because of that," Jounouchi added quietly. His eyes darted back to Kaiba's elevated leg, but the thick pants made it impossible to gauge the severity of his condition. "How bad do you think it is?"

The table muffled Kaiba's reply. "Are there scissors in that kit?"

"Yeah."

"Cut the pant leg up to the knee."

Knowing that the alternative was somehow peeling Kaiba out of said pants, Jounouchi obeyed without complaint. He worked carefully, though, not wanting to cut Kaiba. A gigantic bruise sat halfway up to Kaiba's knee, right around where his ski boot ended. The entire area was swollen, but there was no sign of blood.

"No bone pushing through the skin, so that's a good sign." Kaiba said, suddenly right next to Jounouchi's ear. His warm breath puffed over Jounouchi's cheek.

Jounouchi jerked back, grabbing the chair's back to steady himself.

Thankfully, Kaiba was too preoccupied with examining his leg to notice his overreaction. "I should splint it."

Jounouchi jumped to his feet. "Splint, yeah, makes sense. Ya need a stick or something, right? I'll look for one."

As luck would have it, he dug up segments of PVC pipes already cut in half. Kaiba also appeared pleased when he presented them, kindling a warm glow within Jounouchi's ribcage.

"Can I help with anything else?" he asked, despite not knowing how to make a splint.

Kaiba hesitated before replying, "I have it handled. But I'll let you know if I need anything."

Jounouchi nodded automatically. He bounced between one foot and the other as Kaiba worked. But when Kaiba peered up at him for a second, something inside him snapped. He spun on his heels before declaring, "I saw a firewood shed out back. Gonna see if I can get a fire going for us."

Without waiting for a response, he fled the small cabin. The cold hit him in the face like a slap. It was invigorating. Got his blood pumping in a good way.

It wasn't until he dropped several split logs that he realized he'd left his gloves inside. Instead of going to retrieve them, he sank to his knees and cupped his numb hands to his mouth, blowing hot air over him. He couldn't say how long he stayed like that before the chill finally drove him back into the cabin.

Kaiba barely acknowledged him when he returned. That made Jounouchi feel simultaneously better and worse. The bastard hadn't even waited for Jounouchi to return before he somehow hobbled his way over to the loveseat close to the fireplace.

He focused on the fireplace instead.

Once the fire got going, the temperature inside warmed considerably. Unsurprisingly, Kaiba had to be bullied out of his outerwear before he could be swathed with blankets over his shoulders and his newly splinted leg.

Save for the seldom pop and crackle of the fire, it was silent.

Kaiba glared at his smartphone, occasionally adjusting its position as if that would catch a stray signal bar. Jounouchi also checked his phone, but he was sure his coverage was shit compared to Kaiba's.

Jounouchi also hung up his jacket to dry and shed his ski boots by the door. He didn't hesitate snatching the quilt off the bed in the other room, huddling under it while standing next to the fire.

"You stand any closer and you'll catch fire," came a dry quip from behind him.

He turned to face Kaiba and found the man with his phone facedown on his lap while squeezing the bridge of his nose. He lay lengthwise along the too-small loveseat with his legs elevated on the armrest and his sock-clad toes peeking out from under a blanket.

Despite that, Kaiba looked cozy? Shit, Jounouchi felt a bit insane even thinking about that. But Kaiba appeared comfy. His sharp angles and harsh lines blunted under woolen curves.

Disarmed. Soft. Jounouchi had never seen him that way before.

"What?" snapped Kaiba, jerking Jounouchi from his hazy thoughts. When he shivered, though, the entire fabric mass shook with him.

"Still cold?" Jounouchi asked as he padded closer.

Kaiba dropped his gaze to his pale hands clasped on his lap. "Nothing to be alarmed about. I've always had circulation issues."

Jounouchi laughed. "Cuz you're a skinny beanpole."

Kaiba glared, but he didn't argue.

Another insane thought crossed Jounouchi's mind. One he shouldn't dare entertain, but being cold probably wasn't good for Kaiba's leg in his current state. He had already dedicated himself to Kaiba's well-being to this point. Might as well ensure neither of them became popsicles before Kaiba could get proper medical attention.

"Alright, budge up."

Kaiba should hurry. Before Jounouchi lost his nerves.

"Excuse me."

"Ya heard me. Make room. We're gonna share body heat."

"Why?" Kaiba's voice rose an octave. He gave Jounouchi a frantic once-over from head to toe.

"So we don't freeze, duh."

Kaiba looked at him as if he was insane.

Jounouchi felt insane.

"Look, you're still cold, and I'm not giving you this blanket too. It's the last one," he argued.

For a moment, Kaiba looked as if he might eject Jounouchi from the cabin entirely, busted leg be damned. But then a miracle happened. Kaiba, after lowering his gaze, scooted forward, leaving space for Jounouchi to join him on the furniture. With his heart in his throat, Jounouchi squeezed in, carefully wiggling until he bracketed Kaiba's tense form with his legs. Without asking, because he was positive the answer would be no, Jounouchi pulled the other man's back flush to his chest.

Kaiba stiffened. He froze as if he had been left outside in sub-zero temperatures. That gave Jounouchi an opening to slip an arm around Kaiba's waist, but he left the limb atop a layer of quilt.

From this angle, he could only make out the back of Kaiba's head and the tip of his flaming ears.

Kaiba remained strangely mute. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest signaled his consciousness. Another shudder wracked through his body, and Jounouchi could feel it, from the hissing inhale to the tensing of back muscles to the exhale and shoulder slumping under the woolen weight.

Kaiba stopped shivering afterward, though. So that counted as a success, right?

"Don't worry, I don't mind sharing the bed with you if you want a space heater there too," Jounouchi joked. A hard lump formed in his throat, and he fought the urge to tighten his arms.

In response, Kaiba elbowed him in the stomach. But it was a light touch for him.

Jounouchi wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was content to remain here. Just the two of them huddled under blankets until the storm finally passed. And when Kaiba leaned back against him, he gave the impression he didn't mind either.

Read other prompt fill ficlets here

[catdotjpeg]

On February 2nd, the Associated Press analyzed satellite imagery which showed “new demolition along a 1-kilometer-wide path on the Gaza Strip’s border with Israel.” The images, which revealed the recent destruction of Palestinian farmland, warehouses and other buildings, suggested that Israel had started creating what it has called a “buffer zone” in areas of Gaza adjoining the Israeli border, a project that Israeli leaders have been trying to pursue as part of their invasion of Gaza following Hamas’s October 7th attack. Israeli officials claim that such a step is necessary to allow residents of communities in the south of Israel to return to their homes without fear of another attack. “[All along] the Gaza Strip . . . we will have a margin. And they will not be able to get in,” Avi Dichter, Israel’s agriculture minister, told reporters on October 19th. “It will be a fire zone. And no matter who you are, you will never be able to come close to the Israeli border.”

For months, United States and European officials have repeatedly voiced opposition to the idea of Israel’s permanent militarized border zone within Gaza, with Secretary of State Antony Blinken saying in November that there should be “no forcible displacement of Palestinians from Gaza” and “no reduction in the territory of Gaza”—both outcomes that would likely result from such a zone. But the AP’s analysis, coupled with other recent events, indicate that Israel is forging ahead with creating its “fire zone” despite such objections. Indeed, on January 23rd, Israeli soldiers in Gaza were actively laying mines in and around two buildings in central Gaza close to the border with Israel, intending to destroy them, when a grenade fired by a Palestinian militant caused the explosives to go off, killing 21 soldiers. In the aftermath of the attack, three Israeli officials anonymously told the New York Times Israel was demolishing the buildings to create a “security zone,” while an Israeli military spokesperson said the soldiers who had died were operating to “create the security conditions for the return of the residents of the south to their homes.”

Israel’s work on the zone comes amid widespread speculation about the future of Gaza after the eventual end of Israel’s ongoing genocidal assault, which has already killed at least 27,000 people. American, Arab, and Israeli officials have debated what comes next for the coastal enclave, with Western governments pushing for a revitalized Palestinian Authority to govern Gaza—which Israel opposes—and far-right Israeli ministers advocating to expel Palestinians from Gaza and build renewed Israeli settlements. Yet even as these policy discussions remain unresolved, Israel is unilaterally exerting control over Gaza’s post-war reality by constructing a militarized zone inside the enclave that materially shrinks the amount of Palestinian land while leaving open room for Israeli Jewish resettlement of the Strip. The strategy recalls Israel’s modus operandi in the West Bank, where Israel has built hundreds of settlements in order to create “facts on the ground” to entrench its control before the international community can do anything about it.

