#in her depression era

[stargatelov3r]

Elizabeth Weir Daily

Day 204

[mollywog]

🐝 (fic title) - Dandelion Salad

can’t wait to see what you do w it 👀

Thank you @vasilissadragomir

Tags: Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark, modern AU, preschool teacher Peeta, environmental scientist Katniss

Summary: Parents rarely volunteer at school, so when their plant unit rolls around and Daisy Hawthorne boasts that her aunt knows everything about flowers, he’s surprised when said Aunt accepts his invitation to come talk to the class.

Fake Fic Ask

[coldlikethestars]

one thing about the withywoods years that drives me a little crazy is the fact that fitz is living that life as if he is a 80 year old retired man living his last years wanting nothing more than to spend time with his dear wife, completely ignoring the fact that he is a middle aged man who is not aging. not only he is still relatively young and could have been doing more with his life but he also pretends the not aging situation is simply Not Happening and he continues living in this little fantasy in which he will grow old and die by molly's side. and it was painfully obvious that he was going to outlive molly and continue his life without her but he simply never thinks about that. he never prepares himself for that loss and for a life beyond her even though, as painful as it is, that would have been the healthiest thing to do in that situation.

and all of this only adds to the fact that he was indeed living fully immersed in this fantasy and illusion of Absolute Normalcy that he created in his mind and he would not let anything else about himself and his life that was Not Normal to even touch that fantasy. but then he loses molly, the illusion crumbles, and the boredom and unfulfilling nature of that life becomes obvious. and, to me personally, it gets clear throughout the trilogy that that illusion he creates, his protectiveness of his life with molly and his inability of letting reality touch it, him cutting all these parts of himself and his life away, it's not only because he wants a life of normalcy and peace but because, above all else, he wants a life of being loved by molly. and he can't really see anything beyond that, the thought of not having that is unbearable, so he will continue to lie to himself, he will keep living an uneventful and unfulfilling life, he will pretend he's not really aging, he will lock all those parts of himself away in his little study, because that's what he thinks he has to do in order to have that life and feel loved by her.

and fitz thinks no one else loves him like that, and after he loses her, he thinks that no one else ever will. and to me the soul crushing tragedy of all this is that this comes almost directly from beloved's abandonment of him which not only reinforced his already existing abandonment issues, but also it meant being left behind and feeling used and unloved by the person he loved and wanted to be with the most.

[thegreatimpersonator]

i'm having feelings about the way mental health has been discussed in this album and tbh none of them are good... as someone who was drawn to taylor's lyricism when i first started listening to her i'm only enjoying this album because i like the music production lol i'm straight up ignoring so many lyrics. not that there aren't any good ones it's just that so many of them are making me feel icky. idk i know it's meant to be raw or whatever but so many lyrics sound so unkind when it comes to dealing with mental health issues specifically. what do you think about it, especially since you're majoring in psychology?

This is such an interesting point, because I've been having several thoughts about the way mental health is being discussed in the fandom rn. Right from swifties giggling at the that one interview where she says "I don't need therapy. I'm sane." (as if therapy is only for someone "insane", whatever that is) and joking about the psych ward, taking the asylum and functional alcoholic lyrics in light and lowkey making fun of someone's addiction is just....disgusting? I think taylor tried to be earnest in her portrayal of her struggles but it's getting lost in translation for me, because some of the lyrics seemed to not only imply that her partner's struggles with depression or addiction were a reason for the relationship to fall apart (which is fine, that happens and is an extremely difficult process for both partners) but also point out how it's their fault for not being able to get over those struggles? I keep reiterating that I still haven't played the album in its entirety so it's possible I'm missing a few facts, but there is a very fine line between expressing your mental health issues through art in a way that is cathartic and important to the artist + inspiring to their audience and cherry picking imagery that you find the most "aesthetic" for your art with little concern over how those who actually experience these issues may perceive it + its actual public reception

[loosethreadsofyoursoul]

sometimes i get sad bc my ships aren’t canon, or canon is not doing what i need it to in order to spark joy.

and then i remember my roots: marauders fandom

[youthofpandas]

once again thinking about the part of Demian where Sinclair paints a portrait of a girl, decides it looks like his best friend if his friend was a girl, mentioning the way the subject is both feminine and masculine, and then later concludes it is more than that: it is a representation of his soul, fate, inner self, his very life itself. the portrait of the girl cannot be him but it could be the face of a friend or a lover, the face of his future but not his own future (the girl is not like him nor should she be) just that of those he surrounds himself with. the gender... Oh, how desperately Sinclair yearns to break out of the masculine he feels trapped in and be allowed in both worlds

[ladysophiebeckett]

wanted to add to this, a more detailed opinion\explanation (??) about betty’s gaslighting arc. bc we see armando demand why she didn't tell him that that she knew about the plan and the letter. 

we know she wishes it wasn’t real, that she hopes it a very sick joke. we see her test the waters; her watching him read it, throwing it away. she keeps a copy of it and watches his moves fm then on. her decision to fuck with him isn’t premeditated, it comes at the result of knowing him. she’s seen first hand how he treats marcela (and how marcela treats him).

the night of the picasso exhibit, when they’re in the car and marcela calls him and he goes off on her, saying he’s not with anyone and betty’s face as he’s yelling at marcela--

she’s genuinely like, ‘hey, wtf is wrong with him?’. bc its so extreme. she’s seen them fight, but this is like, first hand where she only sees his side of it. and after the phone call she goes on to say,  ‘i feel bad, on top of all the lies, and you mistreating her (marcela). no, i dont feel great about it’. 

fast forward to nicolas, later on asks betty ‘when are you gonna tell him you know? or are you just going to keep doing this?’ but again, betty knows armando--knows the worst of him despite loving him. if she had confronted him about it the day she knew, he would have denied it like he denies cheating on marcela to marcela’s face. 

look, it was gaslight or be gaslit. 

a lot of fics that play with ‘if he knew when she knew, this would have happened’ don’t understand that armando is not emotionally there yet. he’s yet to grasp the depth of his feelings or understand the affect his actions have on her. if betty had confronted him that day or even the next, armando would have done everything in his power to lie, make her believe it IS a sick joke. anything to not lose her. he never would have admitted to his part in the plan. and betty knows this bc she’s seen him do this to marcela time and time again. 

so she plays armando’s (and mario’s) own game. her choices are limited. she sticks to this and the only way that she will stop is if (1) he stops following the instructions of the letter or (2) he realizes that she knows and confronts HER about it. she wants HIM to to admit to HER what he’s done. 

but he doesn’t. and when he finally knows why she’s acted this way, its too late. part of his arc is learning to admit to others and himself when he’s wrong. his ego, his stubbornness, his selfishness---it deters him from the things he realizes too late that he wants most (beatriz’s love and trust back). 

gaslighting arc is so important for both of them bc it’s them at their worst, its betty’s knowledge of him, it’s his knowledge of her bc he knows something’s wrong. he knows this isn’t her. but he doesn’t want to look too closely at her actions and the why of it. it’s so much easier to believe that he could be losing her to someone else than to admit that she now knows the ugliest part of him. 

[smolmakerel]

Everyone absolutely puts Sam and Tara through the ringer with their trauma. Like, yeah, I still eat that content up, but I need to see some more posts about them being absolute menaces in general.

I have 2 siblings and they're pains in my ass. We could fist fight and then not speak for an hour, and then one of them comes to me like, "hey, wanna go to McDonald's" and I'd drive us there while we blast the music.

Sam and Tara, before all that shit with their family happened, most likely had some chaotic sister moments. They grew up as sisters (obviously) and know everything about each other. This leads to the Natural Sibling Chaos (tm).

Sam and Tara, watching their mom yell at them about the concerning amount of windows they broke:

Tara, trying not to laugh:

Sam: What?

Tara silently mocks Christina's angry mom face to Sam. Sam is trying not to laugh now because why the hell is Christina making that face.

Also in the future when Sam comes back and they have Trauma and Body Counts under their belts, they get more chaotic.