Current and former military officials portray the creation of a militarized Israeli zone inside Gaza as necessary to prevent another attack on southern Israeli communities near the border. “People coming back to their homes [in Israel] don’t want to see someone [in Gaza] take out a rifle or an anti-tank missile or come to the fence, cross it, and kill them,” said Jacob Nagel, a former national security advisor to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and a senior fellow at the Foundation for the Defense of Democracies, a neoconservative think tank that advocates for US intervention in the Middle East. “We have to show them that the area there is empty. Otherwise, it would be very tough for them to come back.” But Muhammad Shehada, a Palestinian writer and analyst from Gaza, said creating a so-called buffer zone through the demolition of Palestinian homes and neighborhoods will only fuel more violence. “In the areas that were systematically razed and wiped out, you’re giving people a very strong revenge incentive,” he said. “Israel is basically creating a recruitment poster [for Palestinian militant groups].” Indeed, the creation of the zone is likely to add to the list of Israeli war crimes committed in Gaza since October 7th. According to research by Corey Scher, a PhD student at the City University of New York’s Graduate Center, and Jamon Van Den Hoek, an associate professor of geography at Oregon State University, Israel has destroyed or damaged 143,900 structures throughout Gaza since October 7th, around 1,329 of which were in the proposed zone. Human rights experts have said that the destruction of civilian buildings and infrastructure may constitute war crimes. And if the Israeli zone continues to be created, more such homes will likely be demolished. “If there are no concrete, direct security grounds for why these houses have to be torn down, the destruction of civilian homes is completely illegal,” said Miriam Marmur, public advocacy director at Gisha, an Israeli human rights group focusing on Gaza. Nagel, however, is not concerned with such complaints: “There are no civilian buildings in Gaza,” he said, claiming that most buildings in the Strip are filled with weapons or contain tunnel entrances.

Keeping Palestinians out of the zone is also likely to involve further violations of international law. Some former Israeli officials have suggested laying mines in the border area, though the Israeli army has not publicly committed to this idea. Nagel predicted that the zone would be enforced by live fire. “I like to call it a ‘killing zone,’ but since ‘killing zone’ is not a nice term, we use the words ‘buffer zone,’” Nagel told Jewish Currents, clarifying that regardless of what the area is called, he thinks that “someone [who] is moving there without permission is going to be dead.” Such a policy would be illegal under international law, said Omar Shakir, Israel and Palestine Director at Human Rights Watch. “No territory can ever be a free-fire zone,” he said. Shakir added that, under international law, live fire force can only be deployed during war if it is proportionate—meaning that attacks on a military site must not include harm to civilians that is excessive in comparison to the expected military advantage of an operation—and if it discriminates between civilians and combatants.

There is precedent for Israel using lethal force to limit Palestinians’ access to land near the Israeli border. Since Israel pulled soldiers and settlers out of Gaza in 2005, the army has violently barred most Gazans from coming within 300 meters of the Israeli barrier—a policy that has led to indiscriminate attacks against Palestinian civilians in that zone, according to the Palestinian Center for Human Rights. From 2010 to 2017, Israeli soldiers opened fire 1,300 times in the 300 meter area, killing 161 Gazans there, according to Gisha. In 2018, when Palestinian protestors started the Great March of Return, congregating near the border to call for the end of Israel’s blockade of Gaza and the right of return to lands they were expelled from in 1948, Israeli snipers responded by shooting and killing 223 Palestinians. Over the years, Israeli soldiers have also cracked down on Palestinian farmers and herders working in the zone, sometimes spraying herbicide or razing farmland in order to enforce the prohibition on Palestinians coming near the Israeli barrier. Marmur said that many of these enforcement measures violated international law. “There is little reason to believe that the new buffer zone would be enforced differently, raising concern over an expansion of Israel’s illegal practices,” she said.

The militarized zone Israel is now planning to impose within Gaza would triple the size of the pre-October 7th iteration, severely impacting Palestinians in the Strip. The demolitions would worsen the housing crisis in the enclave, where nearly 70% of homes in Gaza have now been damaged or destroyed by Israeli bombs. In addition to leaving potentially thousands with no home to return to, the zone would deepen food insecurity in the Strip, since a third of Gaza’s agricultural land lies in the proposed zone. Due to Israel’s restrictions on humanitarian aid entering the Strip, Palestinians in Gaza already face a hunger crisis and virtually every family skips a meal every day, with 400,000 people at risk of starvation. The loss of further farmland will only compound this situation. In addition to these dire short term effects, the new Israeli zone may permanently “eat away Palestinian lands, adding to years of systemic dispossession of Palestinians,” Marmur said. Israeli officials claim that their control of this land will be “temporary,” but Nadia Hardman, a researcher in the Refugee and Migrants Rights Division of Human Rights Watch, told Jewish Currents that the scale of the destruction in the region indicates that Palestinians won’t be able to return their homes there “at any point in the foreseeable future.”

A permanent Israeli zone inside Gaza stands to significantly reshape the balance of power in any post-war scenario. In addition to allowing Israel to take over parts of Gaza’s territory—in the process creating, as per Shehada, “conditions that would push people to leave the territory”—such a zone could also pave the way for the building of new Israeli settlements. Resettling Gaza has been a long-standing demand of the Israeli right, one that has gained new momentum since October 7th. Indeed, on January 28th, a thousand Israeli settlers and their supporters—including 12 ministers from the ruling Likud party, along with national security minister Itamar Ben Gvir and finance minister Bezalel Smotrich—joined a Jerusalem conference to promote the resettlement of Gaza. Members of Likud have also proposed legislation to repeal the ban on Israeli civilians entering Gaza, which would allow settlers a foothold in the territory. Observers say a permanent Israeli zone in Gaza is likely to accelerate this process. “We have watched this play out again and again in the West Bank and also in Gaza before 2005: Israeli settlements always start off with a security justification,” said Zaha Hassan, a human rights lawyer and a fellow at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. “It starts with a military base going up somewhere and then the area being declared a no go zone. And then slowly that security justification becomes muted—and then we start seeing settlements.”

Yet even as human rights advocates raise such alarms about the consequences of the zone, the US may be softening its opposition to the project. That opposition was never particularly forceful: “There’s been very little outrage from the US administration about the creation of the buffer zone as it’s been happening in real time,” Hassan said. As a result, Israel has proceeded by simply disregarding the US’s reservations, an approach that seems to have paid off. Last month, Blinken hinted the US may accept a temporary Israeli buffer zone inside the Gaza border, saying there may need to be “transitional arrangements” to ensure Israel’s security and “make sure that October 7th can never happen again.” But according to Hassan, “there’s not a lot of credibility regarding Israeli assertions that these things are going to be temporary.” She pointed to how Israel’s separation barrier in the West Bank was originally portrayed by Israeli officials as a temporary security measure, only for it to remain standing 20 years later—with Israeli officials coming to openly describe it as a permanent border between Israel and the occupied West Bank. Israel’s temporary measures, Hassan concluded, “have a way of sticking around for a long time.”

-- "An Israeli “Buffer Zone” Could Shape Gaza’s Post-War Reality" by Alex Kane for Jewish Currents, 6 Feb 2024

[mrs-monaghan]

Hey I’m new to bts and I love Jikook although I don’t believe they’re a couple yet because. My friend advised me to watch the original bts content before watching the shipper videos because they’re misleading. I’ve been watching all vlives, bang tan bombs, award shows, Bon voyage, and ITS. When I watched all those, I noticed that Jimin gives Tae more attention than any other member, I noticed that Jk gives Jin, and Tae more attention, V gives Jimin and Jhope more attention. I also noticed that the way Jikook communicate is normal and nothing suspicious about it. I then decided to watch Jikook videos because I accidentally watched one when I was searching for Jimin’s song serendipity and came across the Jikook serendipity analysis. I’m now in the rabbit hole. I came across your page and you talked about “the news article that was ready to out Jkk’s relationship back in 2018”. I just wanted to know where you heard that and if there is any proof because I’m a person who doesn’t dwell on conspiracies but rather proof. Another thing, did they really get married because most of the videos mentioned how they got married during their trip to Tokyo. Another thing, are there any pictures of them hangout and living together. Thank you.

You watched BV and noticed Jimin gives V more attention? You watched original content and noticed that JK gives V and Jin more attention?

I am so confused as to what you're talking about. I would bite if u said JK giving Jin more attention but V? What exactly are u watching? Are you sure its not that shipper content that you say you're avoiding? Specifically tkk content? Which ftr you will rarely find Jikook manipulated content. I'm not saying it doesn't exist but its rare. We don't need to manipulate. They give us everything on a silver platter.

I shared the dispatch thing not long before this scroll lower u will see it. No, Jikook are not married. They can't be married. And even if they did it wouldn't be recognised in SK. And at the time of them going to Tokyo, Japan hadn't recognised gay marriage yet. Jikook married as far as I know its something Jikookers like to say coz they act like a married couple. But they have been spotted with matching rings on more than one occasion which is a reason for suspicion.

I already don't like u from your V comment but sure let's look at a few things.

I always bring this up because no one ever talks about it but I honestly love it so much and it really tickled me.

BV season 5 episode 6. Vmin sleep on the bed

JK makes the bed the next morning. Because Jimin is one spoilt boyfriend, alright? But when Vmon slept on that same bed, JK told them

JK definitely favoured Jimin over V there anon.

Run BTS episode 71 JK makes a big pancake for Jimin because he had a penalty to do

The kicker is though, anon. That Jin too was doing the same penalty.

Why didn't JK make him a pancake too? Doesn't that seem like JK played favourites with Jimin and not Jin? 🤔

In the Soop season 1 episode 6. We found out V asked JK to speak casually with him

But JK refused because;

Meanwhile we have him going Jiminah! Jimin! Jiminssi! Everywhere all the time. So again anon, JK refused V one thing but has no issue doing it with Jimin.

Bon voyage season 3 episode 4 after Tkk did laundry they went upstairs and JK only checked on Jimin.

He did not check on Jin behind him.

At this point I'm just offended that you haven't picked up on my favourite thing about Jikook and that's satellite Jeon/Jikook. You don't even need compilations to see this. Anything you watch. Anything at all. They are always next to eo. Always.