Tara: I have a solution to take care of our new Ghostface problem.

Sam, relieved: Gracias a Dios, what is it?

Tara: It involves fire.

Sam, slowly getting worried: Ok...

Tara: And the bomb I learned how to make at 3 am last night.

Sam: You made a WHAT?

[futurequibblerjournalist]

Hihi!! :3

I'd love a yap session about your fav Knights!! If u want ofc :D

If not,, some Marauders content would be super cool!!!! Especially for Remus!! I'd love to hear about his parents and his relationship with them, but I'd be 100% totally and honestly down for anything!! Ooh defo any headcanons for him! Ahhh wowie I feel so special with all the attention uve given me !!

Have a good day :33

- 🍃

It's been so long since I've gotten to answer one of your asks vjfnjgnbg I've missed iiiiiit,,, it's been so fun answering your asks!!

I’m gonna be talking more about the actual knights of Walpurgis but I’m gonna take this as an excuse to talk about my girl Lucretia cause I love her so much

Her full name is Lucretia Elladora Black and she’s born in 1925 though I’ve yet to set an actual birthday for her,, I need to figure that out. She was born with Esotropia in her right eye, polydactyly (she had extra pinkies when she was born but they were removed) and she’s infertile (these are all because of the inbreeding that the Black family is known for).

She’s in the same year as Walburga at school and she was obviously a Slytherin. She was the seeker for the Slytherin quidditch team (though her brother and cousin would often somewhat tease her that it was not proper).

Her best subject is potions and she’s very fond of them. Other hobbies, save for quidditch, include entomology (specifically lepidopterology) and a fascination for the French language. She’s also quite interested in the magical artefacts that the Black family possesses.

She grew up in 12 Grimmauld Place with her younger brother Orion (he’s four years younger than her) and their parents Arcturus and Melania Black. Their house elf was Kreacher when she was growing up and like the woman, she got her middle name after she was notoriously bad to the house elves

I picture her with very long, sleek obviously black hair with bangs, upturned grey eyes, lips that are fuller in the upper lip, a long nose and a beauty spot under her right eye and one on her left cheekbone. She’s tall for like,, Black family standards but that’s not really saying a lot? She’s taller than both Walburga and Orion but just a smidge shorter than Cygnus and Alphard. She got narrow shoulders, average bust and a tiny waist and her skin is incredibly pale like the rest of the family’s.

I think she’s the one who starts out with a crush on Ignatius and everyone considers her a bit of a bitchy mean girl cause she’s one of the girls from the Black family and she’s got a fairly stern personality and a resting bitch face but when she’s around Ignatius she’s all giggly and smiling and twirling her hair and I think she spends a lot of time trying to subtly talk him up and get either her brother or her cousins to approve of him

As for Remus!!! Ahhh I love him so much cjnfjcnf

He was born to Lyall and Hope Lupin on March 10 1960 in Abergavenny, Wales, after the two got married. Lyall is a half-blood born to parents Ulric and Altalune in 1929 also born in Abergavenny. I really like Polish Hope who moves to England/Wales at some point after the war. She is, as we know, a muggle. She meets Lyall, they have their whole meet-cute with the boggart and they get married. Neither thought that they would end up having children but they had Remus as a surprise and he made them both very happy.

I am not a Remus has distant parents/parents that hate him/anything of that sort kind of person. He’s got parents that deeply love him and that are trying their best with him despite the situation they end up with, with Remus’s lycanthropy and that shapes Remus as a person!!! Which is why it’s so important!!! He is gentle in spite of everything partially because he has been surrounded by it for all of his childhood. He’s not been able to have friends but he’s had parents and especially a mother who tried her best to make sure he wasn’t missing anything

I think Remus is really close with his mum, he’s a bit of a mummy’s boy. He’s less close with Lyall, but that’s mostly because Lyall struggles to approach him sometimes because he feels guilty for what happened to Remus because of his actions.