They're literally always together. And JK always chooses Jimin. Not V and not Jin. Not anyone else. No matter what you watch.

Me thinks you need to rewatch what you already did because you missed everything.

Like Mizgator said, you're blind if you don't see it

[daughter-of-sapph0]

people are so fucking stupid. there's a Chinese balloon over Missouri right now, and people are saying this is an invasion of privacy and we should go to war.

do they even think about anything?

why would China spy on cities and fields in the midwest? the balloon is floating from Montana to possibly North Carolina, and all it's doing is just following the wind.

why would China use a balloon instead of spy satellites, which they already have?

what actually damage could a balloon do?

there's nothing China could learn from a balloon that they can't learn for free from something like google maps

the biggest threat right now is that popping the balloon might cause falling debris to land and hurt someone.

it's not for surveillance. it's not disrupting flight or air traffic. obviously it shouldn't be there, and tproc have said "whoops our bad. we're gonna fix that. obviously we don't wanna overstep anyone's boundaries"

but people are baseless accusing China of spying... with a very obvious balloon... that can't see anything that isn't already public information online... all without any proof... and demanding it be shot down... and that we should nuke all of China... over a fucking balloon...

sinophobia is when you're more afraid of a balloon than you are of world war three

and because I don't make shit up without sources, here's an article explaining the situation at the moment

the only people who claims this is for surveillance is the governor Montana in his huge rant about communism and tiktok, an anonymous person who has no idea what they're talking about, and stupid people on twitter and far right propagandists. literally every other expert in the us government has said that it's not for surveillance.

[ranger-ribbons]

Ranger Series Operators Headcanons

Ziggy isn't an orphan, he has a father. His father runs another cartel and has been quietly running it underground so far that not even the other cartels have heard more than whispers of.

Dillon and Tenaya's birth names are Daniel and Genevieve

Tenaya's implants are more complete than Dillon’s so once Venjix is defeated, she remembers everything. Dillon's memories come back slowly

Summer, Scott, and Flynn are ride-or-die friends. They'd hide bodies for each other if necessary and can communicate without speaking if necessary

Dillon thinks he stayed in Corinth for Summer, under the impression that she was the one who hooked that first fight into the satellite for Dillon’s borrowed car. Ziggy, forever the king of playing himself down, doesn't correct Dillon, he's just happy Dillon stayed.

None of the Series Operator Rangers are straight. Scott, Flynn, and Summer are all bisexual, Dillon is unlabeled and likes anyone (demisexual if he vibed with labels), Ziggy is gay (or bisexual leaning towards men), and Gem and Gemma are queer. Doctor K is the only one who's straight

If he knew to go looking, Dillon would find his parents' graves in the Wastes. They died protecting their children from Grinders, they were traveling to Corinth. Dillon's car belonged to his father

Gem and Gemma have a form of telepathy left over from the experiments done on them at Alphabet Soup, it's why they can finish each other's sentences

Ziggy has had a crush on Scott, Flynn, Dillon, and Gem, and a platonic one on Summer. He can't help it! They're badasses and Ziggy’s got a thing for people who could obviously kick his ass

Flynn is the oldest of the core Rangers at 25, Scott is 24, Dillon and Summer are both 21, Summer being a few months younger, and Ziggy is 18. Gem and Gemma are in their late 20s, Doctor K is 19

Dillon didn't just click with Ziggy, he actually only tolerated his Wastes partner for the few weeks they were in the Wastes together. But, somehow Ziggy grew on him

Ziggy is Dillon’s best friend, baby brother, and maybe more rolled up into one. Dillon adores Ziggy, but won't let it show. Ziggy, of course, knows this and adores Dillon right back

Scott, Summer, Flynn, Dillon, and Ziggy are all in what amounts to a Queer Platonic Relationship. They seek each other out automatically at this point. If so inclined, that relationship could turn romantic real quick

Scott gives doberman vibes, Summer gives white cat vibes, Flynn gives husky vibes, Dillon gives black cat vibes, Ziggy gives orange cat vibes

Ziggy was once a gymnast, which is the only reason he was able to fight as well as he did at first

The Rangers spar together even after Venjix is defeated

Dillon doesn't like Scott, but he does respect and love him

They're all fucking idiots at best, but Scott can and will chain himself to any of the Rangers if they try to run away.

All the Rangers have some form of abandonment issues. The least of which is Flynn, who has issues regarding his mother's death, the most of which is Ziggy, who was abandoned at the orphanage at age five

The Rangers are always in a rainbow of shipping, but none is more obvious than the RPM Rangers. You can ship anyone with anyone (except Gem/Gemma of course)

The hit on Ziggy’s head never went away, and he never expected it to. He was in the mob from age 10 to age 17, he knows better than to expect kindness from people who would kill him in a heartbeat

On that subject, Ziggy doesn't leave the garage unless he has another person (Dillon) with him

Dillon and Tenaya don't go back to their original names, but they do take their original surname of Sevenson (which is where Venjix got the Seven from)

All the Rangers have PTSD and nightmares. They sneak into each other's beds or have puppy piles on the floor. Usually, you'll see specific patterns with sleeping arrangements. For example, Ziggy hasn't slept in his own bed since the Venjix virus started taking over Dillon, but he rarely ended the night in his own bed even before that

Flynn is the fan-favorite Ranger, but it's a close tie with Dillon and Scott

[callsignthirsty]

Really wanting an iceman x reader where the reader was in his topgun class but she and others are on a dangerous mission (sometime after graduation) and ice is in the control room where he can hear the radio!! maybe she saves someone from being shot down while putting herself in danger or turns back to save someone, set kinda around the original movie?

Hey Nonnie! Thanks for the request. I wasn’t able to think up anything particularly high stakes, but I hope that you like what I cooked up for ya.

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x F!Reader (Your call sign is Lady Luck) Word Count: 2200 Warnings: N/A

No Promises

It was dark when you arrived in the briefing room, and it would still be dark in 30 minutes when you were shot off the deck to begin your mission.

You'd been stationed at sea for weeks, hoping that tensions never escalated beyond posturing, but the enemy attack on and sinking of a US frigate meant that you were being sent in.

"This–," your Captain approached the screen and circled an area, the projection distorting around his hand, "–is your target." Next slide. "It's the only enemy airfield within striking distance." Take out air cover, and their only option would be to send out the destroyers, but the enemy had to know that their navy was far outmatched. "Archer 1's missiles have been replaced with Mk 82s." Next slide. "Satellite imaging estimates roughly 30 jets within the target's hangar. Your mission, first and foremost, is to take out the runway before they can take off to retaliate."

The simplicity of the plan didn't make it any less dangerous. Three pilots to protect one equipped with enough gun powder to take out an entire hangar but barely enough to defend themself in a fight. Take out the airfield. Beat the enemy back into line. But after the previous day's attack, the enemy knew you'd be coming. They just didn't know when.

"Have I missed anything, Lieutenant Kazansky?"

Ice stood shrouded in shadow toward the front of the room, right arm in a plaster cast, Slider by his side. But not even a broken bone could stop Ice from participating. He'd worked his way into every possible strategy meeting. His fingerprints were all over the plan you'd just been walked through, and you were sure it killed him to see you — the only Top Gun pilot on board who was cleared to fly — get to lead it.

"Fly low. Fly fast." His eyes swept the room, alert even in the early morning hour as he singled you out from the group. You knew what was coming next: "And keep your comms on."

"Dismissed."

You climbed aboard your jet, Casper on your heels. Ticked all the boxes in your preflight check while the rest of your squad ran through theirs. Then, you were taxied to the canon, and before the sun had peaked over the horizon, you were shooting off the deck.

The comms crackled on as all four jets fell into formation, the glow of the runway lights disappearing amongst still-black waves: "Good morning, aviators." Ice. "20 minutes to target, do North Northwest. Fly low."

"Copy, Control," you answered, and you know it has to be killing him to sit this one out, but no one can fly with a broken wrist. Not even the Iceman. "This is Archer 1, headed North Northwest at 900 feet. Expected arrival just after 0500 hours." Right after sunrise.

Ice straightened from his position over the shoulder of the communications operator, his finger releasing the green push-to-talk button. Slider stood to his left to avoid bumping into Ice's casted arm. He'd told his RIO that he didn't need to come with, but Slider was nothing if not loyal, so he'd grumbled to the coffee maker and come along anyway. "Here we go," Slider said quiet enough that Ice was confident he was the only one to catch it. He nodded imperceptibly as the radio crackled, and you ran through a check with Archers 2, 3, and 4: Checkmate and Breaker, Burbank and Yellow, AOK and Plan B.

You'd been flying straight at the target for 11 minutes when two blips appeared on the radar.

"Archers, there are 2 bogeys at 2 o'clock," said the comms operator. "Headed past you at a healthy distance."

"Copy, Control."

Another 3 minutes, then the bogeys began a lazy circle back toward their base. Still, they couldn't have seen you: in addition to the low light and your flying below radar detection, they were too far away to see you with the naked eye.

"Archers, those bogeys are circling around. Looks like they're returning to base."

"They onto us?" That was Yellow.

"Negative, Archer 3, but their path intersects yours. Proceed as planned."

"Control, this is Archer 2 requesting permission to engage." Checkmate. The comms operator looked to the Captain, and it bothered Ice that they hadn't looked to him. It was his plan, after all.