As for some Remus headcanons:

He grew up in a dual faith household with Lyall being Christian (though not particularly practicing) and Hope being Jewish

Blonde Remus!!! It gets darker with age but it’s still light enough to be called blonde. He’s also got hazel/green-ish eyes and a shit tonne of freckles

The nose on this guy!!! Yes,, big < 3

He smokes menthols. He hides that he smokes from his parents but especially his mother

His closest friends are Peter and Lily. He considers Sirius and James very close friends as well of course, but I think he always thinks that there’s a bit of a distance between them cause they’re “so much cooler than him”

I think he met Peter on the train before he met anyone else and the two bonded. This is why Remus was so adamant that Sirius and James include Peter in their group because he refused to exclude his first friend

Feels like stating the obvious but huge collection of jumpers

On that note, Hope knits him stuff like all the time, he’s got knitted vests, knitted jumpers, knitted socks, the whole lot. Hope will sometimes knit socks for James, Sirius and Peter as well and ask him to bring them along

He grew up in many different places since they were forced to move around a lot, but the place he stayed the longest was a fairly remote cottage that he’s very fond of. It’s not particularly fancy, but it’s very cozy and homey

For the wolfstar fans out there I think Remus is the gangliest most awkward looking motherfucker and people are always confused when they learn that wolfstar is a thing because of all people Sirius Black could end up with he chose the one who looks like he’s been through a paper shredder?

A very good storyteller I feel? If he reads a book out loud he makes different voices for the characters, but even if he’s just telling a story in general it’s always very engaging

On that note he speaks a lot with his hands

He’s a horrible dancer lol

A lot of people headcanon that Remus is very warm I feel, but I imagine he feels cold all the time even if to other people he feels warm yk?

I don’t think he’s a bad singer, he might be kinda average, but he thinks he’s an awful singer. He’ll at most do a bit of humming in a very low vibrating voice and he usually does this either when he’s cooking or when he’s in the shower

When he blushes the tips of his ears also get really red

He is the farthest thing from a morning person. It’s almost always a race in the morning to see whether Sirius or Remus will toss a pillow at James first when he’s trying to get them to get up

Remus would wear full pyjamas but none of it would match

He really likes chocolate with orange crunch in it

I could see him being the kind of person to call people love (even more so when he’s older), especially in casual passing like if he bumps into someone he’ll go “oh, sorry, love” without really thinking about it

His favourite subjects are Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms

I think that's all I've got for now? I have other asks that vaguely include him so there might be some more coming at some point vjfnbjgnb but yeah ahhhh thank you for the ask have some moodboards as well < 3

[madam-of-lithuania]

My depression era is back again 😔😭💔

[seasicksilver]

nnd RWBYxTrigun AU. I’m so serious about this

[opalsiren]

what substance do we think L4 is gonna be. since pure heroine is alcohol, melodrama is mdma, and solar power is weed. i'm thinking perhaps an anti-depressant of some sort

[corallapis]

okay. see. the thing is. the cricketing gear isn't just a silly set of clothes the tardis picked out. it's to clue you in that we're dealing with posh edwardian man levels of repression here. that's who five is.

[etheirys]

solution nine has me thinking about au fable again (fable by bampshi)

[wexhappyxfew]

hi shannon!! marianne is calling my name so... can i request "it's 4am. you need sleep." with her? 😁 hope you're having an AMAZING day!!

HI BLUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!! you already are very aware of my excitement towards this prompt because i have not talked as much as i have wanted about my queen marianne salinger, resident tail-gunner of silver bullets who loves three things in this world (1) the silver bullets crew, (2) frank sinatra and (3) her orange cat, frank. AND OF COURSE -- i took this opportunity to talk a bit more about co-pilot of silver bullets, francis montez - co-pilots are just....they're so interesting. there is so much depth to them, especially what their relationship is with the pilot, and we dig into that here. also -- we get some birdie faulkner mentions! my queen (lost but not forgotten)!! francis montez, my tragic hero, i am HUGGING YOU!!!!! please enjoy this look into life before annie bradshaw became replacement command pilot for silver bullets! it is such an interesting space to work in, especially considering what we already know about life with annie bradshaw as the pilot!!!

we all lost birdie

(a/n): marianne salinger POV of the limbo time in between the command of birdie faulkner and annie bradshaw as francis montez struggles with the weight of leadership in a time like this. let's just say....she's not coping well, but the silver bullets crew is there to help with that. also -- marianne is just a gem for real, like observant, chaotic af, non-smoker but is the 'do it because my friends did it' person tbh she's great LMAO! please enjoy!!! (and thank you blu for this....i sincerely hope you enjoy!!!) <3333333 co-pilots my beloved!!