The Captain nodded. "Archer 2, permission granted. Intercept the bogeys and fire at will."

"Copy, Control."

"Right behind you, Checkmate," AOK called out to his lead. Comms operators got to work flipping breakers to keep Checkmate and AOK's radio separate from yours and Burbank's.

"Archers 1 and 3, Archers 2 and 4 have split. Continue to target. Estimated arrival: 5 minutes."

The Control room broke into chaos as soon as Checkmate and AOK engaged the enemy planes.

"Oh shit, there's four of them."

"Break left!"

"4 minutes to target."

"AO, he's on my tail!"

"Bring'm 'round."

"Casper, prepare package for delivery."

"Check, I'm switching to guns."

"Oh shit, Burb, Luck, there's two bogeys headed past us high at 9 o'clock."

"That sonuvabitch hit me!"

"Did they see us?"

"Stay with me, AO."

"I don't think so."

"Check, get this asshole off of me!"

"3 minutes to target."

"I've got missile lock."

"Bank right!"

"Shit, that was close."

"How we doing, Cas?"

"Take the shot!"

"2 minutes to target."

"Ready for delivery, Luck."

"Bring 'em around, AO."

"Yellow, do you see anything?"

"Negative, Burb–"

"Checkmate, I'm out of missiles."

"–I don't think they saw us."

"1 minute to target."

"I can see it."

"Two down, two to go. Switching to guns."

"Checkmate, there's a hostile on our six."

"You ready for this Burbank?"

"Get 'em offa me, AO!"

"Born ready, Luck."

"Control, we are dropping the package in 3…"

"Left engine's out."

"Shutting it down."

"2…"

"Got 'em!"

"Yeehaw!"

"1."

"Control, this is Archers 2 and 4; hostiles have been dispatched–"

"Bombs away, boys."

"–but we're out of ammo. Returning to Flight Deck."

"Deploy Archer Spare." The command was out of Ice's lips, and he pointedly stared straight ahead, ignoring the Captain's glare. The Captain waved it off, not moving to approve takeoff.

"Oh, Lady Luck, they didn't like that one bit."

"What're they going to do about it, Burbank?" You and Burbank continued to circle the airstrip, dropping all six of your bombs, but not fast enough to prevent two planes from taking off. Plus, the two bogeys that had flown past you earlier had circled around after the first explosion.

"Archers 1 and 3: Four hostiles inbound from the runway and on your 6."

Finally, the Captain gave the go-ahead for Comms to clear Archer Spare for takeoff.

"Comms to Flight Deck: deploy Archer Spare."

"I see 'em."

"Begin return to Flight Deck. Archer Spare is on their way."

"Burb, Yellow: arm missiles. Cas, I'm switching to guns."

"Copy that. Arming missiles."

"How long until Archer Spare engages?" Ice asked, and it's only through years of honing his signature icy demeanor that he managed to keep the concern from his face, but his palm is sweaty beneath the plaster of his cast.

"12 minutes."

"This will be over in 5."

"Lieutenant Kazansky." Ice clenched his jaw shut as the Captain called him to heel.

"Now would be a great time to take the shot, Burb."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?!"

"Luck, we're taking a hostile down the left."

"Jesus Christ, that was close."

"Firing!"

"Where are they, Yellow?"

"Two coming around on our six."

"Split 'em!"

The chatter continued until you and Burbank had managed to take out all but one hostile out for the flight of his life. But it was two against one, and Ice liked those odds.

"Shit, Luck. We're out."

Unless, of course–

"Of what?"

"Everything."

Fuck.

"Bring 'em around nice and easy, Burbank."

"Fuck that–" a freaked-out Yellow "–Fly dammit! They're gonna get missile lock on us!"

"Keep mellow, Yellow."

"Fuck you, Casper."

"You gotta help me out here, Burbank. I can't get a shot!"

"9 minutes."

"Shit. We're out, too."

"What?!"

"You gotta shake him, Burb."

"I can't!"

"Luck, do something!"

Archers 1 and 3 were silent for a couple seconds before your voice filtered back over the radio. "Control, it loo- -’re h-ving prob-" Ice lunged forward and smashed his good hand down on the green button.

"Kazansky!"

"Luck, don't you dare–" but it was too late; you'd already switched off your comms. "Dammit!" Slider chuckled over his shoulder at the slip in his controlled façade. Ice didn't pay his RIO or the Captain any mind. In the minute that your comms were cut off, his head flooded with nightmare scenarios. You had been known to shut off your comms right before dragging Casper into something stupid.

Your comms switched back on. "Control, this is Archer 1 requesting deployment of a rescue helicopter." The blip of your jet banked wide right before reorienting itself with the path of the hostile on Burbank's tail. Ice's eyes went wide.

"Archer 1," the Comms operator sputtered, "Archer Spare will be at your location in 6 minutes."

Ice knew that neither you nor Burbank had six minutes. Still, he leaned over the console, ready to knock you off whatever Maverick bullshit you had planned, but he was too late.

"Mayday. Mayday. Archer 1 is going down," Casper's voice came out strong over the radio, nothing was wrong with your plane except for its collision course with the hostile. Your dot almost on top of them.

"Burb, roll right!"

"Eject! Eject!"

Static fuzz.

"Control, this is Archer 3 returning to Flight Deck." Ice continued to hold his breath, Slider's hand on his shoulder. "Archer 1 has deployed parachutes."

— —

When Ice appeared at your door, you were getting ready to leave the med bay in pursuit of dry clothes. "Here to congratulate me on a successful mission?"

"What the hell was that?" he bit, and you rolled your eyes as your expression soured.

"If you're just here to yell at me," you said, trailing off as you tried to push past him and into the hallway, but he blocked your escape.

"No. You don't get to pull a stunt like that and just walk away, Luck."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was that not a part of your plan?" Ice remained silent as he took a deep breath, the muscle in his jaw twitching. It hadn't. He'd tried to deploy Archer Spare on time to get to you, but he'd been outranked. "Spare was too far out, and Burbank and I were out of ammo. What did you expect me to do? Leave him to die?"

"Burbank is a capable pilot–"

"He's a kid!" A cocky one, but what pilot wasn't? He'd come to you all fresh from flight school, 20 years old, and insisting that he was Hollywood. Slider had laughed in his face and told him that you already knew a Hollywood. When you'd all found out a couple days later that he was actually from Burbank, the name — much to his chagrin — stuck.

"–and what you did put not only your life, but Casper's, Yellow's, and Burbank's in danger."

"Is that it? Was I being too dangerous?" Where had you heard that one before?

"Luck."

"Why can't you just admit that you're jealous?" You crossed your arms over your chest and genuinely thought you had him, especially when he spat out a 'what?'. "The Navy's poster child sidelined, and Lady Luck takes his role leading a successful mission for the US of A."

Ice actually laughed as if you'd said the funniest damn thing he'd ever heard, and your arms crossed tighter over your chest for an entirely different reason. Had you really pinned him that wrong?

"That's what you think this is about?"

"Whatever, Kazansky." You tried to push past him to get out of your wet clothes. You were starting to get cold.

Ice caught you with his good hand and dragged you forward until you were pressed against his chest. You had to crane your head to meet his eyes, but there was something different in them. Not anger. Not frustration. Heat.

The warning registered too late, and suddenly his lips were on yours, the force of them bruising. His hand anchored on the side of your jaw, possessive as he tilted you into a better angle and licked at the seam of your lips. You groaned, eyes slipping closed as the plaster of his cast pressed into your lower back until you were arching into him.

Your hands rose to grip the lapels of his service khakis and drag him closer until his teeth caught on your lower lip and sucked it into his hot mouth.

You broke apart when your head spun from lack of oxygen, lids heavy as you stared up at him. "Oh."

"Don't you ever do that to me again," he commanded, his cheeks the same breathless pink as yours. 

"If this is the way you greet me once I'm back on the ground?" you asked, a cruel smile blossoming as your eyes flicked from his lips to his eyes. "No promises."

[ducktoonsfanart]

Ducktales Crew in spacesuits on the Moon in space - Ducktales Adults in spacesuits on the Moon in space - Ducktales Kids and Teenagers in spacesuits on the Moon in space - Ducktales in Space (AU) -Tribute to Ducktales 2017

I usually have all kinds of complaints about Ducktales 2017, but I still did what I should have done before, and that was to realize the idea of Ducktales in space and that at the request of my friends and followers. So I'm going to publish these drawings (even three, with the other two being connected) related to Ducktales with a crew traveling through space, that is, an adventure with no return, starting with the Moon, which is Earth's satellite, not a planet. And yes, there is no Gyro's Oxy-chew invention in my headcanon at least as far as Ducktales in space is concerned. Yes, although you have seen my previous drawings about it, you can know what it is about.

The first drawing (second in line) is actually my drawing for my friend from Deviantart as a redraw of his drawings where I linked on one plus added my own characters. Ducktales characters mostly wear spacesuits inspired by the game Quantum Space Chase flash game where Huey, Dewey and Louie travel through space in their spacesuits each in their own color of course plus added the Communication Carrier Assembly (CCA) (what astronauts usually wear) and helmets with their bags with oxygen. I don't need to say why. It is one perspective of space adventures with that I used more about DT17 combined with classic style.