Birdie Faulkner had been on levels even some men would never get to in their lifetime. Highly respected, rather decorated and equally intelligent as any man flying a B-17 as anyone. It’s probably what made Silver Bullets so reliable.

The first she picked was her co-pilot.

Francis Montez - a good Californian, who had top marks in school and a knack for opening up her mouth when prompted, she was an easy choice for co-pilot, a second in command, another leader who would undoubtedly be useful in unforeseen circumstances.

The navigator and bombardier came next: Bessie Carlisle and Carrie Achterberg or Bergie, of Queens and Brooklyn, New York, respectively, from two sides of the same town. Damn good at their jobs, efficient, the glue to the crew and the ones with the brains. Necessary investments.

Then came the flight engineer. Not only must she know all she can about the B-17 but how to fix it on the ground or in the air if needed. Marjorie Harlowe - or Margie - from Michigan, took up that role with ease. A smile, a flick of the finger, an easy-going and competent nature - it wasn’t any surprise that if you flew with Margie Harlowe, you were safe.

Radio ops was next - Paulina Stagliano of Philly was one to talk. Loud mouth and an even louder mind, she got her point across in short question and answer scenarios for her crew, and was always of the opportune to play music when the morale was low.

Then - her turret gunners.

Waist gunners were first - Kennedy Farley hailed from Boston, a rather passionate, raging Red Sox fan, who was a fierce and loyal protector and friend. And a damn-good gunner - she knew that gun inside and out and if you needed a hand with repairs, she'd show up with a smoke, a screwdriver and a small frown and get it done in 5 minutes.

Vivian Ratcliffe from Colorado had grown up with a father teaching her the ropes in mechanic garages - and it was no wonder she was so used to the cold up in that open-air belly - nights and mornings spent skiing in the Rockies, gaining rough-and-tumble love from nature, from the air to the sea. The best of the group, truly.

Then she went for the ball turret gunner - they had to be pretty small, reliable, quick-witted, and no doubt, Birdie wanted someone with a funny personality - Judy Rybinski was practically over-qualified for the role. Showing up with a grin on her face, offering Birdie a bouquet of wildflowers hand-picked, shaking hands and talking about how quickly she could blow a target from the sky seemed to sell Birdie and the rest of the crew immediately. She was a peach.

Then there was herself; Marianne Salinger.

Tail gunner.

Sort of oddly lanky, but not super tail, slightly scrutinizing of others that weren't her crew, painter and animal lover when the war wasn't on, and a Frank Sinatra fan that even if his mother showed up, Marianne would've professed her love greater onward than that. She even found a stray orange tabby named Frank to join her.

She was a lot of things in ways, but very observant. Incredibly observant. Overly observant. And sometimes - to be like that hurt.

Because right now, Birdie was dead.

And the Silver Bullets crew was pilotless - the vacant spot staring the 90% crew in the face, the empty cot where Birdie's things had been like a sore bruise on the body - aching, but almost gone.

In moments like this, Marianne always admired Lieutenant Montez.

Probably since she was first brought into Silver Bullets and introduced to the Silver Bullets co-pilot; Lieutenant Francis Montez.

The good-hearted Californian.

Called you five different nicknames before sticking with one.

Keeping the brave face on in front of the rest of the Silver Bullets crew after Captain Faulkner's death.

Especially when she'd been right next to her when it happened.

So, in shifting herself to the left side in her cot, yawning widely and letting out an overdramatic 'hmph' as she snuggled into her pillow, hearing a rather distressed and choked cry leave someone's lips sent her sitting straight up in her cot. The quick movement made her heart pound, a pressure building behind her eyes and the sudden realization, from a quick glance at her watch, that it was only 0400 with the moonlight still peaking through.

Marianne swiveled her head around the barracks, squinting in the darkness, attempting to seek out who it was. Truth be told, after losing Birdie, nightmares became a normal thing - and some nights, no one slept. It'd been a tense and uneasy atmosphere for nearly a week and with no new pilot, things were even more worrisome and weary.

The only person holding them together was co-pilot Francis Montez. And currently, she was the one breaking down. Marianne could tell because it came from the far corner of the bunk room, closest to the door. And Francis didn't ever let it on that inside she was hurting. It's probably what hurt Marianne the most to see.

At dinners and lunches and breakfast - Francis would be sat, that blank look in her eyes, that ache buried deep inside, barely eating and trying to laugh it off seconds later.

Slowly standing to her feet, and nearly tripping over Frank's little pillow on the ground that he'd taken to, she picked her way down the rows of the crew towards Francis.

Deep-down, she probably should've stayed in her cot, kept her mouth shut and let Francis deal with her emotions. But a sudden urge to protect her and hold Francis through a moment like this was all she wanted to do.

Marianne approached the outlined form on the cot, bathed in a sprinkle of moonlight and held her breath, debating if she should turn around now.

"Lieutenant Montez?" Marianne whispered, her voice causing Francis' form to freeze-up entirely, turning to look over her shoulder towards Marianne stood there, as if a ghost had appeared - Marianne almost choked out her words, "I just heard something and wanted to make sure you were okay and then I saw you were awake and-"

"Salinger." Francis said, voice slightly hoarse, silencing her rambling, "I'm fine. Just, some fucking nightmare. But, it's fine. I'm going out for a smoke anyway. Take the edge off." Marianne stood, cheeks heated red in the darkness, as Francis stood to her rather tall height and picked up her A2, throwing it on roughly, before grabbing her smokes' box and heading towards the door. Marianne's heart hammered in her chest before she wiped at her nose and cleared her throat.

"Need a buddy?" Oh, God, now how awkward do you sound? Francis turned and looked at Marianne and she balked. "Uh, need a buddy. Ma'am." Francis stared at her in the darkness and Marianne swore that she could've died on the spot if it was possible.

"Sure." Francis said and then turned to the door stepping outside. Marianne skittered to follow her out, slowly shutting the door behind herself and settling down on the stoop in front of the barracks beside Marianne.

Outside, with the moonlight, Marianne could get a better look at Francis' face and saw the dark circles under her eyes, the fading scar from the incident on that fateful day and the blankness of her eyes all at once. Her heart ached.

"Want one, Salinger?" Francis said, placing one on her own lip before offering the box. Marianne - resident and very adamant non-smoker in the group - stared at the box before looking at Francis again. Francis usually never offered because she knew Marianne didn't smoke, but Francis seemed on a whole different planet right now. And something made Marianne want to take one.

"Yes. Yes, ma'am." Marianne said, reaching forward to pluck one out of the box and place it on her own lip - the paper taste wasn't nice. Francis chuckled slightly.

"You don't have to keep calling me ma'am or….or Lieutenant. It's fine, seriously." Francis said, glancing at her, "Here." Francis leaned forward and gently lit the edge of Marianne's cigarette before leaning back to light her own. Marianne's warm cheeks failed to dissipate and she couldn't help but watch as Francis clicked the lighter closed and then popped the cigarette off her lip and blew out a drag of smoke. She didn't realize her staring until Francis looked to her and waved a hand.

"You there, Salinger?" It didn't take long for Marianne to blink herself out of it, before inhaling the cigarette chemicals too fast, breathing it in and hacking up a lung, loud and noisily, before gasping for breath, the cigarette forgotten between her fingers.

"Sorry," Marianne croaked out as Francis gently tapped her back, clearing her airways, "I don't smoke."

"I forgot about that," Francis said, sounding slightly defeated and guilty, "just not with it right now."