The second and third drawings (first, third and fourth respectively) show the Ducktales gang walking on the moon in space, in their spacesuits. With the fact that I used the model for these space suits as inspiration mainly from cartoons and comics, above all from Sandy Cheeks from Sponge Bob who wears a space suit as an underwater suit, so in addition to a space suit, it can also be used as an underwater suit and as a protective suit from various diseases and volcanic eruptions. Of course, this is an invention of Fenton and Gandra, in my headcanon. So, almost everyone wears a similar version of a spacesuit, visible helmets and oxygen bags, except for Scrooge who wears a Mark V Rig underwater suit but like a spacesuit (he prefers the old clothes) and Daisy who wears a retro sci-fi spacesuit (modeled after modeled after sci-fi films and comics from the 1950s and 1960s). And almost everyone is happy, except Gyro, since his invention is not being used. Yes, I drew this in my own way, using more of a classic style, but definitely based on the DT17 character models. With the fact that such spacesuits could be used not only for the Ducktales reboot version, but also in general.

So in these drawings are Donald and Daisy Duck, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, Gandra Dee, Scrooge McDuck, Gyro Gearloose, Della Duck, Launchpad McQuack, Drake Mallard, Bentina Beakley, Huey, Dewey and Louie Duck, Phooey Duck, Kabooie Duck ( Donald's fifth lost nephew who wears the color brown), Gosalyn Mallard, Webby Vanderquack, Lena De Spell (Sabrewing), Violet Sabrewing, May and June Duck, and Boyd Gearloose.

Yes, and this is my gift to all Ducktales 2017 fans and space travel fans, as well as my belated tribute to the sixth anniversary of Ducktales, but most of all as a gift to my friends, @ducksinspaceadventure , @ducktales-and-ducks and @secret-tester. I hope you like these drawings and you like these ideas. Who knows, maybe they'll travel to Mars or Alpha Centauri afterwards.

Yes, I spent two to three days making these drawings and no one should use these versions without my permission or the permission of my friend who authorized me to do this. I hope you like these drawings and these ideas as well as these space outfits and if you have any other ideas, feel free to say and you can say whether you like these space suits or the usual ones. And sorry for this long post. Feel free to like and reblog this, it means a lot to me.

[usafphantom2]

Today is the SR -71's 59th birthday as a birthday present I would like to share a part of Paul Crickmore’s (a humble yet highly, intelligent English gentleman) summary of the SR 71 from his new book Lockheed Blackbird: behind the Secret Missions the Missing Chapters (it can be found on page 498.)

The SR 71 with cameras in the chine bay and SLAR sideways-looking airborne radar our SR 71 boasted the ability to provide simultaneous optic coverage of the target area.PHOTINT and RADINT ( photograph, and radar intelligence) which the A-12 could not do.

It was the SLAR system was continuously upgraded throughout the life of the program accumulating in an operational development of Loral Advance synthetic aperture radar system a SARS. This advance, digitalized radar system with a resolution of less than 1 foot at NADAR enabled, imagery to be transmitted and real time /near real time direct to the end user.

This capability was demonstrated at Det 2, and could have been deployed operationally much earlier if the program hadn’t been starved funds by the so-called “fighter mafia” that held the balance of power in the Pentagon during the late 1980s early 1990s and that ultimately allocated Air Force funding accordingly the same generals as well as senior officials of other US intelligence agencies were the ones who argued that the aircraft was far more expensive to operate than any other aircraft in the inventory.

🌟OF COURSE IT WAS. THAT’S BECAUSE NO OTHER AIRCRAFT IN THE INVENTORY COULD DO ANYTHING LIKE WHAT THE SR 71 AND ITS SENSORS COULD DO. AS HABU PILOT, MAC McKENDREE OBSERVED “IT’S NOT AN AIRPLANE. IT’S AN AIR-BREATHING MAN SUBORBITAL SATELLITE. EVERYTHING ABOUT IT WAS UNIQUE: FUEL, HYDRAULIC FUEL, TIRES SCREWS, FASTENERS, TITANIUM CONSTRUCTION IS UNIQUE IF YOU WANT TO COMPARE THE SR TO SOMETHING THEN COMPARE IT TO THE SPACE SHUTTLE “

Air Crews selection, for the SR-71 program was always hotly contested as they were all unquestionably at the top of their game. They had to be….The demanding mission, the complexity of the aircraft and its systems…

Consequently, crewmembers entering the SR-71 program with the rank of major were usually promoted to Lt.Col among completing their tour. However, all of this changed with the arrival of General Larry Welch, as Air Force chief of staff, and his cohort as a result, the last six crews that entered the program as Majors, were all passed for promotion, the rumor was that their personal folders were never passed the promotion board and NOT surprisingly. This had the demoralizing effect on their pride, and a detrimoralizing impact on their salary and pension. There is no doubt that those involved with the Blackbirds were of the highest caliber and real team players… totally focused on ensuring that the mission whatever it may have been was a success. as Pratt and Whitney‘s Arnie Gunderson recalled” Everyone I encountered on the program was proud of the role. From the commander of the wing to the airman who mopping up the JP seven from under the wings everyone demonstrate the highest degree of respect for their teammates “

And it’s final analysis it can be argued that the SR-71 program was terminated at least five years earlier than necessary. Indeed, it had received the technology packages that already existed and were demonstrated during the period which it was briefly reactivated during Det 2 at Edwards from 1995 to October 10, 1997

Kelly Johnson would have been bang on the money when he predicted in 1964 that his platform could perform its duty to the intelligence community and national leadership until 2001 and beyond.

If history teaches us anything it is that we should never take democracy for granite and that dictators should never be appeased.

Thank you, Paul Crickmore a honorary member of the Habu family. We all appreciate what you have done to tell the story of the unique SR 71 program Linda Sheffield a proud Habubrat.

@Habubrats71 via X

[sarcastic-sketches]

Meeting the 501st

Carrying on from my Force of Nature AU post where I mash the TV show Primal (Genndy Tartakovsky) with the Star Wars prequels, Anakin has crash landed on a hostile planet and is now a feral amnesiac. He’s half-force and he’s going to use that to his benefit to survive this place.

So, years after Anakin has forgotten everything about himself, the Clone Wars are in full swing, the Galaxy is ready to tear itself apart, and both Dooku and the Jedi Council have taken notice of a very biologically active planet that has a bright star of a force signature on it. A force signature that could sway the tide of battle. Is there a nexus point on that planet or is it a person?

Both sides obviously don’t want the other to get it and use it against them so Obi-Wan, his padawan Ahsoka, and the 212th/501st go to the planet to check it out. (The 501st are kind of a satellite Legion that attach onto other Jedi led Battalions as and when needed… they are claiming Ahsoka as their Jedi if the war is still going when she's Knighted.) Expecting resistance from the Separatists, they don’t really anticipate the planet itself to resist them.

They soon realise this planet is hellish and the less men they have on the ground the better. Miasma fog that disorientate you and alter your memories, entire forests that move to grab ships flying overhead and bring them down to the forest floor for carnivorous fungi to feed upon, a crimson moon that crests over the horizon inciting predators to swarm and hunt on mass. 

Rex says he can handle this with just Torrent and he’ll keep in regular comms with General Kenobi who is probably needed elsewhere more. Obi-Wan wants to stay, because hot damn does that force signature feel familiar but it can’t be, Anakin has been missing/dead for 4 years, and he can’t keep his priorities in order. So he leaves Ahsoka with them to keep an eye on the Force signature (that's been moving) but so far it’s keeping to the dense jungle that seems to take up half the planet. They set up camp and wait, feeling very creeped out by all the life on this planet that wants to eat and kill everything else and not seeing any clankers. Ahsoka's hackles are raised near constantly.

Fives: This is like Umbara all over again Echo: Don’t.

I’m gonna say all the boys are here because I want them to be and having only Obi-Wan lead them would have changed which battles they went to and how they fought them etc. (Also no Krell, because that guy can choke). The legions would have been shuffled around as there is one less Jedi General (who could pull a win out of his ass) to send off to different campaigns. Whenever Obi-Wan isn’t actively giving orders, he just lets Rex and Cody team up to do what they do best tbh. Rex wasn’t made a Captain of the most elite trooper calibre for no reason and there are three additional ARCs in Torrent.

They are shocked to discover that there are actually people living here but they are kept neat and secure behind their fortified walls. Tiny civilisations that strive to keep the nightmares out, by any means possible with vastly different lifestyles. You’ve got the witches who steal the life force of others to create more of their own, the humanoids who live exclusively underground to keep out of sight from aerial predators, and the more advanced communities who Do Not Leave their borders that they’ve made safe. 

So the boys do similarly, making camp in a sort of fort - electrified fences, flood lights, constant fires, etc - and they are keeping watch when suddenly someone is sitting on top of a stack of crates handling their weaponry. They have no idea how he got past them but he looks human and doesn’t seem to want to eat them so they’re startled rather than threatened after a few minutes of watching him (they think it’s a him) not do much of anything. He’s clearly curious more than anything and he’s nowhere near as built as any of the clones. They could take him, right? The person looks kind of amused by their reaction anyway and darts off to a higher vantage point when one of the troops makes a grab for him. He’s a dark blonde, with hair that has grown into a curly mop, and the kind of lanky frame that's all limbs but with obvious deceptive muscle and strength to haul himself around that gracefully and that quickly. There’s also some nasty looking exaggerated canines and the clones are pretty sure humans don’t normally have reflective lenses in their eyes. 

Hardcase: Uhhh, Rex, you copy? Rex: Yeah? Hardcase: There’s someone in the camp Rex: Repeat that?? Hardcase: He’s not wearing boots either. We think he came out of the jungle. Rex: On my way

Ahsoka, taking one look at Anakin, perched on top of their ship and looking down at all the gathered troopers like a cat in a tree, points and goes ‘that’s him. He’s the one we’re looking for’. 

Still doesn’t really change the fact that he seems quite content to just bother them by being a nosy bastard about their camp but other than that he’s not really causing a problem. Or running away. He also has some amazing adaptation abilities - if he’s half-force, does that mean the Force is responsible for half of his genetic code? How much weird shit could come of that if the Force can handle slight morphological changes - He can grow gills if he’s kept underwater so he doesn’t drown. The reflective pupils aid him to see in the dark but during the day they are absent. Some of the men swear they’ve even seen him sporting a long flexible tail to hold things from time to time. The men all start bonding with this bizarre cryptid while Ahsoka and Anakin compare how big their fangs are and how sharp their claws are. Ahsoka is ecstatic that she now has a hunting partner because finally, someone gets it.

Rex: Didn’t think humans could get fangs like that, or claws Ahsoka: I’m not sure he’s entirely human. Seems too wild for that Anakin: Thank you Rex/Ahsoka: What

Up to this point he’s been entirely non-verbal and the troops assumed he couldn’t understand Basic. He absolutely can (retrograde amnesia doesn’t make you forget language) so he’s just been fucking with them. That’s ingrained, amnesia will not make him any less of a little shit. Thus begins the million and one questions they have for him once they realise he can speak and does understand them. He can also understand their droids.

They all start to let their guard down because huh he’s just a dude after all, trapped on a horrible planet and had to make do. It’s all fun and games until they see Anakin go from stationary to launching himself at a T-rex's throat that just charged out of the jungle in under a second. 

They respect the fact that he is also an apex predator on this planet from that point onward. 

[soliloquent-stark]

Hi!!! I’m working to create a more vibrant community for stony fans so tell me:

Favorite stony headcanon

Canon moment/interaction that makes you feral

Three most recent stony fics you read and why you liked them!

hii, thank you for sending this and for keeping the fandom active <3

favorite stony headcanon: i might use this in a fic at some point but i headcanon this — when tony died, the housing port/reactor light died with him, but it didn't when he simply gave it to steve. this makes sense as it's connected to his body and probably scans for his body signature in proximity. but! we know he has satellites that connect to his suits, as seen when he deploys one to peter, and we also know friday is able to scan his vitals. so, technically, if the feedback goes through the satellite, it all eventually connects to the housing port.

this means that even if the port is far from him, as long as he's alive, the nanoparticles are active and sending signals to the satellite, and the light stays on. well, guess who conveniently forgot to return the port after everything that went down in space, and proceeded to keep it on him for five years just as a reminder and reassurance that tony is alive. :)

canon moment/interaction that makes you feral: for some reason, all i can think about lately is put. on. the. suit and that does make me feral, especially the little waist touch that follows it. 🤭

three most recent stony fics you read and why you liked them:

Bring Him Home by seventymilestobabylon: i reread this the other day and oh my GOD, the angst is so beautiful. i can't resist a good civil war fic and the way tony's brain works in this one is so fascinating. it's just amazing in every way. ❤️‍🩹

Even My Phone Misses Your Call by rainbowninja167: i read this because @kandisheek recommended it and i loved it! it was so funny and fluffy, it really felt very comforting. i especially adore steve in it. 🥹

The Michelin Man by copperbadge: currently (finally) going through the foodieverse and i have nothing to say besides *incoherent noises*; it's honestly such a fun world and i am living for it. my favourite thing about the series is how visual and vibrant everything is, it's really an immersive experience and i'm in awe. ❤️

[pocket-lad]

CH 8- A (Not So) Promising Start

Prev

Adelaide was in Sarah’s hand. Sarah had grabbed her. She struggled against it on instinct (eight years of it was hard to suppress), uncomfortable in the dark, wet, muddy enclosure, but settled down when she heard Ian’s voice. They were going to get out of this. She just had to be patient, keep a low profile, and take deep breaths.

The men that just arrived had to be the other InGen team. There was nobody else on the island. At least as far as Adelaide knew. She didn’t think she’d be facing this many Humans, and she and Sarah seemed to agree that now wasn’t the time to introduce a tiny humanoid being into the already messy equation.

Sarah couldn’t find a good time to sneak Adelaide into a pocket with all these eyes trained on her, so she held Adelaide against her stomach. Ian looked at her, and Sarah nodded toward her occupied hand in response to his unspoken question. Adelaide was safe. Ian looked relieved. He had Kelly in his arms and Sarah and Adelaide close by. They survived.

Adelaide meanwhile felt stifled against Sarah’s stomach. Her body was coated head to toe in mud, and breathing was difficult. She felt Sarah stand up, and the Beans went on their way. All Adelaide could do was sit tight and try desperately not to think about Eddie’s last moments. It didn’t go so well.

She tried to keep her fidgeting to a minimum. Ian said it could tickle (which Adelaide took great offense to at the time), and she didn’t want to inadvertently reveal herself by causing Sarah to twitch.

Eventually they stopped moving and an accented voice started speaking. “Our communication equipment’s been destroyed. And if your radio and satellite phone were in those trailers, then we’re stuck here, ladies and gentlemen. And stuck together, thanks to you people.”

“Yeah, we came to watch,” Nick said offensively. “You came to strip mine the place. Back off.” The last bit seemed to be directed toward somebody else, but Adelaide had no way to tell.

“At least we came prepared,” Peter Ludlow, said. Great. Hammond's nephew was on the island.

“It’s a looter mentality,” Nick continued. “All you care about is what you can take. You have no right.”

“An extinct animal brought back to life has no rights. It exists because we made it. We patented it. We own it.”

Oh, that was it. Adelaide’s blood boiled. Typical Humans, deciding who did and did not have rights. These animals weren’t even genetically engineered! They had been living on the island for a while now and were likely offspring of those engineered animals. Ludlow would probably say she has no rights either just because he was big enough to do so.

Adelaide suddenly felt very cramped, her anger taking up most of the space in her small enclosure and leaving little room for her body. She shoved at Sarah’s hand, hoping to at least gain a little more breathing room. Or maybe stab Ludlow in the neck.

“Whatchu got there?” Yet another new voice, and not one that sounded friendly. Adelaide froze.

“Nothing,” Sarah said confidently. “I think I bruised my ribs.”

Adelaide admired Sarah’s lying capabilities, but she doubted it would do them any good. She felt the tension in the air and readied herself to attack, just in case.

Sarah’s hand was abruptly yanked away from her stomach and shaken around with sharp, jerky movements, threatening to make Adelaide throw up. She searched for a grip on anything that was available, which was, unfortunately, not much. She didn't have to worry about falling, though. Sarah's hand instinctively tightened to prevent this, squeezing Adelaide just a little too tightly. There was yelling coming from a bunch of different people, but Adelaide couldn’t differentiate any of the voices.

Sarah tried her best to wrestle her hand away, but she also didn’t want to hurt Adelaide or send her flying. In the end, Sarah’s hand was empty, numerous people stood on guard, and Adelaide was dangling from her shirt between the pinched fingers of Dieter Stark.

All of this was a blur for the borrower. She wouldn’t be able to gain her bearings until everyone stopped moving, but she made sure she had a grasp on the one thing that was important - her knife. When everything stilled, Adelaide found herself face to face with a new human. He sneered down his big nose at her.

Adelaide clenched her jaw. It was hard not to show fear when the only things keeping her from falling to the ground were the thumb and forefinger of an unknown, unpredictable, and unfriendly giant clasping the back of her T-shirt. The shirt dug into her neck and chest as she dangled there.

“What the hell am I supposed to be looking at?” the man smirked, and his hot, smelly breath engulfed Adelaide’s body. She coughed.

“Put her down. Now.” Ian’s voice was dangerously quiet. With how close the man held Adelaide, she couldn’t see anything past his face, but she desperately wanted to check out her surroundings.

“Or what?” the man said.

“Or I’ll claw your eyes out,” Adelaide threatened as she drew her knife from her belt.

“Ah, I’m really scared,” he laughed, pulling her away from his face and sending her spinning. She clutched onto her knife, afraid it would be thrown from her grip and lost to the mud below.

When she stopped spinning, Adelaide glanced around her. Ian, Nick, and Sarah stood defensively close, ready to make a move but afraid he’d drop her if they did. Four other men stared at her. She had to assume one was Ludlow and one was the accented guy who said they were stuck here. She didn’t know about the third or fourth.

Nick was the first one to try something. He stepped toward the man aggressively, but the man was quick. He pulled Adelaide up and away, far above his head. “Ah!” He held his hand up to Nick, indicating that if Nick didn’t back down, he’d let go.

Adelaide gasped. “Stop moving!” she shouted at her friends, annoyed. (Was ‘friends’ the right word? She wasn’t sure.) She knew they wanted to protect her, but they’d only make it worse by antagonizing him. Her shirt started to bunch around her shoulders. Not only was it embarrassing (both her shirt and the general situation), but it was cutting off circulation.