Marianne recovered her bearings and slight moment of embarrassment and looked to Francis sat beside her, staring out towards the airfield at night, planes silhouetted in darkness. It was an eerie feeling - knowing she had died on that plane, after getting up into it thinking there'd be many more times after. Knowing that cockpit would remain empty until the replacement showed up.

Knowing that plane was still sitting out there, soaked in that feeling, those memories, that moment.

"Probably because it's 4 am. And you need sleep." Marianne said quietly, looking over at the co-pilot, "Brain won't work and wire itself right without it."

"Can't sleep most nights anyway so," Francis said, popping the cigarette on her lip and clenching her jaw, "if I do, the nightmares come so, prefer not to if I can."

"Of Birdie?" Marianne asked. Francis grew quiet and continued staring out, blank-eyed. It grew quiet and Marianne wasn't going to push her - fresh in the mind, only four days ago - she almost regretted saying Birdie's name, but she knew Francis needed to get it into her mind what was going on. She needed to be able to talk instead of bottling it inside.

"Yeah." Francis said quietly, pulling the cigarette from her lip, "It replays in my mind. Every night since it's happened." Marianne watched as Francis looked towards her, tears in her eyes. She watched as Francis shook her head, biting back her lip and looking towards her again.

"It was our second mission. We just got out here. And….and she's already gone." Francis whispered quietly before looking out at the darkness again, "They won't allow us to fly until they've got someone new in here, and…I don't know, going up there again and she's not next to me. I….I don't know." Marianne glanced sidelong at Francis again and watched as the co-pilot reached up to angrily wipe at some tears in her eyes and sigh.

"I gotta get myself together - there's some pilot from San Diego coming in tomorrow anyway - Atchinson….something or other. I gotta…." Francis let a hand linger lightly over her body, a display of dissatisfaction on her force, "I know I won't go back to sleep so. Don't want to keep you awake. I'll be fine." Marianne watched Francis - did she actually think Marianne would leave her sit out here alone and suffer in silence? In the darkness?

"I can stay." Marianne said, her cheeks growing warm uncontrollably. Francis looked over at her, slightly surprised. Marianne stuttered. "I mean, I can stay and we can talk. So you're not alone. I don't mind. Mind being here with you. With…" Marianne watched as Francis looked towards her a small smile on her face, dark eyes watching Marianne with mirth.

"When in doubt, Mari Salinger's gonna make sure you're not alone," Francis said, her eyes never leaving Francis' as she reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze, "thanks, Mari."

Marianne sat there, incredibly aware of the feel of Francis' hand on her shoulder, the warmth from the co-pilot's hand now infiltrating her body, along with the look in Francis' eyes that simply only watched Marianne in this endless darkness. It took a matter of seconds, but then Francis was pulling her hand back, unflinching, and removing her cigarette from her lips again and nodding to her.

Clearly, she wasn't unchanged, but Marianne felt like her entire world had shifted on its axis and suddenly, she wasn't sure if she knew how to breathe right or if her lungs were working.

"So, you hear anything about this Atchinson?" Francis asked her cooly, waving around her cigarette between her fingers and rubbing her temple, "You always got the scoop on this sorta stuff, so." Marianne cleared her throat and looked at Francis.

"I…I must say it's the first time that I really don't know much to anything about her. Just that's she's a pilot. From San Diego. Captain ranking I believe. Nothing more." Marianne said quietly with a shrug, focusing on a spot of dirt on the ground and attempting to pull herself together, "Say, Francis…what happens if this doesn't work out?" Francis glanced at her and raised a brow.

"Come again?" Marianne balked and cleared her throat.

"Atchinson. Uh, Captain Atchinson. What happens if the fit isn't….the right one?" Marianne asked her, "You heard Harding. He said 'We gotta make it the right fit.', the hell is that supposed to mean?" Francis watched her and offered her an upturn of a smile.

"They don't just want anyone up there, Salinger." Francis said to her with a nod, "Birdie was more qualified than any of us. Best of the best. And she hand-picked the group of us. Now. We're down our command pilot and the spot's vacant. They're not just throwing names in a hat and picking out the first piece of paper they touch." Francis smirked.