“Dieter,” the accented one said in a commanding voice. He wore a hat and was dressed in a way not dissimilar to Robert Muldoon. Like he was ready for a safari.

“What?” Deiter responded. He was clearly having fun riling everyone up.

“I’m not going to ask you twice,” Ian said. Adelaide tried to make eye contact with him to telepathically explain her plan, but he kept his eyes trained on the enemy.

Oh well. She’d do it on her own.

Adelaide slashed at Deiter’s finger with her knife. She couldn’t get a good angle to really dig in, but she was hoping it was enough to make him drop her so she could make an escape. She was also hoping somebody (preferably Ian) would think to catch her.

Deiter just winced and lifted Adelaide back up to his face, not to look at her, but to look at the wound she left behind. His blood dripped onto her head and down her face. She wiped at it with the back of her hand. Gross. His eyes flicked back to her and she forced herself to maintain eye contact if it was the last thing she did.

“Oh, you just got yourself-” he began.

“DEITER!” the accented man repeated, somehow even more forceful than the first time.

Dieter looked at the man, then back to Adelaide, then back to the man again. His thought process was completely opaque to everyone, especially Adelaide, but it became clear in the next few seconds.

“Whatever,” he complained as he carelessly tossed Adelaide upward. She spun rapidly in mid-air and scrambled for purchase on anything, but nothing was there. Her body reached its apex and began to fall, but Deiter caught her by the ankle between two pinched fingers.

The pain in her leg made Adelaide gasp. It felt like it had nearly been pulled out of its socket. And if he applied any more pressure, she was due for a sprained ankle at the very least. As it was now, it would definitely bruise.

This was nothing like when Ian dangled her by her legs that one time. She was still pissed at him for doing that, but it had only been for a second and, as always, he made sure not to pinch too hard. This guy didn’t seem to have a care in the world.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she swung back and forth, and even without sight, she could feel his presence directly in front of her face. And then he let go.

Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit, Adelaide thought as she hurtled toward the Earth. This was it. This was the end. The Beans weren’t fast enough.

At the last second, Adelaide landed in someone’s palm. Before she knew who it was but not taking any chances, she shot to her feet and held her knife out defensively.

It was Ian, breathing heavily. “Talk to me,” he said, trying to see if she was okay. He would have just asked if she was okay, but she would have said a simple ‘yes’, and that meant absolutely nothing.

“Let me at him,” Adelaide said darkly, ready for round two, but she was rubbing at her sore ankle.

Ian laughed, thankful that she was alright. He knew he was in for an earful later after everything he did and everything they went through, but he didn’t care. He cupped Adelaide to his chest in the approximation of a hug, despite her muffled protests.

“I’m serious!” Adelaide shoved against Ian’s chest as he pulled away. “I want a chunk of his skin.” She geared up to leap off his palm in the direction of Dieter, but Ian tilted his hand back toward his body to keep her from doing so.

“I know, I know. And I trust you’d get it, too. But generally people don’t take - don’t take chunks of other people’s…skin,” he said, trying to keep Adelaide in one place without wrapping his hand around her. “And it looks like Nick’s got you covered.”

Adelaide paused in her struggle against the ever-changing, ever-moving, steep incline of Ian’s hands. She looked out to see Nick picking a fight.

“You looking for a problem?” he yelled.

“I found you, didn’t I?” Dieter shot back.

Nick lost it and shoved Dieter, but didn’t stop there. He ran at the man, ready for a fight, but everyone else forced the two men apart, yelling at them to stop.

Adelaide winced, ever-impressed with the strength Human Beans possessed. It was like watching two mountains engage in a brawl, and it was very humbling.

“I know you,” the accented man with the hat said as he approached Nick. “You’re that ‘Earth first’ bastard.”

“What’s Earth First?” Ludlow asked.

“Professional saboteurs.”

“Environmentalists!” Nick corrected. He tried to lunge at the other group again, but two men held him back. How did Nick just keep getting cooler?

During the fray, Kelly silently walked up behind Ian. Adelaide felt a presence and turned around, nearly jumping out of her skin when she saw the girl.

“Are you okay?” Adelaide asked awkwardly, noting the blanket around her shoulders.

“Mhm,” Kelly nodded.

Adelaide waited for more but nothing came. “Good talk,” she muttered to herself as she turned forward.

“Knock it off!” Sarah yelled at everyone. “Listen to me. Moving the baby to our camp may have changed the adults’ perceived territory. We have to move. Now.”

Ludlow chimed in with some actually helpful information. “There’s a communication center here near the old operations building. Everything ran on geothermal power. It was never meant to need replenishing. If we can get there, we can send a radio call to the airlift. It’ll be a day’s walk, maybe more. But that’s not the problem.”

“What is? What is the problem?”

“Velociraptors.”

Adelaide froze, and she felt Ian do the same. The T-Rex was bad enough. Velociraptors were worse. There was no evading them.

“We could head back down to the lagoon,” Ian suggested.

“And sit out in the open, next to a heavily used water source and hope that your captain comes back? We head for the village,” the man with the hat said. “We might find shelter and we can call for help. Rex just fed, so he won’t stalk us for food.”

“Just fed? You mean Eddie? Show some respect. He saved our lives by giving his,” Ian said.

“Then his troubles are over. My point is predators don’t hunt when they’re not hungry.”

“No, only humans do,” Nick added.

“You’re breaking our heart,” the man said sarcastically.

“What is your problem?!” Adelaide blurted out. The reminder of Eddie’s gruesome death shot detailed memories straight back into her head and she actively had to force them out.

The man turned his attention to her and she suppressed a shiver. He walked closer but both Ian and Adelaide held their ground. When he stopped walking, Adelaide had to look way, way up at him from Ian’s cupped palm. She stood up.

“Ludlow, is this one of yours?” he called.

Peter Ludlow sauntered up shortly and Adelaide now found herself staring up at two giants. Even better. Between them and Ian, she started to feel claustrophobic.

Ludlow paused for a considerably long time, as if he had to think about it. “No, I can’t say it is,” he finally said.

“You don’t sound so sure about that,” Adelaide said.

“Quite sure, thank you,” he responded shortly.

“I have a name,” Adelaide said, glancing between them.

“Me too. Roland Tembo.”

“Adelaide,” Adelaide said hesitantly.

“Peter Ludl-”

“I know,” she interrupted, refusing to take her eyes off Roland.

Roland bent down to Adelaide’s level and Ian took a cautious step back. Roland’s eyes flickered briefly toward Ian’s but quickly returned to Adelaide’s. “I don’t have a problem, Miss Adelaide. Do you?”

It wasn’t exactly a threat, but Adelaide felt a menacing energy nonetheless. “Just your face,” she mumbled, realizing her mistake as soon as she said it. She really needed to stop antagonizing giants.

To Adelaide’s surprise, Roland just let out a good-natured laugh. “Right, then.” He shot to his feet, making Adelaide flinch and drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity. “Saddle up! Let’s get this moveable feast underway.”

As everyone headed off in a direction, Ian just looked at Adelaide. “Why?” he asked.

“Cause,” she smirked, refusing to elaborate. He knew. He knew that Roland was a jerk and Dieter was a jerk and all of them were jerks and Adelaide didn’t like jerks.

“Did he do that?” Ian indicated Adelaide’s leg with a finger.

Adelaide glanced at her leg and the gash that was now covered in dried blood. She remembered the pencil that fell and took her out, but the pain was nearly gone now. It was replaced by new pain in her ankle from where Deiter’s fingers were, but that pain was also doable. As long as she could walk, she’d survive. She nudged Ian's finger to get it out of her space. “Oh, no. Something fell in the trailer, but I’m good now.”

Ian sighed. “You’re going to kill me one day. You know that?”

“Shoulder please?” She gave Ian her best smile, though she was sure she looked insane coated head to toe in dirt and blood.

And with that, everyone was off. Adelaide tried to keep her mind off of the dangers that passed and the dangers to come, but there was little else to think about, and she always found her mind wandering back to those awful thoughts. Not to mention, she kept herself alert to the people around her just in case. She could feel them staring.

Though the rain never really ceased, it did let up for a moment. Now, it was pouring harder than ever and everyone was soaked to the bone. Adelaide could hardly see, which is why, when Peter Ludlow suddenly appeared at their side, she shot to her feet in surprise.

Then, since everything was wet, she almost slipped off Ian’s shoulder. She couldn’t sit back down now though. No, she had to make that look intentional, so she held on as best she could.

Ian turned to Ludlow. “I didn’t wish you luck on your new venture. You’re off to a promising start.”

Adelaide unwillingly laughed.

Ludlow eyed them both. “My team is intact. I’m sorry for the loss of your man.” He didn’t sound very sorry to Adelaide.

“Do you even know his name?” she asked. She wasn’t sure what it was about this man, but he didn’t scare her in the slightest. He was all talk. No action. Ian could definitely take him in a fight if it came down to it, and she was even beginning to think she could too.

Ludlow looked at her, disgusted, as if she were some pest, as if he wasn’t sure why she was speaking to him. He ignored her. “It’s easy to criticize someone who generates an idea, assumes the risk.”

“His name was Eddie,” Adelaide pushed loudly. She wiped at her eyes, trying to clear the rainwater away in vain.

Ludlow paused as he was forced to acknowledge her. “Right,” he said. He studied her for a moment, his eyes gleaming, and then the moment passed. That was all Adelaide was going to get.

“Taking dinosaurs off this island is the worst idea in the long, sad, history of bad ideas. And we’ll be there when you learn that,” Ian said, and he walked a couple paces ahead, effectively ending the conversation. Thank God for long legs.

They hiked through the night and then some. Adelaide had always heard about how beautiful sunrises were, how the sky filled with brilliant pinks and oranges. She only ever saw them through a window, and back then her mind was focused on other things. Namely, borrowing.

Adelaide hardly recognized that the sun rose because there was no sign of color in the sky. It just transitioned from black to a light gray. She supposed that felt correct given their bleak circumstances. Still, a little color in the sky would have been much appreciated.

“Take a break! Five minutes!” Roland called out to the group. Everyone collapsed into a seated position, exhausted from walking hours on end. Adelaide felt Ian’s limp get worse as time went on, and she was glad he got to rest.

She, on the other hand, had the opposite problem. She needed to walk around and use her legs, shake out the stress.

Adelaide began her descent down Ian’s shirt, but paused when he spoke. “I’m gonna wash up. You wanna come?”

She wasn’t sure what exactly he meant by that, but she did feel completely disgusting. She thought the rain would wash away some of the grime, but now, instead of being just muddy and bloody, she was wet, muddy, and bloody. And the blood wasn’t even hers. Gross. “Yeah, sure,” she said.

Ian stood up. “Stay here,” he said to Kelly. “Sarah!”

Sarah looked up and Ian pointed to Kelly, indicating that he wanted her to watch her. Sarah nodded.

Adelaide’s arms trembled from holding herself up so long, so she let go of Ian’s shirt, assuming he would catch her. He did, obviously, but it caught him off guard and he scrambled to do so.

“Are you actively trying to give me a heart attack?” Ian asked.

“I’m trusting you,” Adelaide shrugged as she stared up at him.

Ian walked over to a small stream not too far away. At least, it was small to him. It was still within eyesight and earshot of the group, so they’d know when it was time to leave.

He set Adelaide on the ground next to the edge and knelt down next to her.

Adelaide stared at the stream. From up above, it looked so small, so doable. She’d walk in, wash off, walk out, and be done. Up close, it was massive. There was no gradual decline into the water. It was a straight dropoff into the murky depths, the current strong and the water so clouded that she couldn’t tell how deep it was. She couldn’t even be sure it was clean, but it had to be better than the five layers of grime her skin was currently coated in. If only she could swim.

Adelaide must have been standing there for a long time because Ian piped up again. “Della? Hello? Earth to Della?”

Adelaide whipped around to face Ian as if just now realizing he was there. She stammered, trying to figure out if she wanted to admit that she didn’t know how to swim. It was probably best to avoid the conversation altogether. Save them some time. Forget this ever happened.

“Actually, I’m good. I don’t want to,” Adelaide said quickly.

Ian furrowed his eyebrows and stared, trying to work her out. She shifted uncomfortably, and she was suddenly very aware she was on the ground. Like, the ground ground.

Adelaide could physically feel the silence. It needed to be filled. “It looks dirty, so um, so I don’t want to. And it’ll take too long and we only have five minutes, and I don’t think you should leave Kelly alone with-”

“No offense, but that stream looks - looks a lot cleaner than, um, you.” Ian continued to stare. He knew that none of those reasons were legitimate.

Adelaide couldn’t take it any longer. Her eyes bored into the ground at her feet as she sheepishly admitted, “I can’t swim.”

.

Next

[everythingelvispresley]

Stories From Elvis’s Band

When he first hit in 1955, Elvis was like an H-bomb on shaky legs. In 18 months, he went from hillbilly singer to the biggest star in America, with a parade of No. 1 hits such as “Heartbreak Hotel,” “All Shook Up” and “Jailhouse Rock.” Along the way he upended our entire pop culture—from music to fashion to attitudes about race and sexuality.

His traveling companions on the road to the Hilton were a group of ace musicians, including Glen D. Hardin (piano), James Burton (guitar), Ronnie Tutt (drums) and Jerry Scheff (bass)

Preparing for Elvis’ new live show was an impressive undertaking. Luckily, Elvis and his new band clicked immediately. We rehearsed probably 200 songs, says Jerry Scheff. When we played them with him, it wasn’t like a rehearsal. It was more like we were just having fun, like jamming almost.

In rehearsals, and on stage, Elvis keyed off the guitar, says James Burton. We had great eye contact. He loved guitar. If I’d play a lick or something, he would just turn around and say, Yeah, baby! It was a great communication that all of us had. With so many songs at his disposal, Elvis rarely followed a set list. You never knew which way he was going to go on stage, Burton says. He could change at any moment. He’d say, James, give me an E. Then he’d go into whatever song he had in his mind.

He’d play stump the band, Hardin says. He’d try to find little ways to pull something on us. I don’t think he ever did because we were watching him so closely. We were playing the Forum in L.A. one time, and he was about as far away from me on stage as he could possibly be. He bent down to kiss a girl and I guess she whispered in his ear, Do Blue Christmas. As he raised back up, he went right into it. Now there’s only three eighth notes as pick-up notes. I’ll have a … and the whole band came in. It was things like that, non-stop. He was always very appreciative that we were right on top of him.

Says Tutt, As time went on, he would use more and more karate moves, to cut off songs and during songs, where there’d be musical interludes or solos. Because they’re almost quicker than the eye, those moves, I felt like there was only way for me to really understand them. And that was to study the same form of karate as he did. We’d have lessons and workouts up in his suite. It helped me a great deal to understand how he moved.

Elvis the comedian

The intensity was balanced out with practical joking. For all his iconic status as the king of rock ’n’ roll, Elvis often acted more like a jester on stage and off.

He was always coming up with something silly, says Hardin. Once he introduced me and said, You know, somebody told me the other day that the D in your middle name stands for Dolores. Is that true? I said, Why, hell no!He said, I think it is. I was told by somebody who ought to know. He just went on and left it at that.

He’d do imitations too. He did Engelbert Humperdinck and Tom Jones real good. He could do Billy Eckstine, Dean Martin a bit, even Moms Mabley. He would sing happy birthday to me a lot, Burton says, even if it wasn’t my birthday.”

Scheff says, One night, he brought one of those little battery operated laugh boxes on stage and said, Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Colonel Parker. As far as the humor is concerned, says Tutt, Elvis, as much as anybody I’ve ever known in my life, loved to laugh. He was a very emotional man when it came to that. He didn’t hesitate to laugh or cry. His whole life was built around trying to find humor in things.

What Might Have Been

All the musicians agree that the big fight that might’ve saved Elvis was a world tour. During the ’70s, he toured America, but never beyond the 50 states (his 1973 TV special Aloha from Hawaii was a vicarious substitute, beamed worldwide via satellite). The reason that Elvis never performed outside of the U.S. was that Colonel Parker, née Andreas Cornelius van Kuijk, was an illegal alien. To fly out of the country would risk not only being exposed but barred re-entry.

Elvis wanted so bad to go to Europe and to Japan, says Burton. He was looking forward to it, even in the year or so before he died. He felt that these people always came to him from around the world to see his shows, and he felt like it would be great for him to go over there and present his show to them in their country.

If Colonel Parker had let him follow his idea to become a more serious artist, things might’ve been different, adds Scheff. Elvis had a lot of pressure put on him by the Colonel and by fans to do the old stuff. I’ve worked with a lot of people, like Bob Dylan and Bob has always been able to change, like a chameleon. He didn’t care what the fans thought. He didn’t care what his manager thought. Elvis wasn’t able to say, Listen, screw you. I’m doing it my way. That more than anything else was one of the reasons he got so depressed.

In the end, when these players talk about their time with Elvis, it’s overwhelming how much they loved and respected him. I’m sure I expressed how much I enjoyed working with him, but he wasn’t one to sit around and let you pat him on the back, Hardin says. If you said, You’re the greatest, he would’ve probably said, Well, I’m doing pretty good for an old country boy.

I don’t think I ever told Elvis how much I admired him as a singer, says Scheff. Back then, everybody was being cool. I regret that now. I don’t even have an autograph, because I was being too cool. I think if I’d asked him for his autograph, it might’ve pleased him.

Burton concludes, Elvis didn’t know how great he was. He never came off like, I’m the king of rock ’n’ roll. As a matter of fact, there were many times on stage when people yelled out, Elvis, you’re the king! And Elvis would say, No, I’m not the king. God’s the king.

[mage-ical-character-person]

Been… Playing so much Subnautica. Playing Below Zero now (not super far in (left off right before deactivate satellites surveillance tower thing) so no spoilers pretty please) but Al-an!! Al-an my beloved!!

Local creature who’s used to being part of a pseudo-hivemind thing isolated for forever and now he lives in some lady’s head and he just wants to learn things and keeps being rude on accident because he does not understand that asking how humans cope with being so inefficient is a bit rude. He’s trying though.

Seriously though I can’t imagine how lonely it would be to go from being interconnected with like every other member of your species to cube jail for uncountable time. And then a human shows up and most of your communication before now had mutual mind reading involved but now you can’t make heads or tails of what this life form you’re trapped with thinks of you, or even how she works when it doesn’t seem like her species should be functioning this well considering all existing data.

Don’t see why I need to go to scary deep to get him a body though. Can’t I just put his consciousness in a Spy Pengling? AU where I put him in Spy Pengling. Pengling is ideal form anyway.