"Which, I'll give 'em credit, they're looking out for us," Francis said and Marianne's cheeks warmed as Francis smirked at her wider this time, "but that don't mean much, I gotta say. Until that replacement's in the sky with us, until you really know what they're like….I don't know. May not know the right fit until they come back after a mission and know what it's really like." Marianne slowly nodded and glanced back at Francis.

"You think Atchinson's gonna work out?" Marianne asked her, her mind thinking, if Birdie were here tomorrow, to meet her, would she like her? Francis shrugged.

"You can only hope," Francis said quietly, "I don't know though." Francis sighed and scratched at the back of her head for a moment, her dark hair tied into a bun that rested gently on her neck, where the scars of that final flight for Birdie had occurred. They both fell quiet, Francis smoking her cigarette, Marianne trying to get a wrangle on her head and her heart.

"Hey, Francis?" Marianne asked quietly, watching as the co-pilot turned to look towards her. Francis' eyes were always dark and consumed with something no one could ever quite distinguish, but for the first time in what seemed like a while, they were clear and quiet. That chaos, that storm inside was calmed for once.

"What's up?" Francis asked her, as Marianne watched her.

"If you ever need to talk to someone in the future, whatever it is, I'm here. We all here." Marianne said quietly, tapping her fingers against her up-bent knees against her chest on the stoop, the warm night breeze running over her bare legs, "We all lost Birdie." Francis watched Marianne and slowly nodded, tears forming in her gaze. It was those few seconds in between recognition and having a breakdown that Marianne caught as Francis squeezed her eyes shut and bit back her quivering lip.

"I just don't want you all to think this is it for Silver Bullets, for all of us," Francis whispered quietly, her voice breaking, "that without Birdie, we're done for. We all worked to get here, you know. We all deserve to be here, sticking out necks out, dealing with all the shit from everyone else. We're all here because we earned it. And I just….I don't want to show that in front of everyone. That it fucking sucks trying to keep it together, trying to cooperate with a replacement that won't ever be like Birdie. Knowing Birdie won't be coming back." Marianne watched her, tears welling in her own eyes. Her throat tightened as she tried to speak.

"You're not alone, Francis," Marianne said quietly, "Birdie's always gonna be up there, alright? Watching over us." Marianne pointed to the sky. Francis managed a stifled cry and wiped at her tears and sighed.

"I know." Francis whispered.

"Birdie would want us to keep going, too," Marianne said quietly, "remember when Birdie told Judy that one time about how years from now, when people think about this war, our names are gonna be apart of that. Silver Bullets is, too. Even if there's a replacement. Birdie's name is gonna be sticking in that, too. She'll always be here."

Marianne wasn't sure what happened, but in a span of a few seconds, Francis had scooted over and wrapped Marianne in a hug, holding her close, a few silent trembling cries somewhere near her right ear.

Slowly, Marianne wrapped her arms around Francis, holding her there, and letting her feel those emotions for a moment where the only thing watching was the cloudy moon. Francis wasn't a heavily emotional person, so when she pulled back after 30 seconds, Marianne wasn't surprised that she was clearing up and nodding herself back to life.

"Sorry, Mari," Francis said, patting her arm and sighing, "just, thanks for that. Just needed to hear it from someone else, ya know?" Marianne nodded with a small smile, for the first time seeing their co-pilot come a bit more to life, especially in the past week more than anything.

"We're always here." Marianne said, with a small smile, "We are a 10-woman crew. Not a 1-man." Francis chuckled wetly, wiping a few more tears from her eyes as she smiled again.

"I know it's barely 5 am, but they might have coffee out. Wanna join me?" Marianne watched Francis and it only took about a millisecond for her brain to respond.

"Of course." Marianne said with a smile, following Francis to the mess hall for a cup of coffee. A cup of coffee at 5 am to ponder the horrors of the week was all one needed to ready themselves for another day, another mission, another breath of air. It's all Francis needed and something Marianne needed to. It's what they all needed.

[eidolons-stuff]

Enid: *storms off and moves into yoko's dorm*

Wednesday: